A Geek Girl's Guide to Arsenic (15 page)

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Authors: Julie Anne Lindsey

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Chapter Eighteen

I arrived late to the concierge desk at work Monday morning, apparently not long after a pack of wild animals. “Good grief.” I collected empty sugar packets, fallen swizzle sticks and stir paddles and stuffed them into the trash can. Did people have no respect for coffee?

I made a quick tally of things to accomplish and general time frames. I had a pile of emails to send and graphics proofs to approve for Guinevere’s Golden Beauty. The accusations had been made and disproven in the span of a few days, but if I didn’t act fast and stay on top of things, there could be long-reaching negative results. I’d contacted the news station and requested an interview with Mindy Kinley or at the least a timely on-air apology.

The clubhouse buzzed around me. Staff and residents hustled in every direction, chatting on phones and toting bags. Gym bags. Computer bags. Shopping bags. With Pioneer Days behind us for another year, Horseshoe Falls was back to business as usual, which meant a full inbox for me. Residents and IT problems were a package deal. Fortunately, most of the problems were solved by turning their machines off and back on again, but no one liked to hear that, so I’d volunteer to drop by and take a look. Score points for customer service and a little local gossip. Double win.

The door to my office swung open as I reached for the knob. Fifi stopped, wide-eyed in the threshold. “Oh, glory be! I was on my way to get coffee and a pastry for you.” A line of bangle bracelets jangled on her thin arm.

“Uh-huh.” I slipped past her, raking my mind for the reason I’d asked her to come back. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fully capable, but thank you.”

She bit her thick glossy lip. “If you say so. I logged in to clubhouse email when I got here this morning. I used the password you gave me Friday, and I responded to all the messages and questions. There are two residents who need someone to come out and take a look at their machines. I called and tried to verbally walk them through the problem, but they didn’t like that very much.”

“The residents like knowing tech support does house calls. It’s one of the perks here. They itch. We scratch.” I set the coffee on my desk and turned back to Fifi. “Not really. Not literally.”

She blinked long false lashes.

“I didn’t mean to touch them if they asked.”

She sniggered. “I like you. You’re funnier than my last boss.”

I slid onto my seat and logged in. The IT inbox was clean, aside from two marked with blue flags.

Fifi went back to her seat and tugged the hem of her floral mini dress. “I flagged the ones who want us to come to them.”

“You did all that this morning?”

“I like to make a good impression and stay busy.”

Maybe an assistant wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Can I have a voice mail passcode? I couldn’t check those messages or I would have.”

I got Fifi started on the voice mails, then I ran a quick diagnostic of the system and double-checked the security. I’d made a routine of vigilance after the issues of this past summer. I released a breath. No one had tampered with the network. No hackers. No homicidal lunatics. I worked steadily through the morning on a pile of pet projects I hadn’t had time to look at in months.

By lunch, I was running on fumes, mental and physical. “I need food.”

Fifi jumped to her feet and pressed the phone receiver to her chest. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’m going to make those house calls you flagged. I’ll grab something from Sweet Retreat on my way back. Can I pick you up something?”

“No thanks. I don’t do lunch.” She returned the receiver to her ear.

“Right.” Well, I did lunch, dinner, breakfast, second breakfasts, the whole hobbit-inspired gamut. “Water then?”

“That would be amazing.” She marked notes on paper and hung up the phone. “I checked the voice mail. Just repeats of email messages.”

“Sometimes residents think the email might not make it, so they leave a voice mail as backup.”

She crinkled her nose. “How do they know the voice mail gets here?”

“They trust what they know.” I hoisted my bag over my head and secured it cross body. “Text me if you need anything. I shouldn’t be long, and I won’t be far.” The walls around Horseshoe Falls guaranteed it. House calls were manageable on foot, but I preferred the golf cart mode of transport. It preserved my pedicure and designer heel addiction.

“Be back in a jiffy.” I thrust the door open, ready to test my best time on two house calls and lunch. “Ah!”

Jake stood inches from my face. Alarm raced over his features before settling in quiet amusement. His hand moved to the gun at his hip before dropping nonchalantly at his side. “Afternoon, Mia.”

Fifi hummed. “You should really get a window on that door.”

I huffed to catch my breath. “What are you doing here?”
Why haven’t you called since Friday?
Why’d you make a stink face at me and flee?
What is wrong with you?
I sidestepped him.

Unfortunately, he followed. “I thought you could use some help.”

“With what?” I slowed to look him over. Jeans, boots, gray shirt, black duster. Gold star at his hip. “Missing the cyber-crime team? Need a little time at the keyboard?”

His lips parted slightly. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d have expected a smile to follow.

“I spent some time online this weekend. It helped.”

I headed for the door. “I knew it. Once a techie, always a techie.” I swung the maintenance door open and I slipped into the sunshine.

Jake climbed onto the bench seat of the employee golf cart. “I played REIGN a few times. It looks like someone else is running your kingdom.”

He played REIGN again? I hid the shock racing through my veins and revved up the cart. Apparently, I’d have company on my lunch ride. “I joined Nate’s kingdom after the thing with Punisher last summer. Normally, I play at his place, but there’s a Furry convention in town and Carl and the crew were in costume.” I shivered. “I loathe Furries.”

“You just handed your kingdom over to Faerie Fiend? She’s arming the townspeople.”

I hooked a right onto the main drag and headed for Sweet Retreat. Maybe I could eat before I made the stops. Who knew how long Jake planned to visit. Leaving him in the cart while I worked on a desktop seemed rude. Of course, climbing into my cart without asking was also rude, but that was to be expected of one of us.

“Faerie Fiend is a strong player,” I hedged. I didn’t like the thought of arming the peasants, but I’d needed someone to step up fast and take over the kingdom after my attack, and she’d been willing. “Wait a minute.” I stopped at a crosswalk for a Segway and two women on horseback. “You haven’t played REIGN in three months.”

He lifted and dropped one shoulder by way of explanation.

“Why now?”

A green Prius rolled up behind me, and I pressed the gas. I waved at the Segway operator and horse riders as I pulled ahead. Horseshoe Falls had never been so beautiful. The trees were out in full autumn foliage. Fallen leaves in shades from crimson to amber dotted the roads, still damp from an overnight shower. The sun shone as if it hadn’t gotten the message. Winter was coming.

Thanks to another day of blessed Indian summer, Dream Bean and Sweet Retreat were hopping. I snagged the last spot at the curb outside their doors and twisted on the seat for a better look at Jake. “Why now?”

“Why not?” His rounded shoulders and tight jawline indicated something was wrong. The stern set of his lips said he wasn’t up for sharing, but he came to see me, so he should’ve expected a few questions. He ran the pad of his thumb absently over the shield on his belt. “It’s a nice escape. Helps me think.”

“Okay. Why so glum?”

“What?”

“You look a little pouty, like someone stole your pony. So, spill.”

He guffawed. “I’m a grown man. I don’t pout.” His thumb brushed the marshal star again.

He’d called marshals the “ultimate lawmen” when he took the job. He’d made it sound like a life goal to wear that star. Seemed to me he should be ecstatic.

I hated to start a fire, but I’d taken a devout interest in studying human body language last summer, and Jake’s body was screaming of tension and misery, exactly the opposite of what he should feel, having accomplished his life goal. “How’s the new job going?”

He turned fiery eyes on me. “Fine.”

I nodded, slow and steady. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Or maybe it’s not everything you made it out to be and you miss your FBI job? Maybe it’s a little like that saying, never meet your heroes?”

He narrowed his hot gaze and worked his jaw side to side before climbing out with a huff.

I bounced to his side, obviously on the right track. “You miss the FBI? Marshalling isn’t so great?”

He stared straight ahead. “‘Marshalling’ isn’t a word, and I liked it fine until I lost my first witness then found him dead.”

I mulled that over. “You know, I can relate to that. My sophomore year of undergrad, I landed a spot on Les Quizerables, the best academic team on campus. They were the smartest juniors and seniors in the state, and they weren’t interested in adding a sophomore, but my record spoke for itself. I nailed the tryout and they reluctantly let me in, but our first debate was with Les Quizerables’ biggest rivals, and I buzzed in on the tie-breaker with a wrong answer in overtime. I lost the game for us. I didn’t hear the end of it for two years, until everyone on either team had graduated. It was humiliating. I got what I wanted, and I blew it. I didn’t want to go back.”

He turned his chin my way, without meeting my gaze. “But you did.”

“Yep. I led Les Quizerables to nationals senior year. We lost eventually, but not without a hell of a fight, and I took two sophomores with us.”

“Congratulations.” He pulled the door open and followed me inside.

* * *

We brought Fifi a fruited water back from lunch. Jake set it on her desk. “Hope you like apples and cinnamon. Bobbie Kubicka says it’s great for cleansing toxins.”

Fifi accepted the gift with enthusiasm.

I stuffed a big green straw between my lips and sucked down the iced vanilla latte to keep my mouth busy. Why was Jake still here? Had he come back to my office to visit with Fifi? “Don’t you have investigating to do?”

“Actually, I got a call from Dan and came by to tell you about it.”

I guffawed. “Well, what have you been waiting for?”

“He said several vendors over at the Craft Faire fingered you as a snooper. They said you were creeping around all weekend asking about John Francis and George Flick. Dan thinks you’re interfering with a police investigation and I should bring you in. I assured him you were done with that. You have the situation with your company business to keep you busy.”

My jaw dropped. Dan was supposed to be the nice brother. “That’s ridiculous. I’m allowed to talk to other vendors. They’re my friends.” Kind of. I knew some of their names. “It’s a free country.”

“Nope.”

“Nope? What does that mean? It’s not a free country?”

“It means when your expression of freedom impedes an official police investigation, we win and you knock it the hell off. Plus, I’ve told you to get away from this thing before it runs you over.”

“Fine.”

“Promise me.”

Was I twelve? “No.”

Jake lumbered away from Fifi’s desk and into my personal space. Hands on hips, frown on lips. “I’m serious as a snake bite, Mia. This isn’t some jaded computer hacker.” He gave a pointed look at our captivated audience. Apparently he didn’t want to say much more. “What were you pestering folks about all weekend anyway?”

I lowered my voice and leaned closer. “I’m not okay with John’s death, and his financial situation bugs me. He was a brilliant painter. I saw dozens of his pieces hauled out in shoppers’ hands every day. All summer at the Ren Faire and again once the Craft Faire opened. How was Flick doing well if the painter was broke? It doesn’t make sense. Then I heard they fought all the time about money, so I wanted to see what Flick had to say about it, except the gallery was closed all weekend. So, I asked around about him. Talked to vendors with neighboring booths and women I’d seen hanging around the gallery. I learned John did a lot of boudoir paintings, but not much about the partner.”

Jake pressed his thumb and fingers against his eyes. “I’ll take another look at the partner, but you have to stop. Dan’s not joking about this. You can be charged with obstruction, or worse.”

I swallowed long and hard on the last two words. “Fine, but if Flick’s not there again today, I think you should check on him at home.” I stepped closer until our shoes touched. My voice was barely a whisper. “In case he’s like the apothecary, if you know what I mean.”

Jake backed away. “Maybe, but I don’t like him for this. He had too much to lose.” He shifted his weight. “I’ll check in on him if he doesn’t show today. I will. You won’t. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Did you hear anything else I can pass on to my team and Dan? Might win you some points with Dan if you at least gathered some useful intel in the process.”

I slumped into my chair, exhausted from his close proximity and giant attitude. “No. That’s all I’ve got. Well, that and a brain full of images I can’t erase. I watched my sister prance around in fishnets and shake her behind for two days. The brothel’s drama company is putting on a short cabaret this week. Clean Fun, Dirty Woman.”

Jake’s deep laugh startled me. His chest bobbed with the rhythm of the sound.

“I’m sorry. Are you laughing? I didn’t think you did that.”

He toned it down to a handsome smile. “Your sister’s funny. My family would love her.”

“Everyone does.” I sighed.

“How’s your company doing? I saw another clip on the news with your booth in the background. It’s coming together well.”

“We’ll weather the storm. I’ve got multiple balls rolling to maintain customer trust and encourage new sales. Grandma has her lawyers on standby. We’ll be okay.”

I shot Fifi a look, and she turned back to face her screen.

A voice in Jake’s pocket repeated his brother’s name. “Eric. Eric. Eric. Eric.”

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