Rosemary's Gravy

by Melissa F. Miller

  “That night,” he repeated hoarsely.

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “That night. When you got so sick, it wasn’t from the scallops. Somehow, Alayna managed to expose you to a toxin called botulinum,” I said, forcing myself to think about the poison and not the hungry way he’d looked at me before the toxin had taken effect.

  My words seemed to stop his mounting desire in its tracks. His eyes, which had become heavy-lidded and soft, snapped open. “Botulinum? Like Botox?” he asked.

  The undercurrent of urgency was unmistakable. “Well, yeah, sort of. It’s produced by the same bacterium that’s used cosmetically, but it can be fatal when it’s ingested.”

  My knowledge about the use of the toxin as a cosmetic treatment was very limited. A few years earlier, my parents had been approached by a dermatology outfit about adding its services to the spa’s menu. My dad had asked me, as the family scientist, if it was truly safe. I’d told him that as far as I knew, it was, but he’d decided that injecting poison into a person’s wrinkles didn’t really fit with the spa’s natural mission anyway.

  “Botox,” Felix repeated. He bounced on the balls of his bare feet.

  “What am I missing?”

  “Amber had regular Botox treatments.”

  “Why? She didn’t have a single line on her face.”

  He shrugged. “We’re talking about Hollywood, Rosemary. She was terrified of aging out of the hot girlfriend role and into the mom role.”

  I could feel myself winding up for a rant about the ageism and sexism in the movie industry, but I squelched it and settled for giving him a look of sheer disbelief. I had more important topics to discuss. “Okay, so Amber saw a dermatologist. That’s sort of irrelevant to the fact that Alayna got her hands on botulinum toxin. Isn’t it?”

  “No. I don’t think it is. As terrified as Amber was of getting old, she was equally terrified of being perceived as someone who was worried about aging. Follow?”

  “Not really. But keep going.”

  “She was really concerned that some nurse or receptionist or someone would leak the story that she used Botox to the tabloids. So she got my dad to find her some doctor in Mexico who would sell the stuff to inject into herself at home.”

  I’d seen a lot of crazy things working for Amber Patrick, but the idea that she was buying back alley Botox from Mexico kind of took the cake. “Are you being serious?”

  “Oh, yeah. But there’s more. It’s not like Amber was going to handle that transaction in person.”

  “She sent Pat?”

  It was his turn to give me the ‘you can’t be serious’ look. “Oh, hell, no. She sent Alayna.”

  Of course she did. Sending her Hispanic maid over the border to do her dirty work was a move straight out of Amber’s playbook. “No wonder Alayna killed her,” I said more to myself than to him.

  He shook his head and took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly then looked me straight in the eye and said, “That’s not why Alayna killed her—if she killed her.” He paused and cleared his throat. “A few days before Amber died, she found out Alayna and I were dating and threatened to fire her.”

  Time seemed to slow down, way down, and his voice sounded distorted and garbled in my ears. “You were dating Alayna?” When Detective Drummond mentioned sexting, I figured the two of them had carried on a mild flirtation. That was one thing. But dating …

  “For a while. It was nothing serious, Rosemary. Not like what we—”

  I raised my palm. “Don’t. Please. When was this?”

  He winced before answering. “I broke up with her the day before Amber’s party. When I tried to explain I just wasn’t feeling it, she started shouting about how it was all Amber’s fault. I couldn’t care less what Amber thought about it. I don’t even know how she found out. But Alayna wouldn’t believe me that Amber wasn’t behind my decision.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the cops?”

  “I didn’t think she’d kill Amber. And I didn’t want to embarrass her.”

  I tilted my head and searched his face. There had to be more to it than that.

  He swallowed. “And I didn’t want you to find out. I broke up with her because I wanted to ask you out. I was afraid you’d say no if you knew I’d been dating her.” He stared down at his feet.

  “We’d better get the police in here,” I said through the jumble of questions and accusations bouncing around my mind.

  He nodded in mute agreement and headed for the door.

  * * *

  The detectives had barely been able to contain their joy at Felix’s revelation. Having been handed motive on the proverbial silver platter, they raced off to the mansion to search for evidence tying Alayna to Amber’s murder and Felix’s poisoning. And because Felix told them Alayna usually worked until nine on Friday evenings, they were hoping to catch her still at the house. The downside of their enthusiasm was that they decided to have the available patrol units meet them at the Patrick residence, leaving no one behind to drive me back to my car.

  I waited a few minutes after the Crown Victoria peeled out of the driveway to make sure they were sufficiently far away from the apartment. Then I turned toward Felix and broke the thick, awkward silence. “Well, I think I’m just going to walk back to my car. It’s a nice night.”

  My nonchalance apparently didn’t fool him. “Not a chance,” he shot back instantaneously.

  “What?”

  He stepped toward the hallway, conveniently placing his body between me and the door. “Your pal, Detective Dumdum—”

  “It’s Drummond,” I snapped.

  “Easy, tiger,” he laughed and patted his hands downward in the air. “Detective Drummond pulled me aside when his boss was shrieking orders into the phone. He said you were going to try to leave, and he told me, no matter what you said, I couldn’t let you leave. Not until we hear that Alayna’s in custody or a uniformed officer shows up at the door.”

  Stupid Detective Dumdum. I smoothed my expression into a smile. “Oh, come on. Since when do you listen to authority? What’s he going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know, arrest me? He seemed pretty serious about it.” Felix said without a trace of humor.

  “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “Come on, Rosemary, is the thought of spending time with me really so repellant?” He raised his arm and pretended to sniff at his armpit.

  I tried not to smile, but a grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. Then I reminded myself about his thing with Alayna, and my smile evaporated. “So, what exactly was the deal with you and Alayna? Did you …”

  “Did I sleep with her? Is that what you’re trying to ask?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I hated to admit that I cared but not knowing was driving me bananas. And unless I planned to tackle him and then make a break for the door, it looked like I was stuck here for a while. Might as well satisfy my curiosity.

  He shook his head and gave me a thoughtful look. “I don’t think it’d be fair to her to talk to you about that.”

  Huh. On the one hand, that seemed like an undue level of deference to give to a person who’d tried to kill him. On the other hand, I was encouraged to know it meant he’d be unlikely to regale any future girlfriends with the tale of the night he nearly yakked all over me. On balance, I decided I was okay with that. “That’s fair,” I said with a shrug.

  “Thanks.” He took a step closer to me. “You know, I’m not a complete douchebag.”

  “I don’t think you’re a douchebag at all. I think you’re”—I paused to consider whether I wanted to be completely honest with him and decided I did—“a spoiled trust fund baby who doesn’t view anyone who works for a living as his equal.”

  His head snapped back like I’d slapped him. I quickly added, “I don’t think it’s entirely your fault. You grew up filthy rich. It’s what you know.”

  “Jeez, Rosemary, I think I’d like it better if you did think I was a douchebag,” he mumbled.
r />   The hurt in his eyes seemed genuine. I felt a measure of sympathy for him, but he needed to know. “No hard feelings, okay? I’d like to stay friends.”

  He wrinkled his forehead at that but, after a moment, opened his arms. I hesitated for a second—in part because I thought he might be able to feel the Kevlar vest and didn’t want to get into a discussion about it. But, in the end, I hugged him.

  He held me tight against his chest. I could feel his heart beating under his shirt. “Friends, huh? If you ever decide you’re interested in being friends with benefits, promise you’ll let me know.”

  I rested my head against his chest and laughed. It was true, I couldn’t fault him for being an out-of-touch one percenter. And he was a reasonably decent guy—just not boyfriend material. Having him as a friend would make Los Angeles that much more palatable. “You’ll be the first to know,” I said in a mock serious voice.

  The comfortable companionship lasted approximately ten seconds before it was interrupted by the sound of someone turning a key in the kitchen door.

  I pulled back and looked up into his worried face. “Your dad?” I whispered.

  “No clue.”

  We ended the embrace and turned to face the back of the house as the door opened and Alayna burst into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. She smiled knowingly at us. “Oh, this is perfect. You’re both here.” Her voice was measured but her face betrayed her emotion—she was nearly purple with rage.

  Uh-oh, I thought in what had to be the internal monologue understatement of the year.

  Beside me, Felix found my hand with his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What are you doing here?” he asked her cautiously.

  She laughed frantically at that. “I think you know,” she said as she walked into the sitting room and stopped about eight feet away from where we stood.

  21

  The three of us stayed motionless in an uneasy, wordless standoff for what felt like several minutes. I guess none of us had any first-hand experience in hostage situations or whatever Alayna had in mind, so we weren’t sure what to do. Finally, Felix broke the silence.

  “Let’s go into the parlor and sit down and talk,” he suggested as if there were nothing out of the ordinary about her appearance at the apartment.

  Alayna narrowed her eyes and frowned. But after a moment, she nodded. “Fine. You first,” she gestured toward the doorway. That’s when I noticed the gleaming chef’s knife in her hand. I recognized it from the kitchen. It wasn’t really the best work tool, in my opinion, but it was a high-end piece of cutlery, and I happened to know that it was wickedly sharp because I’d honed it myself the night I’d made the ceviche.

  My worry blossomed into something more akin to sheer panic but I forced myself to follow Felix’s lead, putting one foot in front of the other, and trudged toward the seating area in the parlor. My throat was tight, my mouth was dry, and my pulse was like a trapped moth beating its wings. I lowered myself to the love seat next to Felix. I sneaked a glance at his face —pale, drawn, and serious.

  In contrast, Alayna appeared to be enjoying herself. Her dark eyes shined almost merrily and she flashed us a wide smile. “So, lovebirds, do you have any idea why the police are swarming all over the mansion?” She punctuated her question by waving the knife with a flourish.

  I cleared my throat to answer but Felix spoke first. “I imagine you know. But, here’s a question for you—how did you manage to leave?”

  She tossed her head with laughter, sending her shining hair cascading over her shoulders. “Ah, stroke of luck. Your father’s lover called and asked me to run to the liquor store because the drunk was out of gin. I was delivering his booze to Antonio’s house when a stream of police cars went racing past, up the hill to your house. So I continued down the hill.”

  “And you came here because …?” he prompted.

  Her smile widened and she pointed at me with the knife. “Because I’m guessing Rosemary here told the cops some ridiculous story about me poisoning you after she snooped around in my files today. So going home is out of the question. I’m sure there’s a squad car sitting in front of my building. I considered going to the campus—lots of buildings, there—and hiding out in one of the libraries or labs. But I decided I didn’t want to risk going anywhere public. Then I remembered I had a key to this place. Finding your car in the driveway was a delicious surprise. The fact that she’s here, too, is just a bonus.” She laughed—a little crazily, I thought.

  I squirmed, and Felix placed a hand on my thigh, right above my knee. I’m guessing the gesture was meant to soothe me. Unfortunately, it sparked new anger in Alayna. Her face darkened and she sneered at Felix. “Save your groping for another time.” His hand slid off my leg and rested on the cushion between us.

  “Um, Alayna, you should know that we’re not dating. Anymore, I mean.” I kept my expression and voice neutral as I said the words, hoping they’d calm her down instead of further winding her up.

  Her eyes sparked, and she glared at Felix. “Is that true?”

  He nodded mutely.

  She turned back to me. “I’d say I’m sorry, but what did you expect from him? He’s a user. When he’s done with you, he tosses you away like a dirty napkin.”

  Beside me, Felix bristled. I didn’t dare look at him but I mentally willed him not to argue with her. “Is that what he did to you?” I asked softly.

  For an instant, a shadow of pain replaced the rage in her face, and she blinked. “Yes, of course. He’s a coward. Afraid that the vapid twit would tell his daddy about him and the Mexican girl. He didn’t want to risk losing his allowance. Eh, Felix?”

  I didn’t give him a chance to respond and defend himself. “Is that why you killed her? Amber, I mean.”

  Alayna slashed the knife through the air. I pressed myself back against the couch and tensed, waiting for her to advance. But she didn’t. “Do you think I’ve never watched TV? I’m not about to pour out my heart in a big confession to murder, Rosemary. Get a grip.”

  “Worth a try,” I said with a casual shrug.

  She shook her head in disgust.

  “Well, if you aren’t going to talk to us, what’s the plan?” Felix asked with a surge of firmness in his voice. “If you’re just going to try to carve us up and get yourself into deeper trouble, let’s get on with it then.” He jutted his body forward on the couch as if he might launch himself at her.

  I side-eyed him. “Speak for yourself. I’d just as soon sit here and have her stare at me as get sliced into ribbons, big man.” I turned back to Alayna with the friendliest expression I could muster.

  “You’re not so stupid, huh?” she said with a satisfied jerk of her chin in my direction.

  “I hope not.” I kept my eyes fixed on hers and slowly inched my foot across the floor until it was touching Felix’s. Then I pressed against it with all my strength, hoping he’d pick up my signal. Don’t move. Follow my lead. I have an idea. I thought the words as hard as I could, wishing I’d paid even the smallest bit of attention when my mom had gone through her extrasensory perception phase.

  “But then you’re not so smart, either. You fell for his lies, too.”

  I nodded my agreement. “Yeah, I did.” I gave Felix’s foot one final nudge and took a deep breath.

  Here goes nothing.

  I unfolded myself and stood up slowly with my hands outstretched. “I have to know, though, why you tried to frame me. Twice. What did I do to you?” I took a careful step forward on my unsteady legs.

  “Hey!” She poked the knife toward me as if it were a cattle prod. Behind me, I heard Felix’s sharp intake of breath.

  I took another small step. “Take it easy, Alayna. Come on, tell me. Why me?”

  She huffed in exasperation. “It’s nothing personal, Rosemary. At least it wasn’t. When you told me about Amber’s menu change I was still reeling from the way she’d talked to me. She was such a bitch. As if it was an embarrassment to her that Felix would sleep w
ith the help, especially a dirty beaner like me.” Her voice shook with barely controlled rage at the memory.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  She waved away my words. “I knew that stupid gravy was supposed to have cashews and I just kept thinking, what if you screwed up and forgot to omit them? I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.” She clamped her jaw closed and glanced at Felix as if she’d already said too much.

  I took another step before drawing her attention back to me. “But you knew I’d notice if you added them to my gravy, right? So, you didn’t.”

  “That’s right,” she said with relief.

  I left unsaid the part where she did leave a container of nuts in the trash to point to me and then decided to add some peanut oil to the wine. There was no point in antagonizing her about it. She wasn’t going to admit to a crime.

  Felix shifted on the couch and cleared his throat. “What about the Botox?”

  Shut up, I screamed silently to myself.

  “What about it?” she said angrily.

  While she was focused on him, I closed the gap between us. I was almost close enough to reach the handle of the knife, assuming she didn’t move. As I formed the thought, she waved the knife toward me. “Go sit back down,” she hissed, swishing the knife sideways.

  The light glinted off the blade. I almost lost my nerve and sunk to my knees. I managed not to. I planted my feet more firmly on the floor and said, “What did you do? Empty Amber’s unused syringes into his water bottle?” I couldn’t figure out how else she’d managed to get him to ingest the toxin.

  She looked at me as if I were pathetically stupid. “Of course not. Do you think it doesn’t have a taste or an odor?” Her voice dripped with condescension.

  “I have no idea, honestly.”

  “Well it does. But his mouthwash has a very strong peppermint scent and taste.”

  “So you added it to his mouthwash. Smart.”

  She didn’t respond to that comment directly. “When he asked me to pick up groceries for him and a date and bring them here, I knew you’d be the one cooking. And I knew your reputation was already in question because of Amber. So I bought scallops. Poorly prepared seafood is a common cause of food poisoning,” she said with so much satisfaction that I had to stop myself from punching her in the throat.