Laced with Poison (20 page)

“Can we find out where she lives?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll check online and see if she’s listed.”

“If you do discover something”—Arabella shook a finger at Emma—“you’d better go straight
to Detective Walker and let him handle it. If we’re right, Crystal has killed twice
already. What’s to stop her from doing it again?”

*   *   *

EMMA had no trouble finding Crystal’s address the next morning. The difficulty was
going to be in locating Crystal’s car if it turned out she lived in an apartment building
without assigned parking. She kept her fingers virtually crossed as she followed the
directions she’d printed off the computer.

It turned out that Crystal had a small condo in a development called Sunny Farms.
How ironic, Emma thought, to live at Sunny Farms and work at Sunny Days, especially
when Crystal’s life appeared to have been anything but sunny.

Each condo was a two-story town house with five units attached in a row. Crystal’s
was smack in the middle. There was no garage, but carports were across from each set
of condos and were numbered the same as the units themselves. Emma checked the number
on Crystal’s place again and then turned around to find the matching number on the
carport.

She found it easily enough. There was space for two cars. Unfortunately, both were
empty. Had Crystal hidden her car somewhere else? Surely, Crystal knew the police
would be looking for a vehicle with damage to the body. Would she take a chance on
being stopped while out running errands?

Emma decided to check and see if Crystal was home. If Crystal was home, then she had
most likely found somewhere else to keep her car. If she wasn’t…well that wouldn’t
lead to much of anything conclusive. But it was still worth a try.

Emma climbed the three steps to the bright blue front door of Crystal’s condo and
rang the bell. She could hear it pealing inside. She waited hopefully…but nothing.
The curtain in the square picture window didn’t move, and no footsteps echoed down
the hall.

Emma was turning away, with a deep sense of disappointment, when a young man on a
bicycle pulled up to the town house next door. He propped the bike against the fence,
pulled off his helmet and began to climb the front steps.

“Hello, there!” Emma called, waving at the young man.

He stopped on the landing and turned around with a curious look on his face. He had
a mop of curly hair and enormous Elton John–style glasses.

“Do you know the woman who lives here?” Emma gestured toward Crystal’s town house.

“You mean Crystal?”

“Yes. I’m trying to get in touch with her.”

“You won’t find her at home. I saw her loading up her car earlier. Packed that baby
to the gills. Boxes, suitcases, clothes on hangers. The works. Looked like she was
moving out, not going on vacation.”

“Moving out, you say?”

The young man raised his eyebrows above the thick, dark frames of his glasses. “Don’t
know for sure. Just hazarding a guess considering the state of her car. Could be she
was headed to Goodwill to make a donation.”

“That doesn’t seem likely.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.”

“Did you get a good look at her car? Could you see if it had been damaged in any way?”

“Damaged? Not that I could see. I only saw the one side as she was pulling out, and
far as I can recollect, it looked to be all in one piece.”

“Do you know Crystal well?” The sun had come out from behind a cloud, and Emma shielded
her eyes with her hand.

“Not particularly, no. She kept herself to herself as my Mamaw used to say.”

“She wasn’t friendly?”

“She wasn’t unfriendly. We just didn’t have many occasions to talk. Occasionally we’d
run into each other by the recycling bin, but that was about it.”

“Listen, could you do me a favor?”

The young man cocked his head. “Depends.”

Emma scrabbled in her purse, pulled out a Sweet Nothings card, scribbled her cell
phone number on it and handed it to him. “When Crystal comes back, would you mind
giving me a call? I want to catch up with her.”

The young man was about to pocket the card when he stopped and looked suspiciously
at Emma. “Not a bill collector, are you?”

“Oh no. Just an…old friend.”

“Doesn’t seem to be any harm in it then. Sure.” He tucked the card into his shirt
pocket.

“Thanks.”

Emma returned to her car and got behind the wheel. She was pulling away from Sunny
Farms when she had a thought. If Crystal was responsible for the hit-and-run that
killed Gladys on Tuesday night after the trunk show at Marjorie Porter’s, how did
she get to work on Wednesday? Had
she taken a chance on her car not being spotted? Or, had she assumed the police investigation
wouldn’t have gotten that far so quickly? As soon as Emma had a moment, she was going
to go back to Sunny Days and see if anyone remembered seeing Crystal pull into the
parking lot Wednesday morning.

*   *   *

EMMA’S cell phone was ringing as she walked into Sweet Nothings. Arabella was already
behind the counter showing a customer some vintage bed jackets. Emma ducked into the
back room, retrieved her cell from the bottom of her purse and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Emma? It’s Brian.”

As usual, Emma’s heart did a funny blip when she heard Brian’s voice.

“Do you know what day tomorrow is?”

Emma frowned. “It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. And do you know what Saturday is?”

“Ummm, not really. It’s a day off for some people, but we’re open on Saturdays.”

“Well down South here, we still call Saturday night, date night.”

Emma felt her heart rate speed up. There was a humorous tone to Brian’s voice, but
she thought she detected a bit of nervousness, too.

“So I’m hoping you’ll consider having dinner with me.”

For one second, Emma thought of playing coy, but then she decided that that was not
how she wanted her relationship with Brian to go. Instead she said, “I’d love to.”

“Great.”

Emma easily detected the note of relief in Brian’s voice.

“How does L’Etoile sound?”

“Sure.” L’Etoile was the fanciest restaurant in town. Emma and Brian had been once
before when they celebrated the renovation of Sweet Nothings.

“I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock,” Brian said. “Oh, and Liz is loaning me her station
wagon so you won’t have to ride in my pickup truck.”

EMMA floated through the rest of the day. Her disappointment over not finding Crystal’s
car faded into thoughts of Brian’s last kiss and hopes that he might kiss her again.
Saturday night seemed an eternity away.

They were ready to close for the day when the door opened and Liz stuck her head in.
“Hey.” Her tone was serious and so was her expression.

Was something wrong?
Emma looked at her friend in concern.

“Do you have time to get a cold drink? Matt’s taken the kids riding. I need to talk
to you.”

She looked at Emma, her expression still grim.

“You two go ahead. I’ll finish closing up.” Arabella shooed them out the door.

They walked down to the Coffee Klatch in near silence, sticking to inane comments
about the weather.
Emma could tell something was wrong. She just didn’t know what it was.

The Coffee Klatch was nearly empty, and the hostess immediately showed them to a table.
Before Emma could open her mouth, Mabel came up to them and slid two menus onto the
table. “What’ll it be?”

“Just some sweet tea,” Liz and Emma said together.

“How’s your boy doing?” Liz asked as Mabel continued to linger.

“He’s growing like a weed.” Mabel’s face glowed with pride. “His teacher says he’s
real smart, too. Takes after his daddy, I expect.” Mabel glanced around, but everyone
was taken care of, and no new customers had entered. “Did you hear about that hit-and-run
accident Tuesday night?” She nodded at Emma. “I know you like to keep your ear to
the ground.”

“Shame, wasn’t it?” Liz said in dismissive tones.

Mabel didn’t take the hint. “It seems so strange. First that woman drops dead at that
party, and now this.”

“Mabel!” the chef shouted.

“Hold your horses. I’ll be right there.” Mabel rolled her eyes but took off at a trot
in the direction of the kitchen.

Liz looked at Emma for a long moment. Emma found herself squirming in her seat. She
hadn’t done anything wrong. Why was she feeling guilty?

“I guess I’d better come right out with it.” Liz fiddled with the tassel on her purse.
“I saw you in here the other day with that detective. You two looked pretty cozy.
I could tell by the look on his face that he was interested in you.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but Liz went on.

“I know it’s none of my business, but Brian is my brother, and he means the world
to me. And frankly, from what he’s told me, you mean the world to him. I don’t want
to see him get hurt.”

Once again Emma opened her mouth, but before she could get out a word, Liz was continuing.

“I know he’s not real good at showing it,” she said as she looked down at the table,
“but he really cares for you. He’s just scared.” Liz looked at Emma, a pleading look
in her eyes. “It’s all on account of that miserable Amy. She destroyed his confidence.
He’s like a little boy looking over his shoulder all the time.”

Emma reached out and took Liz’s hand in hers. “Liz! I feel the same way about Brian.
Honest. I met with Detective Walker to discuss Jessica Scott’s death. Nothing more.”

“Honest?”

“Pinky swear,” Emma said, referring to their old childhood ritual.

“Okay.” Liz’s face cleared momentarily, but then she frowned again. “I talked to Bitsy,”
she said. “She’s going to have to close Sprinkles unless business picks up.” Liz twirled
her napkin around and around. “I feel terrible. I know it wasn’t my fault, but somehow
I keep thinking maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I did pick a foxglove flower by accident.”
She ran a hand through her hair, leaving her blond bangs disheveled. “I’ve been so
distracted lately.” She gave a rueful smile. “Did I tell you Brian offered me a job?”

Emma managed to look surprised. “Really?”

Liz nodded. “I’m really grateful. Besides, he needs all the help he can get. His books
are in a complete mess.”

“That’s great.” Emma gave a big smile. “Listen, Liz, I know that what happened to
Jessica wasn’t your fault. We know someone went out to the garden and picked that
flower on purpose. I’m willing to bet it was Crystal Davis.” Emma explained about
Crystal, her compulsive stealing and how Jessica made her life miserable. “And then
when she thought Gladys Smit was about to reveal the fact that she saw Crystal
go out into Deirdre’s garden the night of the trunk show, she mowed the poor woman
down.”

Emma fell silent as Mabel slid two tall, frosted glasses of iced tea in front of them.
She watched as Mabel retreated, and only when she reached the kitchen did Emma start
talking again.

“I went to Crystal’s place today to see if I could get a look at her car and check
for any damage that might be consistent with hitting a…a body.” Emma choked a little
on the word. “Unfortunately she’d already packed up and taken off.”

“Taken off? Where?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she might be going on vacation, but her neighbor said the car
was awfully packed.”

Liz groaned. “What next, then? Are the police making any progress at all?”

“I know they’re checking body shops. Angel told us they’d been out to talk to Tom
Mulligan already.”

“Isn’t there something we can do?”

“I’ve been planning to visit Gladys Smit’s neighbors. No one seems to know much of
anything about her. I thought if we could prove she didn’t have any enemies…”

“Why not go now?” Liz began reaching for her purse.

“Let’s!” Emma pulled a few bills from her wallet and tossed them on the table. “It’s
on me.”

Mabel’s head nearly spun in a circle as Liz and Emma bolted from their table and beat
a hasty retreat from the Coffee Klatch. They piled into Liz’s car.

“Where to?”

Emma gave the directions, and in a short time they were approaching Gladys Smit’s
garden apartment complex.

“There’s not much to recommend this place, is there?”
Liz said as they pulled up in front of the door with the Easter egg wreath. “Is this
where she lived?”

Emma nodded.

“We were so lucky to be able to take over my parents’ place and make it our own. Daddy
was so generous.” Liz stifled a sob.

Emma turned toward her in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried we won’t be able to keep up the mortgage. Matt still hasn’t heard about
that contract, but that doesn’t stop the bills from coming in,” she said with a slightly
bitter tone. “We can’t lose the place, we can’t. Grandma and Grandpa O’Connell bought
that land when they moved here from Ireland. They built a little house for themselves,
and then when Mom and Dad took it over, they added on. And now Matt and I have renovated
it completely. I’m afraid we spent too much, and I feel so guilty. We never should
have taken out that second mortgage. The house was fine the way it was for my parents
and grandparents. Matt and I should have left it as it was.”