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Authors: Chrystle Fiedler

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BOOK: Death Drops
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Merrily shrugged. “I just don’t think she would do that.”

Jackson flipped the notebook closed. “Sue Polumbo, your e-mail admirer? Jane Marsh, the lady who was complaining before?”

I labeled a few more bottles. “Actually, I was thinking it might be Dr. Neville, the dermatologist.” I related what had happened at his office.

Jackson stood up and winced. “I can check him out. Could be your aunt went to consult with him, he got wind of what a
moneymaker the formula might be, and he decided to steal it. Then decided he wanted you out of the way. And we still don’t know if Gavin was involved in any of these other pranks, so I say he stays on the list. This may be more complicated than we originally thought. I’d like to talk to this Stephen.”

“He’ll be here in the morning,” I said.

“I’ll come by and see him then.” Jackson gingerly put his coat back on. Clearly, he was still in pain.

I put down a bottle of fish oil I’d tagged and went over to talk to him before he left. “How are you doing? Feeling any better at all?”

He shrugged. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d say I’m a five. The devil’s claw helped, but I’d still like to take you up on the offer of massage and acupuncture.”

I smiled at him. “As soon as Allie and Hector are set up, you’ll be the first patient, gratis. Especially after those roses.”

He smiled and squeezed my arm. “They weren’t a bribe, McQuade. I thought they would make you happy.”

“They did,” I said, still smiling at him. “And we will help you with treatments. It’ll make a big difference.”

Allie appeared at the counter and headed toward us. “That may take longer than we thought.”

“We’ve got a problem,” Allie
said. “The roof is leaking in the workrooms.”

“Oh no,” I said, immediately seeing dollar signs. “What about the bedrooms? The studio?”

She shook her head. “I checked. It’s not leaking anywhere but into our rooms. You’d better come up and see.”

The four of us went upstairs and found Hector trying to place empty paint cans under the drips coming from the ceiling
in his room, but he didn’t have enough. Water dribbled down from multiple places in the ceiling. I groaned. Another problem. Lately they seemed endless.

Allie pointed at the ceiling. “It just started up a few minutes ago, when the storm got worse. If you look in my room,” she said as she led us next door and pointed at the drips coming from her ceiling, “you can see it’s almost as bad.”

What a disaster! I didn’t have the money to fix this section of the roof, but if I didn’t correct it, Allie and Hector couldn’t see clients and bring in more income. Not to mention that this part of the roof might fall in, a small consideration.

“I’ll go down and get some buckets,” Merrily said. “I know we have a few in the kitchen.”

I thanked her and studied the ceiling in Allie’s room. “Why did this have to happen now?”

“I know,” Allie said, putting her arm around me. “The timing stinks. We really wanted to be up and running by next week.”

“You still will be,” I said, determined to fix this as soon as possible. But how?

“You might want to call Mike Bowden,” Jackson said, surveying the damage. “He’s a good roofer, and I think he’d work with you on payment.”

“You do?”

Jackson shrugged. “He did some work on my house a few years ago and I’ve recommended him to a half a dozen people. I can put in a good word for you if you like.”

“That would be great,” I said, relieved.

“Okay, then, I’ll give him a call.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked to the window at the end of the hallway that overlooked the bay. Rain still came down in sheets. Mother Nature definitely was not playing nice.

Allie watched him walk away, then leaned over to me and whispered, “He is so cute. Yummy.”

“He’s just helping me with the case,” I said, although it did feel like something was starting between us. “In exchange, I promised him your services, and Hector’s, too. His back is bothering him. He took a slip on the ice while chasing a suspect.”

“No problem,” Allie said, watching him talk on his cell phone. “So, are you interested in him?”

I was attracted to Jackson, but I felt too preoccupied with worries about the state of Claire’s business, all those overdue bills, the repairs that needed to be done, who Claire’s killer was, and the location of the Fresh Face formula to really turn my attention to a potential love interest. Not to mention the fact that Simon had reappeared in my life. I wanted to keep the promise of a relationship between Jackson and me private, for now. It felt like a tender sprout that needed to be nurtured. Rather than share my feelings, I said, “I think my plate is full.”

She nudged me as he clicked off the phone and headed over to us. “Willow, for a man like that, you make room.”

chapter fourteen

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I ate at a new restaurant last night and now I have food poisoning. I’ve been spending most of my time in the bathroom. Is there something natural I can take to feel better?

Signed,

Bad Tummy Ache

Dear Bad Tummy Ache,

Food poisoning is a result of bacteria such as
E. coli
and salmonella in food. That’s why it’s important to store and cook meat, chicken, and fish correctly. To treat the symptoms of food poisoning try umeboshi, pickled Japanese ume plum. You can also try a nice cup of peppermint tea. Make sure you stay hydrated! You’ll find a ready-to-make electrolyte mix at your health food store.

Signed,

Dr. Willow McQuade

Luckily Mike, Jackson’s roofer, was available and would be able to come over the next morning. I went to bed at eleven, after making sure all the buckets in Allie’s and Hector’s rooms had been emptied, since it was still raining. I’d trolled through a hundred more e-mails but didn’t find anything that referred to Sue Polumbo or Dr. Neville or looked suspicious.

I also had to put out a few fires in L.A. Dr. Richmond-Safer had questions about my treatment plans for several patients. We conferred and decided on the best course of action for each. Otherwise, he said things were going pretty smoothly and that he’d call me with any questions and concerns. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, but my mind didn’t stop working, and I dreamed about Aunt Claire’s murder.

When I woke up at eight o’clock Thursday morning, I felt exhausted. I did my yoga, did a short seated meditation, showered, and headed downstairs to find Merrily and Stephen already in full server mode, taking care of early morning customers.

Since everything was under control, I headed into the kitchen to grab a muffin and some coffee. As I did, Stephen came up next to me. “Hey, boss!” he said, sounding like the excited newbie he was.

Pouring the dark liquid into a mug, I checked in. “How’s it going so far?”

He grabbed two purple ceramic Life is good mugs from the shelf next to me. “Really well, although Gavin wasn’t too happy about my leaving without giving him any notice.” He frowned. “Actually, he was really pissed.”

I hoped that didn’t mean more trouble. I had my hands full. My cell rang, and I looked at the caller ID. Koren. Speaking of trouble. I said hello and held my breath.

“It’s Detective Koren. Just calling you to update you on that hit-and-run. I think we found the car in question up by the
dump, but it had no ID. The VIN showed it belonged to Frank Stafford of Riverhead, but that seems to be a dead end. Stafford is a retired cop from Queens. Can you remember anything else about the driver?”

I thought about the man in the truck. I hadn’t been able to see his face, but I remembered that the baseball cap he’d been wearing had some sort of insignia on it. I told Koren this.

“Okay, if you think of anything new, let me know. And, Dr. McQuade?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t leave town.”

I said good-bye feeling nauseous. I was still on the suspect hit parade and it really, really scared me. How many innocent people were in jail, I wondered. I did not want to be one of them.

Stephen arched an eyebrow and gave me an inquiring look. Before I could reply, the front door opened and Jackson came inside. The rain must have been coming down really hard because when he shook out his coat, water droplets splattered on the entryway rug.

“Speaking of Gavin, a friend of mine, Jackson Spade, wants to ask you a few questions about him. He’s here now.” I gestured in Jackson’s direction and Stephen turned to look.

“Don’t know what I can tell him that I didn’t tell you. But sure, I’ll talk to him. Let me just serve these two coffees.” He quickly poured two cups and headed for a table where two men sat, chatting.

Jackson hung up his coat and came over to me. “Good morning,” he said, and nodded in Stephen’s direction. “That the guy?”

“That’s him.” I caught Stephen’s eye and waved him over. “Do you want to talk in my office?”

“Sounds good,” Jackson said.

As Stephen headed to the office, I pulled Jackson aside and told him about Koren’s call and how it had freaked me out. “Please try to find out something, anything, that can help us,” I said. “I’m really scared.”

Jackson took my hand. “McQuade, it’s early days yet. Try to remain calm. I know it’s not easy.” He motioned to Stephen that he’d be right there. “I promised I’d help. Let me try, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay, I’m calm.”

Jackson laughed. “Sure you are.” He squeezed my hand and went to meet with Stephen.

Meanwhile, I switched gears and dealt with Mike, the roofer. After we went upstairs and he surveyed the damage, he gave me his assessment. Then he pointed to the ceiling in Allie’s room, and said, “You’re gonna need to fix this. You’re lucky it hasn’t fallen in.”

Oh no! Another problem. I struggled to find a solution. “Can you just fix the roof over these two rooms?” I asked him, hoping to save money. “The other side isn’t affected.”

“Let me get up there and take a better look. You might be able to do a patch job, but my feeling is, when these types of things start to happen, it’s time to replace the whole thing.”

I was afraid of that.

The rain let up a bit so, a few minutes later, he was able to go up onto the roof and check it out. I could hear him tromping around. I hoped he wouldn’t come crashing through into the room below, but I had to think he knew what he was doing. Heading downstairs to check on Jackson and Stephen, I spotted Stephen back at work and, when I looked into the office, found Jackson on his cell. He held up a finger for me to wait.

Students started arriving for Nick’s eleven o’clock yoga class. A pretty blonde with a dancer’s body, wearing a Nature’s Best T-shirt and leggings and holding a hot pink yoga mat, had stopped to talk to Stephen. I couldn’t remember seeing her here before, and the fact that she was wearing our competitor’s T-shirt made me curious. She finished her conversation with Stephen and headed past me to the stairs and the yoga studio. As she did, Stephen started back into the kitchen. I drank the last of my coffee and went that way, too, hoping to get some information about the mysterious blonde.

Putting my cup down, I reached for the coffeepot. Stephen was at the adjacent counter reheating vegetable quesadillas. He put three on a tray and slid them into the toaster oven.

I filled my cup and turned to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, boss, what do you need?” He leaned in and checked the quesadillas, then pulled a plate off the shelf above the counter.

“That woman who was talking to you, does she work across the street, too?”

“You mean Polly Milton? She’s Gavin’s wife. I mean ex-wife.”

Aunt Claire’s chief rival’s ex-wife took yoga classes at Nature’s Way? I definitely needed more info. I decided to start with the basics. “How long has she been taking classes here?”

Stephen thought about this. “For a while. When I started working for Gavin, she was over here two, three times a week. He definitely didn’t want her to do it, but we didn’t have classes so . . .”

“When did they get divorced?”

He reached into the small refrigerator under the counter, pulled out ready-made cups of salsa and sour cream, and put them on the plate. “About six months ago. I think it had something to do with that yoga instructor named Nick. Gavin got it into his head that they were having an affair.”

Nick having an affair behind Aunt Claire’s back? And with the wife of Aunt Claire’s chief rival? This didn’t sound right. I took a sip of coffee and mulled it over.

Stephen pulled the quesadillas out of the toaster oven. “Is that it? I need to serve this.”

I waved him on. “Go ahead.” I headed for the office to talk to Jackson, but just then the front door opened and Nick entered. He looked exhausted. His eyes were red and his color was off.

“How are you doing, kid?” he said, drawing me into a bear hug, then pointing at my neon-green cast. “What happened to your arm?”

“I had a little accident,” I replied, appraising him. He hadn’t shaved, and he smelled of alcohol again. “You don’t look so good.”

He shrugged. “Can’t sleep. I’m not used to . . .”

“Being alone?”

“Yes, that’s it. We weren’t together every night, since Claire had her apartment here, but most nights we were. I can’t get used to it. It feels strange and wrong.”

“It is wrong. But I’ve been trying to make it right.” I told him what I’d been up to, investigating Aunt Claire’s death.

“You’ve been busy,” he said. The door opened and more yoga students headed upstairs. “Let me know how I can help,” he said, and checked his watch. “I’d better go up.”

I pulled on his arm to stop him from leaving. “I just found out one of your students is Gavin Milton’s ex-wife.”

“Polly, yes.”

“Has she been taking your class for a long time?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “About a year, why do you ask?”

Infidelity wasn’t an easy subject to broach, but I had to know. “Stephen, my new server, used to work for Gavin, and he told me Gavin was jealous of you two.”

“Jealous, why?”

I blurted it out: “He thought you were having an affair.”

Nick rubbed his chin. “That was all in his mind. Nothing happened,” he said brusquely. “I’ve got to go up.” I watched as he hurried down the aisle and upstairs.

BOOK: Death Drops
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