Death Drops (10 page)

Although it was a nice gesture, it didn’t do much to loosen the knot of tension in my gut. Clearly, Detective Koren had made his “interest” known. I couldn’t help but feel that he was marking his territory.

I went to bed but
couldn’t sleep so I went back downstairs to the office. After working my way through more Fresh Face e-mails, I finally drifted off to sleep around midnight. But early Tuesday morning, at 4:55, I awoke to a thumping noise coming from the kitchen. Qigong, who I’d carried upstairs to bed to play protector (Gingko and Ginger were nonplussed) jumped onto the floor and started barking.

Had my intruder from Saturday night returned? Should I call the police this time before I went downstairs and checked it out? Did I really want Detective Koren giving me a “You are my prime suspect” face if I called him and it turned out to be nothing? I decided to opt for the cautious approach and grabbed Aunt Claire’s tennis racket from the closet before heading downstairs with Qigong.

When I got to the first floor, I stopped and listened. Yes, there were definitely sounds coming from the kitchen. What was going on? Qigong started barking frantically.

Quickly, I headed up the frozen-food aisle with Qigong close by my heels, past the refrigerators that held everything from organic mac and cheese to organic pizzas to organic enchiladas, and headed in the direction of the kitchen. Reaching the endcap
of Pirate’s Booty and blue corn chips, I peered to my right. Yes, there was a light on in the kitchen, which was divided into a prep area in the back and a counter to serve customers in front.

I could hear a rumbling, and then a crackling. Was someone cooking? Before I could find out, everything went black.

I woke up to the
sound of Qigong barking, a crushing headache, and the smell of something burning. As I sat up I spotted a dented container of green food supplement powder nearby. It looked like someone had come up behind me in the frozen-food aisle and bashed me over the head with it. I didn’t touch it, so the police could brush it for prints if they deemed it necessary. So far they weren’t taking me very seriously, except of course as a person of interest. But that smell was definitely worth checking out. I was grateful Qigong had woken me.

Rounding the counter into the main prep area, I found the wall and the shelves next to the stove engulfed in flames. Panicked, I filled a bowl with water and threw it on the flames. The fire hissed back at me, reminding me of Janice at the memorial service. Did she do this? I ran to the checkout counter, grabbed the portable phone, and dialed 911, hoping the fire department would arrive before the entire business burned down.

Fortunately, the volunteer firefighters arrived in record time, put out the blaze, and cleared the area. As I stood anxiously on the front porch, they informed me that the damage was mostly cosmetic and it looked like the fire had been caused by faulty wiring in the stove. But I didn’t believe it. I was sure it was arson and that Janice was behind it. And when Detectives Koren and Coyle arrived, I told them so.

“Just because she said she is going to contest the will and threatened you is not enough reason to arrest her for this,”
Detective Koren said, gesturing to the burned remains of the shelving next to the stove. “As we discussed before, doctor, you have more than enough motive for the two of you.”

My blood ran cold, but I tried not to show it. “You need to check Janice out,” I said, mentally adding that Detective Coyle should also check out a natural remedy for the adult acne on his cheeks. Some tea tree oil would do wonders. It’s readily absorbed by the skin, which means it can help dry up and heal pimples. Calendula, from the flower petals of a marigold, with vitamin E, is also excellent for healing skin with acne, and lavender essential oil is a good antibiotic and antiseptic.

Coyle must have noticed me examining him, because he said, “What are you looking at?”

“Excuse me, but I notice that you seem to have a problem with acne,” I said, sharing the tips about tea tree oil, calendula, and vitamin E with him. “You can also take retinol. I have some here.”

“Thank you, doctor, I’ll keep that in mind,” Detective Coyle said with a distinct edge to his voice.

Way to get on his good side, Willow,
I thought, chagrined.

“You might want to focus on yourself,” Detective Koren said, pointing to the back of my head, where a goose egg was rising at the point of impact. “That bump on your noggin doesn’t look too good.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “But aren’t you going to find out who did this? If it’s not Janice, then who?”

Not looking at me, Detective Koren scribbled something in his notebook and snapped it shut. “You don’t need to tell us how to do our jobs, Dr. McQuade. We’ll make the appropriate inquiries.”

But in the meantime, I needed protection. I definitely didn’t feel safe here now. “Is there any way you can have a patrol car cruise past the store tonight? This is making me very nervous.”

Detective Koren put his hand on my shoulder. “Dr. McQuade, this is a very safe town. Our job is to keep it that way. Whoever did this was targeting your aunt. It doesn’t feel like a random act. As I said, even you have motive.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Sit tight,” he said, turning to leave. “We’ll be in touch soon.”

Oh goody, I thought. Not only was he not taking me seriously about Janice but he still considered me a suspect, and for that reason, wouldn’t provide protection. I felt scared, infuriated, and helpless. How could I turn this around?

I knew one way to start. After feeling around the bump and doing a self-check in the bathroom, I decided that it didn’t deserve ER attention. I didn’t feel nauseous or disoriented. My only symptom was pain from the bump, which was bearable. I grabbed some arnica homeopathic pellets off the shelf near the counter and slipped some under my tongue to help the bump heal.

With that taken care of, I turned my attention to my psychic needs. One of the best ways I knew to get myself back on an even keel was to do yoga and meditate. I was sure meditation would lead to answers. So after the last of the firemen left, I went upstairs to the yoga studio to do just that. Qigong, whose wound was healing fast, padded happily behind me.

I opened the studio door to find sun streaming through the tall windows onto the wooden floor. As I breathed in the lingering smells of patchouli incense, I began to relax. I pulled out a sticky mat from the pile next to the wall and unrolled it on the floor. Qigong settled into a place in the sun and promptly fell asleep.

I started with mountain pose, or tadasana, which involves standing on your own two feet and staring straight ahead. I
centered myself and moved to mountain pose with my arms overhead, reaching for the sky.

Feeling more expansive now, I spaced my feet four feet apart and moved on to the extended triangle pose, a position that gets its name from the triangle shape formed by one’s legs. I reached one arm overhead and the other toward the floor, and then moved on to the warrior pose, with one arm extended to the front and one to the back, which always helped me feel strong.

Next, I did a standing forward bend pose, leaned over, and reached for my toes, since inversion postures are good for brain circulation and I needed to be sharp right now, and moved into downward-facing dog to stretch out my legs and arms. I wrapped up with a lying twist pose, with my feet wide apart, and finally corpse pose, where I lay flat on the floor and could feel the earth supporting me.

As I lay on the floor, I tried to let all the events of the past few hours go, but I kept smelling burning wood, and the bump on the back of my head kept throbbing. I decided to make a more conscious effort to meditate, so I sat cross-legged and began to focus on my breathing. Maybe if I could get myself calmed down enough, I could figure out what to do next.

I started my mindfulness meditation by focusing on the breath in my belly and continued to watch it as the thoughts in my mind began to calm and finally abate. It was good to feel peaceful, even though I knew it wouldn’t last. Not with the fire damage, Simon’s unexpected appearance, Janice, the missing Fresh Face formula, and Aunt Claire’s murder. But right now, in this moment, I relaxed into the meditation and felt release.

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I was helping a friend move this weekend and now my back is killing me. It’s really difficult to even sit and stand. What do you recommend for a bad back?

Signed,

Feeling Like a Pretzel

Dear Feeling Like a Pretzel,

When you strain the muscles around the spine, you can end up with a backache. Some people take over-the-counter medicines for back pain, like aspirin and ibuprofen or what are known as NSAIDs (nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories), but I don’t recommend doing that, because long-term use can lead to problems like stomach ulcers. Instead, to help your body repair itself, think about putting nutrients like glucosamine sulfate, chondroitin sulfate, and omega-3 fatty acids in your natural remedy toolbox.

Signed,

Willow McQuade, ND

Once I’d finished my yoga routine, I changed into jeans and a T-shirt and headed downstairs to grab some breakfast. I decided on steel-cut oatmeal, which is a good source of fiber and protein and helps reduce cholesterol, too, then topped it with organic salted butter, a dash of organic brown sugar, and lots of luscious blueberries bursting with vital antioxidants. Deciding to dine al fresco, I headed out to the porch with Qigong. The early morning air was fresh and clean. I took a few deep breaths of the salty sea air, abundant with negative ions that can improve one’s mood. After the rough start to this day, I needed all the help I could get.

After breakfast, feeling refreshed, I faced the office. Not only did I want to find a contractor to fix the fire damage, I also needed to continue going through the e-mails about the Fresh Face formula and handle any managerial duties that might present themselves. The outstanding bill from Helen’s Organics weighed heavily on my mind. I just had to hope that the will was probated in time to pay it, unlikely with Janice throwing a wrench in the works.

A few hours later, Merrily and Julian arrived. While they went to inspect the damage, I noticed an elderly man moving slowly around the aisles. Stooped over and walking like he was in pain, he was having a hard time getting from point A to point B. I went over to see if I could help him.

But as I got closer, I was surprised to see that he was not old at all. Tall, with close-cropped dark brown hair and a craggy, handsome face, he was dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, and white Converse sneakers. His best feature? Sparkling greenish-blue eyes that reminded me of Aunt Claire’s. I felt the knife twist. God, I missed her.

I tried to steady my emotions and focus on helping this customer. I might not be able to pay the supplier today, but I knew
something about natural medicine. “Do you need help with anything?”

He turned to me holding a bottle of fish oil and said sarcastically, “Why, do I look like I need help?”

Okay, Mr. Defensive. Trying not to take offense, I pointed to the bottle of fish oil. “That’s a good start. The omega-three essential fatty acids in the fish oil will help your back. It’s your back that’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

He put his hand on the small of his back and brusquely answered, “What gave it away? The shuffling walk, or the stooping?”

“Can I ask what happened?”

He waved the question away like it was a pesky fly. “Occupational hazard. Happened on the job. I used to be a cop.”

A former cop? Perhaps the Universe was sending me some help this morning. I sure could use some insider’s knowledge, considering Detective Koren’s interest in my inheritance.

“Did you get shot?” I asked.

“Direct, aren’t you? Most people are too polite to ask right out like that.” He seemed to like my approach, though, because he gave a crooked smile, which reinforced his Gerard Butler–type good looks, before adding, “Nothing so glamorous. I was chasing a suspect. He rounded a corner. I followed him and slipped on a huge patch of black ice. It happened last winter.”

“Ouch,” I said sympathetically. “And you’ve been out of work ever since?”

“Yes. It’s put a real crimp in my style. Not only can’t I work, but I can’t do the things I want to do, like putting in an organic vegetable garden and tending to my roses. I’ve even had to hire a part-time gardener. I’m not a complainer, but it is discouraging. It’s been six months since the accident, and it feels like I’m making progress by inches, not feet.”

“Perhaps I can help you. I’m Willow McQuade—Dr. McQuade, actually. I’m Claire’s niece.”
And maybe you can help me by using your cop smarts to figure out exactly what I ought to do next,
I thought.

He brightened, then turned somber and held out his hand. “Jackson Spade. I’m so sorry. Your aunt was aces. She really helped me a lot. I’m doing better, if you can believe it. Before she put me on fish oil and glucosamine and chondroitin sulfate, I couldn’t get out of bed. The pain is less now. Her advice did make a difference.”

Yes, I could tell by your happy countenance,
I thought. I plucked a bottle off the supplement wall. “Have you tried devil’s claw? It’s a plant from southwestern Africa that has anti-inflammatory and pain-relieving properties. Research shows that it can provide as much pain relief as prescription anti-inflammatories.”

He took the bottle from me. “I think she mentioned this, but I hadn’t gotten around to taking it.”

“Try it,” I said. “You should also be taking vitamins B1, B2, B6, and B12 for chronic back pain. Studies show that these vitamins can help block pain receptors.” I plucked a good B-complex vitamin supplement from the wall.

“I feel better already,” Jackson said, softening. He looked at me with gratitude and maybe something else. Was he checking me out? “How can I thank you?”

“Now that you mention it, since you are a cop and all . . .”

“Was a cop,” he corrected. “I’m on indefinite disability now.”

“Right, you were a cop. I could use your perspective on Aunt Claire’s murder.”