The Iced Princess (7 page)

“Sandy Gibbons was chomping at the bit for the info, but she's been MIA for the last ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Consider her found. You want me to tell her?”

“Yeah, go ahead, but no details yet.”

“I understand. And how are things going there?”

“So-so. Hey, I'll catch you later.”

By the time I hung up, Sandy's body had turned around in her chair. “My ears are burning.”

“It was Mark Weston, and he said I can tell you that it was Molly Dalton who died, and that her death is being investigated.”

Sandy almost toppled out of her chair. “Molly Dalton! Oh my God, I would not want to be the guy that killed her. Her husband will make sure he gets the gas chamber.”

“You're jumping to conclusions. First of all, we don't know that she was killed. For sure. And even if she was, we don't have the death penalty in Minnesota.”

“Oh, of course. But William Dalton and his family can probably move the trial to a state that does.”

“Sandy, it doesn't work that way.”

“Not for regular folks, it doesn't.”

Thinking about what Will Dalton might do to hurt Pinky's and my parents' businesses was scaring me more and more by the minute.

T
he phone rang first thing the next morning. I reached over and lifted the cordless out of its cradle and managed to get it right side up. “Yes?”

It was Pinky talking in a quiet voice. “Cami, I hate to ask you this, but do you think you can come in early today? I am freaking out being here alone. That darn Erin and her ghost talk. And I don't even believe in ghosts.”

I hadn't slept much all night. Between Molly's face with her unseeing eyes being front and center in my thoughts, and then worrying about her husband's reaction to the tragedy, I tossed and turned until after three o'clock. I rolled onto my side and looked at the clock: 7:20 a.m. It would have been dark outside when her shop opened at 7:00, since the sun came up just a little before that.

“No customers?”

“Not right now. The early crowd came and went, and I'm hoping the next wave will start soon, but in the meantime, here I am alone with my scary thoughts. The lights are off in your shop, and I keep seeing all kinds of shadows that seem to be moving whenever I look that way.”

“It's going to take me twenty minutes to get there. Hang on 'til then.”

“Oh, there's a customer coming in now, thank the good Lord!”

I hung up, and my body fought me every inch of the way as I got out of bed and waddled to the bathroom. I washed and brushed my hair and teeth and put on some light makeup then walked with less of a waddle to my bedroom closet. I threw on a peachy pink knitted pullover and gray pants, fluffed my hair, and stuck a silver necklace and earrings in my pocket to put on later. With my coat on and purse in hand, I was at the shops in fifteen minutes.

Pinky smiled from ear to ear when I walked through the door. She ran to meet me and threw her arms around me in a bear hug. “Wow, that was fast. Thanks for coming in and for wearing my color. I feel better already.”

“That's what friends are for.” I hadn't chosen Pinky's favorite color on purpose when I'd put on the sweater. Or maybe I had, after all. “I'll go turn on my shop lights, and that should dispel any scary thoughts you're having.”
If only it were that easy.
I crept into Curio Finds, trying to ignore the moving shadows Pinky had referred to. I knew they were from cars passing by outside, but shadows had taken on a whole new meaning since yesterday.

I turned on the lights but kept the shop door locked. We wouldn't be open for over two hours. Pinky had another few
customers to wait on, or I would have asked her to stand beside me as I checked out the place where Molly had died. I flipped on the bathroom light switch and took in every detail of the nondescript space. Toilet, sink, toilet paper holder, mirror, paper towel holder, and a picture of multicolored snow globes on the wall. Everything looked normal. I wondered how long it would take before it felt normal again.

When Pinky was free, I called for her to join me.

“Busy,” she called back.

“Doing what?”

“Just busy.”

I went into her shop, and when I saw she was standing there, not busy, I took her hand and led her to the bathroom door. She threw her free arm over her eyes. “I can't look.”

“Pinky, there is really nothing to see. That's what I needed to see, too; that Molly really isn't still there.”

She lowered her arm and opened her eyes. “Same old bathroom, but I'll never go in there again.”

“Remember what they say about never saying never?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The bell on Brew Ha-Ha's door dinged, and we returned to the coffee shop. In walked Assistant Chief Clinton Lonsbury, of all people. Officer Mark Weston came in seconds later. Mark's expression was almost as solemn as Clint's. “What?” I said.

Clint cleared his throat. “Just how much do you know about Emmy Anders?”

Pinky and I looked at each other and shrugged. “Like what? Where she lives? Where she goes to church?” I said.

“More like her history, her life before she moved to Brooks Landing,” Clint said.

“Before she moved here? Next to nothing,” I said.

“I have to go along with Cami. Emmy started coming in here more the last six months or so but didn't like to talk about herself. And you know me; I tried to get her to open up more.”

Mark nodded. “We have a pretty good idea of why she didn't say much.”

Pinky and I were drawn in by his words and took a step closer to the officers.

“Do you know where she moved here from?” Clint said.

“The metro area,” Pinky said.

I agreed. “Yes, it was Minneapolis.”

“About three years ago, a man named Howard Andersohn was poisoned. His wife was arrested, charged, tried, and acquitted by a jury of her peers for lack of conclusive evidence.”

“Why are you telling us this? Was it similar to what happened to Molly, or what?”

“There could be a common denominator,” Mark said.

“We did an abbreviated background investigation on Emmy Anders and came up with some troubling information.”

My heart started pounding. “No.”

“Emmy Anders's real name is Emaline Andersohn.”

Pinky clasped her hands and drew them to her chest. “I remember that name. But it can't be our Emmy.”

“Unfortunately, Emaline and Emmy are one and the same. Her husband was poisoned, and just about everyone thought she'd done it. The problem was, they could not prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt in a court of law.”

“I wasn't around here three years ago, I don't remember hearing about that case, and I have trouble believing Emmy would hurt anyone.”

“Whether you do or don't isn't the issue now, is it? Most
people back then did. I'd say she changed her name and moved to our fair city to escape those who believed she was guilty.” Clint looked at his watch. “We stopped by her house to talk to her before we came here, but it was dark. Do you have her scheduled to work today?”

“Actually, no. She told me last night that she had to leave early this morning to go stay with a friend who needed her.”

Pinky's mouth dropped open. “Cami—”

“Sorry, Pinky, I meant to tell you, but I was thinking about Molly, and it slipped my mind.”

Clint leaned closer. “Do you have her friend's name, her address?”

“No, I—”

“How about a phone number?”

“No, when I asked Emmy for her cell number she said she didn't have one and that she'd call me.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “Did it seem at all suspicious to you that she was leaving so abruptly?”

“A little, but I had no reason to think that—”

Clint turned to Mark. “It looks like our number one suspect has flown the coop.”

Pinky reached over and grabbed my hand. Hers was shaking as much as mine was.

Clint moved in close to me and held up a finger in front of my face. “If Emmy calls, find out where she is and then get ahold of me right away. Understand?”

“Yes. Sir.”

With that, Clint and Mark left without so much as a cup of coffee or even a good-bye.

Pinky swung her body around so we were face-to-face,
and she put both of her hands on my shoulders. “That man can be so intense at times.”

“Tell me about it. I was the one three inches away from him. The irises of his eyes got so dark they were nearly black.”

“Under different circumstances, I wouldn't mind one little bit if he looked into my eyes with that much passion. But seriously, this is scary stuff, and it sure doesn't look good for Emmy. I mean, she poisoned her husband and now Molly got poisoned when Emmy was with her. It seems like too much of a coincidence if you ask me.”

“First of all, Clint said there was not enough evidence against Emmy, and second, why would she kill Molly?”

“She got away with it once, so she did it again.”

“But why?”

“I don't know. Why do people do bad things?”

—

I
helped Pinky with a flurry of customers until after eight o'clock then headed into Curio Finds. “Hey, Pinky, since the sun is out now and you're feeling better, I'm going to turn off my overhead lights so people don't think the shop is open and wonder why the doors are locked. I'm going to use the time to get some bookwork and stocking done.”

“Hey, you're the one in there, not me. Go for it.” She went back to cleaning off her serving area.

I sat down at my checkout counter and looked around at the shelves filled with snow globes and other unique items. Yesterday, Molly and Emmy had been there, dusting and getting familiarized with the merchandise, and now they were both gone. Emmy certainly had not done herself any favors by
disappearing, as far as the police were concerned. It was understandable that her checkered past had raised red flags for them. Clint was right; I had known something was off when I saw the suitcase on Emmy's bed and she said she was leaving to help a friend. She'd acted strangely, and I thought it was because the police had just dropped the bad news bomb about Molly, and because Emmy was torn about leaving town. Now it seemed like there might be a different reason altogether.

I went into the storeroom, and the first thing I noticed was the small pile of trashy clothes Molly had taken off and left on the floor. The sight of them caught me off guard and stopped me in my tracks. I grabbed one of our sales bags, picked up the items, and dropped them in it. Dressing down had a very different meaning for Molly than it did for Pinky and me. I set the bag on a shelf and decided to ask the police what to do with it. Molly had the clothes for less than a day, so her husband wouldn't want them. He'd be more shocked than the rest of us if he'd known she had shown up for work in that outfit.

I heard a noise in the shop and left the storeroom to see what it was. A woman was standing at the checkout counter with an envelope in her gloved hand. She was wearing a quilted black jacket and a black stocking cap pulled down to cover all but her mouth, nose, eyes, chin, and a little of her cheeks. Sunglasses completed the disguise. It took me a second to realize who it was. “Senator, what are you doing?”

Her eyes were somewhat visible behind the glasses and opened wider than I'd ever seen them. Her jaw dropped, and the envelope fell out of her hand. “Camryn, why are you here?”

“That's a silly question.”

“Well, I mean your shop isn't open. And the morning
news said a woman died here yesterday, so I thought . . . I mean . . .”

“What are you getting at, and what possible reason brought you back after what you did here yesterday?”

“You saw me?” She pursed her lips.

“I sure did.”

She picked up the envelope. “I wanted to give you this.” And with that she dropped the envelope on the counter then scurried through the archway and out Brew Ha-Ha's door.

It took me a minute before I was able to utter a sound or move any part of my body. “Pinky!”

She came running in, holding a knife in her hand. “What is it?”

“Didn't you see who just ran out of my shop and out your door?”

“No, I didn't. I was washing dishes and had my back to the archway. When I heard the ding, I looked that way, but all I saw was a woman's back.”

“It was Ramona Zimmer.”

“
No.
What in the heck was she up to this time?”

I walked to the counter. “She delivered this.” I pointed at the envelope.

Pinky dropped her knife-wielding hand to her side and stepped in beside me. We both stared at the suspicious object. “Are you going to open it?” she asked.

“I don't know. I'm a little worried.”

“You're right. I would be, too. It might have, um, what is the name of that powdered poison that senators were getting in their letters a while back?”

“Anthrax, but some got letters laced with ricin, too.”

“That's right. And we did have a poisoning here yesterday.” She took a step back from the counter.

“Now you've really got me nervous.” I stepped away, too.

“I think you better call nine-one-one and ask them about it.”

“You think so? It might be better if we called the police department instead. Maybe Mark would check it out for us.”

“We can do that.”

“Do you want to call?”

“The letter is on your counter, left by your former employer for you.”

“Maybe it'd be safer to go into your shop and make the call.”

We looked like our sides were glued together as we turned and slowly walked into Pinky's shop. When we got to the counter, she stepped ahead, picked up her phone, and handed it to me. I shook my head. “My cell phone is in my pocket, and I have Mark on speed dial.”

“Take it out.”

“What?”

“Your cell phone. Cami, you are acting like a space cadet.”

“I can't help it. I just thought of something bad.”

“Like what?”

“I can't talk about it right now, so I'll tell you later when I can.”

“Cami, you're scaring me.”

“Pinky, I'm scaring
me.
”

“Do you want me to call Mark?”

“Yes. Please.”

Pinky broke the spell by hitting numbers on her cordless phone. “Mark, it's Pinky and Cami. Can you come down here,
as soon as possible, like right now? . . . You're never going to believe this, but Senator Ramona Zimmer was here and left an envelope on Cami's counter, and we want to make sure there's no ricin or anthrax in it. . . . Okay, thanks.” She pushed the off button. “He's on his way from the station.”

“Good.”

“So tell me your bad thought.”

“I have to process it awhile first.”

“You know I am way too snoopy and can't stand the suspense.”

“I do know that. And you know that I need to think about big things for a while before I can talk about them.”

Pinky lifted her hand up. “Truce?”