Death of a Chocoholic (14 page)

“I'm calling the police!” Marla screeched as she poked her head over Aaron's shoulder as he stood in the doorway.

Aaron turned to her. “No, Marla, no one's calling the police.”

“But, Dr. Palmer, they can't just burst in here and rifle through your files. That's against the law and they should be arrested!”

Aaron took Marla's hands into his own and squeezed.

She swooned, and the hard look on her face instantly melted.

“I'm guessing Ms. Powell and her friend—”

“Liddy Crawford,” Liddy cooed, batting her eyes, struck by the doctor's good looks.

“Nice to meet you. I'm guessing Ms. Powell and Ms. Crawford were just being overzealous in their pursuit of justice.”

He made their breaking-and-entering attempt sound almost noble.

God, he was sexy.

“Pursuit of what? I don't understand,” Marla huffed. “I really think I should call Chief Alvares and get him down here. This woman has clearly been trying to insinuate herself into your life for nefarious reasons. It's a good thing we found out now before you opened your heart and she stomped on it. You need someone who would rather be dragged along the ground, tied to the back of a speeding pickup truck, than do anything that would make you unhappy. . . .”

Aaron held his hand up in front of her. “Okay, Marla, I want you to stop and take a deep breath for me.”

Marla obediently followed his instructions, mesmerized by his penetrating eyes.

“That's good. Now hold it a minute and release,” he said, still holding her hands.

Marla let out a
whoosh
of air.

“Feel better?”

She nodded.

“Good. Now there are a couple of pet owners out in reception still filling out paperwork. Why don't you go check on their progress?”

“Yes, Dr. Palmer,” Marla said, with a fawning smile, spinning around like Julie Andrews in the Swiss Alps, and floating back out front.

Aaron watched her go; then he turned back to Hayley and Mona. “Am I right to assume this has something to do with Bessie Winthrop?”

Hayley nodded.

Liddy stepped forward and smiled brightly at the doctor. “I'm surprised at you, Hayley. How could you think this tall hunk of a man could possibly have done anything sordid? One look into those gorgeous eyes will tell you the man is completely innocent.”

“I never said I thought you did it,” Hayley tried to explain to Aaron, who was still not smiling.

“Then what are you doing in my office, on my computer?” Aaron asked, stepping into the office and closing the door.

“As you know, I've been conducting my own little investigation, trying to prove that there was more to Bessie's death than clogged arteries—”

“I'm aware of that, Hayley. I was with you at the Garbers' house when you decided to tear apart their bedroom, looking for evidence to connect them to this so-called crime.”

“Yes, well, recently I came in contact with someone who saw you having an argument with Bessie on her front lawn before she died.”

“That someone was Mayor Richards, I presume?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“It was hard to miss her. She was gawking at us for so long as she drove by the house that she almost drove her Volvo right into a telephone pole.”

“So it's true? You were arguing with Bessie?”

“Yes,” Aaron said matter-of-factly.

Liddy moaned. She wasn't quite ready to face the fact that Dr. Palmer was anything but Mr. Perfect in the flesh.

“I was making a house call. One of Bessie's cats was hiding under the couch and not eating. Turns out the cat was pregnant. Just what that household needed. More cats. As I left, I scolded Bessie for having too many pets. The condition of her house was unsanitary. It was an unhealthy environment for her
and
the cats. I told her she needed to find other homes for some of them. She didn't take kindly to me telling her what to do. She just blew up at me.”

“Yes, Bessie did have a temper,” Hayley said. “So that's what you were talking about when you said you were giving her a last warning?”

“I told her if she refused to take action, I was going to be forced to call animal control. That's when she really went nuts. I barely got out of there with my life.”

“I see,” Hayley said, suddenly feeling foolish.

“You could've just called me up and asked me, instead of breaking into my office,” Aaron said.

“That's what
I
told her,” Liddy said, before turning her head sideways and then whispering to Hayley, “I figure you've already blown it, so maybe I have a chance.”

“So you honestly thought I was capable of murder?” Aaron asked. There was a sad, disappointed look on his face.

Hayley suddenly knew what Marla was talking about. She would rather be dragged through the streets, tied to the back of a pickup truck, than see that hurt look again.

Her phone buzzed and she yanked it out of her jeans pocket.

It was a text from Sal.

Hayley looked up at Aaron. “I'm sorry. I have to go. It's a work thing.”

Aaron nodded. “Okay. See you around.”

It sounded like he didn't mean it.

“I have nowhere to go,” Liddy said. “I can stay.”

“I'm afraid I have some work to do. Like your friend Mona's dog. The flea problem? She's outside waiting. Unless that was just an excuse to come over here.”

“No, trust me. That's real. They're going to have to put a tent over Mona's house,” Liddy said as Aaron opened the door to his office and ushered them out.

Hayley stopped and opened her mouth to say something to Aaron, but nothing came out. He gave her a slight nod and a thin smile. She felt silly, just standing there with her mouth hanging open, so she kept going. She walked out of the vet's office and never looked back.

It was a short walk down Cottage Street to the pharmacy. Liddy spent the entire time apologizing for inappropriately hitting on Hayley's man. Hayley explained that he wasn't her man. There was nothing between them, so Liddy should absolutely go for it. Liddy veered off to Drinks Like A Fish to pick up her car, and Hayley continued on to the pharmacy. A squad car was parked out front, with the blue lights flashing. Hayley entered to find the pharmacist on duty, Jimmy MacDonald, being interviewed by Officers Donnie and Earl, two young local cops with reputations for being, well, young and wet behind the ears when it came to police work.

So wet they were almost drowning.

Hayley waited patiently for the officers to finish with their questioning and start writing out a report.

Jimmy noticed Hayley and waved her over.

“You covering this for the paper, Hayley?”

“Yeah, how's it going, Jimmy?”

Jimmy MacDonald was in his sixties, born and raised in Bar Harbor, a retired fireman who wasn't ready to spend the rest of his life fishing and arguing politics, so he went back to school for his PharmD and now worked the late shift at the local pharmacy.

“Not too good,” Jimmy said, wiping his sweaty hands on his white lab coat.

“Mind if I ask you a few questions now that Crockett and Tubbs are done?”

Jimmy snickered and shook his head. “Idiots. I don't know why Chief Alvares puts up with them.”

Officers Donnie and Earl were bickering with each other while leaning over the checkout counter, trying to fill out the report.

“What was taken?” Hayley asked.

“OxyContin. What else? I know it's a couple of tweaked-out teenagers who ran out of Robitussin to chug and decided to kick it up a notch and grab some stash from here while I was in the back filling a prescription.”

“Did you get a look at them?”

“No, like I told the cops, they were gone before I knew they were even here. The only reason I noticed anything missing is because they knocked over a Tylenol display when they were running away.”

Hayley jotted everything down on a notepad she kept in her jacket breast pocket.

“I thought working in a pharmacy would be calm and relaxing after thirty years of running into burning buildings, but I tell you, Hayley, there's more stress here than you can imagine. I never took into account all the crazy people I've had to deal with on a daily basis.”

“I hear you, Jimmy.”

“Believe me, I know
eve
ry
body's
secrets,” he said, cackling. “And I mean everybody's. Let's go out for a drink sometime and I'll fill you in. Some of the stories will haunt you in your sleep.”

“Isn't that unethical?”

“Sure. But I could give a crap. I'm old. What can they do to me?”

Hayley laughed. “Well, if you remember anything else, Jimmy, be sure to give me a call. And I will take you up on that drink.”

Hayley turned to go.

Officers Donnie and Earl were now fighting over the police report itself. One trying to grab it from the other. Both probably wanting to hand it to the chief personally. It tore in half.

And then they argued over that.

Hayley turned back to Jimmy. “Did you ever wait on Bessie Winthrop?”

“Of course. That one wasn't just crazy. She was
professionally
crazy, if you know what I mean.”

“I do know. I was friends with Bessie. She certainly was colorful.”

“Don't get me wrong. I liked the broad. She never cut the line or yelled if her heart medication wasn't ready. And she liked me because I bought a box of chocolates from her. They were awful. I dumped the box after trying just one. But I never said anything to her. Why not stay on her good side? In fact, she came in here on the day she died and asked if I wanted to buy another box. I said sure. Mostly because I felt sorry for her. But I never got it. She died that night.”

“How did she seem that day? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”

“No, not really. She seemed pretty normal. I mean, for Bessie. She just picked up her medication and then they left.”

“
They?
She was with someone?”

“Yeah, a lady.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Not by name, but I've seen her around town. I think she owns a catering business or something.”

“Nina Foster-Jones?”

“Yeah, that's the one. I see her ads in the paper all the time. She wears that tacky smiley-face apron and the matching chef's hat, and she's holding a wooden spoon in the air.”

“Are you sure they walked in here
together
?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure.”

“I know for a fact they didn't like each other. Could you sense any kind of tension between them?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I heard her say to Bessie that everything was going to be all right, and she would take care of everything.”

“Take care of what?”

“Beats me. I handed Bessie her bag and then they left.”

“
Together?
You're absolutely sure?”

Jimmy nodded.

Bessie and Nina detested each other. Nina was threatening legal action against Bessie for stealing her ideas. What were they doing hanging around each other? And what was Nina going to take care of for Bessie?

Hayley felt a charge of excitement.

She finally had a new lead to follow.

And it led straight to Bessie's archrival, Nina Foster-Jones.

Nina Foster-Jones was a realist. She wasn't going to become a Food Network star over night. It was going to take a lot of hard work, perseverance, and a large stack of applications to various cable-TV-network cooking-competition shows. Her catering business did decent-enough business during the summer months, but she was still just getting by and unable to bank enough money to get her through the harsh winter months.

She was still anxiously awaiting her big break. With a mortgage to pay and mounting credit card debt from buying all of the top-brand cooking utensils and pots and pans, not to mention an expensive wardrobe for her own YouTube cooking instruction videos, Nina had little choice but to find a “day job.”

When Gretchen Maxwell finally retired from the local branch of Grand Future Insurance after slipping on a patch of ice and breaking her hip in January, Nina swooped in and applied for her job. Nina had zero interest in overseeing insurance policies; but it was a steady paycheck, and it would go a long way in paying the monthly minimum interest on her Visa bill.

Hayley entered the office of Grand Future Insurance, on the second floor of a building next to the post office on Cottage Street. The receptionist pointed Hayley toward Nina's tiny office in the back, not bothering even to call Nina to let her know she had a visitor. Just a handful of people worked in this tiny satellite office of the main corporate headquarters in Chicago.

Nina's door was open, and she was behind her desk, feet up, flipping through the latest issue of
Bon Appétit
magazine.

“Nina?”

The sound of Hayley's voice startled her, and she almost tipped over in her chair as she swung her feet off the desk, nearly knocking a lamp over. She hastily crammed the magazine into her oversize turquoise purse, which was on the floor.

“Hayley, you scared the stuffing out of me!” Nina said, resting her hand over her heart. “Which reminds me, I have a new cranberry-and-walnut stuffing recipe you'll just die over. Make sure I give it to you before you leave. Maybe you can write about it in your column. Just don't forget to give me the credit.”

“Will do, Nina. But this month I'm doing all chocolate recipes in honor of Valentine's Day.”

“Okay. I will e-mail you my chocolate strawberry cream-cheese tart recipe. Three words. Better. Than. Sex.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“It's a religious experience. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't give me more credit in that cute little column of yours. I've noticed on more than one occasion you borrowed heavily from my blog.”

“I'm sorry, Nina, I've never read your blog.”

Nina chortled. “Oh, come on, Hayley. You can admit it. I won't sue.”

“That's not what Bessie Winthrop told me.”

Nina's face reddened and suddenly she was all business. “Now, are you here to discuss your policy? Being relatively new here, I'm not familiar with what you have covered with us, but if you just give me a minute to bring up your file on the computer, I'll get myself up to speed.”

“Actually, I'm not here to talk about
my
policy.”

“Oh?”

“I'm here about Bessie Winthrop.”

“You really should've made an appointment. It's very busy around here today.”

Hayley looked outside the office door.

It was so quiet she was half expecting a tumbleweed to blow past.

“This will only take a second, Nina.”

“I know all about you, Hayley. I've heard the stories. Running all over town, pointing fingers at people like some ambulance-chasing lawyer, accusing every last local of engaging in some treacherous deed. Well, it won't work with me. My hands are clean. I had nothing to do with Bessie's murder.”

“So you think it
was
a murder? Because Sabrina Merryweather remains convinced Bessie died of heart disease. That's interesting.”

“Oh no. Don't you even start insinuating that I know more than I do. I have my professional reputation to protect! If you even dare whisper a false accusation, I
will
sue you. Because we both know what's really going on here.”

“We do?”

“Yes. You are threatened by my success.”

Her greatest claim to fame was catering a party at the rented house of eighties teen pop star Debbie Gibson two summers ago.

“I'm on the cusp of fame. That's right, Hayley, the cusp. I am
this
close to a major break. And I know you are seething with jealousy, and are hoping to bring me down so you can capitalize on those precious food-and-cocktails columns of yours. Well, you can't stop me! I will be taking my rightful place as the lead-in show to Rachael Ray on the Food Network!”

“I'm not interested in competing with you, Nina. I'm happy just writing my column and raising my kids here in little ole Bar Harbor!”

“Bull puckey! Who on earth would be satisfied just doing that?”

Nina assumed everybody had her breadth of ambition.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

“Just answer one question, and I promise to steer clear of your path to stardom.”

“What?”

“If you and Bessie were such bitter rivals, why were you hanging around together on the day she died?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Jimmy MacDonald saw the two of you at the pharmacy and you seemed quite friendly. In fact, he overheard you tell Bessie not to worry, you'd take care of everything. What did you mean by that?”

“Is that what this is all about? Good Lord, Hayley, Bessie and I weren't girlfriends. We didn't pal around together. We just happened to run into each other outside the pharmacy as we were going in. She asked if we could call a truce for two minutes so she could ask me a professional question.”

“What kind of professional question?”

“She knew I had recently replaced Gretchen Maxwell at Grand Future Insurance. Bessie had a life insurance policy with us.”

“Life insurance?”

Alarm bells went off in Hayley's head.

“Yes. She recently made a change to her policy and so she just wanted me to make sure the revisions were processed and completed.”

“Did she change the name of the beneficiary?”

“I'm sorry, Hayley, I can't divulge that information. It would be a breach of professional ethics.”

“Oh, come on, Nina. Give me a hint.”

“I could get fired, Hayley, and then how would I pay for my YouTube videos? I can't slip up now.
Cusp, Hayley!
Do you hear me? I'm on the
cusp
!”

Hayley knew she wasn't going to get any more out of the future Food Network superstar.

Believe it or not, a small part of Hayley was rooting for her to make it.

Someone who wanted something so badly, and was willing to work her tail off to get it, at least deserved a little success.

But no matter how much fame and fortune followed, Hayley suspected Nina Foster-Jones would still be just as paranoid and petty and unhappy as she was now.