Death Drops (18 page)

Nothing happened? Nothing happened when? I had an unsettled feeling I didn’t like. Was it possible there had been an incident between Nick and Polly? And if so, when? Thoughts swirled around in my head like a swarm of bees. I made my way to my office, and fortunately, Jackson was off the phone.

“Mike get you taken care of?”

“I guess so. He hasn’t come down from the roof yet.” I flopped into the guest chair and blew out a breath. I felt guilty talking about Nick, but I had to confide in someone. “I’ve come across something kind of disturbing.”

Jackson leaned across the desk, folded his hands, and gave me a 100-watt stare. “So spill.”

“Gavin Milton’s ex-wife is a yoga student here.”

“So?”

“So it seems Gavin thought that Nick and Polly were having an affair. I asked Nick about it, and he said, ‘Nothing happened.’ What I want to know is, what almost happened? Did they almost have an affair? Did Claire know?”

“If they did have an affair and Gavin knew about it, it would be more likely that he’d go after Nick, not Claire,” Jackson said, and leaned back in his chair.

“But if she wanted Nick, maybe she killed Claire,” I said.

“That’s a stretch,” Jackson said. “But you never know. Let me look into it.”

After Jackson filled me in
on his interview with Stephen, which hadn’t resulted in any new information, he left to do some digging about the Milton divorce. Mike came down from the roof and gave me the bad news: the entire roof needed to be replaced. I took a deep breath and told him to go ahead, even though I had no idea how I was going to pay for it. Maybe once we had a new roof and Allie and Hector started to generate income, it would all take care of itself. I held on to that good thought.

I decided to go upstairs and spy on Nick’s yoga session. I felt bad about doubting him, but I had to know everything in order to figure out who had murdered Aunt Claire. She was my top priority.

The door to the yoga studio was open and I was able to see into the room. There, ten students sat cross-legged on yoga mats. Nick was leading a meditation to begin the session. I spied Polly in the front row and noticed that she didn’t have her eyes closed in concentration. No, her eyes were open, watching Nick. She had a peculiar look on her face, smug and satisfied, like the cat that ate the canary.

Nick must have felt her eyes on him, because he opened his and looked at her. Something passed between them, a connection, then Nick shook his head at her and closed his eyes again, settling into his meditation. Suddenly, Polly spotted me in the hall, and a look passed over her face, like a storm cloud, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. She quickly readjusted her posture and closed her eyes.

Moving away from the door, I tried to get a grip on the anger I felt bubbling up inside of me. That witch. How dare she? Aunt Claire didn’t deserve this. I took a couple of deep breaths, headed down the hallway, and pulled out my cell phone to call Jackson. Unfortunately, he didn’t answer, so I left word for him to call me.

Allie and Hector were going to try to finish painting today, and I decided now would be a good time to check on them. They were busy painting the trim in their respective rooms. Buckets were still catching the raindrops that dripped from the ceiling, but it looked like they were making progress just the same. The positive vibes that flowed from them made the place seem brighter somehow. “It looks really good, guys.”

Allie put her brush down and surveyed her room. “I’m almost done. My massage table should be delivered today. But I was wondering about other furniture. Is there a thrift shop or something like that around here? Hector needs stuff, too.”

“I could use a rug and a desk, maybe a vase, too,” Hector yelled from the green room.

I thought about our options. There was a thrift store that donated its profits to the local animal shelter, but I hadn’t seen any furniture there. Antique stores would probably be too pricey, but yard sales were right in our budget. “I’ll get the paper and check the yard sales. There are always a ton, and you can get some great stuff. We could go tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Allie said, dipping her brush into the can of white paint. “I like yard sales. It’s like a treasure hunt.”

“Me too,” Hector said, coming in to join us. “You never know what you might find.”

I left them there to finish up, and when I got to the second floor, my phone rang. It was Jackson. “Thanks for calling
me back,” I said as I descended to the bottom floor. “I’ve got news.” I told him what had happened in the yoga studio.

“It’s not enough to prove something is going on between them,” Jackson said. “But something definitely was bad in the Milton marriage. Seems the police got a few calls from the neighbors about domestic disturbances. They got into it pretty good.”

“Did he hit her?”

“No, nothing like that. They were just disturbing the peace. The cops gave them a warning, but then it happened two more times. Neighbors were worried it was going to get violent.”

“Maybe they were fighting about Nick,” I said, hating the fact that I was doubting his devotion to Aunt Claire.

“Maybe. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later when I know more.”

“Thanks, Jackson.” Now I definitely had to include Gavin and Polly Milton in my pool of suspects. I headed up the dry-goods aisle to the counter to check the paper for upcoming yard sales and found Gavin Milton, his face beet red, tearing into Stephen. He wore a Powerhouse Gym T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and looked tough.

“You’re working here? For the competition?” He glared at Stephen like he wanted him dead.

Stephen took a step back and put his hands up. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Gavin,” I said. “I think you should leave.”

He sneered at me. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, lady.” He shook his finger at me. “It’s not bad enough that your family wrecked my marriage; now you’re stealing my help.”

“Wrecked your marriage?”

He scowled. “Don’t pull that innocent act with me. You know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ask Nick about his little project with Polly.”

Several yoga students walked past us. The class must be over. I said a silent prayer that Gavin would leave before Nick or Polly appeared. Fortunately, Gavin’s phone rang. He plucked it out of his pocket and answered it. “What?” he snapped, and headed for the door. “I’m coming. Hold on.” He turned around and glared at Stephen. “You owe me. I want payment in full.”

“What was that all about?” I asked Stephen after Gavin had banged out.

Stephen looked sheepish. “I did some betting on the side and lost. I owe him three thousand dollars.”

Gulp. It looked like I had complicated my life considerably by hiring not only the competitor’s employee but one who also owed him a big wad of cash. “Can you pay him back?”

“I’m working on it, but he keeps complaining that it’s not fast enough.” He glanced at the tables in the dining room. “I’d better get back to work. I don’t want to lose this job.”

“You’re doing fine,” I said, ignoring the red warning light about him and his situation. “Don’t worry.” Worrying was my job. And I had plenty to keep me busy.

I turned to head back upstairs to talk to Nick when I spotted him by the back door with Polly. He opened the door and they walked outside. I zoomed down the aisle to try and talk to him before he left, but by the time I got there, he was down the stairs and opening his car door. Polly was already in her car. I waved to him, but either he didn’t see me or he was ignoring me. He started the engine, backed out, and drove down the driveway, with Polly following him. Time to play detective.

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I have irritable bowel syndrome and suffer from abdominal cramps. I alternate between constipation and diarrhea. Are there any ways to make my digestive system work more efficiently?

Signed,

Coming and Going

Dear Coming and Going,

If you have irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), you are not alone. One in five Americans have it. The first step is to remove fatty foods and beverages, such as coffee and sodas, which irritate and inflame the bowel. Allergies to wheat, dairy, or corn can also aggravate IBS. I suggest adding fiber slowly to your diet and choosing whole wheat grains and breads. You can also put a tablespoon or two of flax-seed powder on a salad. Research shows that enteric-coated peppermint-oil capsules can help ease IBS, especially taken with clown’s mustard. Using probiotics or so-called friendly bacteria can also improve bowel health. Take coated probiotic “pearls” for best effect. Yoga can also ease the effects of IBS.

Signed,

Dr. Willow McQuade

The rain had stopped, which would make my job easier. I hopped into Allie’s Bug, since her keys were in the ignition and my car was still in the shop, and followed them out of town to the North Road, headed east. Nick lived in a tiny cottage on the water in East Marion, a small town on the way to Orient. I wended down the road, past the public golf course, the Hellenic Snack Bar, various developments, and Sep’s Farm. Nick took the right before the Lavender by the Bay farm and drove south into Gardiners Bay Estates, a small enclave on Gardiners’ Bay with summer cottages and year-round residences. Polly remained close behind. I took the right and followed them.

Nick continued down the country lane, past a farm field, fallow with rich, brown earth. A tractor moved back and forth, turning the ground for planting. When the road forked, he headed south toward the water. A few moments later he pulled up in front of his house, an old-style Craftsman located on the dead end, facing the pristine, blue bay. Polly pulled up behind him and they both got out and entered Nick’s cottage without speaking.

Pulling over to the side of the road, I turned the engine off. Now what? Did I go inside and confront them? Or sneak around the house and try to see inside? I decided to spy first and confront later. I scurried toward the house, sidled up to the window of the small sitting room in the front, and peeked in.

Nick and Polly were already in the middle of a heated conversation. Nick’s face was red, and I wondered if it had to do with the alcohol he’d been drinking. He had a tumbler of what looked like Scotch in his hand. But maybe he was just angry. Nick strode toward Polly, who sat on the couch, and jabbed his finger into her face. “We agreed to keep this between us. Why did you tell Gavin?”

Polly pouted. “I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I was just happy you were going to help me.”

Nick’s face screwed into a frown. “Can’t you see? This just feeds his insane jealousy. And if he tells anyone, it will look like I was disloyal to Claire. I just can’t have that, Polly.”

“What’s the big deal? All you said was that you would teach at my studio.”

“I was thinking about it. I would have had to clear it with Claire, but I never got that chance.” He downed the drink and refilled his glass at the bar.

Polly got up and went over to him. “But now you can do whatever you want.” She put her hand on his shoulder.

Nick shrugged it off. “I have to think of Willow. She needs my clients. The store needs the business. Now that you’re open in Greenport instead of Riverhead, I can’t work with you. You’re the competition now.”

“But you have to!” Polly whined. “I was counting on you.”

“I can’t.”

Polly headed for the door. “Just think about it, please, Nickie?”

Nick took another swig of Scotch. “I have, Polly. The answer is no.”

Polly left the house, plucked
out her phone, and punched in a number. When whoever she was calling answered, she began to rant, gesturing wildly. She jumped into her car and took off. Although I did need to talk to Nick, including regarding his drinking, I knew where to find him. I decided to stay on Polly.

Turning my car around, I followed Polly back onto the main road and into town. At the intersection of East Front Street and Main, she made a left, drove a few yards, and parked in front of Polly’s Peaceful Yoga, a store tucked between an embroidery shop and a travel agency.

This was the business Nick was talking about. But he wasn’t going to help her now. Would her desire to have Nick teach at her studio have been enough to push her over the edge and cause her to kill Claire? Or was she in love with him as well? That would certainly give her motive to continue to take classes from him at Nature’s Way when she had her own studio right here.

I drove past, turned around, and parked on the opposite side of the street. Inside, Polly was chatting with, of all people, Janice, who wore a bright white apron with Polly’s Peaceful Yoga written on the front. So she’d joined up with a competitor of Nature’s Way. As they talked, Polly got more and more agitated, probably relating the events at Nick’s house. Janice gave her a concerned look and patted her on the back.

I had to admit, the store was a nice space. To the left was the studio, with bright white, mirrored walls and dark teak floors; to the right, where Janice and Polly stood, was a small store chock-full of supplements and other natural remedies. So she was in competition not only for my yoga clientele but for my health food store customers as well. Greenport had such a huge influx of visitors from May to December that ordinarily this wouldn’t be an issue, but since Nature’s Way was in debt, I needed to make as much money as possible right now.

My first instinct was to jump out of the car, run across the street, and confront them, but I didn’t think that would end well. Before I got to my second big idea, my iPhone trilled in my pocket. I plucked it out and looked at the display. The store. “What’s up, Merrily?”

“Uh, Dr. McQuade, it’s Stephen. Your mother is here and she’s pretty upset. She says she needs to talk to you right away.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. She’s seems mad about something.”

Uh-oh. “Please put her in my office. I’ll be right there.”

Outside Nature’s Way, I found
Stephen holding Qigong. “Don’t tell me. My mother kicked you both out.”

He shrugged. “I guess she doesn’t like animals?”