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Authors: Chrystle Fiedler

Death Drops (11 page)

BOOK: Death Drops
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He took a step back and raised his eyebrows. “I thought it was an accidental death?”

“I don’t think so.” I related my theory and the series of disturbing events, including my conversations with Detective Koren, the broken window, the stolen formula, and the kitchen fire. I also told him about the insinuations Koren had made about my having a motive to kill Aunt Claire.

“Sounds like your brain is working overtime,” Jackson said as he read the label on the B-complex vitamin bottle.

“I need to find out who did this.”

He frowned and said, “It’s best to leave these things to the professionals.”

“Even if the professionals aren’t doing their job?”

“I’m sure Koren is doing his best,” Jackson said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “You might want to cut him some slack.”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

He drilled me with a look. “Everyone knows everyone. It’s a small town.” He turned and headed for the checkout stand, calling over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help.”

The next morning, after I
fortified myself with breakfast that consisted of an omelet made with free range eggs, a sprouted wheat muffin with ghee and homemade strawberry jelly and a cup of Chai tea, I headed back to the office. It was time to find out more about Jackson Spade. Who was this guy and how could I get him on my side in solving Aunt Claire’s murder? I was desperate for help, and something about this guy told me he was the one. Aunt Claire appeared to have liked him, and he certainly trusted her.

My Google search yielded some newspaper articles about the accident. It was all as he had said, except for the fact that he had been married at the time and living in Great Neck. I hadn’t noticed a ring today. The articles also confirmed that he’d been placed on permanent disability and had moved to Greenport in January. He might have some free time on his hands to help me find out who killed Aunt Claire if I could just get him to check the attitude. I’d have to work on him the next time he came in.

Next, I checked with Merrily, who gave me the name of the store’s usual repairman. Turns out it was Bill Morgan of Bill’s Building. I called him and told him what happened, although he already knew, small town and all. He said he’d be here in the morning.

That done, I grabbed a small bag of organic popcorn off the shelf (research shows it’s chock-full of polyphenols, which are antioxidants that can help fight heart disease and cancer) and headed into the office to go through all the paperwork on Aunt Claire’s desk. There was plenty of it.

I divided it into research for Fresh Face, PR from herbal and supplement companies touting their products, personal correspondence, and the dreaded bills. The last were formidable. Not only did we owe Helen, the supplier who had buttonholed me the other day, we also owed a good chunk of change to an organic snack company, an organic dry-goods producer who sold everything from cereals to pasta, and Shelly’s Organics, which included garden burgers, pesto tortellini, and vegetarian lasagna. The store was well stocked, but obviously Aunt Claire hadn’t been able to keep up with her suppliers’ bills. I wondered if I’d be able to do so.

While mulling this over, I heard noises from outside the office door. Moments later, Allie’s smiling face appeared. A tall redhead with model good looks, she was dressed in khakis, a flowered tank, and Keen sandals. She put her bags down and gave me a warm hug. “I’m so sorry about your aunt! How are you doing, sweetie?”

Having her there made me feel as though for the first time I could really be vulnerable. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Allie hugged me again and made soothing noises. After a moment, she reached for a few tissues and handed them to me. “We’re going to get through this, don’t worry. Hector is here, too. Hector?”

Hector, acupuncturist extraordinaire and Allie’s best friend, rounded the corner and came into the office. Imposing at over six foot two, Hector was dressed impeccably in a tailored lime-green shirt that fit like it was painted on over his well-developed chest, shoulders and arms, a black tie, black pants, and black shoes. His smiling face immediately made me feel better. We had shared many good times, most notably when we took the
Sex and the City
bus tour of Manhattan a few years back. We ended the day with cosmos at the Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street in Greenwich Village and afterward walked arm in arm back to Allie’s flat on Charles Street, talking and laughing. Life was good.

After he left the marines, Hector trained at the Southwest Acupuncture College in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Now he was one of the most sought-after acupuncturists in New York, especially among the celeb set (I was sure many of his patients would follow him here). Allie was a patient when he’d first opened his practice. She’d wanted to date him, but he was gay, so they’d settled into a solid friendship.

After ten years, he, too, was weary of city living, and he and Allie had talked often of leaving. It turns out I’d presented my idea at just the right time. June was the beginning of the summer season, and many of their clients kept weekend homes on the East End, so they would still be able to use Allie’s and Hector’s services. It was also the right place. They both adored Greenport and had visited with me many times over the years.
In addition, they could also still see clients in NYC by driving or taking the Hampton Jitney into the city.

Hector was unconditional in his support of Allie and, by extension, me. He put his two suitcases on the floor, wrapped me in a hug, and said in his singsong Jamaican accent that remained even after twenty years in the United States, “Hello, Willow darling. You hanging in there, my friend?”

Dabbing my eyes and blowing my nose, I said, “Guess so. It was quite a shock.” I recounted the events of the past few days and my fears about being a potential suspect.

Hector rubbed his shaved bronze head and thought about this. “I have a friend who’s an NYPD detective. He told me they always look at relatives first. I wouldn’t panic about that.”

“But Detective Koren keeps making these insinuations, like because of the inheritance I had motive or something. And I’m freaking out about the break-in and the fire. What if they come back? I feel bad about putting you guys in harm’s way, but Allie said you would protect us, Hector.”

Allie put her arm around me. “Hector can handle any situation. Can’t you, love?”

Hector grinned at me, his perfect teeth looking extremely white against his coffee-colored skin. “Just let them try to get past me.”

chapter nine

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I feel like my blood sugar is on a roller coaster after I eat something sweet. I crash and burn and feel exhausted. Is there a natural way to keep my blood sugar in balance?

Signed,

Looking for Balance

Dear Looking for Balance,

Having low blood sugar is known as hypoglycemia. The first step? Stay away from sugary foods and white flour, which is converted into sugar quickly. The next step is to eat several small meals each day so you never get too hungry. Include foods that have complex carbs and protein. For example, if you need a snack, have a low-fat cheese on a whole wheat cracker, instead of that candy bar. Eat foods with fiber, too, which helps to control the release of blood sugar into your system. Taking chromium as a supplement can also help control your blood sugar, and taking glutamine can help curb those sugar cravings.

Signed,

Dr. Willow McQuade

It was nice to have a project to keep me busy, but my heart was still heavy with grief over Aunt Claire’s death, and my skin was tingling with anxiety over what might happen next. After we ate lunch, I took money out of petty cash, and Allie, Hector, and I headed to the hardware store on Main Street. We picked up paint and painting supplies so we could give the two other bedrooms on the third floor a renovation worthy of
Extreme Makeover: Greenport Edition.

We returned with a shade of lemony yellow for Allie’s massage therapy room and a mellow seafoam green for Hector’s acupuncture room. After we moved out the beds and furniture, we placed drop cloths on the floor, donned plastic gloves, and got to work. By the time we were ready for a break, we had put on a fresh coat of paint in each room and painted the ceilings. The transformation was nothing short of miraculous.

Allie’s room benefited from a harbor view that boosted its appeal even more. Hector’s room had a view of the back of the property, which was filled with lovely old trees, so it was nice as well. The plan was for them to see clients in the newly painted spare bedrooms and to live in my bedroom, which had two double beds, and I’d move into Aunt Claire’s room. Once they’d relocated their respective practices to the East End, they’d find somewhere else to live. In the meantime, the rent money for the bedroom and their offices would come in handy, as would their clients, who would likely become customers of the store and café.

While we waited for the paint to dry before putting on a second coat, we went down into the café area for a limeade to refresh ourselves. It was warm upstairs but that seemed par for the course, since the main air-conditioning unit concentrated on cooling the bottom floor. Fans cooled things off on the second and third floors. But when we stepped onto the
bottom floor, the place felt like the Amazon. What was up with the AC? I looked around for my new right hand, Merrily, who was bringing an order to a table of two sitting by the window. I waved her over.

When she reached us, I could see that perspiration dotted her hairline and her face was flushed. “Hey, Willow, I was just coming up to see you.”

“Why is it so hot down here?”

She wiped her face with a napkin from her pocket. “I think the AC is down. It’s been getting hotter and hotter over the past hour. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to run up and tell you.”

I looked around the café. Was she the only one on duty? “Is anyone else helping you?”

She shrugged. “It’s Julian’s day off, and Ron and Stephanie both called in sick. The two of them were tight with Janice, so I’m thinking it’s a show of solidarity.”

Great, now Janice’s malice had extended to my staff? It was getting very difficult not to consider her the enemy. Had she tampered with the AC, too? That aside, Merrily needed help now. And the AC had to be fixed.

Hector, who had apprenticed as an electrician for his father when he was a teenager, and I headed out back to check the cooling unit behind the building. He studied the unit, flipped a couple of switches, turned it back on, and proclaimed it fixed. “Someone turned it off, that’s all. But it will still take some time to cool everything off.”

“But who would tamper with the AC on a hot day like this?”

“Perhaps it is a mischievous spirit,” Hector said, his eyes twinkling.

“I’ll bet it was Janice. She used to work here and has a grudge because she’s not in the will.”

“Yes,” he said, considering this. “That’s a possibility, too.”

We went back inside. While Hector told Allie what had happened, I went to find Merrily in the kitchen. She was there all right, juggling two plates of food and scanning a third order. It seemed we were busy, which was a relief, despite the problems with the air-conditioning.

“Can I help?” I asked her.

She looked at me. “Are you sure?”

“Hey, we’re all in this together. What do you need?”

“I need someone to man the checkout counter.” She pointed to where a woman stood, a pile of bread, cheese, toothpaste, and assorted supplements, among other items, heaped in front of her. “And tables two and four have been waiting for me to take their order.” She pointed out the tables in the brightly colored dining room.

“I’ll man the counter and get Allie to help you. She’s done it before.” Allie had worked at a health food store very much like this one during college. I called her over and explained what we needed.

Merrily handed Allie her order pad. “Could you? I can make up the orders once you have them.”

I considered this. “Does that system work? Where you have to make up your own orders?”

“It’s pretty simple, actually, since most of the dishes aren’t complicated. It works well.” Could we serve more people and do it faster if we had a chef? I wondered. Something to think about.

Allie hustled over to the tables to take the orders. Hector tapped me on the shoulder. “Do you need me to help?”

“You’ve done enough by fixing the AC.” I smiled. “Why don’t you grab a drink and something to eat?” I pointed to the prepared sandwiches in the glass-fronted counter. “Then
if you can, get back to painting. The sooner we get you set up, the sooner we can bring customers in.” We all needed that revenue.

“No problem,” Hector said, squeezing me on the shoulder and giving me a grin. “I’ll be upstairs making it beautiful for you.”

“I know you will. Thank you, Hector.”

“It is my pleasure, truly. I am so happy to be out of the city. It is paradise here.” He grabbed a sandwich and a drink from the refrigerator and headed back upstairs. I felt really lucky to have both of them here. It also tickled me that Hector appreciated the East End the way I did.

As I headed for the counter, the UPS man showed up with a package and left it in the hallway. I gave him a wave and turned my attention to the customer. “Did you find everything you needed?”

A slightly overweight woman with a severe haircut and dressed in a running suit, a toddler clutching her hand, gave me a baleful look. “Not really. I could use some energy.” She looked down at her daughter, whose pretty face was framed with a wild tangle of blond curls. “With this one, I’m going twenty-four/seven.”

“When do you feel tired?” I asked.

“I wake up tired. I have to push myself through the day.”

I appraised her. First of all, she was about twenty pounds overweight. Second, her skin looked dry. She also seemed depressed. Classic signs of hypothyroidism or low thyroid function. “Have you been tested for hypothyroidism?”

She crinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

“It’s when your thyroid gland, located here”—I pointed to the base of my throat—“doesn’t work the way it should. The thyroid gland is the master of your metabolism. So if you aren’t
getting enough thyroid hormone, you gain weight and feel sluggish and moody.”

BOOK: Death Drops
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