Death Drops (22 page)

He put his head in his hands. “I’m toast. I’ve got a kid who is applying to NYU and I’m going to lose my job.”

“Now, we don’t know that. I’ve been busy trying to find some answers. A local retired cop named Jackson Spade is helping me.”

“I think I need to bring in my own man.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through numbers.

The last thing we needed was someone else gumming up the works. My major focus was finding Aunt Claire’s killer and the formula, in that order. Randy’s operative, whoever it was,
would be intent on finding the formula, period. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I said, “I don’t want a stranger hanging around here. It might make customers nervous.” Which was also true.

Randy stopped scrolling. “I understand that, but I need to find this formula.”

“There’s no record of it at all? I find that strange.”

Randy sighed. “We do have a copy of the formula but not the final version. Claire was supposed to send that to me last week. But then . . .”

“She was murdered before she could finish,” I said.

“Yes.” McCarty spread his hands, and then nervously wiped his palms on the tops of his trouser legs. “Can this Jackson person help? If someone who stole it was, let’s just say ambitious, they could sell what they found to a competitor who could beat us to the punch.”

“We’ve got several suspects,” I said, and ran down the case against Janice, Gavin, Polly, Dr. Neville, and the Polumbos. I also told him about my conversation with Helen of Helen’s Organics this morning and my suspicions about the pet store owners.

McCarty blew out a breath. “You’ve done a lot, but I still think I need to bring a man in.”

Jackson chose this time to walk into the office. He seemed a little less hunched, but very stressed. Qigong jumped off the couch and went over to him. Jackson stooped over as far as he could and petted him on the head. I could tell from his expression that he had something big on his mind.

“Jackson, this is Randy McCarty. He’s the development executive at Green Focus. He’s here about the missing Fresh Face formula.”

Randy got up and shook Jackson’s hand. “Terrible business, this.”

“Yes, Claire was the best,” Jackson said, and looked at me. “Willow, something has happened.”

“Something bad?” Had my feeling this morning come true?

“Yes, something bad. I ran down those names you gave me. I cleared the first two, Scott and Milton. Both had alibis for the night of the break-in.”

“And Sean Nichols?”

He shook his head. “He’s dead, Willow. Someone strangled him.”

Randy McCarty and I sat
in stunned silence. Jackson came over to me. “You okay?”

Dazed, I nodded. “I’m okay.”

Qigong didn’t think so. He trotted over, hopped onto my lap, and licked my face. I gently scratched his ears and turned to Jackson. “What happened?”

“I did the rounds of the other two guys, and when I got to Nichols’s house, it was past twelve. Sean’s place was in Driftwood Cove, corner unit. I knocked hard, but no answer. I pushed on the door just to check and found it was open, so I walked in and he was lying on the kitchen floor. You could see the bruises around his neck. I checked for a pulse, but he was gone. Nothing to do.”

“Oh, God.” I shook my head. What next?

“Before I called the cops, from a pay phone, anonymously, I did take a good look around. I found an empty manila envelope that had
Fresh Face Formula
written on the front, so that connects him to Claire’s murder. But no cyanide.”

“What’s going on?” Randy asked nervously. Jackson quickly explained Nichols’s connection to the store.

“Did you know him, Jackson?” I asked.

He locked eyes with me. “No, Willow, I’d never met him. But my sources tell me he was a petty thief. He’d been arrested once for B and E.”

I placed my palms on the desk and tried to quiet my nerves with some deep breathing. “So is he the guy, or not? Did he kill Aunt Claire?”

Jackson shrugged. “Maybe. More likely? The real murderer hired him to get close to Claire and then steal the formula. Once he had it, Nichols was dispensable.”

I felt shook-up and suddenly scared. Someone out there had been ruthless enough to kill Aunt Claire, hire someone to steal her formula, and then kill that person when he no longer proved useful.

McCarty began scrolling through the names on his phone again. “I’ve got to get someone on this asap.”

Jackson held up his hand. “I’m on it, McCarty. I’m doing all that can be done.”

He thought about this and put his BlackBerry back into his pocket. “I suppose you are, but perhaps I can help in another way. I’m going to hire someone to do some digging at our competitors to see if they’re working on anything new. Will you update me on your progress?”

“Yes,” Jackson and I said together.

“Good.” He stood and checked his watch. “I can just make the next bus.” He reached over to shake my hand and then turned to Jackson. “I’m leaving this in your hands.”

Jackson gestured to me. “We’re both on this.”

He nodded to me, said, “Okay, then,” and left.

Jackson took a seat in the guest chair. “He’s tightly wound.”

“We all are,” I replied weakly, and stared at a painting of London’s Clock Tower on the far wall. Suddenly I wished I were anywhere but here.

Jackson cocked his head like a bird listening for worms in the garden. “McQuade? You okay?”

I pulled my attention back to the present moment. “Fine. Let me tell you what I found out about Dan Polumbo.” I proceeded to relate how I had run into Dan this morning, his possible connection to Gavin Milton, and my conversation with Helen of Helen’s Organics.

He scribbled down everything I said onto his small notepad. “I’ll get a time of death on Nichols from the coroner, and then we’ll know if Polumbo or Helen could have done this. I’ll also have to run down alibis for Milton, his wife, those pet store owners, and Janice.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, and nodded to Janice as she entered the office. She had on the apron from her new job at Polly’s Peaceful Yoga. I was sure she’d worn it just to give me a dig. Without a word, she dropped a fat legal-sized packet on the desk. My stomach clenched. “What is this?” I picked it up and started to open it.

“I’m contesting the will,” she said.

Dear Dr. McQuade,

I’m a waitress and I’m on my feet all day long. I wear support hose but my varicose veins still make my legs ache. Is there anything natural that can help give me some relief?

Signed,

Achy, Breaky Legs

Dear Achy, Breaky Legs,

One of the best remedies for varicose veins is horse chestnut cream. Research published in the medical journal
International Angiology
in 2002 shows that taking horse chestnut seed extract orally helps to relieve pain, itching, fatigue, and swelling. You can also apply it topically. Just rub it on gently, especially if you are prone to blood clots. You’ll find horse chestnut seed extract and horse chestnut cream at your local health food store. It’s also helpful to eat foods that are rich in bioflavonoids, such as apricots, blackberries, cherries, and cantaloupes, because they contain potent antioxidants and help reduce inflammation.

Signed,

Dr. Willow McQuade

Janice stood there looking smug, like she’d backed me into a corner. I decided to do the same to her. “We were just talking about you, Janice.”

She narrowed her eyes and glared at me. “I’ll bet.”

“Where were you this afternoon?” I arched an eyebrow.

She pointed to her Polly’s Peaceful Yoga apron. “What does it look like? I was at work. What business is it of yours, anyway?”

“Sean Nichols was murdered today,” Jackson said, and tapped his notepad on his knee. “Know anything about that?”

Janice drilled me with a look. “Who’s he? Why would I have anything to do with his murder?”

“We think it may have something to do with Aunt Claire’s death.”

“I know you’re trying to pin that on me.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at me some more. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Who was here to help Claire build the business for the past ten years while you were out west? I was. Who held her hand through the whole development process of Fresh Face? I did. That’s why I’m contesting the will. I put my heart and soul into this place. And I did it for her.”

I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “She left me a letter . . .”

Janice waved away my comment, and said, “I know all about that,” which was a surprise to me. Had Claire told her about her intentions? Had Nick told Polly, who then told her?

Janice huffed. “That was just Claire being Claire. So dramatic. So unpractical. You don’t know anything about running a health food store.”

“I think she’s doing a pretty good job,” Jackson said.

Janice gave him a sour look. “That’s not what I hear.” She pointed at the packet. “This will effectively shut you down. This is what you deserve.” She walked to the door, stopped,
and turned back to us. “And if you hassle me anymore about Claire’s murder, you’ll be sorry.”

Before I could say something smart, the office phone rang and I glanced at the caller ID: Southold Dermatology. Picking up the phone, I watched Janice go and said hello.

“Ms. McQuade? It’s Penny at Dr. Neville’s. I need to see you.”

Jackson left to follow up
on Nichols’s time of death and check the alibis of our suspects while Qigong and I hopped into the Cruiser and headed to Southold. I called the estate lawyer, Mr. Matthews on my way, and left a message about Janice contesting the will, asking him to call me back right away.

When I got to Dr. Neville’s office, the place seemed deserted, with only a red Nissan Sentra that had seen better days in the parking lot. While Qigong stayed in the car and worked on a bone that he liked, I went into the office to find Penny red-faced and crying at her desk. She wore a T-shirt and jeans, not exactly office attire.

“Penny? Are you okay?”

She looked up at me and grabbed a tissue from the box on the desk and blew her nose. “No, I’m not okay. That bastard just fired me. On the phone!” she said as if it was one of the world’s greatest injustices.

“Fired you? What happened?” And what’s that got to do with me? I wondered.

She blew out a big sigh. “Oh, he got mad because I took a few two-hour lunches. Okay, maybe more than a few. But big deal. He can answer his own damn phones.”

I thought about Sean Nichols’s murder and wondered where Dr. Neville was.

“You said he called you. Where exactly is he?”

“He’s in Chicago at some stupid dermatology convention.”

“When did he leave?” Depending on when he left, it might make him a suspect in Nichols’s murder.

“This morning. He called me and fired me from the airport!” She started crying again. “I need this job. I’m going to Suffolk Community College. I’m in my first year.”

“I’m sure you’ll find another job,” I said. Especially with that work ethic.

“Right,” Penny said, and dabbed her eyes.

I needed to get back to the store, so I got to the point. “Why did you want to see me?”

She fished out a file from under the blotter and slapped it on top of the desk. “I know you want this,” she said, and pushed it toward me. “Serves him right.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Dr. Neville’s file on the work he did with your aunt. I think he was trying to do something with it. Every time I went into his office, he was on the phone with this file in front of him. It sounded like he was trying to sell something.”

My hands shook slightly as I picked up the file, opened it, and pulled out a few pages. It looked like some sort of formula with an extensive list of ingredients. Was this the missing Fresh Face formula? I looked more closely. No, it had been written by Neville, not Claire. Had he been cribbing notes on her formula when they met? Was he trying to sell the information? I had to get this to Randy McCarty at Green Focus. And fast.

I left Penny a small
bottle of Rescue Remedy to help calm her nerves and headed back to base. I could have called McCarty from the car, but I wanted to do it back at the office, where I could focus. I did call Jackson and leave a message, updating him on the latest development.

I reached the store, and Qigong and I met Hector at the back door. He bent down to pet the dog. “Willow, we’re just setting up. It’s going to look beautiful. The yard sale finds were indeed treasures.” His eyes sparkled with glee.

I smiled at him. “That’s wonderful, Hector. I’ll come up in a minute.” Qigong and I went to the office, where he hopped up on the couch and I hopped into the office chair and grabbed Aunt Claire’s iPhone. Before I could call McCarty, Merrily walked in and flopped in the guest chair. Stephen followed and stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on the shop. I looked out past him and watched Nick head toward the stairs. He wore his workout clothes, loose-fitting pants and a Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health T-shirt, from a retreat in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts that he visited at least two times a year. I planned to go up there this fall, if things went back to normal. Whatever that was. Nick threw me a wave. Strange that he didn’t stop in.

“We’ve got a problem,” Merrily said.

Another one? I put down the phone and blew out a breath. I really missed my nap.

“The register is short. I think Janice may have done it.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because when she first came in, she didn’t go right to your office. She was prowling around the aisles.”

“We couldn’t keep an eye on her because we had people to serve,” Stephen said.

“After she left, I noticed that the five hundred dollars that was stuffed under the drawer, our just-in-case money, was gone,” Merrily said.

“Just-in-case money?”

“Claire always kept five hundred dollars in the cash drawer. Just in case there was an emergency. She started doing it after 9/11. Said we needed to be prepared.”

That sounded like Aunt Claire. Taking precautions, sort of. Like the hidey-hole in the floor. But unfortunately, she didn’t take them far enough.