by Laura Durham
So no one but her assistant knew Marcie had sworn off sweets. That meant the killer assumed she'd at least try them since she was a self-proclaimed chocoholic. But how could he have known she'd eat the one poisoned truffle?
"Did you have a favorite type of chocolate?" I asked, then realized it sounded like I was interrogating her. I tried to soften my question. "I love the caramels, but hate the ones with nuts."
"And I love anything with nuts," Kate said.
"Me too," Cassandra said, reminding me she was still standing with us. "But the chocolates in the box Marcus had were all really unique flavors."
That sounded like Richard. He would have picked the most exotic chocolates. Now I remembered Marcie mentioning the interesting varieties.
Marcie nibbled her nail again. "I read the flavors but was afraid if I tried one, I’d eat them all. The box sat on my desk untouched from the time it was dropped off until I gave it to Marcus."
Meaning it would have been nearly impossible to add poison to the box after it was delivered unless someone came in after hours. Not good news for Richard.
"There was a card explaining each flavor," Cassandra said. "I got the lavender almond. I remember Marcus tried the one in the middle. It was the biggest, and I think it was cherry liquor. He said the booze had a kick."
I didn't point out that the kick he tasted was most likely the poison and not the booze.
Marcie drew in a sharp breath. "He ate the cherry one?"
Cassandra nodded. "He took first pick and said he loved cherries."
"That's my favorite too," Marcie said, her voice barely a whisper. "Marcus and I both loved cherry cordials. It was a joke between us. We gave each other cheap drugstore boxes of chocolate covered cherries at Christmas for years.”
"Who else knew this about you?" I asked.
"It wasn't a secret," she said. "We did it last year, and I'm pretty sure we kept the boxes on our desks this year."
Her colleague snapped her fingers "That's right. I remember Marcus eating those around the holidays. He gave me a few."
Marcie smiled for the first time. "They were pretty cheap to buy. It was a joke between us. We started exchanging them back when we couldn't afford better gifts and then kept doing it even when we could buy the fancier stuff."
Kate tilted her head at Marcie. "I thought Marcus was relatively new at Capital Weddings."
"What?" Marcie shook her head as if snapping herself out of a memory. "He was, but we knew each other from before. Marcus and I had actually gone to college together. I didn't advertise the fact because I thought it might look like nepotism, but he was in a tough spot after being fired by your friend."
I didn't point out that Marcus had been fired for sending proposals to clients on Richard's behalf laden with profanity. I also didn't point out he'd been lucky firing was the only thing Richard had done to him.
"So you gave him a job as your assistant," Kate said, prodding the woman to keep talking.
"It seemed like the perfect solution." Marcie didn't look at us as the words seemed to spill out of her. "He needed a job. I needed an assistant. We knew everything about each other, so I wouldn't have to worry about training someone. It was ideal."
"Until yesterday," Kate said.
"I'll never forgive myself." Marcie put her hands to her cheeks. "If Marcus hadn't been working for me, he never would have eaten the poisoned chocolate. It's my fault he's dead."
Kate put an arm around her shoulders. "It was just bad luck he ate the cherry one. If Marcus hadn't eaten it, another of your colleagues would be dead now."
Cassandra glanced around the cubbies, and I wondered if she was making a mental guess at who might have been dead if not for Marcus. Her eyes widened as she looked over my shoulder.
Kate’s mouth dropped open as she must have noticed the same thing. "This isn't good."
I turned and came face to chest with my boyfriend. I took a step back as I noticed him glowering down at me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
Two uniformed officers flanked him, but I didn't recognize either.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," he said. "Do I even want to know what you and Tonto are doing here?"
I saw Kate open her mouth to say something about the Tonto comment, and I shot her a look. She pressed her lips together but didn't look happy about it. Kate did not appreciate sidekick cracks.
"We were just checking up on our friend Marcie," I said, trying to summon my most righteous tone of voice and putting special emphasis on the word 'friend.' "What are you and your buddies doing here?"
"Police business," he said. "We're giving your 'friend' police protection since we think she was the intended victim."
Marcie looked at the pair of officers. "Is this necessary?"
"We think so," Reese said. "The killer's attempt failed, so I wouldn't be surprised if they tried again. And the next time they might not be so subtle, and you might not be lucky."
"No one in this office is ever eating chocolate again," Cassandra said, her eyes still wide.
"I doubt the killer will use poison again since it didn't work," Reese said, "but I could be wrong about that, so it goes without saying you should all be on alert."
Marcie cast her eyes back at her office. "I'm going to throw out every Valentine's Day gift I received."
"You got more food gifts?" Reese asked.
"Some heart-shaped cookies from another caterer, a box of artisanal honeys from a photographer, a mini cake from a baker," she said. "They arrived yesterday and this morning. I haven't touched any of them."
"She's on a diet," Kate said.
Reese nodded to one of the officers next to him. "We'll take all of that with us and test it. Please let me know if you receive anything else."
"I will, Detective." Marcie resumed chewing what was left of her thumbnail.
Reese gave a curt nod. "I'm going to leave Officer Carr with you." He turned to me. "And I'm going to walk with you out of the building."
I didn't argue. I figured we’d do enough of that once we got home.
12
Reese opened the door to our apartment and held it so I could walk inside. The drive home had been quiet, but not a lovely companionable silence. I could tell from the way he'd faced forward without looking over at me once that he was steamed. I suppose I didn't blame him for assuming I'd gone behind his back and started investigating the murder on my own. Mostly because it was true, although I had excellent reasons.
"It's not what you think," I began, then stopped myself. That wasn't entirely true. It probably was what he thought because by this point, Reese knew about my compulsion to solve things. "Okay, it's a little bit what you think but not why you think."
Reese rubbed a hand over his face, then sat down in the overstuffed chair across from the couch and let out a long breath. "Enlighten me, babe."
I took a seat on the couch and tried not to get distracted by the flutter I felt every time he called me babe. "I didn't have any plans to question Marcie when the day started. Then Richard called and said he was being questioned again because the chocolatier heard him say he'd rather give Marcie hemlock. Since he'd been talking to me on the phone when he said that, I felt responsible." I took a quick breath. "Actually this whole thing is my fault since Richard didn't have any plan to give a box of chocolates to Marcie until I suggested it."
"Bringing in Richard wasn't my idea," Reese said. "You know I wouldn't knowingly do anything to make him more hysterical than he is on a regular basis."
"Richard told me it was mostly Hobbes, but he was still upset. We were just talking about who might want to kill Marcie since we know it wasn't Richard. Fern suggested if we wanted to find out the real dirt on her and any enemies she might have, we should talk to her hairdresser."
Reese leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Is this the part where Fern gave you an impromptu haircut?"
I touched a hand to my hair. I'd almost forgotten I'd h
ad it done. "Kind of. He dragged me back to his salon, and that's when he tracked down Marcie's stylist and discovered she'd been acting jumpy lately, as if she was afraid of something."
Reese nodded. "So you thought you should question Marcie yourselves?"
"I did leave you a message," I said. "But Kate thought it would be a shame to go home without anyone seeing my new haircut."
"I know you don't think I'm going to believe you did all this to show off your hair. I'd buy it if we were talking about Kate or even Richard."
I flopped back on the couch. "Fine. I did it to help clear my best friend. And I didn't think it would hurt to make as many inroads with the city's top wedding magazine as possible."
"Both altruistic and mercenary." Reese got up and joined me on the couch. "I'm impressed. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist helping Richard, but I didn't guess you'd make it a PR mission at the same time."
"I may have been spending too much time with Richard."
He put an arm around my shoulders. "That's a given, babe."
I leaned into him, relieved he wanted to hug me and not strangle me. "You knew I'd meddle in your case even though you made me promise not to?"
"You forget I know you, Annabelle." He kissed the top of my head. "And you've been poking around in my investigations for years. At this point, I just add it into my workflow." He mimed running a finger down a list. "Question suspects. Remind Annabelle not to meddle in the case. Get ME report. Reprimand Annabelle for meddling in the case."
I elbowed him in the ribs. "Very funny. You have to admit some of the things I've discovered have been helpful. And today I discovered the reason the killer put the poison in one truffle and not the others. The cherry cordial was Marcie's favorite flavor. Anyone who knew her well would have known that. And did you know Marcie’s office lock was broken the other day? Anyone could have gotten into her office and tampered with the truffles, which makes Richard an even less likely suspect."
Reese raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his side. "I would say good work, but I don't want to encourage you. Also, the witnesses at the magazine all insist the box of chocolates sat on Marcie's desk from the time it was delivered until she gave it to her assistant."
"But they weren't there 24-7. Someone could have snuck in at night."
He raised my face so I met his eyes. "I promise to follow up on this if you'll leave the questioning of witnesses to me."
My pulse quickened as he gazed at me. "I promise as long as you promise to stop whipping Richard into a neurotic frenzy."
"Deal." He brought his lips down to mine and kissed me. When he pulled away, he ran a hand through my hair. "You can tell Kate your hair definitely wasn't wasted."
"You like it?" I asked.
"Mmmm-hmmm." He kissed me again. "I love when you wear your hair down."
A sharp series of raps made us both pull away, though it took me a moment to realize the sound came from my door. More specifically, from someone on the other side of it. Someone eager to talk to one of us.
"We could pretend we're not home," he whispered to me.
"Almost everyone who could be on the other side of that door has a key. If we don't answer, they may walk right in."
Reese muttered to himself about a locksmith and deadbolts while I stood to answer the door. Before the door was fully open, Leatrice bounded in with her arms waving.
"I can't believe what I just heard." She planted her hands on her hips and swiveled her head between Reese and me. "All this time and neither of you told me? I had to read about it in the paper. Of course, I should have heard it on my police scanner. I'm going to have to cut my shower time down even further."
Leatrice wore a head to toe red sweater jumpsuit I assumed was one of her vintage outfits, although I'd never seen it before. I reminded myself that since she was so short, she could have purchased it in the children's department. It would explain the pink heart patch pockets. She held what looked like a box of doughnuts in one hand.
"What did you read in the paper?" I asked, closing the door since it was clear her visit wasn't going to be a brief one.
"About the murder, of course." She wagged a finger at us and thrust the box at me. "Another Valentine's delivery for you."
I looked down at the box of six doughnuts from District Doughnuts and their pink and red toppings to fit the holiday. We'd used the local doughnut shop for favors for a few weddings, and I knew their creations were delicious. I also knew the last thing I needed this week was more sugar. I passed them to my boyfriend. "Don't cops love doughnuts?"
He started to give me a dirty look, then glanced at the doughnut box's clear lid. "Why yes we do." He lifted a pink glazed out of the box and returned his attention to Leatrice. "You know I'm not at liberty to discuss police matters."
Leatrice beamed at Reese. "I'm not upset at you, dear." She slid her eyes to me. "But Annabelle has always let me in on her little investigations. Once I took charge of an entire stakeout. Don't you remember?"
I felt my face flush. I'd rather Reese not remember the time I staked out a suspect and then roped my octogenarian neighbor into the scheme. "It's been crazy around here what with the upcoming wedding and all. The murder just slipped my mind."
"I can't see how, but I suppose you have been busy." She gave Reese a knowing look. "And Valentine's Day is coming up too. I'm sure you've both been busy making plans."
My cheeks got even warmer, and I avoided looking at Reese. "With my client's Valentine's Day themed wedding, I think I'm going to be over the holiday before it even arrives."
"Really?" Reese asked through a mouthful of doughnut.
I looked over at him, hoping my cheeks weren't as pink as they felt. "I was joking about that, but we don't have to . . . I mean . . ."
"I told Annabelle you two kids are welcome to join us for Valentine's Day. Sidney Allen is so romantic, you know."
Now it was Reese's turn to stammer something unintelligible, and this time it wasn't because of the doughnut.
"I already said we'd never dream of imposing on their plans,” I said, catching Reese's eye until he nodded along.
"You know what they say," Reese said as he wiped a bit of pink icing from the corner of his mouth. "Four’s a crowd."
"Sounds like something Kate would say," I muttered.
"Since I know about the murder, why don't you tell me about our suspects?" Leatrice perched on the arm of the couch.
I let out a nervous laugh and glanced at Reese. "I promised I wouldn't get involved in the investigation this time."
Leatrice stared at me for a moment. "And you meant it?"
Reese stifled a laugh behind his hand and stood up. "Why don't I go get changed while you two ladies discuss the case? What I can't hear won't upset me."
Leatrice craned her neck to watch him walk down the hallway to our bedroom. "I have to say, Annabelle. He really is a keeper. So considerate. You don't find that with most young men these days." When the bedroom door closed, she produced a small notebook and golf pencil from one of her patch pockets. "So, who are our suspects?"
"To be honest," I said, “we haven't gotten very far. The person who died wasn't the intended victim, and we don't know a ton about the woman for whom the poisoned chocolate was meant."
"Did she work at the same place the victim did? Capital Weddings magazine?"
"She did, so our first thought was a disgruntled wedding vendor who was removed from the magazine's “Best Of" list or someone who never got on."
Leatrice gave a low whistle. "You think someone committed murder over a magazine list?"
When she put it like that, it did seem a bit ridiculous. "It's a pretty important list if you work in weddings in DC. It can make or break your career."
"The same list Richard was so upset about being left off of over the holidays?" Leatrice asked.
"Yes, but he was hardly the only person who was upset. Someone sent the editor a bunch of dead roses."
Leatrice scribbled something on her pad
. "I thought weddings were supposed to be about love and happiness."
"Then it's been a long time since you've planned one," I said. "Weddings are a billion dollar business and society weddings are even more cutthroat. I wouldn't put much past some of my colleagues."
"Including murder?" Leatrice looked up from writing.
I thought about some of my fellow wedding planners. "There are some planners who'd poison their own grandmothers to get on the list."
"Maybe we should start with those then?" Leatrice licked the tip of her pencil. "Which of your colleagues are the most homicidal?"
I ran through a mental Rolodex as I thought of the people I worked with. Most were creative and cool and easygoing, but the industry certainly had its share of prima donnas and troublemakers. Some people were both.
"Why didn't I think about it earlier?" I sank back onto the couch cushion. "Richard even said he saw her when he was at the Capital Weddings office delivering the chocolates."
Leatrice leaned forward and almost slipped off the arm of the couch. "Who?"
"Brianna. She was desperate to get on the list and didn't. Plus, she hates Richard and would love nothing more than to cause him, and Wedding Belles, trouble. She was involved with the crazy planner who tried to ruin us a few months ago, and I was convinced she gave the woman more than a gentle nudge."
"You think she set Richard up to take the fall?"
"It would be her style," I said. "And if she was there when he dropped off the chocolates, she had opportunity."
"Did you say her name was Brianna?" Leatrice asked. "I think she was one of the people quoted in the article."
"What article?"
Leatrice waved her pencil at me. "The one I saw before I came up here. The one that goes into detail about Richard as the prime suspect in the murder. I'm pretty sure they quoted a woman named Brianna talking about him having a history of clients being poisoned."
Oh boy.
13
"Do you think Richard has seen the article?" Kate asked the next morning after I explained Leatrice's visit to her.
We were driving out to Ah-mazing Ah-melia's house in one of the nearby upscale suburbs of DC. To be fair, it was her parents' home, but she'd moved back in with them for the duration of the wedding planning. Luckily, traffic wasn't too heavy heading out of the city, because we'd purposely scheduled our visit to miss the crush of rush hour.
