A Geek Girl's Guide to Arsenic (14 page)

I crossed my legs and shoved the lemonade straw between my lips.

Jake tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You can get copies?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

People filtered into the grass around us, settling onto blankets for the fireworks. Jake and I shared an awkward silence as we finished our kabobs.

He set the empty basket of sticks aside. “Can I ask you something personal without making you mad?”

I dared a look in his direction. “Try me.”

“Why not Nate? When I met you, I figured you were a happily-ever-after waiting to happen. Three months later and nothing’s changed. You have everything in common. I can’t find anything wrong with him, and he meets your brains and brawns requirement. I don’t get it. People are pretty predictable, but this has me puzzled.”

“We’re friends. That’s all it’s ever been. I don’t understand everyone’s fixation on this subject.”

“I find
just friends
hard to believe.”

I guffawed. “You were serious when you said men and women can’t be friends? I was sure you were trying to prod me.”

Jake swiveled on the bench beside me and hooked a knee between us on the wooden slats. “That’s been my experience.” He lifted a hand. “Boy likes girl.” He lifted the other hand. “Girl likes boy.” He clapped them together. “Sex.”

“Oh, jeez. Are you serious?” I nearly choked on my lemonade. “You sound exactly like Bree.”

A wide grin split his face. He shook his head and chuckled. “Maybe there’s more in the middle, but that’s how it goes, right?”

“No.” A laugh bubbled out. “That is not how it goes. Good grief, man.”

“It’s been a while since I dated. Maybe I’m confused.”

“Yes. You are confused. That or you watch too many dirty movies. When was the last time you dated?”

“I don’t watch dirty movies. Who calls them dirty movies?” He laughed. “I haven’t dated since high school. I met the one I wanted for life during my first tour in Kuwait. That was it for me, but she didn’t make it home.”

A little gasp caught in my throat. He’d said something like that to my family when Bree asked if he’d ever been in love. He’d said she died but didn’t say how.

“I’m sorry.” It was lame, but something needed to be said. What else was there? Darkness aside, I was unveiled beside him. Everything I said felt weighted, too important.

“Don’t be sorry. Soldiers know what we’re in for. It’s a risk we take. Roadside bomb. I did three more tours before coming home. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her there, but she wasn’t coming home. One day I had to let go.” He anchored an elbow over the back of the bench and heaved a breath. “Anyway. That was a long time ago. More than ten years.”

“You didn’t call me after you left. Was it because you thought I was with Nate?”

“No.” He shook his head and looked into the night. “I don’t know why. I just couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I thought we were friends. You know I’m not great at understanding people or interpreting motives. It hurt when you didn’t call. I assumed it was something I did.”

He turned solemn blue eyes on me. “I lied to you for weeks about who I was and why I was in your life. I hadn’t earned your trust. You had every right to hate me.”

“I don’t. You came clean, and we moved ahead.”

“Well, while I was lying, I had some trouble separating the job from my personal thoughts and feelings. Undercover can get complicated, and you made it hard to see you as the criminal I was investigating. You were funny and quirky and charming.” He cleared his throat. The scowl returned. “Bottom line, you had everything you needed, and I wasn’t part of that equation.”

“You took yourself out.”

“It was no way to start a friendship.”

“Isn’t that exactly what happened?” I twisted on the bench to face him. “Aren’t we friends?”

Fireworks sizzled into the inky sky and exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors.

His brooding face was almost too much to bear. Part of me wanted to flee, run for my apartment and lock the door behind me. The other part disagreed wholly with that course of action.

“Why not Nate?” He exhaled the question like his life depended on understanding my answer.

I blinked, recognizing this moment as one I’d live to regret. “He’s too easy.” There. I’d said it. “Not
easy
. He’s...painfully agreeable.” Bree swore the doting type of man was pure gold, but Nate took it too far. “He’s never stood up to me or challenged me to try harder or be anything more than I already am. We get along perfectly at all times. I can’t live like that.” I laughed at the ridiculousness of my complaint.

Jake’s brows lifted slightly. “No fire.”

I shook my empty head. “Yes.” Nate and I had no fire. No passion.

Jake leaned closer. Wow. He smelled amazing.

Spectators cheered for the fireworks illuminating the night.

He cursed under his breath and lifted his hand to my cheek. His thumb drifted over the tender skin beneath my ear.

A soft gasp popped out of my mouth.

His phone buzzed inside his jacket pocket, drawing his attention and breaking his unsettling gaze. He pulled away like I smelled of rotten cheese. “Archer.”

I flopped against the backrest. Holy crap.

He was on his feet. “I’ve got to go. We’ve got a warrant for the apothecary’s shop and storage facility. If this was a murder-suicide, we’ll get the case closed tonight.”

I jumped up. “Okay.” My brain begged me to follow him on this excursion, but my ratcheted nerves said,
Go home and do not leave.
Ever.

Nerves won.

Chapter Seventeen

I couldn’t sleep, but I did get an email I’d been waiting for. A local contractor had an opening in their schedule and could get started on a new booth for Guinevere’s Golden Beauty right away. I emailed the specs, dressed for the Faire, and met him an hour before opening.

We reviewed the situation, haggled on pricing, then shook hands.

He pushed a clipboard in my direction. “We’ll rope the perimeter off and get a solid foundation started today. I’m gonna make a trip downtown for the right permits, and have you back in business this time next week.”

I scratched my name on the bottom line. “Thank you.” I didn’t miss the fact his sudden availability coincided with the fact I had proof we didn’t kill John. Even third-party companies didn’t want to be associated with that kind of press. No wonder Petal was nonresponsive. I’d made up my mind on her while I stewed over the number of things I couldn’t control. She had until Thanksgiving to tell me where we were on our deal. After that, I’d assume she was out, and find another way to get our products onto retail shelves. I didn’t want to work with someone who couldn’t be bothered to return my calls, anyway.

Bree arrived fifteen minutes before the gates opened. A wool cloak whipped around her ankles in the cool morning air. She dropped two lidded coffees and three supply bags on Grandma’s makeshift checkout and stared. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I unloaded the bags with caffeine-enhanced nervous energy. “We’ll have our booth back in a week. Oh, you brought muffins.” I opened the plastic container and snagged breakfast. A fresh blueberry burst in my mouth. “This is amazing. Did you make these?”

She took over setting out cups and napkins. “Are we going to do this? Pretend you weren’t the first one to work on a Saturday morning? As if there’s no massive story behind your early-morning appearance?”

“I met with a contractor. You passed him on your way over here. Burly guy. Clipboard. Tool belt.” Jeez. Scolded for being late, questioned for being early. “How about a ‘good job’?”

Her eyes settled on mine, trying to extract the information she wanted, using her twin power, no doubt. “You look worked up. What’s going on? Don’t say nothing.”

I crammed another bite of muffin between my lips and fluttered my eyes.

She took the container away. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, what’s wrong?”

I slid my fingers under my glasses and rubbed tired eyes. Jake’s stinky-cheese look had haunted me all night. I’d called Nate to ask him for a guy’s perspective but couldn’t bring myself to tell him anything. Rejection was personal and painful. I was ridiculous for still thinking about it. Nate and I played REIGN, our favorite online role playing game, all night, until I came to meet the contractor. We made lunch plans for hanging out when my shift ended today.

I sucked crumbs off my fingers and smiled. “How’s Gwen?”

Bree tapped her foot. “Talk, woman.”

“Stop. You’re making me crazy with that face.” She swore we were cosmically connected because we were twins, and claimed to know when I was hurting, physically or emotionally. I wasn’t convinced either way.

“Talk.”

“It’s been three days since John died, and I’m no closer to knowing what happened than I was the day he collapsed.”

“I’m not buying it. You aren’t a detective. You two weren’t close. You saved our business. Try again.”

The business part was still to be seen.

I smoothed my Guinevere dress and put on a professional face. “I’m working up a promotional campaign to smooth consumer relations after the nutball news allegations. The first round of coupons and sample invitations went out last night to our mailing list. I’m hoping they do the trick and we can get back on track for holiday sales.”

“Nope.”

I unlidded a coffee and leaned against the counter.

She followed suit.

Jake’s stink face popped back into mind. Why didn’t I have any girlfriends? “Fine. I’ll talk, but you can’t. Promise?”

She lifted a three-finger salute. “Promise.”

“I just need to say it all aloud so I can process. Then I’ll move on and be done with it.”

She waited. No talking. Keeping her promise.

I couldn’t do it. I needed friends who weren’t blood related or male. “Never mind.”

Adam arrived with perfect timing, carrying a clipboard and pen. “Bree. Mia.” He tipped his hat. “We’re practicing in ten. If you want to warm up, now’s the time, Bree.” His black tights and green vest emphasized his small stature. He leered at me and then my married sister like a man in need of an eye-poking.

She set her cup aside. “I’ll be right there.”

He gave us another long look before departing.

I turned to Bree. “Do I want to know what you’re warming up for at the brothel?”

She did a silent clap. “Adam put together a cabaret for us to perform. It’s delicious and the absolute perfect addition for our grant work. Tom’s helping backstage and overseeing everything, including crowd responses. I’m the lead.” Her happy eyes turned pleading. “Which is why he made muffins. We hoped you’d watch Gwen for us during rehearsals. There are only a few, and they won’t take long, I swear. Plus, Mom and Dad already agreed to cover you anytime you’re helping with Gwen. Linus will take over as soon as he’s feeling better.”

As if watching my twin in a cabaret wasn’t asking too much. “I get to play with Gwen and watch rehearsals? Nothing else?”

Her head bobbled. “Please. Please. Please. I haven’t been onstage since high school.”

“You were a cheerleader in college.”

“Cheerleading’s different. No one paid any attention to us on the sidelines, and everyone abandoned the stands for the bathroom at halftime. Please? It’s all in the name of research.” She drew an X over her heart.

“Fine, but only because I refuse to make Dad sit through your cabaret practices. I assume that’s why he passed. Okay, also because my niece is wonderful and I don’t see her enough.”

“Excellent! Tom will bring Gwen to you when he’s needed backstage. I have to run. I’ll be back to relieve you at lunchtime. I’m staying until close.”

She bounded away.

I finished the coffee and muffins feeling duped somehow.

By lunchtime, I’d spoken to hundreds of shoppers, answered questions about the false news reports as diplomatically as possible, and explained the benefits of every item we carried at least as many times. Overall sales were shoddy, but at least people were stopping and seemed interested in what I had to say.

When Bree returned at lunch, I shoved off, eager to get home after a quick trip to the privy.

I sauntered along the dusty path, taking in the scenery. The fairgrounds made a perfect setting for Ye Ole Madrigal Craft Faire. The Renaissance Faire happened every summer in an apple orchard, but fall was the busy season for Ohio apples and the dead season for county fairs, so the Craft Faire had a separate locale. Passersby carried shopping bags and steaming cups. Their red cheeks and rosy smiles looked a lot like the commercials for holiday shopping.

Despite the crowd, the privy was empty. I washed up at the foot-pump water station and dried my hands slowly, not quite ready to go home. How sad was it that the Faire had lost two members in four days and no one seemed to notice? There wasn’t even a memorial for John or a remembrance painting on display. Nothing.

A chorus of laughter echoed behind the fence. Business as usual for workers in need of a little nookie. The trilling giggle mixed with a heady and failing Scottish accent I’d recognize anywhere. I inched closer, pretending to dry between each finger and around the nails. The florist’s accent fell away on some descriptive word choices about her cleavage and his tongue. A rough New York accent took over a moment before the talking ended. Ew. He was as bad as the rest of them.

My heart sank. He was also just a guy enjoying his life, like John. Like my best friend Baxter. They hadn’t deserved to die so young or so senselessly. Much as I wanted to stick around and get a look at the unlucky woman with the florist, I had renewed purpose. This ordeal meant more to me than seeing my company’s business back in order. A shopping bag with a silver horseshoe caught my attention. I wanted justice for the victims, and I knew where to go next.

I had a few more questions for Adele. I climbed the hill to the blacksmith’s shop, planning my inquiry and hoping she’d talk to me again. The jousters were lined up for a tournament. Hopefully, the Action News team wouldn’t be back. I wasn’t at the wagons to help hold Grandma back.

Adele was busy showing a pair of wizards a birdcage, so I poked around, waiting my turn. She was my best resource so far. Though, I couldn’t help wondering if she’d been jealous enough to kill both of them.

“You’re back.” She found me near the weapons where we’d first met.

“How are you?”

“Good.” Her swollen eyes and splotchy complexion said otherwise. “Better.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m working on it. I was mad and a little in shock when we talked before. It’s bothered me. I must’ve seemed like a callous bitch. I’m not usually. Maybe I’m still in shock. I’m glad you came back so I can say sorry if I acted like a maniac before.”

“You were fine. I know what you’re going through. I lost someone over the summer. I still pick up the phone to text him when a favorite show or song comes on...then I remember.”

She blinked glossy eyes. “Life, right?”

“Yeah. Life.” I toyed with a line of leather whips on the wall. “The last time I was here, you told me John was seeing the apothecary. Did you hear about what happened to her?”

Creases gathered over her forehead. She pulled a handkerchief from her corset and dabbed her nose. “No. Was she arrested? She hasn’t been back to her shop since he died.”

“She’s dead.”

Her mouth popped open. “How?”

“Poison.”

Blood drained from her cheeks. Panic widened her eyes. “Do you think someone’s targeting the people in John’s life?” She turned her gaze to a cup on her counter. “Was it something she bought from the Faire? Surly Wench was closed today. Did she buy something poisonous there? Did Lisa do this?”

“We don’t think the poisoning happened at the Faire. What do you mean about Lisa? Was she seeing him, too?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s over eighteen and not using a walker, so she’s in his age range. She’s not ugly and she’s accessible.” She found a chair against the wall and fell onto it. “Am I next?”

“We don’t have any reason to think that. Do you?”

“Do you have any reason to think I’m not next? What if I’m targeted for being in his life?” Her long black skirt dragged on the straw and dirt floor as she writhed to get comfortable and catch her escalating breath.

“That’s terrible logic. I don’t have any reason to think
I’m
not next. You can’t look at it from that perspective or you’ll be afraid of everything.”

She flailed her arms. “I am afraid of everything.” The heavy liner and raven hair dye suddenly seemed more like a cloak of protection than a statement of hard-assery. Her rapid breaths became shallow.

“Hey.” I crouched before her. “Look at me. I’m here to see if you have any other names you can give me. Was he seeing anyone else that you know about besides Melanie and the apothecary? Also, did he ever say anything about his business? Do you know if it was doing okay?” The whole money situation didn’t sit well with me. “I might talk to the partner next.”

That got her attention. She straightened on the seat and settled herself. “I think business was good, but his partner was a real thorn. They argued all the time. John would come here some nights and drink after hours, just trying to escape. That’s how we got together.”

Interesting. “Any other women you can think of?”

The bird-cage guys were back at the counter. “Not really. Nothing more than a quickie hookup. Sorry. I’ve got to get this. Will you keep me posted if anything else happens?” She swatted her cup into the trash and gave her customers an apologetic smile.

“Yes.”

I exited the shop and inhaled fresh country air. This had nothing to do with her or me. Whatever was going on had everything to do with John and nothing more. Except the apothecary, but I’d figure out how she got sucked in.

I turned for the castle gates and my waiting car. A pair of horses in dress armor rode into my path. A knight wearing a red coat of arms removed his helmet and smiled. “Milady.” He dismounted his horse with a flourish and bowed at my feet. “May I be of service to you this fine day?”

I curtsied. “No, thank you, sir.”

He stepped toward me as I moved away. “Might I buy you a cup of ale or coffee? Lunch, perhaps? Anything you’d like.”

“No, thank you.”

His used-car salesman grin gave me the creeps. “Your number then? Perhaps another time?”

“No.” I widened my stance. No meant no, whether the topic was coffee or something more. “Kindly remove yourself from my path.” Three ways to land him on his back, if necessary, ran through my mind.

He snorted and stepped away, palms forward. “Excuse me, Miss Priss. You’re dressed for the Faire. I assumed you might want to play the part. A little knight in shining armor might be what an uptight princess needs.”

Why were so many men pigs? This was why I didn’t date. Where was Bree when this stuff happened to me?

“Hey!” Adele hollered from her shop. She had a broom in one hand and a pail in the other. “You want to hear me play drums on your head again?”

He scowled.

“No? Then shove off!”

The jerk disappeared without another word.

I spun in shock. I could’ve dropped him, but her effort was appreciated. “Thank you.”

“Bloody jousters.”