by Ali Franklin
Emma’s face hardened. “We didn’t decide to change to tenderloin, Veronica. I’ve already ordered the sirloin and built the menu around that. Everything for the dinner and dance is finalized, including the venue and the DJ. We’ve almost sold out of tickets already, so if you know anyone who hasn’t bought theirs yet, tell them they’d better hurry.”
Ryan jumped in before Veronica could protest. “That sounds great, Emma. I love sirloin, and I can’t wait to see what you do with it. I’m looking forward to the dinner-dance this year.”
Ryan’s comment didn’t do the trick. Veronica slammed her tablet on the side table. “Emma, I distinctly told you to switch to tenderloin, and I won’t have you going against my wishes. I’m the chairman of this event and I’ve given you an order.”
Before Emma could react, Danielle jumped out of her chair. She glared at Veronica. “You’re such a prima donna. You can’t just sit there and tell everyone what to do. We’re grown adults who’ve volunteered to manage these events for the good of Haverwood County. Stop ‘changing your mind’ or ‘thinking of new angles.’” Danielle made air-quotes with her fingers. “We’ve poured our hearts into these events. Do whatever you have to do as chair, but stop bossing us around.”
Ryan and Emma both leaned forward in support. Father Paul placed his palms on his thighs, ready to go into mediation mode.
Veronica’s back stiffened. In a controlled voice, she said, “I was selected to run this event because I'm a successful businesswoman who knows how to get things done. You all are here to help me run this event.”
Ryan tried to insert some calm. “Veronica, Danielle, let’s take a breath. We all want the same thing here.”
Chase stepped forward. “Darling, I know you feel passionate about your event. And you’re doing a marvelous job of managing everything.”
“People expect a certain level of…sophistication when I'm involved in an event,” said Veronica. She turned to face Emma. “I want the best. I want tenderloin.”
Danielle took two steps, stopping when she was nose-to-nose with her hostess. “One of these days, Veronica, someone is going to put you in your place. I just hope I’m there to see it.”
Suddenly, everyone was standing. Ryan pulled Danielle away from Veronica. Father Paul and Chase stepped between Veronica and the other three women.
“Ladies,” said the priest, “that’s enough. Please take your seats. Let’s remember why we’re all here.” The men stood firm until Danielle took a deep breath and the women resumed their seats.
Chase moved beside Veronica’s chair and placed a hand on her shoulder. Father Paul remained standing and spread his arms wide.
“It’s obvious we have some disagreements here, but we all want the same thing. We may have different communication styles and different working styles, but each one of us is capable of managing our events, or managing the overall event,” he bowed slightly toward Veronica, “in a way that meets our goal. We’re doing this for the community. Let’s agree to put aside our differences until we’ve done this service for the organizations that deserve our help.”
Ryan, Emma, and Danielle each let out a breath.
Father Paul looked at Ryan. “What you say, Dean McCabe?” Ryan nodded.
“Emma?”
“I promise.”
“Veronica?”
The chairwoman nodded.
“How about you, Danielle?” he asked.
Danielle looked at Veronica with daggers in her eyes. Without looking at Father Paul, she said, “Okay. Until it’s over.”
Father Paul looked again from person to person, waiting to see if anyone would break the truce. After a full minute, he clasped his hands together and said, “I don’t know about you all, but the smell of that chili has my mouth watering. Why don’t we break bread together and start behaving like friends?”
Everyone looked at Danielle. Danielle looked at Veronica. After a heartbeat, Veronica stood and led the little group to the kitchen.
To everyone’s surprise, all five chili dishes were wonderful (Veronica and Chase had offered a single pot, which everyone assumed had been made by Maria). Chase and Father Paul dished up a little bowl of each recipe for each attendee, and they all enjoyed tasting the different varieties.
The committee took a quick vote, with the only rule being that you couldn’t vote for your own dish. Ryan’s dish tied with Father Paul’s for first place. She couldn’t wait to tell Nicki.
Chase made sure everyone had beer to go with their chili, and by the time the meal was over, the committee members were behaving like friends again. Danielle and Veronica made up and promised not to fight. And Veronica (with just a modicum of pressure from the rest of the committee) told Emma it was fine if she served sirloin at the dinner.
They raised their beers and toasted to the success of the FLH. They all hoped it would be the most successful one yet. At nine o’clock, Ryan remembered it was a school night and said her goodbyes. She begged Veronica and Chase to keep the leftover chili, as she’d had her fill for a while. They agreed, and Ryan took her freshly-scrubbed slow cooker and went home.
As she pulled away from Veronica and Chase’s home, she marveled at how well they’d managed to diffuse the tension that evening. The FLH was going to be a success.
Chapter 7
Tuesday morning dawned cold and with a light rain, reminding Ryan that spring hadn’t yet arrived. She’d slept fitfully, which might have been due to the copious amounts of chili she’d eaten the night before. She decided to try to settle her system with a run.
She set out on her usual three-mile route, letting the rain wash away any remaining negative feelings about Veronica or her handling of the FLH. She replayed the turbulent weekend in her mind. Things had come to a head with Veronica and the committee, but the upshot was that everyone promised to get along for the sake of the FLH. By the end of the meeting at Veronica and Chase’s house, the committee members had been singing the Haverwood fight song together and toasting each other’s work on their events. Veronica had even proposed the first toast to Emma.
Ryan arrived back at home and let herself in through the back door, leaving her wet shoes and jacket on the covered porch. She had only a couple of details to finalize for the cookoff and she couldn’t do them until next week. That left her with plenty of time for her duties as dean as well as her rehearsals for the musical.
She loved the spring semester. Things were always so busy that it was over before she knew it. But this semester was extra-special because the musical was Teddy’s.
Ryan always took her responsibility as musical director seriously, but she was doubly committed to this year’s show. Fortunately, Teddy was a gifted musician and storyteller. The show was absolutely delightful. Ryan reminded herself to contact some of her friends in New York to see if they could convince any Broadway or off-Broadway producers or directors to see the show.
Ryan jumped in the shower while mentally making a list of people she knew were still in New York and connected with the business. Her phone rang while she was under the spray, but she ignored it until she was out and mostly dressed. She padded into the bedroom to retrieve the phone from her dresser. The blinking name on the screen was Jack Prieto.
Jack was a detective with the Haverwood County Sheriff’s Department. Ryan had been in a brief relationship with his partner, Maddie Trainor, the previous summer. Maddie left to take a temporary assignment with the FBI shortly after that, and Maddie and Ryan broke up at the beginning of the fall semester.
Jack and Ryan had an interesting relationship. While Jack was officially responsible for investigating homicides and Haverwood County, Ryan had twice found herself investigating them in an unofficial capacity. Jack didn’t mind that Ryan was interested in his cases, but he hated that she tended to put herself in dangerous situations.
She frowned at the phone, hoping Jack wasn’t calling about a problem on campus. She pushed the “call back” button and he answered on the second ring.
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“Ryan, thanks for calling. There’s something you need to know about.”
“Is it a student?”
“No. It’s Veronica Arrington,” he said. “She’s dead.”
Chapter 8
Ryan sat on the edge of her bed. “What?”
“The housekeeper found her this morning when she got up to make breakfast.”
“What happened?”
“The coroner just left with the body, so we’ll have to wait on the official results.”
“Come on, Jack,” said Ryan. “Give me your best guess.”
“I understand you were at the house last night for a meeting?”
“Yes, but she was fine when we all left.” She tried again. “Did the coroner give you time of death?”
“Sometime between ten p.m. and midnight.” He took a breath. “Ryan, can you come down to the station today give me a statement?”
“Of course. But you haven’t answered my question. What do you think was the cause of death?”
Jack knew she’d find out soon enough. “You didn’t hear this from me and it’s not official, but I’d go with a heart attack or poison.”
Ryan spent the rest of the morning in a thick haze. She went to the office and told Helen about Jack’s call. Then she replayed the roller-coaster committee meeting the previous night.
“You think they’re connected,” said Helen. It wasn’t a question.
“It’s the timing,” said Ryan. “If it was a heart attack, then it was just her time to go. But if somebody poisoned her?”
“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but that woman made herself a few enemies over the years.”
Ryan agreed. In fact, she didn’t know anyone besides Chase who would have come to Veronica’s defense in a pinch. But that didn’t mean anyone had the right to kill her.
Ryan tried to concentrate on her work, but Veronica kept sneaking back into her thoughts. If it turned out the committee chairperson had been poisoned, Jack was going to have his hands full with suspects. Ryan would even make the list.
With a jolt, she revisited that last thought. She put her computer to sleep, grabbed her phone and keys, and walked out to Helen’s desk.
“I’m going to go to Jack’s office to give him my statement about last night. Maybe he’ll give me some more information.”
“Good luck,” said her assistant.
Ryan drove to the Sheriff’s station and greeted the duty sergeant at the front desk. He told her Jack was in a meeting and asked her to wait. Ten minutes later, a middle-aged man with a detective’s badge on his belt came out and said something to the duty sergeant. The sergeant nodded toward Ryan and the man turned and held out his hand.
“Ms. McCabe, thanks for coming to the station. I’m detective Gus Lipinski. Jack Prieto’s new partner.”
Ryan smiled and stood. “I didn’t realize he’d gotten a new partner. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective.”
“Please call me Gus.” He led her toward the door to the detectives’ bullpen. “Jack’s told me a lot of great things about you.”
They walked into the large space where the detectives did their work. Men and women sat at desks, talking on their phones or scribbling in notebooks. Doors on one side of the room led to small and medium-sized interview rooms.
Gus walked Ryan to the desk next to Jack’s. He offered her the chair that stood beside it.
“Jack should be done with his meeting soon. I’d take your statement myself, but I’m sure there are some specific things he wants to ask you.”
Gus opened a folder and read over his notes. Ryan looked at him. He looked like he was in his early fifties, with dark hair beginning to gray at the temples. He was short and stocky, like a high school or college athlete who hasn’t exercised in a few years. He had big brown eyes with the kind of gorgeous lashes women would kill for.
Gus didn’t have any pictures on his desk, nor a ring on his finger. Next to his phone sat a brass paperweight in the shape of a rowing scull with eight rowers and a coxswain. Next to that was a silver letter opener with a stylized dog on the handle.
“Can you tell me anything about what happened?” she asked. “Jack told me he wasn’t sure about the cause of death.”
The detective cocked his head. “Why are you interested in the cause of death?”
“I was Veronica’s—” She stopped, not quite knowing how to end that sentence.
He picked up a pen. “I understand you were at the meeting at the Arrington house last night. You were a part of the committee for this community event?”
Ryan squirmed under his gaze. I thought you wanted to wait for Jack, she thought.
“I’m in charge of the chili cookoff.”
Gus was looking down at his notebook while he wrote, but Ryan saw his eyebrows go up. Without looking at her, he said, “Chili cookoff, huh?”
“We each brought our chili to the meeting last night, as a preview before the event.”
“We noticed the containers in the refrigerator.”
Ryan imagined the detectives looking in the fridge. Did that mean they thought it was poison?
She didn’t have more time to think about it, as the door to one of the interview rooms opened and Jack emerged with Emma Sullivan. Ryan walked over to hug Emma.
“This is terrible,” Ryan said. Emma looked sick but didn’t respond.
Jack gave Ryan a sad smile. He walked Emma toward the door and she left. Then Jack motioned for Ryan and Gus to follow him to an interview room. Inside, Jack gave Ryan a quick hug.
Ryan looked around. She’d spent a few hours in the station’s interview rooms over the past few months as part of the investigations into two murders. Today the little room seemed smaller and stuffier than usual, the metal table and chairs colder. Was that a function of the fact that she herself was a suspect?
“How are you doing?” Jack’s question pulled her back to the present.
“It’s terrible to think I was talking with Veronica,” she glanced at her watch, “a little over twelve hours ago. It’s so sudden.”
“It always is,” said Gus.
They sat at the table in silence for a few minutes while Gus and Jack reviewed their notes. Jack looked at his partner and Gus nodded for Jack to go ahead.
“Ryan, tell us what happened at the meeting last night.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, lining up the facts in chronological order. She started with her arrival, then talked about the interactions between Veronica and each of the committee members.She described the climactic scene between Veronica and the rest of the group toward the end of the meeting.
“So this…Father Paul had to get everyone settled down?” asked Gus.
“It got pretty heated.” Ryan felt a knot forming in her stomach as she relived the confrontation. “But we all agreed we’re working on the FLH for the same reason, so we called a truce.” She shifted a little in her seat.
“Did everyone agree to the truce?” asked Jack. “Or was someone holding out?”
Ryan’s answer was immediate. “Everyone shook hands on it. We all wanted the FLH to be a success. We were going to put aside our differences until it was over.”
Jack nodded. “I understand Danielle Nunez got pretty heated last night. It sounds like she and Veronica almost came to blows.”
“Danielle was angry, but she was just telling Veronica to back off and let us manage our own events.” Ryan looked from one detective to the other. “Veronica is—was—very opinionated. Bossy. A control freak. But disagreements are normal when a committee is made up of different personalities.”
“Did Ms. Nunez leave the house before or after you did?” asked Gus.
“I was the first to leave, and I left alone. Father Paul, Emma and Danielle were still there when I left.”
“And Chase?” asked Jack.
“Oh yeah, Chase was still there.”
“Can you tell us more about how Chase was behaving last night?” asked Gus.
“
He was…Chase. Smiling, jovial, a drink in his hand. He made sure Veronica had someone on her side when things got testy.”
Gus looked up. “How so?”
Ryan described how Chase had stood next to Veronica when the others confronted her. “He had his hand on her arm like he was being protective.”
Gus made a note.
“Do you think Chase hurt Veronica?” asked Ryan.
Jack looked up. “You know we always look at the husband or wife…or partner.”
“I’m familiar with the procedure,” she said dryly.
Gus asked, “Ms. McCabe, did you leave some of your chili at the Arrington house last night?”
“Yes, about a quart of it. They put it in a glass container with a lid.”
Jack leaned forward. “In case there’s a question about something Veronica ate, can you tell us what was in your recipe?”
Bingo. They think it was poison.
Ryan held up her phone. “I have the recipe right here. I’ll text it to you.” She pushed a few buttons and they heard the whoosh sound that signaled a sent message.
“Ms. McCabe, did you go back to the Arrington house after you left last night?” asked Gus.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I went home and went to bed.”
Gus and Jack looked at each other for a moment. Then Jack said, “I think that’s all for now, Ryan. Are you planning to go out of town anytime soon?”
“What? Am I a suspect?”
“We’re not far enough into the investigation to have suspects yet,” said Jack. “But let us know if you’re planning to go anywhere.”
“I don’t have any travel plans.”
Gus lifted the pen from his pad. “What happens with the FLH now that Veronica is gone?”
Ryan froze. “Um…I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to ask the committee.”
Gus stood. “Please call if you think of anything else we need to know.” The detective handed her his card and she stuffed it in her pocket. He seemed to think for a second, then said, “Let me walk you out.”
