Death Drops (27 page)

After ten minutes, I meandered back toward the counter at the back of the store. But I didn’t get that far. At the head of the aisle, the redhead I’d noticed earlier planted herself in front of me and said loudly, “So you’re the one.”

“Excuse me?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Claire Hagan’s niece. The one who’s taking over.”

“And you are?”

She raised her voice, clearly angry. “The person you’ve been harassing by e-mail. Sue Polumbo.”

People who were waiting in line turned to look at us.

“That’s rich,” I said. “I saw the e-mails you sent to my aunt Claire. Talk about harassment.”

“She deserved it.” Her voice rose and she balled her hands into fists and shook them at me. “She almost killed my son Tad!”

This woman clearly had a very short fuse. “Please calm down,” I said as I glanced around at the crowd of people waiting for prescriptions to be filled. They were glued to our conversation as if it were an episode of their favorite TV drama. I lowered my voice and said gently, “I understand you’re upset, but that was not her fault. You didn’t tell my aunt that your son Tad was an asthmatic. She would have told you to see your regular doctor immediately or to go to the emergency room.”

“Of course you’d say that.” Spittle flew from her mouth.

“Ms. McQuade,” the clerk said. “Your prescription is ready.”

Sue laughed bitterly. “A prescription? I thought you believed in natural remedies. You’re just as much of a fraud as your aunt was.”

I moved to the counter, feeling my face turning beet red, paid for the prescription, and turned back to her. “Can we talk about this outside?”

Aunt Claire, Nature’s Way, and I did not need anymore negative publicity.

“Here is fine.” She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her beady eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I had a few questions,” I said. “I’m looking into Claire’s murder.”

“I didn’t kill your aunt,” she snapped. “But I wish I had.” She put her finger in my face, and Qigong growled.

“Easy, boy,” I said.

“Keep that dog away from me,” she snarled, practically spitting the words at me.

I picked Qigong up and waited for her to finish her rant.

“Now, I want you to leave us alone. I know you were talking to Dan’s neighbor about us. I know that you questioned Tad at the Vine Bar. I heard about the fight.” Her voice got louder as she pushed past me and shoved the door open. But before she left, she had one more thing to say: “Your aunt almost killed my son. Nature’s Way should be closed down. Stay out of our lives or you’ll be sorry.”

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I’m expecting, and the morning sickness has been really tough to deal with. Are there any natural remedies for nausea?

Signed,

Feeling Queasy

Dear Feeling Queasy,

Nausea is a very icky feeling. The two most common causes are motion sickness and, as you know, morning sickness. One of the best remedies is ginger. You can brew a nice pot of ginger tea or eat candied ginger, which you can find at your local health food store. For motion sickness, homeopathic remedies such as borax (for airplane travel) and cocculus (for a car or a boat) can help. Applying pressure to the P6 acupuncture point, which is a spot two inches below the wrist, between the two tendons, can also ease nausea.

Signed,

Willow McQuade, ND

I waited a few moments, and then left the drugstore and put Qigong down on the sidewalk. Thankfully, Sue Polumbo was nowhere in sight. Although she’d denied murdering Aunt Claire, she wasn’t off my suspect list. She had much too good of a motive. So did her husband and son, for that matter.

Sucking in a deep breath of salty air to calm my jangled nerves, I headed back to Nature’s Way. Walking past Mitchell Park, I watched as people walked their dogs and kids played, couples lay in the grass and held hands or gazed at the waterfront. The colorful carousel twirled. Sailboats and yachts dotted the bay. In the distance I could hear a band playing at Claudio’s, on the waterfront. At the entrance to the park, near the street, the local shelter had several animals up for adoption. Elizabeth Olberman, Claire’s friend who had spoken to me about the pet store opening in town, manned the table where several cats snoozed in a large cage. I crossed the street to talk to her.

“Willow,” Elizabeth said as she got up and came around the table to greet me. A large black cat nestled comfortably in her arms. “How are you doing, dear?”

I tried to shake off my encounter with Sue. “I’m fine, all things considered. How are you?”

“I’m well,” she said. “Are you looking for a cat to adopt? Midnight is a great feline.” She stroked the cat, which began to purr.

“No,” I said. “I’ve got Ginkgo and Ginger and I just adopted Qigong here. I think he was neglected by his former owner.”

She scratched Qigong behind the ears and he wagged his tail. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. “What a sweetheart he is. Good for you, Willow,” she said. “It’s amazing some people are even allowed to have pets. And those new pet shop owners will sell to anybody. No references as with a shelter or a rescue adoption.”

“Speaking of the pet shop boys,” I said, and told her about the run-in with Lenny and Billy at the Vine Bar.

“Oh my,” she said. “I’m not surprised. They’ve managed to push the hearing back a week, but we’re still determined to close them down.”

“I’m wondering if they threatened Aunt Claire? Or you?”

She waved that off. “They don’t scare me, and they didn’t scare Claire. She went toe-to-toe with them. Went right down there and told them what was what.”

“So she didn’t seem frightened of them?”

A young girl and her mother came up to the table and looked at the cats in the cage. Before she went over to them, Elizabeth added, “She said we had to do what was right. Fear was not an option.”

Qigong and I crossed the
street and walked past Starbucks. I paused in front of a real estate office to browse the pictures of houses in the window. I couldn’t afford it now, but maybe someday I’d move to a cottage. I was in no hurry, though, as the third floor of Nature’s Way with a view of the bay suited me just fine.

In the reflection of the window, I noticed Janice walking toward the post office. I turned from the window to watch her. She wore jeans and a sleeveless blouse and held a very expensive-looking pocketbook, which made me wonder if she had stolen that five hundred dollars from the register or if she was expecting a windfall from the contested will.

But even more suspicious was the fact that she continued past the post office to Nature’s Best and met Gavin Milton outside. She pulled a fat white envelope out of the pocketbook and handed it to him. He opened it, plucked out a big wad of cash, and went inside.

Why would Janice be delivering money to Gavin? Was it from Polly? Did he have a stake in Polly’s Peaceful Yoga?

Janice turned and headed back past Mitchell Park. She spotted me across the street but acted like she hadn’t and kept going. I decided to confront her.

When Qigong and I got to the middle of the crosswalk, a black Ford truck that looked suspiciously like the truck that had run Allie and me off the road, drove right toward me, going at least fifty-five in a twenty-five-mile-per-hour zone and with, it seemed, no intention of stopping. Realizing this, I scooped up Qigong, ran as fast as I could to the opposite side of the street, and tumbled onto the grass in Mitchell Park. When I got up, Janice was gone.

Janice was not going to
get away so easily. After checking to make sure Qigong was okay, I got to my feet and we headed for Polly’s Peaceful Yoga. As I crossed Front Street, I spotted Nick sitting in his old Volvo station wagon, fighting with Polly. Polly thrust her index finger in Nick’s face repeatedly until he batted it away. Her response was to slap him across the face and jump out of the car. She stalked across the street and into the shop. He yelled after her and began to give chase, but I planted myself in front of him. “Nick, we have to talk.”

Looking sheepish, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Now is not a good time,” he said, glancing past me to the studio where a yoga class was in session.

I followed his gaze but didn’t see Janice or Polly, so I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward his car. “Please get inside.”

Nick threw Polly’s Peaceful Yoga a backward glance, opened the driver’s side door, and got in. I got in the passenger side and put Qigong on my lap. “Drive.”

I guess he could see by the expression on my face that I
meant business, because he said, “Where?” and turned the key in the ignition.

“Sixty-seven Steps.”

He turned the car onto Front Street and drove a mile or so along the tree-canopied road, edged with charming Victorian and Craftsman houses, until he reached the North Road. He took a right, and then a quick left onto the road that led to 67 Steps, a local beach on the Sound. We didn’t talk, and the smell of rum was heavy in the car. This, too, would need to be dealt with.

When we reached the end of the road, I got out. The water sparkled like crystals under the sun. Down below, colorful umbrellas spotted the beach. To the right, I could see the tip of Island’s End, one of the few eighteen-hole golf courses on the North Fork.

I turned and glanced at Nick, still sitting behind the wheel, motioned him to get out, and then headed down the stairs. Qigong could use a proper walk. And so could I. The view as I descended was breathtaking, the aqua-blue water, the white rocky beach, the large boulders standing in the shallows like sentries. I loved being near the water, and considering how crazy things had been recently, I didn’t want to miss this chance to dip my toes in. Besides, I’ve found that beach walking is good for the soul. And for bearing secrets of the soul.

Nick followed me down without a word. When I reached the bottom, I let Qigong off his leash, walked over the rocky shore to the water’s edge, kicked off my Crocs, and put my feet in the water. It felt wonderful. Better than any spa treatment.

He came over and stood next to me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Tell me, then,” I said as the water lapped at my feet.

Nick stared at the Connecticut shoreline across the Sound. “You think something is going on between Polly and me.”

I turned to him. “Well, is it?” I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and took it out to see who was calling. Simon. I put it back in my pocket.

Nick sighed. “Years ago, before Claire, yes, we went out a few times. But once Claire and I got involved, it was over. But even though Polly married Gavin, she never quite let go. I think she had the idea that if she got me to come work for her at Peaceful Yoga, it might bring us back together. But I told her I couldn’t do that to Claire. After she was killed, Polly came back to me again.” Nick turned to me, an apologetic expression on his face. “But I can’t do that to you. I’ve said no to her a dozen times, but she’s persistent. She keeps calling. That’s why I went there today, to finally have it out. You can see how it went.” He pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a drink.

“It’s awfully early for a drink. It’s not even noon,” I admonished as I put my shoes back on and we started to walk on the beach. A seagull landed on a nearby boulder with a conch shell in its beak. Lunch.

“I know,” he said, shoving the flask back into his pocket. “A few years ago, I thought I might have a problem with drinking, so I gave it up. After what happened with Claire, I went back to it. Now it’s like I never quit.” He picked up a purplish-blue stone, examined it, and threw it in the water.

“Alcoholism is a progressive disease, Nick,” I said as I stepped among the large rocks at the shoreline. I’d seen many clients who struggled with alcoholism. The best approach was multidimensional and included a support group like Alcoholics Anonymous, counseling, and even acupuncture. Since alcohol keeps the body from absorbing vital nutrients, I also add a combination of supplements, including a vitamin-B complex, vitamin C, selenium, magnesium, and zinc. Amino acids such as carnitine, glutamine, and glutathione can help reduce cravings,
as can homeopathic remedies such as Lachesis. And herbs like milk thistle can help improve liver function and support detoxification of the body. I combine such herbs with dandelion to help reduce withdrawal symptoms. I told all this to Nick.

“I know natural remedies can help. But it’s hard to admit I have a problem. Especially since I’m a yoga teacher. It sends a great message, you know?” His shoulders slumped.

I touched his arm. “You’re human. Aunt Claire’s death was devastating for you. People will understand. Especially if you get help.”

“The rest of it sounds good. But I’ve been to AA,” Nick said. “And local meetings are out. There are people there I don’t want to see. They’ve threatened me about Polly.”

“Who did?” I watched as Qigong darted along the shoreline, sniffing everything. Paradise.

“I’m not supposed to say. It’s supposed to be anonymous.”

I had an idea of who it was. “Let me guess, Gavin Milton?”

He shook his head. “I really can’t say.”

“Nick, I’m not going to tell anyone, but I need to know. It might have something to do with the case. About who murdered Aunt Claire and took the formula. You need to tell me.”

He stopped and gazed out at the water, as if he might find the answer there. And I guess he did. He turned to me and said, “It’s Milton and Dan Polumbo.”

“And they’ve actually threatened you?”
I mulled this over as we continued our walk down the beach.

“Yes, the two of them cornered me one night in the parking lot and told me to stay away from Polly. I tried to explain, but Milton wasn’t having any of it.”

“Polly isn’t making it any easier on you.”

“That’s for sure.”

We followed the water’s edge around the curve of the beach and came upon Stephen, who lay on a large beach blanket wearing a bright-colored tropical swimsuit and soaking up the rays. I’d forgotten he had the day off. Really, we needed him at the store, but I didn’t want to burn out my staff. He was working six days a week as it was. And it was only June. I knew I needed to hire more help, but to do that required money.