A Game of Murder (5 page)

“And you helped with the food preparation?”

Faith nodded. “What is this about?”

Kastner rubbed his hands on his thighs, displaying carefully manicured nails. Did the gleam shining off them indicate a coat of clear nail polish? She’d heard some men did that, but the detective was the first she’d met.

He curled his fingers slightly, resting his fingertips on his legs. “The hospital did an analysis of Mira Levinson’s stomach contents, looking for allergens based on the history given by her roommate. Instead they found poison.”

The word ripped through Faith’s brain, loosing a tumble of thoughts. Poisoned.
 
That meant murder. Even though she’d expected this finding since the detective had identified himself, hearing the words made it real. Murder, not a food allergy. Not an accident.

Unless somehow a poison had accidentally been introduced into her meal. Faith knew she was grasping at straws. Either way, Hope, and the Prickly Pear, were in trouble.

“What kind of poison?” Faith asked.

Kastner ignored her question and asked another one of his own. “Mrs. Eberhardt told me you and Lorna Ferguson assisted in preparing the food for the club meeting. Is that correct?”

Her voice didn’t want to work. Faith nodded instead, working on a swallow to try to loosen her throat. An unsettling idea presented itself for consideration. Could she be a suspect?

“Was anyone else in the kitchen?”

“I don’t think so.” The words squeaked out from her constricted throat. “The three of us came early to make the food. Lorna and I attended the meeting, while Hope stayed in the kitchen to cook the chicken. When we broke for dinner, Lorna went back to help Hope serve the food.”

The words tumbled out.
So much for not volunteering information.

“How well did you know the victim?” His unblinking stare focused on her face, taking her in with all the expertise of a professional poker player looking for a tell.

Faith held her mouth shut even as her traitorous eyes widened. “Me? I didn’t know her at all. I met her for the first time last night. It was the first meeting I went to.”

He leaned forward the smallest bit, a tell of his own. “How about Mrs. Ferguson?”

Faith thought a moment, not wanting to run on at the mouth again, but also not wanting to be too careful about her choice of words lest the detective think she was trying to hide something. “Lorna introduced us, so obviously she knew Mira. I think they’ve both been club members for a while. But I have no idea how close they were.”

His posture relaxed the tiniest bit. “What about Mrs. Eberhardt?”

“Hope? I doubt she’d ever seen Mira before either. Hope isn’t exactly a gaming geek.”

Faith wished she had gotten her coffee before the two of them sat down. Her throat felt like the Sonoran Desert, and she could use the caffeine.

“Did Miss Levinson have any enemies that you know of?”

Faith wondered why he wasn’t taking notes. Did he have a photographic memory? Or was he secretly recording their conversation? Faith didn’t think that was legal. Didn’t the police have to ask for your permission to record a conversation? Or at least tell you?

“Miss Andersen?”

Faith jerked herself back to the matter at hand. “Well, I, uh, don’t know.”

Kastner raised his eyebrows. “Let me rephrase that for you. Did anything happen at the meeting to indicate a less than amicable relationship between Miss Levinson and any of the members?”

A roundabout way of asking if Faith had observed the arguments, which Kastner obviously knew about from some other source. Probably Cathy or Adam, since they’d followed the ambulance to the hospital and would most likely have been two of the earliest witnesses questioned.
Witnesses.

The word she repeated to herself told Faith she already thought of the poisoning as a crime, not an accident. How easily she’d come to accept the crime of murder in her life. So much death. This was the fourth one in the past year. And Karl. Not a murder but much more personal.

It was no use trying to pretend she hadn’t seen the animosity toward Mira and her game, so she recounted what she remembered to the detective.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Faith shook her head.

“Anyone you can think of who had an opportunity to poison Miss Levinson’s food other than you, Mrs. Ferguson, and Mrs. Eberhardt?”

“None of us poisoned her!” Faith blurted out.

“Then there is someone else?”

Faith slumped as she let her breath out in a slow sigh. “Not that I know of.”

Enough was enough. She straightened up, squared her shoulders, and announced, “But the murderer wasn’t Hope, Lorna, or me. None of us had a reason to poison Mira.”

The detective’s eyebrows lifted for a second before he brought them back down. “This contest seems to be very important to the club members.”

This threw Faith. She’d thought the interview was over, the previous question sounded like a wrap-up rather than an opening to explore further. “It is.” She stretched out the words as she puzzled over the possible connection.

“And Lorna Ferguson is planning to enter the competition?”

Connection made. “Yes, but she’d never kill someone to win a contest.”

“You’d be surprised at what people will kill over. A jacket. A pair of designer running shoes. A cheap trophy.” Again he employed his penetrating stare.

Faith stared back at him, refusing to be intimidated. “Anything else I can help you with, detective?”

Kastner shook his head. “Not at this time. I’ll be in touch if I have any more questions.”

* * *

Faith retrieved her coffee from the office, took a sip and made a face. It had gone cold while she sparred with the police detective. She made her way to the kitchen to get a fresh cup. The sound of her footsteps brought Pixel out of hiding, and he proceeded to weave his way between her legs, threatening to trip her up. “Pixel!”

“Mew.” The cat gazed up at her innocently.

After adding some milk to her refilled cup of coffee, Faith headed back toward her office, stepping around the cat, who seemed determined to position himself in her path. Pixel halted and made a mad dash to the bedroom a second time as the doorbell rang again.

This time it was John, a gym bag in one hand and a four-year-old boy in the other. Faith had seen Luke before, a towhead like his father, but this was the first time she’d been this close to him, let alone been faced with being alone with him for the next few hours. Her stomach clenched as she wondered what she’d do with a four-year-old. She’d never considered herself particularly maternal. Strangely, she felt more intimidated by the little boy than the homicide detective. She put on a brave smile. “Come in!”

“Luke, do you remember Faith?” John asked as he stepped over the threshold. “She’s going to play with you this morning.”

“Hi, Faith.” Luke looked up at her with a wide smile. He was so cute in his navy blue sport shirt and beige roll-up pants, the color scheme matching John’s clothes. A navy straw hat completed the outfit.

“Hi, Luke.”

The three of them stood there for a moment, John shifting from one foot to the other, Faith worrying her lower lip, Luke looking back and forth between the two adults. Breaking the silence, John said, “Would it be all right to turn on the television?
Dinosaur Train
is on now.”

Relieved, Faith said, “Of course.”

John picked up the remote from the table beside Faith’s recliner and navigated to the public television station. Luke settled himself happily on the floor.

“I brought some books he can read with you and some of his favorite toys to play with. I also brought a change of clothes in case of accidents.”

“Accidents?” Panic gripped her at the thought of having to deal with that.

John reassured her. “Oh, he’s toilet trained. But in a new environment with a new person, he might forget to tell you he has to go. You might ask him in an hour or so.”

“Maybe I’m not cut out to be a babysitter.”

“You have a younger sister, right?”

“Yeah, but she isn’t much younger than I am. I think I was at least twelve before my mother had me babysit for her. And she was nine, so she pretty much entertained herself.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” John said. “After the staff meeting and the morning Bible study class, I’ll come back and we can have lunch together at the Prickly Pear.”

Lunch was a long way off.

Noticing the expression on her face, John added, “If you have a problem, you can call my cell phone.”

“Okay. I’ll try to manage.”

“You’ll do fine,” John repeated. He knelt beside the little boy. “Luke, remember I told you you were going to stay with Faith this morning?”

Luke tore himself away from the television screen. He looked up doubtfully at Faith. The hat slipped to the floor. Faith picked it up and put it on the couch.

Apparently he was no more certain of her than she was of him. He turned back to his father and nodded.

“Well, I have to leave now.”

Luke’s face crumpled, and Faith was afraid he was going to cry.

John hurried to reassure him. “I’ll be back for lunch. Faith will play with you after
Dinosaur Train
is over. The two of you will have lots of fun.”

Luke was braver than Faith. “Okay, Daddy.” He turned back to the TV show.

John rose, gave Faith an encouraging smile, and left.

While Luke was occupied, Faith opened the gym bag to see what was inside. She pulled out three books: “Dinosaurs Before Dark,” “How I Became a Pirate,” and “Curtis Curly-tail and the Ship of Sneakers.” The titles and covers were so engaging, Faith was tempted to start reading them. Removing the books exposed a bucket of Legos, a coloring book and crayons, and a wooden truck, a car carrier carrying four wooden cars.

All too soon, a theme song indicating the end of the program played from the television speakers. Luke stood up, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and turned toward her. Faith got the hint and turned off the television. Remembering John’s caution, her first thought was to avoid any of those “accidents” he’d spoken of. “Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

Luke swayed back and forth, but gave no indication he understood what she was asking about.

“Go potty?” Still no reaction.

Not only did actions speak louder than words, they often spoke more clearly. She got up from her chair and held out her hand to little boy. “Take a walk with me?”

Luke eyed her hand, then must have decided it was safe to hold. He reached out and took it. Faith was surprised at the flush of warm feelings that flowed through her in response to the child’s touch. Maybe she did have a maternal instinct after all.

She led him to the bathroom and raised the seat on the toilet. Without saying a word, Luke went about his business, turned around, and said, “All done!”

“Good job!” Faith said as she straightened his pants.

Once they were back in the living room, Faith asked, “Should we read a story?”

Luke nodded.

“Which one?” Faith asked, holding up the books.

“Curtis Curly Tail!” Luke said enthusiastically.

Pixel came out of hiding and lay on the floor while Faith read to Luke, curious about this new small human. The little cat wasn’t quite brave enough to approach him, however. After they finished reading about Curtis’s adventures, Faith asked if Luke wanted another story. He shook his head vigorously, slid off the couch, and said, “I want to play!”

“Okay…” Faith remembered her brother liking Legos, so she pulled the bucket out and sat on the floor.

“No. I want to play with my truck.”

As she took the truck out of the bag and put it on the floor, the cars tumbled off the back. Luke grabbed one and pushed it, trying to make the car roll toward Faith. It didn’t get very far on the carpet.

“Let’s take the truck into the kitchen.” The truck and cars would roll more smoothly on the tile floor than the carpet.

Pixel scooted back into the bedroom as they passed the end of the hall. Faith couldn’t help but smile at the fraidy cat.

Once the two of them were on the floor, Luke rolled the car toward Faith and waited for her to roll it back to him. They must have repeated this fifty times. Her arm was getting tired and she was getting bored with the repetitive activity, and she wondered how long it was until lunch. And then Luke rolled the car off to her right, changing up the game. Before Faith could crawl over to retrieve the toy, Pixel came charging into the kitchen and pounced on it.

“Whoa!” Luke said and scrambled over to retrieve his car.

Pixel dashed back down the hall. But not for long. As soon as Luke pushed the car toward Faith, the wheels clattering over the hard tiles, Pixel charged toward it again. Once more Luke retrieved the car and Pixel dashed down the hall. This time, instead of rolling the car toward Faith, Luke pushed it into the open space, his face filled with anticipation. He wasn’t disappointed. Pixel wasted no time in scampering to the toy.

Eventually, both Luke and Pixel tired of the new game. Pixel wandered off to the living room and curled up in a square of sun on the carpet. Luke followed behind and stared hopefully at the television screen. His eyes drooped, and Faith thought about suggesting a nap. She glanced at the clock. John would be here in a half hour or so. She supposed turning the television on for a while would be okay. She found
Bubble Guppies
, and Luke settled on the couch contentedly, his eyes closing within a few minutes.

Good, Faith thought. Ever since the detective had left, she’d been wondering when she’d get a chance to talk to Hope and find out if anything had happened at the Prickly Pear. With her two charges asleep, now seemed like a good time.

“Hi, Faith,” Hope said when she answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Faith kept her voice low as she tiptoed to her office. Afraid Luke might wake up before she could find out what she wanted to know, she didn’t bother with small talk. “A police detective came to my house this morning. He said Mira was poisoned and asked a lot of questions about the food.”