Allergic to Death (18 page)

Gigi wasn’t anxious to see what they’d find. Would Martha’s new notebook be in it? Would there be evidence that incriminated Carlo? There must be something—or why would her bag have been stolen? It seemed too coincidental.
She was fairly certain that the person who’d stolen Martha’s bag was the same one who’d put the peanut oil on the food.

Gigi sighed and pulled the purse onto her lap. It was heavy, and the leather was rough beneath her fingers. A zipper with a round, burnished brass toggle ran the length of the bag. Gigi slid it open and peered inside. Martha’s wallet was still there, along with a compact and a tube of lipstick, some hand sanitizer, Band-Aids and a packet of tissues. She stuck her hand into the purse, feeling along the sides and bottom. She came up with a wad of crumpled papers.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” Gigi smoothed the pages out on the coffee table. “They look like they come from Martha’s notebook.”

“What do they say?”

Gigi held her breath. Maybe Martha’s experience at Al Forno hadn’t been as bad as Carlo thought. He was something of a perfectionist, after all.

Gigi began reading Martha’s tidy, precise handwriting, and her hopes fizzled like wet firecrackers. Martha hadn’t enjoyed Al Forno at all, that was for sure.

“Bad?” Sienna asked.

Gigi nodded, wadding the papers back up into a ball. “Yes. It doesn’t look as if Carlo and Emilio would have gotten a good review.”

“But that doesn’t mean they had anything to do with Martha’s death, does it?”

Gigi shrugged. “I don’t know. Carlo did tell me that he’d sunk virtually all of his money into the restaurant. He couldn’t afford for it to fail. That certainly gives him a solid motive for wanting her out of the way.”

Evelyn was nursing a mug of tea behind the counter of Bon Appétit when Gigi pushed open the door the next morning. She needed a half pound of Kalamata olives, a tube of anchovy paste, oyster sauce, mini-gherkins and a new lemon zester.

Evelyn looked up from the paper she was reading as the bell over the front door tinkled melodically. She pushed the paper to one side and leaned her elbows on the counter as Gigi approached.

“Morning.” Evelyn’s greeting was as economical as she was.

Gigi smiled and returned the greeting. She dug around in her purse with one hand and triumphantly pulled out her shopping list. She spread it out on the counter, and Evelyn peered at it upside down.

“Anchovy paste,” she read as she reached for the shelf behind her and selected a tube with a red and green wrapper. She placed it on the counter and ran her finger down the list to the next item.

The bell over the front door tinkled again, and Evelyn looked up, a curtain of bobbed gray hair falling over her cheek. Gigi swiveled toward the door as well.

“I thought that was you through the window,” Alice trilled. She was wearing new-looking khaki pants and a crisp, fitted white shirt. Gigi could tell right away that she’d lost more weight.

“I had to tell you,” Alice exclaimed as she approached Gigi and Evelyn, “I’ve just been to the doctor, and I’ve lost another ten pounds! And all those numbers he always goes on about have improved, too! The bad ones are down, the
good ones are up, and I’m thrilled,” she finished triumphantly.

“You on Gigi’s plan?” Evelyn cocked her head in Gigi’s direction.

“Yes.” Alice nodded. She twirled around as she approached the counter. “Like my new outfit?”

“You look fantastic,” Gigi said. It made her feel so good to see Alice’s success. For a minute she almost forgot about Carlo, Martha’s purse, Al Forno and Branston Foods—who still hadn’t called her, but she wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“Anything I can get you?” Evelyn pointed at Gigi’s shopping list. “Just need one or two more things for Gigi here.”

Alice shook her head. “Not while I’m on Gigi’s plan, I’m afraid.”

“Say.” Evelyn spun around suddenly. “You hear about the to-do over at Martha’s place last night?”

“To-do?” Alice asked eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement.

Gigi went very still—as if that would keep her face from turning tomato red, which she could tell it was already doing. She felt hot flames licking at her cheeks and faked a coughing spell, hoping that would account for her crimson complexion.

“Water?”

Gigi shook her head and fanned her face with one hand. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“So tell us about this to-do,” Alice demanded.

“Yes,” Gigi chorused weakly.

“Well,” Evelyn began with relish, resting her arms on the counter and inviting them to lean in close. “It’s like this.” She looked around, but the tiny shop remained as empty of other customers as it had been moments ago. “I was watching
television. A rerun of that cop show Jim likes. Then all of a sudden, sirens, lights flashing, the works.” She blinked at them triumphantly. “Just like on the program.”

“No kidding!” Alice licked her lips and leaned in even closer.

Evelyn nodded. “And get this. Two cop cars pulled to a stop right in front of Martha’s house.”

“No!” Alice’s eyes were as round as two cherries. “Everything always happens on my days off! What happened then?”

Evelyn held out a hand. “I’m getting to it. Don’t rush me.” She put up a hand and readjusted her tortoiseshell hair band. “The cops spilled out and rushed up Martha’s drive.”

“And then?”

Evelyn scowled. “Well, I can’t see much more than that from my house, can I?” She scowled harder, her brows nearly meeting in the middle of her broad forehead. “I was in my robe and slippers, and by the time I went upstairs and changed, they were gone.” She snapped her fingers.

Gigi let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. Obviously Evelyn hadn’t seen much of anything. Certainly not her and Sienna skulking around in the bushes, or it would be all over town by now.

“Later Adora told me she’d called them,” Evelyn continued, and Gigi’s breath caught in her throat again. Her heart went to double-time as if she were running a marathon. “Apparently”—Evelyn’s voice dropped even lower—“Adora thought she’d heard someone prowling around the yard.”

“No!” Alice exclaimed again. “Did they catch the person?”

“Well, no.” Evelyn’s face settled into lines of disappointment. “It seems it was all a mix-up of some sort. Just someone out walking their dog, Adora said.”

“Oh.” Alice’s face fell as well.

“Of course”—Evelyn pulled the edges of her cardigan together over her ample chest—“I could tell you about some other goings-on in our neighborhood that you wouldn’t believe,” she finished triumphantly.

“What do you mean?” Gigi tried not to sound interested, although she could feel the pulse in her neck speeding up.

Evelyn wagged a stubby forefinger at them. “I’ve seen a man coming and going from Adora’s house at all hours,” she sniffed, her stubby nose in the air. “Stocky fellow with dark hair. Couldn’t tell who it was, of course. Too dark, and he was too clever to stand under the streetlight long enough to be recognized.” She turned a beady stare on Alice and Gigi. “That Adora isn’t as lily white as she makes out.”

“Have you seen him recently?”

Evelyn nodded. “Last night, as a matter of fact. I was letting Oscar out for his last evening walk when I saw the fellow disappear around the back of Adora’s house. Still didn’t get a good look at him,” she added ruefully.

“Who could it be?” Alice’s eyes were calculating.

“Someone who doesn’t want to be seen, that’s for sure.”

“But why?” Gigi looked from Alice to Evelyn.

“He’s married,” Alice offered. “What else could it be?”

Evelyn leaned back and brayed, her mouth pulled tight over her teeth. “Adora thinks she’s so clever. But everyone knows,” she crowed triumphantly.

Chapter 12

“Maybe Adora’s mystery man isn’t a lover,” Gigi said as she swiped a soapy sponge across the hood of the MINI.

“What else could he be?” Sienna’s voice was muffled as she bent over to scrub a stubborn spot just above the right wheel well.

“I don’t know.” Gigi dropped her sponge into the bucket of soapy water. “A cat burglar?” She waited until Sienna had finished her side of the car, then uncoiled the garden hose.

“Don’t you think he would have struck by now?”

“Maybe Martha saw him sneaking into Adora’s house, and he killed her?” Gigi turned on the spigot and motioned for Sienna to stand back. She aimed the stream of water at the car and hosed off the suds.

“Seems pretty extreme to me.” Sienna grabbed a couple of towels from the stack they’d brought out with them and handed Gigi one.

“The whole idea of murder seems extreme to me,” Gigi said, panting slightly as she rubbed down the hood of the car. Gigi finished drying the last section of the MINI and stood back for a moment to admire the shine.

Sienna unreeled the cord on the vacuum cleaner and looked around for the plug.

“Over there.” Gigi pointed to a spot next to the garage door, half-hidden behind a slightly overgrown rhododendron. She opened the rear door of the MINI, and Sienna pushed the power button on the vacuum cleaner. Gigi took the hose from her and began on the backseat. “But how does the mystery man tie in with the notebook and Martha’s purse?” She half disappeared into the backseat as she worked the vacuum cleaner wand over the upholstery. Reg didn’t shed much, but there were still some white hairs clinging to the fabric, along with a fair number of crumbs.

“Maybe they aren’t related.” Sienna grabbed the bucket of used, dirty water and tossed it away from the car. It ran down the driveway in a sudsy stream.

“But don’t you think that would be too coincidental? Martha’s purse just happens to get stolen, and it happens to get stolen the same day someone kills her? I can’t believe there isn’t a connection between the two. And I’m afraid the connection points to Carlo.”

Something glinted on the floor of the MINI. It was half under the passenger seat, and Gigi stretched out an arm to grab it. It looked like a pen. She’d probably dropped it at some point without realizing it.

Her hands closed around the object, and she pulled it out, steadying herself with one arm braced against the backseat. She was about to toss it into the glove compartment when she realized it wasn’t a pen.

“What on earth…?”

“What is it?” Sienna peered over Gigi’s shoulder at the object.

“I thought it was a pen,” Gigi began. She turned the item this way and that.

“It is a pen.” Sienna held out a hand, and Gigi passed her the item. Sienna held it up to the light. “It’s not a normal pen, though. It’s an EpiPen.” She slapped a palm to her forehead. “I should have thought of that!”

“Thought of what?” Gigi took the pen from Sienna and gave it a closer look. “What’s an EpiPen?”

“It’s really a hypodermic, see?” Sienna pointed to the needle just visible through the clear plastic of the barrel. “And it contains epinephrine.”

“Epi-what?”

“Epinephrine,” Sienna repeated. “People with severe allergies to peanuts or bee stings or things like that carry it. It keeps their heart beating and their airway open until they can get to the hospital.”

“But what’s it doing in my car?” Gigi stared from the pen to the backseat. “Unless…” She nibbled her lower lip with her teeth. “Unless it fell out of Martha’s purse when I tossed it into the backseat.”