by Cat Larson
The next thing I recalled, it was 5:00 a.m. Jiminy Cricket. I vaulted up, convinced I’d been Skull Rooted, even if I felt the opposite of refreshed.
The one saving grace was Mike snoozing away, but who knew for how long. I had to get out of here while it was still dark. I poured a full bottle of water down my parched throat and changed clothes. What I needed was a quick shower, but I’d already wasted almost a third of my day watching the back of my eyelids.
“Fernando?” I called out. “Come on, we have to go.”
I searched around, eventually finding him under the bed behind the locked box. I lay down and stretched out my arm, but it didn’t reach that far. Grrr….
“I’m sorry, okay? You can be mad at me later.” He blinked but didn’t budge an inch. I knew how hard it was on him, my spending time with my ex, and I’d probably acted too harshly when he’d plowed into the vase, but it hadn’t exactly been a basket of Caliente’s homemade tortilla chips for me either.
I dragged out the box, then left and returned with a broom, sliding it underneath the bed. All he did was hop over it as I moved it back and forth like it was a game to him.
“I get it. You’re the master of leapfrog.” Not much of an accomplishment, considering. “Fernando, please. There’s not much time. We have to go. Now.”
Argh. Precious time was ticking away. Mike could be awake by now. I stood and threw up my hands. Forget it. If Fernando wanted to be stubborn, there was nothing I could do about it.
I shut the bedroom door, breaking my rule of not leaving him alone again. What choice did I have?
A quick look out the blinds showed me that Lady Luck was still rooting for me. I tugged on my boots, tossed on my coat and hat and slipped out the door with a flashlight in gloved hand. So much drama that could’ve been avoided if only the place had a back door.
I took off, darting over to the next block, not stopping until I was sure he hadn’t woken up and noticed. I’d high-five myself if there were two of me. The park was my first stop, the second would depend on what, if anything, was discovered at the first.
The fence now had police tape all over it, in addition to the tunnel itself. No doubt spurred by my previous disregard for the law. I had one foot inside a chain-link when movement caught my attention. I whipped my head around in time to catch a flash of red zipping over the bridge, passing under the streetlight, and disappearing into the darkness. I quickly pulled the flashlight from my pocket and yanked my foot out.
Oof! And landed flat on my back as a result. I patted around for the light that had flown out of my hand. Not finding it, I scrambled up and brushed off.
“Violet?” I yelled, then raced off in the direction she’d gone.
I was mystified. There was no way she could have gotten away so fast. She hadn’t gained that much of a lead on me. I shouldn’t have called out her name, but it’d been a knee-jerk reaction.
I continued on the footpath that circled the waterfront, praying I didn’t encounter an icy patch, and smashed right into one of the piers that had been removed for the winter.
“Ow!”
Obviously, not a pier. Piers didn’t talk. Although, it was Bigfoot Bay; anything was possible.
I staggered back, seeing stars. Dawn was approaching, and if I focused hard enough, I could make out a familiar face.
“Mrs. Fairchild?” I rushed over and grasped her. I’d just had a head-on collision with my mom’s best friend, who was more than double my age, and she’d handled the accident better than me. Even her coffee hadn’t spilled. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yes, dear. A little taken off guard but no harm done. What has you scurrying around this early in the morning?”
“I saw Violet. I was trying to catch up with her.”
“Violet?” Mrs. Fairchild swiveled her head around. “Where?”
“You were coming from the other direction. You didn’t see her run by in her red coat?”
“I’m afraid not.” Her eyes filled with concern. I thought she was going to place a hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling well, dear?”
“I… I think so.” I knew I saw her. I thought I saw her. Dang it. I had no idea if I saw her or not. Maybe my suspicion about getting the wrong drink wasn’t so unrealistic. Could Skull Root induce hallucinations?
“You’ve been missing her, haven’t you? Wanting something badly enough can play tricks on you.” I nodded, not sure what I was agreeing to. “But when she returns from her little vacation, don’t you think you’ll be the first one she sees?”
“I hope so.” She patted my shoulder, and I eyed the Bigfoot Café to-go cup in her hand. “I didn’t know they opened so early.”
“Five on weekdays. Very convenient for us early birds. I always try and get a bit of fresh air and exercise before the rest of the town wakes up. A cup or two of strong coffee is the carrot I need to haul myself out of bed.”
From what I could tell, a normal amount of steam rose from the hole in the lid. “It doesn’t look like one of those strange smoky drinks I see everyone getting lately.”
She laughed. “Good heavens, no. Call me old-school, but I don’t see the allure of those things. But they do seem to be very popular.”
Yes, too popular. How much simpler would life be if only one person in town drank them—namely, Clarisse—instead of everyone and their mother?
“I’ll let you get back to your walk now,” I said. “Sorry again for crashing into you. I need to pay better attention.”
“Pfff. No worries. It was a good diversion.”
“Diversion? Is there…” I paused when I noticed a man standing near the fence.
“Something wrong, dear?”
“There’s a guy staring at us.” The sun had risen enough to notice his scrutiny. He more resembled an odd duck than a man wearing a suit.
Mrs. Fairchild followed my gaze. “Oh, pay him no mind. It’s probably just another one of those insurance investigators. There’s so much hoopla going on right now, especially since the authorities have Jed Kent held for questioning.”
“Who’s Jed Kent?”
“The attendant that was in charge of the ice tunnel exhibit when… when you had your unfortunate discovery,” she whispered as if it were a secret.
The guy did say there was a delay, and Griffin and I were the first ones to enter the tunnel that night. “They think he had something to do with her death?”
“Not directly but there’s talk that he’s covering for the ice company. You know how it is around here. So much gossip. There’s speculation that he was paid off to keep his mouth shut. Personally, I think it’s hogwash. Our beloved festival has been around for decades, and never once was there a safety issue. Now, all of a sudden, they’re making a stink?”
Mrs. Fairchild’s head trembled enough to pop off; I worried for her blood pressure. I placed my hand on her arm to calm her.
“Like some melting ice killed Misty,” she continued, “What a load of rubbish.”
So, Griffin wasn’t blowing anything out of proportion. It really was believed the area was dangerous.
“Do you know why Misty was even near the tunnel if it was closed down? This Jed Kent guy told us it wasn’t ready until right before we arrived.”
“Because she was scheduled. She worked for parks and rec.”
Oh. That was new information. “Was Clarisse Jones also hanging around the area?” Even if it all turned out to be some freak accident, I still felt she was guilty of something.
“Clarisse? No, why?”
“I don’t trust her.”
She chuckled. “No one does. Fortunately, she doesn’t leave her house much.”
Huh. Lucky me. I’d been in town just shy of four days and saw her for half of them. “Well, thanks for chatting with me, Mrs. Fairchild. I should get back to the shop in case Violet shows up.”
She squeezed my hand. “You do that. I’m sure she’ll be back before you know it. Give her my love.”
“Will do.”
“And don’t forget to stop by and visit me at the hotel before you leave town.”
“I won’t forget. Promise.”
The man that’d been gawking at us was nowhere in sight, and I debated about returning and hopping the fence, completing my original mission.
I ended up walking away. After what Mrs. Fairchild had told me about the attendant, it’d be ill-advised on my part to continue snooping around as if consequences didn’t apply to me. It was like I was morphing into my sister. She was the ‘punch first, ask questions later’ sibling, and I was the sensible one. But here I was, barely thinking twice before jumping off a building just because there was a conclusion at the bottom.
What I needed to do was come up with a reasonable plan. That was the only way I’d find Violet. I crossed the street, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand. When I got back to the shop, I would—
Mike. I darted inside the nearest entrance and was greeted by a divine smell. Freshly ground coffee. Was it a coincidence that the closest store was a coffee house and not a fish factory? I didn’t care in the slightest.
I peeked out the window, confident Mike hadn’t seen me. He cruised down the street, probably on his way to the park. Whew, that was close.
When I turned around, there were ten eyes on me. What? You’ve never seen a grown woman act paranoid before? I flashed a big smile and stepped up to the counter.
“Hey, I know you. Easy girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your order, nice and easy. Plain black coffee. Dark roast.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Will it be the same today?”
“Sure.” I rooted around in my jacket pocket. I hadn’t planned on buying anything, but at least I had the option since I’d started keeping money in my pocket instead of my purse. Wouldn’t want Fernando to choke on a coin.
“I never got your name.” He pulled up a cup and filled it with fresh, hot heaven.
“It’s… Samm.” What the heck, it was easier this way. “And yours?”
“Zed.”
“Nice to meet you, Zed. Again.”
“Likewise.”
Zed the Zen guy. Should be easy enough to remember. I handed him a few bills while glimpsing the pastry case. It was slim pickings: A couple of cinnamon scones, one oat bran muffin, and zero chocolate chip banana bread.
“Not much out today,” I said. “I know Amy’s been unavailable, but don’t you have other bakers who supply the café?”
He shrugged. “You’d have to ask Clare. She’s in the back.”
I stepped to the side so Zed could give another customer a refill. I sipped my brew, waiting for the chance to talk with him further. Working in the town’s only coffee shop, I figured he might have some insight into… Uh, what was that behind the counter? I drummed my fingers, urging him to finish up.
“Hey, Zed. Is anyone else in the back besides Clare?”
“No.”
My heart throbbed harder. “Could you get her for me, please?”
“Sure.”
I crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t just yell for her, catching a break when he left the front and out of my sight.
Without another thought, I reached over the counter and snatched the red coat, then tore out of that café like my life depended on it.
Chapter Thirteen
I sprinted full throttle all the way to the shop, slamming the door behind me. Clutching the red coat, I caught my breath and tried to quiet my mind long enough to solve the puzzle.
Never mind that I’d just channeled my inner Violet, running off with the coat right after making the resolution to tone things down. None of that mattered anymore because I knew who was responsible for Misty’s death.
Clare. It was Clare.
Holy moly, I’d figured it out.
One, she had access to enough dry ice to freeze a herd of elephants. Two, she had Violet’s coat, which meant it was her, not my sister, who’d been on the bridge the morning of the festival.
Now, I just needed proof that she’d been in possession of chicaweed and had the knowledge to pull it all off. I should search her place too, see if she was growing any of those stupor-inducing ferns I read about…
Wait—why did she have Violet’s coat?
I scoured it over, inspecting the tag as if expecting it to be labeled with a name like a toddler’s. I had to face the possibility that it wasn’t Violet’s coat at all. I ran to her bedroom closet and rummaged through, looking for anything long and red. Okay, there was no coat. But that still didn’t prove anything. Violet could’ve been wearing it the night she left. And Clare could own the exact same one. Just because Mrs. Stein said no one else paraded around in that color, didn’t make it law.
Think, Samm, think. If only I could connect a few more dots, I’d be able to go to Damon. I’d also be helping Mrs. Fairchild in the process. Since her hotel sponsored the event, I couldn’t imagine a scandal like this boding too well for business.
But first, before anything else, I needed to check on Fernando. He had to have gotten over his grudge by now. When I looked toward the bed, I saw him sitting on top of the locked box that I’d never shoved back to its hiding place underneath the bed. The way he looked up at me tumbled my heart around my chest. I’d been so excited, but nothing I’d discovered so far had led me any closer to Violet.
Which meant my fiancé was no closer to warm-bloodedness either.
The rap on the front door had him leaping off the box and diving under the bed. Great. I didn’t even want to leave the room, not when it was probably someone who just wanted to lecture me.
After the third knock, I ventured out. It wouldn’t hurt to look in case it was Sage. I peeked out and spotted Amy. Shoot. I’d forgotten about her tea.
I unlocked the door. “Amy! It’s so good to see you out and about.”
She stepped inside. “Thanks. I’m just wondering if you found that calming tea yet? I could really use it right now. I had a terrible night.”
“Yep, I found it. I was meaning to let you know, but I got a little wrapped up in something.”
“I bet you did,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She smiled. “Ditzy me, I almost forgot.” She pulled a small wrapped loaf from her coat pocket. “I made you some chocolate chip banana bread. Perfectly cooked. No charred edges.”
“Oh… great. How thoughtful.” I set it on the counter. “Let me grab that tea for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, does this mean you’re baking again? I was at the café earlier, and they’re wiped out of almost everything.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing all morning. It feels so good to finally put all this behind me and get on with my life.”
She was pretty chipper for having such a terrible night but good for her. I went into the storage closet and pulled down the jar of chamomile.
Amy was right behind me. “Not that one, silly.” She pointed at the chicaweed. “That one.”
“No, that’s not the right stuff. That’s…” Um, how did…? It was like she knew the jars had been switched but didn’t know they’d been switched back. Or… “Is there another plant whisperer in town?” I asked, chuckling.
“Plant whisperer? You crack me up, Samm.”
I couldn’t pinpoint why my gut felt topsy-turvy. “It’s chamomile you want, not chicaweed. I’m sure of it. I consulted with Sage.”
“Interesting tidbit. Did you know chicaweed is a cousin to the banana plant? In fact, I’ve baked with it before and you can’t even tell the difference.”
I slowly turned around. Her grin was a little too Cheshire cat-like. “Yeah, that is interesting. But I’m not sure why you’re telling me.”
She thrust the bread that was supposed to be sitting on the counter in my face. “Here, try for yourself.”
“Uh, no thanks. I’m not really a banana person.” Thump, thump, thump. My little stomach flips had turned into a tsunami, and it wa
s crashing my heart into my ribs.
“Don’t be rude. It’s delicious.”
“I already ate, but make sure to leave it here when you go and I’ll have some later when—”
“I said try it.”
Holy Shih Tzu… is that a gun? The barrel pointed under her coat, aimed right at me. I took a step back. “Amy, what are you doing? Calm down.”
The creepiest thing was that she’d never stopped smiling. “Look, I’ll even go first.” With one hand she somehow peeled back the wrapper and broke off a piece, all while continuing to eyeball me. She popped it into her mouth. “Yum. Told you it’s delicious.” She cracked off a hunk and shoved it to my lips. “Your turn.”
Was she disturbed enough to drug herself too in order to convince me to eat some? No, I decided. She already had a gun; she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do. None of it made any sense, and I told her so.
“You’re a smart girl, Samm. Or should I call you Eve?” She smirked. “I don’t blame you for being hesitant about my bread. Do you have any idea what high amounts of chicaweed can do to a person? I’m sure you do. I can tell by your face. But what you might not know is that I experimented a whole lot and discovered that baking weakens the toxin, nearly rendering it inactive. So, sampling some won’t hurt you in the slightest.” Her smile inverted and she shot me a dagger. “Eat it.”
The second the bread passed through my lips, hers lifted again as if a puppet master had yanked her strings.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” As if to prove her point, she consumed another large piece.
Blech. Yeah, it really was that bad. It tasted like banana-flavored paste. I detached my tongue from the roof of my mouth and made a face.
She pouted. “Aww, I’m offended.”
“Told you I didn’t like banana,” I rasped.
“Oh well.” She shrugged. “More for me.” She scarfed down another pasty lump. “Mmm.”
Who was this woman, and what did she do with sweet, little Amy? Since she’d swallowed more than triple the amount of my helping, I no longer worried about dying so much as going—in any other context, the pun might be funny—bananas.
