01 - Playing with Poison (16 page)

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Authors: Cindy Blackburn

BOOK: 01 - Playing with Poison
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The
Clarence Courier’s
web site proved more useful. I found her wedding announcement from earlier that year, but alas, no photo was attached. She and Ian must have decided a picture for his second, and her third, wedding might not be appropriate. But the announcement did remind me of Amanda’s name before she had become a Crawcheck.

I searched further back and, lo and behold, found what I was looking for in a society page from five years earlier. It was grainy, it was in black and white, and she was wearing a big hat that hid at least half her face, but it was indeed a photograph of Amanda. She had attended a function at the Clarence Garden Club.

The Garden Club? I pictured the Crawcheck’s new and definitely not improved front lawn, shook my head, and hit the print key.

Chapter 16

The usual suspects were in their usual places when Karen and I arrived at The Stone Fountain that night. While Bruce Springsteen reminded everyone where he was born, Matthew and Bryce concocted Long Island Iced Teas, Gina delivered Long Island Iced Teas, and Evan McCloy and the Dibbles drank Long Island Iced Teas. Meanwhile, over at the pool table, the gang waited patiently as Bernie and Camille Allen argued over who would shoot next.

Karen and I took our seats and Bryce pulled out the Corona and Korbel.

“Where’s Candy?” he asked as he poured Karen’s beer.

“You mean you haven’t heard?” she said. “Candy’s been arrested.”

“What? What for?”

“Like, duh.” Karen reached for her glass. “For murder.”

“For accessory to murder,” I clarified. “But surely Jimmy Beak has reported this by now?”

Bryce shook his head and made confused and bewildered faces while Karen explained that no, Jimmy had not reported the latest. “He showed that scene outside your door last night, Jess. When he had his panties in a bind about your bank account? But then he went right back to the school board scandal. No mention of Kiddo whatsoever.”

I joined Bryce in bewilderment. “You mean Rye hasn’t informed the media yet?”

“I’m guessing not,” she said.

“But she’s innocent.” That was Bryce. “I mean, she’s gotta be innocent, doesn’t she?”

“Not according to Captain Rye.” I waved him toward the Korbel bottle he had yet to open. “He’s convinced she and Carter O’Connell killed Stanley.”

“Who’s Carter?” my neighbors asked together.

“Candy’s new boyfriend.”

“What?” Again, they spoke in unison.

“Perhaps I should say old boyfriend,” I continued as Bryce finally handed me a drink. “They were high school sweethearts.”

Labeling the delinquent duo high school sweethearts may have been a bit misleading, but did everyone really need to know the sordid details of Candy’s past?

Unfortunately, I did know the details. After looking into Amanda in the
Clarence Courier’s
web site, I had moved on to my neighbors.

A ten-year-old article confirmed what Rye had told me about Candy. It outlined the juvenile court’s ruling against her and Carter and offered an extensive summary of the kinds of trouble they had gotten into—truancy, underage drinking, a couple of DUI’s, disturbing the peace, and grand theft auto.

Grand theft auto. I whimpered slightly and decided to focus on the present. “Carter’s moved back to town,” I explained. “He and Candy have gotten back together.”

“But she was engaged to Stanley,” Bryce argued.

“Was,” I repeated. “Believe it or not, she broke up with Stanley Saturday night. Right before he showed up here.”

“So let me get this straight,” Karen said. “Kiddo had two boyfriends at once?”

“When she was already engaged?” Bryce added.

I shrugged. “You did tell me Candy’s love life is hard to keep track of.”

“I guess I wasn’t kidding.” He knocked on the bar and wandered off to tend to some other customers.

I watched him create another batch of Long Island Iced Teas and recollected my research efforts in the Clarence newspaper’s web site. I had found no mention of Bryce Dixon. This made sense, considering he had only moved to town a few years earlier, but it was still a bit disappointing.

I had better luck with Karen Sembler. I ran into her name several times since she was on the Board of Directors for our local Habitat for Humanity and helped build houses for the cause. The
Clarence Courier
had even provided a picture of her, clad in her tool belt, and hammering away on a small, but I am sure, well built roof of a Habitat house.

“Two boyfriends at once,” she was mumbling as I glanced over.

“But that’s not the issue, Karen. The murder is. According to Rye, Candy tricked Stanley into going to her apartment the other night. And supposedly Carter was lying in wait and somehow convinced the poor guy to consume poison.”

“But why, Jess?”

“Money. Candy’s the sole beneficiary of Stanley’s will. And Carter’s a PhD chemist. Convenient, no?”

“Oh boy.”

“At least her lawyer comes highly recommended.” I tried sounding optimistic. “He’s working on getting her out on bail, and then we can get her side of the story.”

“Two boyfriends.” Karen twisted her beer in her hands. “Did you ever have that kind of luck when you were young?” She looked up to study me. “You must have been gorgeous—even prettier than Candy.”

I harkened back to the good old days and sighed. “I never had Candy’s charm,” I said. “And Lord knows I’ve never been sweet. Guys fall for sweet.”

“It must be nice.”

I tilted my head. “So, like, you’ve never dated two men at once?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve seldom dated one guy at once. In case you haven’t noticed, girlfriend, I’m not exactly a beauty queen.”

I quickly, and sincerely, disagreed. Okay, so Karen doesn’t exactly dress like a beauty queen, and her mop of auburn curls might look like she cuts her hair with a chainsaw. But somehow it works. On Karen anyway.

“You have great skin, and great cheekbones,” I insisted. I glanced at the top of her head. “And fascinating hair.”

“Great cheekbones?” She laughed at me. “I’m guessing guys don’t much care about cheekbones.”

“Well they should.”

I watched my neighbor shake her head and recollected Rye’s ridiculous theory about my own motivation for killing Stanley. Could Karen be the older woman who was jealous of Candy’s love life?

“Speaking of threesomes,” Karen was saying. “You should have seen that four-poster bed when I got done with it. The thing was big enough to throw a small orgy on. We barely got it onto the truck this morning.”

She went back to sipping her beer and I dismissed my silly suspicions. If Karen Sembler were going to kill someone, she would do it with a power tool.

***

Bryce returned and asked what he could do to help Candy. “There must be something?” He rocked back and forth and looked at me for an answer.

Lo and behold, I actually had one. I pulled out the picture of Amanda I was harboring in the back pocket of my slacks and handed it to him.

“Have you ever seen this woman in here?” I asked. “Think hard, okay?”

Karen stretched herself over the bar to take a peek, and the two of them studied the photograph.

“I must need glasses,” she said as she sat back down. “That woman could be sitting next to me right now, and I wouldn’t recognize her from that.”

I admitted the picture was a bit blurry, and the dim lighting of the bar wasn’t helping any.

“How about you?” I asked Bryce. “I think she might have been in here Saturday.”

He continued squinting at the picture. “Who is this?”

I avoided that pesky question, and asked Bryce to show the photo to the regulars. “Just see if anyone recognizes her. Can you do that?”

He jerked his head in Matthew’s direction. “I’ll try, Jessie. But I hope you aren’t expecting much.”

I assured him whatever he could do without jeopardizing his job would be appreciated.

“What about me?” Karen asked. “What can I do?”

I looked around and spotted Evan McCloy. He didn’t seem particularly busy, and he frowned only slightly when I caught his eye.

“Evan.” I hit the bar with the palm of my hand. “Get him over here, Bryce.”

Bless his heart, Bryce bounced off on his appointed mission, and I quickly told Karen what I knew about Stanley’s colleague.

“He’s already lost his patience with me,” I said. “But use your charm and get him to tell you all the dirt about Stanley’s job. Can you do that?”

Karen finished her beer in one gulp and tossed her hair back, Alexis Wynsome style. “Oh sure,” she said. “I’ll just flash these cheekbones at him and the guy will be putty in my hands.”

She pointed at me. “Meanwhile, what will you be doing?”

I finished my glass in one gulp also and motioned toward the Dibbles. “I’ll tackle Audrey again. She promised to get back to me after she consulted with her astrologer.”

“You are one brave woman, Jessica Hewitt.”

I stood up. “Tell Bryce to send over some fresh drinks when he gets a chance.”

***

“So much news!” Audrey exclaimed as I approached. She removed a canvas sack of who- knows-what from the spot next to her and patted the seat.

“Things have gotten a lot more serious,” I said as I slipped into the booth. “Candy’s been arrested.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t her,” Audrey said. She plopped the bag onto the table, and I heard a loud thunk. “Ezekiel said so. I had my consultation this afternoon.”

Gina delivered a round of drinks, and as Jackson grunted a thank you in my direction, Audrey reported the details of her inquiry.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t have Stanley’s time of birth,” she said. “So poor Ezekiel was at a severe disadvantage, as you can imagine. But even so, he was real helpful.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, yes!” Audrey clapped her hands and her jewelry jingled accordingly. “I told him all about Stanley, and Ezekiel consulted his library and astrological charts to see what he could discover. It took us hours of hard work, but this was important, right? It was worth the extra money?”

She appealed to me with her bulbous eyes. I turned away and watched Jackson gulp down his drink.

“What did Ezekiel discover?” I forced myself to ask.

“Jealousy,” Audrey declared. She leaned in with another meaningful look. “Someone was jealous of that boy, Jessie.”

“Jealous of what? His money, his job, his girlfriend?”

“Oh, now Ezekiel couldn’t tell me that. We didn’t have Stanley’s time of birth, remember?”

“But did Ezekiel mention exactly who was jealous of Stanley?”

“Jessie!” Audrey scolded. “I just told you—Ezekiel didn’t have all the vital facts. The poor man did the best he could, under the circumstances.”

I sighed dramatically and tried again. “What about Stanley’s job?” I asked. “Did Ezekiel have any insights there? I’m still trying to figure out who invested with him.”

Jackson harrumphed. “Other than you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes,” I said. “Other than me.” Perhaps I should have set the record straight on that issue, but the Dibbles weren’t exactly sticklers for accuracy, so why bother?

Audrey had suddenly turned quiet, but Jackson became almost verbose. “We didn’t invest with him,” he said proudly. “Mr. Astrology ordered us to, but I refused. Tell her about it, Audrey.” He removed his hand from his glass long enough to wave at his wife, and Audrey reluctantly admitted to getting some bad advice from the legendary Ezekiel.

“He told me to go ahead and make those investments Stan was so keen on,” she said. “But Jackson wouldn’t let me. And after hearing what’s happened to you, Jessie? I guess I’m glad we didn’t do it.”

I mumbled something about Jimmy Beak’s exaggerations as Audrey dropped the mysterious canvas bag onto my lap.

“Ouch!” I looked down. “What is this?”

“Crystals,” Jackson answered. “My brilliant wife’s decided to give you a bunch of stupid rocks. Aren’t you gonna thank her?”

I peeked into the bag, and sure enough, it was filled with rocks—at least a dozen of them. They weren’t exactly boulders, but they were significantly larger than any of the baubles hanging from Audrey’s neck, wrists, and earlobes.

“Umm,” I managed. “Thank you, Audrey.”

She smiled broadly and began rummaging around in her purse. “After seeing all those TV reports on you and your troubles, I just knew your chakras needed a boost, Jessie. I packed that with only the bare basics, mind you. But place those crystals around your house and I guarantee your chakras will be back in balance in no time.”

She pulled out a rather lengthy handwritten note and handed it to me. “Follow these instructions carefully and your chakras will thank you for it. You wait and see.”

I placed Audrey’s notes inside the canvas sack. I still had no clue what my chakras were, but perhaps the notes would enlighten me.

“Now then, what about your couch?”

I lifted my head out of the sack and registered the look of grave concern on Audrey’s face.

“You haven’t allowed it back in your home, have you?”

“No,” I answered and watched helplessly as Jackson beckoned to Bryce for another round. A quick tabulation of my bar tab for the month was causing me far more anxiety than my demon-possessed couch. I informed Audrey that the police still hadn’t returned the sofa.

“Thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “You mustn’t allow all that bad karma back into your home or your chakras may never recover. Promise me?”

I was deciding how to answer when I sensed a tall, angry presence hovering at my right. Captain Rye, I presumed, and looked up to verify.

“You got a minute?” he said and stepped away without waiting for a response.

I whispered something about Captain Rye’s excess of angry chakras to Audrey, hefted the canvas bag over my left shoulder, and excused myself from the Dibbles.

***

“What are you doing here?” Rye asked as I approached.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, too,” I said. “What time was Stanley Sweetzer born?”

“Excuse me?”

“His birthday, Captain. Do you happen to know what time of day Stanley was born?”

Rye glanced up at the ceiling. “Call me lax, but I haven’t come across that vital piece of information.”

I shrugged my right shoulder. “Never mind,” I said. “It probably doesn’t matter.”

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