Death Drops (15 page)

A second later, the folder opened. Unfortunately, it was blank. I felt the same way.

Jackson put his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, you okay, McQuade?”

“Definitely not. I don’t know what to do,” I said, and looked up at him. “Jackson, I need your help now more than ever. What do you say?”

But before he could reply, we heard a
big
crash.

“Okay, now what was
that
?” Jackson said.

We ran for the back door, where we found our answer. Our salamander-green delivery van, which had lavender plants painted on it along with
Nature’s Way Market and Café,
was now wedged next to the stockade fence that separated Nature’s
Way from Nan’s Needlework. Merrily apparently had been trying to back out when things went haywire. She spotted me and jumped out of the van.

“I don’t know what happened. I had the car in reverse and I was maneuvering my way out when the brakes stopped working.”

“It’s a good thing you weren’t driving on the Main Road, if that’s the case,” Jackson said.

“Where were you going?” I asked her.

“Betty’s Organic Bake Shop. She makes the breads we serve. And we’re almost all out.”

I hoped we didn’t owe Betty money, too.

Allie shouted to me from the upstairs window. “What’s going on down there?”

“The brakes on the van gave out!” I shouted back.

“We’ll be right down,” she said, closing the window.

A moment later, Allie and Hector appeared on the back porch. I introduced everyone quickly, and Hector and Jackson went over to the van. Jackson released the hood latch; Hector lifted the hood and examined the engine.

Jackson walked around to the front of the van. “What do you think?”

“The brake lines were definitely cut,” Hector said. “It looks as if someone is causing trouble for you, Willow.”

“That’s awful! Who would do this?” Merrily said, looking on the verge of tears. Allie put her arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“I don’t know,” I said as I walked over, leaned in, and looked at the cleanly snipped brake lines. “First the break-in, then the fire, the clonk on the head, the AC, and now this.” I felt that cold shiver of fear snake down my spine again. This stunk. I turned to Jackson. “See? Someone is out to ruin the store.”

Jackson rubbed his chin. “I admit it does look suspicious.”

Merrily, meanwhile, continued in meltdown mode. “What am I going to do about the pickup from the bakery?” she cried.

“Calm down. I can give you a ride,” Allie said, and pointed at her sunshine-yellow VW Beetle, which thankfully hadn’t been involved in the accident.

“Actually, I think you should stay put, Merrily. You’ve had enough excitement for one day. Make yourself a nice cup of herbal tea. Not an energy drink,” I added. I definitely had a sugar addict on my hands. I pointed to Aunt Claire’s red PT Cruiser. “Allie, you and I can take Aunt Claire’s car. It really holds a lot of stuff.”

“No problem,” Allie said.

“It’s in Southold, right on the Main Road,” Merrily said. “Here’s the address.” She grabbed a brown paper bag from the passenger seat, scribbled on it, and handed it to me. “But hurry, we are really, really low. Oh, I’ll have to call the mechanic, too.”

“Merrily,” I said. “The important thing is that you’re okay. We’ll take care of the bread run. Go on inside and get that cup of tea.”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling and going inside.

“That’s a different side of her,” Allie commented. “She’s always so chipper.”

“True. I think the stress and strain of Aunt Claire’s death and all the crazy comings and goings have just worn her down. Once she rests, she’ll feel better,” I said.

“If you want to go, first we have to get that van out of the way,” Hector said. “Willow, why don’t you steer the van? Jackson and I will push you.”

“No, not Jackson,” I said. “I don’t want him to hurt his back again. Jackson, why don’t you take the wheel?”

“That’ll work,” Jackson said, slowly climbing up into the
van. He put the car in neutral and took the wheel as Hector, Allie, and I pushed it into the corner of the yard.

Jackson got out of the van and came over to me. “I don’t know what I can find out, but I’m going to get started.”

I felt a surge of hope. “So you’ll help me?”

“Yes. Claire was tops in my book. She listened to me complain more times than I can count. I owe her.” He gestured to the van. “It’s also obvious someone is out to hurt you. From what you’ve told me, the police don’t seem to be taking the threats seriously. Probably because they consider you a suspect. Regardless, I’m going to look into it. Claire would want me to. Besides, you’re growing on me, McQuade. I like your style. You don’t take no for an answer.”

I felt myself blush. He definitely seemed interested in me, and the feeling was very mutual. “Thanks, Jackson. I really appreciate your help.”

“No worries,” he said, heading to the porch. “But watch yourself, okay? Until we find out what’s going on, you’re in danger.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” I said, quickly filling him in on Hector’s background and the fact that Allie and I had taken courses in self-defense.

“That’s all good,” he said as he opened the door and stepped inside, “but you still need to be extra careful. Call me or the police if you see anything suspicious. Okay?”

I nodded. “Thank you, Jackson.”

He waved as he closed the door. “No problem.”

“Did he agree to help you?” Allie said as she came over, headed for the Cruiser.

“Yes,” I said, blowing out a breath.

“That’s good news.”

I followed her and opened the driver’s door. “Yes, and we desperately need it right now.”

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I just got back from a camping trip and I have a bad case of poison ivy. Can you recommend a natural remedy that will help?

Signed,

Awfully Itchy

Dear Awfully Itchy,

Poison ivy produces urushiol, which irritates your skin and causes an itchy rash. Typically, it lasts about a week. To get better faster, natural cures can help. If your poison ivy is itchy and oozing, apply a paste of baking soda and apple cider vinegar or oatmeal. Leave it on until you take a shower. If you need to, apply it again. You can also find good poison ivy treatments at your health food store. Choose formulas that contain gumweed, jewelweed, and plantain to calm the itch and remove toxins. The homeopathic remedy
Rhus toxicodendron
can also help you heal faster by stimulating the immune system.

Signed,

Dr. Willow McQuade

Getting to Betty’s Organic Bake Shop was a quick trip, only about seven minutes out of town, along scenic Route 25. We passed the pond, with geese congregated all about, the Lutheran church, the miniature golf course, and several craft stands, then went up a hill with a peekaboo view of the wetlands below. Once over Mill Creek, with its vista of the bay, we passed the fish market, the organic vegetable stand, and the animal hospital, and then eased into Southold. We drove with the windows down, and the fresh breeze was delightful, salty and tangy.

We found Betty’s Organic Bake Shop wedged between a pottery studio and doctor’s office on the Main Road. A bright, welcoming place, the building was painted white with navy-blue trim and navy-blue awnings. I pulled into the parking area in front and we hopped out.

I opened the door to the delicious scent of fresh-baked bread and immediately began to salivate. A few people were queued up to the counter, but other than that, it didn’t seem too busy. When we reached the counter, we were greeted with a smile from an apple-cheeked, pear-shaped woman wearing a baker’s apron that said Betty’s Organic Bakery.

“Can I help you?”

I scanned the bins behind her, which were full of breads, pastries, and doughnuts, and wanted it all. My stomach was empty and it was very close to lunchtime. But I tried to remain focused. “I’m Willow McQuade from Nature’s Way Market and Café. I’m here to pick up our bread order.”

The woman frowned. “You haven’t paid for the last one yet. I’m sorry about your aunt, but business is business.”

My stomach lurched. Allie and I traded an “uh-oh” look. Luckily we were now the only ones in the store. I didn’t need
the whole East End to know we had financial troubles. “How much how do we owe you?”

She pulled over a ledger and flipped it open. “Two hundred sixty-two dollars and fifty cents.”

I blew out a sigh of relief. Now that amount I could handle. “Check?” I asked, opening my checkbook.

“Wonderful. Make it out to Betty Evans. You want the usual?”

“Sure,” I said, writing out the check. I wanted to get to the bottom of my aunt’s finances. I needed to know why the business was in such bad shape. “Did you regularly have a problem with payment, Betty?”

She grabbed five loaves of freshly baked bread and put them into bags. “Just lately. Claire was really good about paying me when we first started doing business together last year. But in the past two months or so, I think things must have gone wrong. She was always late with payment and carrying a balance. Whenever Janice came to pick up the bread order, she seemed stressed out to me. Although, let’s face it, she isn’t exactly Ms. Mary Sunshine on a good day. You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes.

I sure did. I nodded in agreement. “Was she complaining about my aunt? Or her job?”

“Not in so many words, but I got the impression that she wasn’t happy with how business was being done. She was always saying they didn’t have enough money.” She popped two dozen yummy-looking rolls into another bag. “I do remember her saying once that Claire seemed distracted.”

“In what way?”

“Janice said she was always holed up in her office, out of the shop, or off to New York for meetings. I used to see Claire next door sometimes, at Dr. Neville’s. Arnold is a dermatologist. About what I don’t know.”

I thought maybe I did.

We thanked Betty for her
bread and left the store, and I headed next door while Allie waited in the car. I figured I’d have better luck alone. I stepped inside to find a pretty twenty-something receptionist wearing a flower-print dress, who gave me a once-over for any zits or other blemishes. Her skin was clear, natch.

“We’re about to close,” she said, not being helpful. “Can I help you?”

“Is Dr. Neville around? He treated my aunt Claire, Claire Hagan?”

She made a show of looking at the appointment book on the desk in front of her. “I can’t talk about other patients. But if you’d like, you can make an appointment for yourself.”

Did I look like I needed to see a dermatologist? To my thinking, my complexion was one of my best features. I always got compliments on it.

The door opened behind her and a man I presumed to be Dr. Arnold Neville came out. He put a file down on the desk, told the receptionist he’d see her in the morning, and turned to go. But I had other plans for him. “Dr. Neville?” He turned back to look at me. “I’m Willow McQuade, Claire Hagan’s niece. Can I speak to you for a minute?”

He made a big show of looking at his watch, and then sighed. I guessed I was making him late for his golf game. Regardless, he opened his office door and said, “Please come in.”

I followed him inside and he closed the door. The office
was bare-bones, just a desk, a bookcase, filing cabinets, and an unhealthy-looking aloe vera plant on the windowsill. Two diplomas had been placed on the wall along with some generic seascapes. I walked past a door that opened into a small adjacent room that looked like a lab, filled with test tubes and equipment and smelling of ammonia. I wondered if he, too, was making up a version of Fresh Face. He gestured to the guest chair and we both sat down.

“I was so sorry to hear about your aunt. My deepest condolences.”

“Thank you so much. It has been a difficult time.” Especially since it had become increasingly clear that Aunt Claire hadn’t been keeping a close eye on her business before she died. I had a strong feeling I was playing catch-up and whoever had killed her and/or stolen the Fresh Face formula was way ahead of me. Case in point, his lab. “I was wondering why Aunt Claire came to see you.”

“She had some problems with her skin.”

Problems with her skin? Aunt Claire, like me, had skin like a baby’s bottom, even considering her age. He wasn’t being straight with me. “I think there was more to it than that. Did she ever mention her new herbal face cream, Fresh Face?”

He shifted in his seat. “We talked about it, yes.”

“Was she looking for advice? Were you working on it together?”

He held up his hand in a “whoa” gesture. “Now wait a minute. I don’t think this is any of your business.”

“I am her sole heir and someone stole that formula from the store. I need to find out who it was.”

He pointed to himself and said, “Surely you can’t think that I broke into your store and took the formula.”

“Who said anything about breaking in?” I questioned him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair again. “I must have read something about it in the paper.”

The phone on his desk buzzed. He grabbed the receiver as if it were a lifeline. “Yes, Penny?” He listened for a moment to what I was sure was a lame excuse to get me out of his office. “Thank you for letting me know.” He hung up the phone and stood up. “I have to be going. Office emergency.”

Was there a really big zit that had to be dealt with? I thought not. He obviously wanted me gone.

“No problem. I’d like to talk to you again, if that’s all right.”

“My schedule is completely booked for the next month. Besides, I’ve told you all I know,” he said, going to the door and opening it for me.

I didn’t believe that for a second.

“So what did he say?”
Allie asked.

“It’s what he didn’t say,” I replied as I nudged the car out onto the road and headed east, back toward Greenport. “He definitely knows more than he’s telling. If he worked on the formula with Claire, he might have a motive. He could have killed her and then come back for the formula.”

“But if they worked on it together, wouldn’t he have a copy?”