A Grid For Murder (3 page)

I shrugged slightly. “He’s home doing hard labor. It shouldn’t come as a shock to know that I venture into the city alone every now and then.”

“Of course not,” she said with a slight smile that lacked any real warmth. I didn’t know Laura all that well, and if I was being fair about it, I couldn’t hold her reaction against her. If our places had been reversed, I’m not entirely certain that I wouldn’t have feigned deafness and run for the fountain across the street. To avoid the situation I was in at the moment, a dunk in the icy water wouldn’t be all that unwelcome compared to what I was experiencing right now.

In an effort to keep Joanne’s focus off me, I asked them, “How about you two? What brings you to Asheville?”

“We were just out shopping. Laura and I decided it was too chilly to take a run in the Botanical Gardens this morning like we’d planned, so after a little browsing, we thought we’d treat ourselves to lunch,” Sandra Oliver said. Sandra was blonde, an inch taller than Laura, and there wasn’t an unneeded ounce of body fat on her. She looked as though she could have run to Asheville from Parson’s Valley without breaking a sweat, and I wondered how Laura ever managed to keep up with her.

“This is so delightfully unexpected. I really must insist that you join us,” Joanne said forcefully. It would take someone with an iron will to go against her, and clearly neither of the other women had any more spine than I did. To their credit, the women looked as unhappy about receiving the invitation as I had been.

I didn’t know them all that well, but misery loves company. If there were two more people at our table, perhaps some of Joanne’s barbed comments would be directed their way instead of mine.

“Don’t worry about crowding us. We’ll make room,” I said, doing my best to paste a smile on my lips.

The two women sat down, and before they could order anything for themselves, Joanne called out to our waitress, “Two more of those special teas, please.”

If they wanted to fight her move, they both resisted the impulse. Too soon, we had four mugs of the wretched brew in front of us, though mine had been touched just once.

I watched their faces as they each took a sip, and with great satisfaction, I noted that neither appeared to enjoy it. At least I wasn’t the only one there with an unsophisticated palate.

I was about to comment on it when my cell phone suddenly started quacking at me, a sure sign that my husband was calling.

“Excuse me,” I said as I stood and stepped away from the group. I moved out onto the sidewalk and watched people walking around the obelisk as I talked to my husband.

“Save me,” I said in a near whisper. I didn’t think anyone at the table could hear me, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m at a table at Café Noir in Asheville with Joanne Clayton and two other women from Parson’s Valley.”

He laughed. “Tough luck. Listen, on your way home, could you stop by the hardware store and get me another pair of work gloves?”

“What happened to the ones I bought you for your last birthday?” Zach was a huge fan of practical gifts, and it drove me crazy every year coming up with something to buy for him that he would actually use.

“They have a brand-new hole in them. You know the ones I like.”

“Sure, I’ll be glad to. Is that all you need?”

“You bet. Enjoy your lunch.”

Raising my voice a little, I asked, “Do you need them as soon as possible? It sounds urgent to me.”

My husband laughed. “Sure, why not? Go ahead and use me as an excuse. I don’t mind a bit.”

I wanted to smile, but I was afraid that I’d blow my cover. “Okay. I’ll take care of it immediately.”

As soon as I got back to the group, but before I could make my excuses, Laura asked me, “Savannah, do you know if there’s a powder room here?”

“There’s one inside,” I answered as I hovered near the edge of the table. “It’s back by the kitchen.”

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

“Wait, I’ll go with you,” Sandra added quickly. It was clear she had no interest in being left alone with us.

“Listen, I hate to run, but Zach needs me back home.”

“Oh, sit down. You have time to finish your tea.”

I wasn’t about to budge, or let her bully me into backing down. “Sorry. Wish I could.”

“Can’t you do anything without him? It’s not natural to be that dependent on a man, Savannah.”

I was about to say something even if it meant putting myself squarely in her sights when Joanne asked, “Is that Johnny Depp over there?”

I turned to look, but it was just another local with straggly hair and a partial beard. Honestly, Joanne’s eyesight must be going; this man looked nothing like the movie star.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

I looked again, but the man still bore little resemblance to the actor. “I’m pretty sure.”

Joanne shrugged. “I watched him in an old movie last night,” she said. “I must have him on my mind.”

“I could think of worse things to have on my mind,” I said.

I was reaching for my purse when Joanne accidentally knocked it onto the ground as she tried to take a sugar packet from the dispenser.

“Forgive me. I’m so clumsy,” she said.

“It’s fine,” I replied as I bent over and started retrieving the contents, which had managed to spread out all around us upon impact with the ground.

“I think that’s it,” I said, as I finally collected everything and put it back in haphazardly. It was odd that Joanne hadn’t made a single effort to help me, but I was just as glad. It was hard to imagine what she might have made of the contents of my purse, and I’d just as soon skip the analysis.

I looked at my mug of tea, and I had the distinct impression that it had moved since I’d last touched it.

“You should finish that,” Joanne said as she followed my gaze.

I was about to say something to Joanne when Sandra and Laura returned.

“Did we miss anything?” they asked.

“Just Johnny Depp,” I said, joking.

They didn’t think it was all that amusing. “He was here?”

“Someone who looked remarkably like him,” Joanne explained.

Laura smiled. “Still, if he was that close, he was probably worth looking at.”

I was about to make my excuses when Sandra’s cell phone rang. She had a brief conversation, and then said, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. My husband is leaving for a business trip this afternoon, and he can’t find his overnight
bag. I swear, I don’t know how that man manages without me. Sorry we couldn’t stay,” she said to us as she flipped a ten on the table, “but I’m Laura’s ride home.”

“We’re really so sorry,” Laura added.

“I’ll go with you,” I said as they started to leave.

Joanne’s ferret fingers struck out and grabbed my arm. “We still need to talk, remember?”

“Can’t it wait?”

“If you’d rather I come to your home later, I can do that,” she said.

I shrugged and sagged back down into my chair. I’d been so close to escaping, only to have the opportunity snatched away from me at the last second.

After Sandra and Laura left, Joanne said, “It’s just as well they’re gone. I’ve been having difficulties with both of them lately, for entirely different reasons.” She smiled slightly, and then added, “They didn’t like what I had to tell them yesterday, but I couldn’t just leave the things I knew alone, could I?”

I didn’t even know how to answer that. I glanced at my watch, and decided that I’d had enough of Joanne for one day. If she wanted to hound me at my house later, then so be it. “I’m sorry, but I really must be going as well.”

“We’re not finished with our conversation,” she said sternly. “This won’t take more than a moment.”

When she saw that I was going to stay, no matter how reluctantly, Joanne grinned and reached into her bag. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was still surprised when she pulled out a folded newspaper with a logic puzzle displayed prominently on it.

“What’s this?” I asked as I barely glanced at it.

“It’s my puzzle,” Joanne said smugly.

“I can see that,” I said. “Would you like me to
autograph it for you?” I asked as I took it from her. I got that request sometimes, and was always glad to oblige, though I was surprised that Joanne was the one asking.

She looked offended by my comment. “
You
didn’t create this. Look at it more carefully, Savannah.”

I examined the header and saw that it was from an Asheville alternative newspaper. I’d been trying to get into that paper for years, but they’d steadfastly refused me.

That’s when I saw the byline.

It was created by Joanne Clayton.

M
Y FIRST REACTION WAS TO THROW THE NEWSPAPER IN
her face, but I managed to hold my temper. It wouldn’t do to melt down until I got more information.

“How nice for you,” I said. “I didn’t know you were interested in puzzles, Joanne.”

“I have been for years. What amazes me is how easy these are to create. I’m thinking about branching out to other newspapers. Who is your contact, and how do I go about getting my puzzles syndicated?”

Had she lost her mind? I wasn’t about to offer her the slightest bit of help in putting me out of business. Introducing her to any of my connections would be cutting my own throat. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll speak with my syndicator and see if there’s room on the roster.”
When the moon turns bright green and cows give chocolate milk
, I added to myself. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. It’s a tough market to break into.”

“I’m sure once they see what I have to offer, there won’t be any problems.” Joanne looked lovingly at the newspaper still in my hand, and then said, “I’d be happy to sign this for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be nice,” I said, still managing to keep my cool. I’d put it in my recycling bin at the first opportunity, but for now, I decided to let her have her moment.

It was clear that Joanne was finished with me after she signed the puzzle with a flourish, and I added a five to the table just so I could finally escape. There was a smug expression on her face as I left, but I didn’t care; not as long as I could get away from her. I considered calling Zach to tell him what had happened, but then I decided that I was in no mood to talk to him just yet. That confrontation with Joanne had rattled me, and I needed some time to put it behind me. I turned onto the Blue Ridge Parkway on a whim when I saw an entrance ramp, and drove steadily for an hour in one direction, enjoying the spectacular mountain views and trying to get that vile woman out of my head. By the time I turned around and headed back toward home, I was in a much better place.

When I pulled the car into our drive, Zach was on the telephone. I waved to him as I got out, but he held up one hand for me to wait. The call didn’t last very long, and when he got off, he had a somber expression on his face.

At that moment, I realized that I’d forgotten to go by the hardware store for his gloves. “I forgot the gloves. I’m so sorry. I’ll go back right now.”

“It’s not important.”

“It is so. You asked me for one thing, and I let you down.”

“Savannah, take a breath and let me talk, will you? You’re not going to believe this,” Zach said.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Someone poisoned Joanne Clayton.”

“P
OISONED? YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS
.”

He nodded. “I just found out. I’m still on hold trying to dig up more information about what happened.”

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked, the life suddenly going out of me.

He looked so sad as he said, “I’m sorry. She’s dead, Savannah.”

“But I just saw her,” I protested. “We even shared a cup of tea. This can’t be happening.”

“Believe it. Hang on a second. Are you saying that you actually drank out of the same cup that she did?”

“No, of course not. That would be gross. But we both had the same blend. Why? Is that how it happened?” I couldn’t believe how close I’d come to being poisoned. What if whoever had done it had mistaken my mug for
hers? It might be my husband in mourning. And then I wondered who would be saddened by Joanne’s untimely demise. The fact that I couldn’t come up with anyone right away was answer enough.

“It looks like we might have a problem,” Zach replied, still holding the telephone to his shoulder. “They want me to investigate.”

“You already turned down the Asheville job,” I said. They’d asked him to replace the sheriff, who had been caught embezzling from his department, but after careful consideration, Zach had said no.

“This would be on a temporary basis only,” he said, “but I can’t do it if you’re one of the suspects.”

I hadn’t put that part of it together yet. “Why would I be a suspect?”

“If you’re not on the lead detective’s list, at the very least you’re a witness. Based on that alone, it wouldn’t be right for me to investigate the case.”

I took a deep breath. “Zach? Maybe I’m a little more than a witness here after all.”

“How much more?” he asked as a frown started to appear.