Authors: Sandra Orchard
Tags: #FIC022040, #FIC042060, #Female friendship—Fiction, #Herbalists—Crimes against—Fiction, #Suicide—Fiction
“I checked with the registrar at the university. They have no record of him quitting.”
Darryl pulled a box of beakers down from a shelf. “You
know how kids are. They just leave. They don’t think about who they’re supposed to tell. Do you mind if I borrow a couple of these beakers?”
She waved off the question as if he didn’t need to ask. “So you think Gord quit because he didn’t want to do the work?”
“Could be. Daisy probably told me, but you know how it is.” Darryl removed two beakers, returned the box to the shelf, looked at the two he’d removed, pulled the box down again, and took out two more.
“Everything okay?” Kate asked, noting how preoccupied he’d been lately.
“Fine. Everything’s fine.” He stuffed the box back on the shelf. “Could soon be great, actually. Did you see the article in the paper about the pharmaceutical company that wants to build here?”
“I saw the headline.”
“Well, one of their reps, a guy by the name of Peter, was talking to the director yesterday.”
Peter. That had to be the same guy who talked to her in the tea shop. The guy who knew her parents. The guy who could blow her secret.
“The company wants to partner with us on some research. It’ll mean a nice cash injection for our department.”
“A drug company wants to partner with
us
? They’re our worst critics.”
“Yeah, but they have deep pockets, and they won’t be so critical if they want to stay on our good side.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You might have to lump it, whether you like it or not. Two more donors revoked their funding to your project since news of Daisy’s cause of death broke.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“Believe it.”
“I don’t get your attitude. You should be as anxious as I am to prove Daisy didn’t kill herself by drinking marigold tea.”
“I have enough on my mind worrying about what folks are drinking at my wife’s shop.” Darryl paused at the door. “She’s been too sick to work, and I’ve had to take up the slack.”
“She’s sick? I thought I saw her out driving last night.”
“No, she’s been in bed for days.”
Kate hesitated. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” he said abruptly, his hand on the doorknob. “I’ve got it under control. Thanks.” He left without telling Kate what was wrong with Beth, and Kate had a sinking feeling the lapse wasn’t just an oversight.
She
had
seen Beth’s car last night. Tom had confirmed the plates. Why would Darryl lie about her going out? What was he trying to hide?
Kate sank onto a stool and laid her head on her arms.
What’s happening to me, Lord? I used to trust everyone, believe the best about people, no matter how things looked. Now I’m becoming like Tom—suspicious of everyone. I don’t want to be like that, Lord.
Except Tom wasn’t suspicious of
her
, even though she stood to gain from Daisy’s death too. No, Tom had seemed genuinely worried about her. Willing to risk his job to find the truth. And here she sat squirreled away in her lab, taking nada risks, while he and his dad tried to solve her friend’s murder. The least she could do was track down the missing intern and then pay Beth a surprise visit. Find out if she really was sick.
Reenergized by the decision to take action, Kate finished her experiment and then phoned the registrar’s office for Gord’s home address.
“I can’t give out private information. You should know that,” the receptionist said.
“It’s information I could get out of any phone book or online directory.”
“Then go ahead.”
“Do you know how many G. Laslos there are in the region? And I don’t even know if he’s from this area.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
Kate could picture the smirk on Lana’s face—a woman who loved power way too much. Kate would love to be a spider on the wall when she sicced Tom on her and he marched in flashing his badge, demanding information or else. Of course, knowing Lana, all Tom would have to do was flash his pearly whites to get the information.
Kate’s mouth soured. Maybe she’d find another way.
She gathered her purse and headed toward the rear exit. First she’d check out Beth’s alibi for last night. Kate phoned Tom’s cell and left a voice mail detailing where she was heading, then slipped outside. Despite Keith’s promise to phone the minute Edward’s car came within an hour of Port Aster, she slinked toward her parking spot in the shadow of the building, scanning the lot for a green Porsche.
Once safely locked inside her car, Kate let herself breathe again. Maybe paying Beth a surprise visit wasn’t such a smart idea. Kate’s heart could take only so much racing in one day. Besides, Darryl hadn’t seemed too pleased by her offer to help.
Men.
If Beth had been stuck in bed for a few days, she
must be desperate for company. Of course, she hadn’t been in bed last night.
But her following Kate had to be a weird coincidence.
And the only way to find out was to ask.
Kate parked in front of the bakery. A half-dozen warm-from-the-oven apple fritters were just what she needed to get Beth talking. The door to the shop opened and Kate’s stomach gurgled at the delicious smell of sweet pastries that wafted out.
Molly walked out in a stunning black sheath, dripping with diamonds—well, cubic zirconium, more likely. Convincing, though.
A light blend of floral scents—rose, iris, orange blossom—enveloped her like a fine silk wrap. Kate inhaled. Wow, the fragrance didn’t smell like any department store perfume she’d ever tried. More like something only the rich and famous wore. She’d have to ask Molly where she found such a great knockoff.
Absorbed in a phone call, Molly almost plowed straight into Kate. “Yes, Daddy, everything worked out perfectly. I love you too. Bye.”
Kate whistled. “Hot date?”
“Yes.” Molly beamed. “Edward’s taking me to the theater.”
“Oh.” Kate choked down her surprise. “That’s great. How long have you two been dating?” And why hadn’t Keith called to warn her that Edward was back in town?
“We’re engaged.”
“Engaged?” Kate squeaked. “Really?” Suddenly more worried about poor Molly than where Edward happened to be at the moment, Kate debated how to respond. How could Edward drag such an impressionable young woman into his
sordid schemes? If only she hadn’t been so busy with the investigation, she might have gotten to know Molly well enough to warn her.
Curiosity tugged Kate’s gaze to Molly’s left hand, and the girl obliged by fluttering her mustard seed–sized diamond under Kate’s nose. “Gorgeous, don’t you think?”
“Wow. Congratulations. I can’t believe Edward didn’t tell Daisy that he planned to ask you. She would’ve been thrilled.”
“Yes, he misses her terribly. Her death hit him so hard.” Molly cupped her hands over her heart as if she shared his heartache. “But it’s made him realize how very lonely he’s been without me.”
“You knew each other before moving here?” Kate couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.
“Yes.” Molly’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk, no doubt savoring her victory over a would-be rival. “He had a brief bout of cold feet after my aunt died but has come to his senses now.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to run or I’ll be late.”
Elsie Wagner, strands of gray hair dribbling from her bun, opened the bakery door. “Are you buying? We close soon.
Ja?
”
Kate followed her inside and let the yeasty, cinnamony smell transplant her concern for Molly. Rows of pastries, squares, and old-fashioned donuts lined the shelves behind the glass. “I’ll have six apple fritters, please.”
Elsie wiped her floury hands on her apron, then took up the tongs and boxed the decadent delights. If these couldn’t coax the truth out of Beth, Kate didn’t know what would.
Confident Edward would be more than preoccupied with his fiancée for the next couple of hours, Kate left her car parked in front of the bakery, walked the half block to A
Cup or Two, and slipped down the side alley to the back stairs that led to Darryl and Beth’s second-floor apartment.
A scuffling erupted behind her. Flattening her back to the wall, she knifed her keys between her fingers. What had she been thinking, trapping herself in an alley with no other exit?
A rat scurried out from under a jumble of boxes and disappeared through a hole in the back fence.
Kate cringed and ran up the metal stairs before any other creatures appeared. She half expected the clatter would draw Beth to the door, but it remained firmly shut.
At the top of the stairs, Kate smoothed her hair, held up the box of fritters, took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and knocked.
The deadbolt scraped open, then the chain latch rattled against the door at the same time that her cell phone rang. She couldn’t very well juggle the fritter box and dig her phone out of her purse, let alone be rudely talking on it when Beth opened the door. Whoever was calling would just have to wait. The worn brass knob seemed to turn in slow motion. Then as the door opened, Kate pulled her gaze from the knob to—
Her breath caught. “Darryl?”
How could Kate think he wouldn’t mind her visiting the woman who’d tailed her car last night? Halfway through Kate’s phone message, Tom grabbed his coat and raced out of police headquarters.
The clock tower clanged out the time. Each gong lobbed Tom’s chest with the force of a billy club. Five. Forty minutes since Kate left the message on his cell. Hours since the call from his dad.
In the parking lot, Tom darted around two officers. He never should’ve let Dad talk him out of pulling Kate from the lab. Tom punched her number into his cell phone. It rang five times, then cut to voice mail. He tried again.
Come on, Kate. Pick up.
Daisy’s charcoaled journal should have proven to Kate that no one could be trusted. What did he have to do to get that fact through her brain? Spell it out with tulips in a giant flower bed?
He sped out of the parking lot and headed for A Cup or
Two. The Kishes lived above the store, so with any luck they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves by threatening Kate where a shop full of patrons might overhear.
Have you ever known a criminal in his right mind, Detective?
The recollection of Kate’s flippant remark doused his wishful thinking like a splash of icy water.
As he turned onto Main Street, he slowed his car. The warm spring evening had drawn people out in droves, Friday night revelers celebrating the start of the weekend.
Crowds were good. Darryl wouldn’t try anything with this many witnesses around. Then again, a scream above a noisy street might scarcely be noticed.
Tom spotted Kate’s empty VW Bug outside the bakery, and his emotions seesawed between relief and worry. He parked across the street and jogged over to check it out.
Elsie Wagner bustled through the front door of the bakery trailed by a yeasty aroma. “
Ach
, Tommy. Look at you.” She smushed his cheeks in her doughy fingers. “You need to eat more. Come. I give you schnitzels to take home to your dad.”
“I can’t now. Thank you. I’m looking for Kate Adams. Have you seen her?”
Elsie’s eyes twinkled with the same matchmaker’s gleam she’d sported the night he’d escorted her daughter to the high school prom. Except tonight his heart was pounding a hundred beats a second for an entirely different reason.
“
Ja
, she was here. Half an hour ago, maybe.”
“Thank you.” He sprinted the half block to the front door of A Cup or Two and scanned the shop through the front window. A teenager was wiping down tables. A couple of booths had patrons, but no sign of Kate. Taking a deep breath, he plunged down the side alley.
A cat screeched and streaked past him.
He gripped the metal handrail and mounted the stairs two at a time. Rust crumbled beneath his palm. The trash-tainted air tasted foul. Tom didn’t want to think about what other foul-smelling secrets they might be hiding behind their fancy storefront.
At the top of the stairs, he willed his heart to slow. How would he explain his sudden appearance on their doorstep without making Darryl suspicious?
Tom recalled the twinkle in Elsie’s eye. Yes, a ruse could work, if necessary. He tapped on the door.
Darryl, his shirt rumpled and hair a mess, as if he’d been wrestling something or someone, frowned. “Detective? May I help you?”
Tom looked past Darryl’s shoulder as discreetly as possible but couldn’t see beyond the narrow hallway. “I’m looking for Kate. I saw her car down the street, and she’d mentioned she might drop by to visit your wife.”
Darryl’s taut stance relaxed a fraction. “Kate,” he shouted down the hall. “You have company.”
Kate appeared in the hallway, eyes wide with surprise.
At the sight of her unharmed, Tom’s concern melted. “There you are, sweetie,” he crooned, stepping forward to catch her hands in his. “You had me worried.”
An adorable flush washed over her cheeks. “Tom?” The inflection she added to his name asked,
Why are you here, acting like my boyfriend?
“I made our reservations at the Wildflower for five.” Tom shifted his gaze sideways to indicate the ruse was for Darryl’s benefit. “You must’ve lost track of time.” Tom showed her his watch.
Kate blinked, looking a little stunned. “Oh. Is it that late already? I’m sorry.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter.
He took the opportunity to survey the room. Aside from her purse, the counters and table were empty. A tropical tree with a spiny greenish-purple fruit stood next to the tiny window overlooking the side alley. He stepped back to let Kate go in front of him and scanned the tiny living room off the other side of the hall. A ratty sofa, two chairs, and a TV were the sole contents. The couple was definitely cash-strapped.
Kate hitched her purse strap over her shoulder. “Was that you on the phone earlier? I had my hands . . . oh, never mind. Let me say good-bye to Beth and then we can go.”
For Darryl’s benefit, Tom flashed her a grin that said, “I can’t wait.”
The color in her cheeks deepened. Kate was a natural. She couldn’t have acted the part of besotted girlfriend better if they’d planned it. The gentle sway of her hair as she flitted down the hall awakened a yearning to run his fingers through her curls to see if they were as silky as they seemed. Maybe stopping by the Wildflower for dinner wasn’t such a bad idea. For appearances’ sake. After all, they had to eat, and he wouldn’t want Darryl to catch on that this had been a ruse.
“I’m surprised Kate never mentioned you two were dating,” Darryl said a little too offhandedly for Tom’s peace of mind, especially since his latest suspect in Daisy’s murder investigation now stood between him and the door.
If Kate’s safety didn’t hang in the balance, Tom would’ve liked nothing more than to interrogate Darryl right then.
Instead, Tom rubbed his jaw and said, “Well, you know how it is. Until I closed the Leacock investigation, I wasn’t at liberty to make my feelings known. But . . .” He lifted his palms in an exaggerated shrug, letting his gaze drift down the hall in the direction Kate had disappeared, wishing he’d trailed her in order to catch a glimpse of the bedroom.
He forced his attention back to Darryl. “I think the attraction is mutual.”
“Huh,” Darryl grunted. “I’d kind of gotten the impression she despised cops.”
The revelation jabbed Tom square in the chest. Being despised was part of the job description, but Kate didn’t seem like the type who would share the revulsion. “Really? Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. Just this attitude she gets when anyone talks about being caught speeding, that sort of thing.” Darryl elbowed Tom’s side and gave a couple of exaggerated winks. “Maybe she thinks getting in good with someone on the inside will get her out of a ticket.”
Kate flounced toward them, wearing a sassy grin. “I do believe Darryl’s jealous.” She breezed past Tom and tapped Darryl’s chest. “And no, I won’t ask Tom to fix
your
speeding tickets.”
Tom laughed. Ah, he could love this woman. “Sorry, Kish. Do the crime. Pay the time.”
Darryl snickered, but with just enough edge to suggest a guilty conscience.
Tom rested his palm at the small of Kate’s back and urged her toward the door. “We’ll see ya.”
Kate fluttered her fingers at Darryl as she stepped onto the outside landing. She continued to play the part of love-struck
date until her feet hit the ground and the click of a deadbolt echoed in the narrow alley. “Now, do you mind telling me what that was all about?”
Uncertain whether Kish might be listening through an open window or watching for them from the front of their apartment, Tom hurried Kate forward, still touching her waist. “The show’s not over yet. I’ll walk you to your car. We’ll talk at the Wildflower.”
She stopped and gawked at him. “You really have a reservation?”
He winked.
A jumble of emotions, from surprise to befuddlement, paraded across her face. The fact she didn’t seem at all displeased by the idea of joining him for dinner prompted him to silently pray that a table would be available at the busiest restaurant in town.
As they emerged from the alley, Tom glanced up at the Kish apartment and glimpsed movement behind the window. Tom dipped his head and whispered in Kate’s ear. “We’re being watched.” Her fragrance—lavender, if he wasn’t mistaken—teased his senses, and he let his gaze linger on her profile. Her creamy complexion radiated a natural beauty he had no business noticing when he should be focusing on the case, but he couldn’t resist. Surprisingly, for the first time since his partner’s death, Tom didn’t want to resist.
To Kate’s credit, she kept walking down the sidewalk toward her car and surprised him by entwining her arm around his. “Honestly, Tom. If you wanted to go out with me, all you had to do was ask.” The teasing smile on her lips made his heart do a tiny flip. She slipped her arm free and tapped the unlock button on her key remote.
At the beep, he opened the driver’s door and met her gaze. “All right then, will you join me for dinner?”
“I’d love to. Thank you.”
The mischief in her eyes made his legs buckle.
Oh, boy.
How was he supposed to ensure
she
stayed out of danger when she had enough firepower in one glance to do serious damage to his common sense?
He hurried across the street to his own car. Once inside, he dug the business card for the Wildflower restaurant out of his wallet and dialed the number. If there hadn’t been a hit-and-run in the restaurant’s parking lot his first week on the job, he probably wouldn’t have known much about the town’s hottest new establishment, let alone had its phone number.
The hostess answered on the first ring. Tom gave his name and asked for a reservation for two as soon as possible.
“Oh, I remember you,” the hostess squealed. “You’re that nice detective who tracked down the guy who hit Sally. Just a minute, I’ll see what I can do.”
Tom set his cell in its holder and pulled onto the street behind Kate’s car. Good thing for him he’d solved the hit-and-run case, or the hostess might have told him to eat somewhere else . . . like Mike’s Truck Stop on the edge of town. He might never have had a steady girl, but Tom was smart enough to know that you didn’t take your date to a restaurant where all the clientele wore plaid shirts and baseball caps, or where the tables had laminated place mats with ads for the local septic tank cleaning company, or where dollar-store plastic vines were wrapped around an indoor arbor spiked with artificial flowers covered in more dust than last winter’s snowfall.
“Detective,” the young woman came back on the line.
“You’re in luck. I have a table for two that will be available in about ten minutes.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” Now all he had to do was figure out what reason he’d give Kate for cutting short her visit with Beth. A reason that would make her cautious around Darryl without divulging her boss’s possible link to Daisy’s murder.
The hostess led them to a small table tucked into the corner, perfect for a private conversation.
Out of habit, Tom took the chair that backed to the wall so he could watch the room. The place was packed with casually attired couples in their mid-thirties to fifties—not a plaid shirt in sight. No one showed any special interest in him or Kate. Soft music played in the background, and flickering candles added to the romantic atmosphere.
After the hostess left them with their menus, Kate looked at him with a mix of curiosity and delight. “I can’t believe you brought me here. I thought for sure you were just worried about my visiting Beth and made up the dinner plans so Darryl wouldn’t know you were still working the case.”
Tom rubbed the back of his neck and lifted one side of his lips in a sheepish grin. “I
was
worried. And I
did
make up the story, but after you accepted my invitation, I couldn’t resist following through. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of taking a beautiful woman to dinner.”
The color that rushed to her cheeks reassured him that Kate, loyal Kate, was the sweet, innocent, hometown girl she seemed. Nothing like the woman who’d hijacked his partner’s heart and cost him his life. Maybe when this case was over they could enjoy a real date.
“You know . . . you don’t have to flatter me to get the information you’re after.”
“Trust me. That was not flattery.”
“
That
coming from the man who told me to trust no one?” she teased, ducking behind her menu.
He tipped the laminated page forward. “I believe those were my dad’s instructions. I’m the one who launched the recovery effort after you marched into Kish’s apartment despite Dad’s warning.”
Kate’s eyes rounded, the mischievous twinkle supplanted by apprehension. “You thought Darryl or Beth would hurt me? They’re colleagues, friends. You’re supposed to be getting the evidence to lock up Edward.”
“Beth followed you last night and then sped away. I think that’s suspicious.”
“You think everything is suspicious. Is there no one you trust?”
“Yes.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice in the hope she would do the same. “I’m trusting
you
to stay out of trouble.”