Poison Me

by Checketts, Cami

  Cami Checketts

  Birch River Books

  Smithfield, Utah

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Poison Me

  COPYRIGHT 2013 by Camille Coats Checketts

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover Art by Janna Barlow

  Interior Design by Heather Justesen

  Birch River Publishing

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my gaggle. Thanks for being my friends through it all.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Janna Barlow, Heather Justesen, Rachel Ann Nunes, and Linda Prince for sharing your talents and expertise with me.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  About the Author

  Other Books by Cami

  Prologue

  Chanel Roberts slammed the back door of her Jetta. In the trunk and back seat, she’d loaded everything she would need for the next few weeks. As part of her severance package, a moving company would ship the contents of her apartment wherever she requested—how kind of her employer, after firing her for something she didn’t do.

  A hand wrapped around her waist. She screamed.

  “Chanel, it’s me.” Ace spun her to face him, his blue eyes reflecting the bright lights of the parking lot.

  She wielded her keys like a weapon. “Let go of me.”

  He slowly released his hold but didn’t back away. Chanel yanked open the driver’s side door. If I can just get into my car and call the police. She got one foot inside before Ace grabbed her arm.

  “You have to listen to me for a second.”

  She tried to pull free. “No, I don’t. You set me up. I lost my job, and I lost—.” Chanel choked back the word and the sob. She’d almost admitted she was more upset about losing him than she was about him ruining her life.

  “It was Willy’s fault. Please, you have to believe me. I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go away and—”

  Suddenly, a large, muscular man ripped Ace away from the car, wrenching Chanel’s arm in the process.

  “Thought you could run away with your girlfriend and leave me behind?” It was Willy, Ace’s repulsive “partner.”

  Ace smacked his fist into Willy’s face. The blow hardly affected the bigger man. Chanel dove into her car, shoved her keys in the ignition, and yanked on the door. Willy stuck his arm inside the car. The door smacked his bicep and he grunted, but kept reaching towards Chanel.

  Panting for breath, she turned the key, jammed the Jetta into reverse, and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. The car flew backwards, flipping Ace and Willy away from it. Chanel wrenched the steering wheel, closed the door, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

  The Jetta shot off through the parking lot. Chanel risked a glance in the rearview mirror. Ace and Willy scrambled from the ground. Ace reached out to her with one hand. She turned the corner, dialing 9-1-1 and cursing herself for looking back.

  Chapter One

  Ruby Merrill tiptoed down the wide hallway. She looked left, right, then left again. Convinced that nothing but expensive paintings and potted plants watched her, she tapped on the apartment door and whispered, “Anne? Are you awake in there?”

  “Do you realize it is past no-noise time?”

  Ruby whirled, coming face to face with her friend Ellie.

  “Why’d you leave me?” Ellie asked.

  Ruby took a ragged breath and a step back. “Criminy, El. You terrified me. What are you doing, sneaking up on me?” She placed a hand on her thumping chest. “You could give me a heart attack.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a nice way to go?” Ellie arched a plucked and darkened brow, planting her fists on her thin hips. “You knew I wanted to check on Anne with you.”

  Ruby turned back to the door. “Check on her all you want—I’m the one with the treat.” She held aloft a generous slice of lemon pie on a small plate.

  “You stole an extra dessert.” Ellie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Honest Ruby, a klepto.”

  “You wish.” Tilting her head to the side, Ruby glanced at her friend. “I didn’t steal it. I’m not marching straight to heck with you.”

  Ellie snorted. “It’s hell, not heck. Which, by the way, will be boring without you.” She shoved Ruby out of the way and knocked loudly on the door. “Anne! Open up. It’s your favorite women in the world.”

  “Shush.” Ruby glanced up and down the hall. “You know it’s past no-noise time.”

  Ellie’s jade-colored eyes flitted in Ruby’s direction. “What are the managers going to do—take away your dessert?”

  Ruby gave her a soft push. Ellie’s perfectly spiked hair seemed to bristle. “That’s exactly what the managers are going to do, and you know it. Three no-noise violations this week, Ellie. Every one of them your fault. You know I can’t survive a month without chocolate pound cake.”

  “Calm down,” Ellie said. “Maybe a month without dessert would cure your seventy-year chocolate addiction. Your mother must’ve lived on Ghirardelli’s when she nursed you.” Ellie turned Anne’s doorknob and grinned. “Time for a little law-breaking.”

  “Do you know the penalty for breaking and entering?” a voice screeched in Ruby’s ear.

  Ruby and Ellie spun. Ruby clutched Ellie’s hand. Not the managers. Oh, thank heavens—she adored the center’s chocolate pound cake. “Jennalou,” she said with a curt nod, looking up a few inches at the angular woman.

  Jennalou sterilized her fingers with an antibacterial wipe. “Do you have Anne’s permission to enter her private abode?”

  Ellie folded her arms across her chest, refusing to answer.

  Ruby held up the slice of pie. “I’m betting this will grant me entry.”

  Jennalou’s eyes narrowed, deepening the ruts in her face. “Don’t be presumptuous.” She didn’t stop wiping, down one digit, underneath the nail, and then back to the top of the finger. “I know what can happen to those who break the law.” She leaned in closer. “Do you want to spend your retirement years in… prison?”

  The last word was accentuated by a hissing sound and enough spittle to ruin the pie. Ruby’s mouth dropped open, her taste buds mourning the loss of a perfect dessert. She caught Ellie’s glance and hid a laugh. The high-dollar retirement center, hidden in southeastern Idaho’s loveliest canyon, was advertised as “Gracious living for healthy, active adults.” Apparently it was hard to screen for mental instability.

  “If we leave any fingerprints,” Ellie said, “we’ll borrow one of your wipes.”

  Ruby bit the inside of her cheek.

>   Jennalou glowered and pursed her lips. “Don’t mess with me.”

  “We wouldn’t dream of it,” Ellie replied.

  Tossing her stringy hair, Jennalou marched past them. Her clogs left craters in the plush tan carpet. “They’ll learn,” she muttered, hurling the used wipe in a stainless-steel bin. “Those loudmouths will regret being flippant with me. Someday…” She opened a travel pack and retrieved a fresh wipe before she turned the corner.

  Ellie snickered under her breath. “Psycho.”

  “Certified,” Ruby said.

  Ellie turned the handle and pushed the door with her hip. A wall of heat escaped from the apartment, but the place was dark. Ruby took a step back. Why would Anne have her heat on during the zenith of summer? Rank air filtered into her nostrils, making her cringe.

  “Not like Anne to stink,” Ellie held her pixie nose with a manicured thumb and first finger.

  “Not at all,” Ruby agreed. “Anne?” She squinted into the darkness, but couldn’t penetrate the blackened room. Flipping on the light next to the door, she saw her friend resting in her tan leather recliner. “Why are you sitting here in the dark? Being sick is depressing enough.”

  Ruby closed the door behind Ellie and approached Anne’s chair. Their friend’s hazel eyes were wide and her pale fingers trembled. She took a raspy breath and choked on it for several seconds before exhaling.

  Ruby rushed to her side. After setting the pie on the end table, she snatched a glass of water and pressed it to her friend’s lips. “Drink this, sweetie. It’ll help.”

  Ellie hung back a step, studying Anne with a fearful gaze and open mouth.

  Anne took a sip, sputtered, and knocked the glass away. Water sprayed the table and Ruby.

  She offered it again. Anne tried to push it away but wasn’t strong enough to move the cup. “No. Won’t help,” she mumbled before another coughing spasm seized her.

  Ruby set the glass down and leaned in. Anne’s rancid breath thrust her back. She smelled odd—not halitosis or vomit, but something more acidic. Ruby looked to Ellie for help, but her friend stood with a dropped jaw and unblinking eyes.

  Ruby forced herself to move closer to Anne. “Have you called your doctor?”

  Anne grabbed her arm with blue-veined fingers. Ruby hardly felt the pressure. “She…” Anne coughed. Blood splattered her handkerchief.

  “Anne!” Ruby yanked on the emergency pull cord and snapped her fingers in Ellie’s direction. “Call 9-1-1.”

  Ellie finally moved, hurrying to the phone next to Anne’s chair and dialing. She leaned away from Anne as if her friend’s sickness could consume her.

  “She did…” Anne’s body convulsed, another round of coughs doubling her over.

  The heater kicked on. Ruby wiped at the moisture on her forehead and watched her friend helplessly. Could help get here in time? Silently, Ruby prayed for divine intervention.

  “Help,” Ellie whispered into the phone. “My friend is coughing—she can’t breathe.”

  “Tell them there’s blood,” Ruby yelled.

  “There’s blood.” Ellie glanced up. “Blood where?”

  “When she coughs.”

  “When she coughs,” Ellie repeated, then looked to Ruby, green eyes pleading for escape. “They asked if we need an ambulance.”

  “Yes!” Ruby watched Anne, choking and struggling to breathe. Her fingertips and lips were turning gray. “Look at her, Ellie. She’s gasping for air. I don’t think she has much longer.” Please save her, Lord, Ruby prayed.

  Ellie nodded. “She’s gasping for air,” she repeated into the phone. “She might not have much longer.” She paused and then said to Ruby, “They’re on their way.”

  “They’re coming to help you.” Ruby grabbed Anne’s limp hand. A web of veins stood in stark contrast to the paper-thin skin draping her friend’s face and arms. The coughs racked Anne’s body. She couldn’t draw a full breath.

  Ruby prayed harder, patting Anne’s shoulder. “Hold on, sweetie. Help’s coming. You’ll be okay.” Oh, please let her be okay.

  Anne’s head tossed from side to side as she gasped for oxygen. “No.” She coughed up more blood. “She did…” She clung to Ruby’s hand, her gaze begging Ruby to listen, to understand.

  “She did what?” Ruby prompted. “Did someone hurt you?” Her eyes darted to the shadows looming in the large apartment. Who was this “she”?

  “Yes.” Anne nodded. “Yes.” She gulped for air and then with a heave forced out the words, “She… poisoned… me.” Her head lolled to the side and the coughing ceased.

  “Anne!” Ruby screamed.

  Chapter Two

  Chanel opened the passenger door of her Jetta and lifted a box of exercise tubing into her arms. She shut the door with her hip and walked towards the retirement center. A few more loads and all the equipment would be ready for armchair aerobics. She smiled. The residents were going to love this class, and she loved that she was here to teach it to them.

  Had it really only been a week ago that she’d escaped Las Vegas with a load of clothes, her severance pay, and a scrap of paper that said, “Cub River Retirement Palace is hiring an activities’ director”? She’d been offered a job minutes after arrival. Now if she could forever bury her memories of Vegas and her ex-fiancé, Ace.

  “Dr. Schovil, no,” a deep voice called from a few feet away. The man groaned. “Oh, please, sir. Don’t do that.”

  Chanel’s head snapped in the direction of the visitor’s voice, she hadn’t seen many men her age since coming to the retirement home. Grimacing, Chanel wished she hadn’t looked. Dr. Ira Schovil, a resident, manifested the early stages of Alzheimer’s. The elderly physician had dropped his pants, displaying a wilted derriere while watering the lush flowerbeds.

  “Would you like me to help you find a bathroom?” the dark-haired man asked.

  “Why? The gardens are my urinal,” Dr. Schovil snickered and aimed at a pink begonia.

  Chanel tried to sneak past the men and reach the columned front entrance without being noticed.

  The young man pivoted away from the elderly doctor, shaking his head. He tugged at his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his long-sleeved dress shirt. Chanel wondered why he would wear long sleeves in this heat and hated herself for noticing the contrast of his handsome, dark-skinned face against the white shirt.

  He caught sight of her and flashed an embarrassed grin. “Excuse the anatomy lesson.”

  Chanel’s fingers dug into the cardboard box, his smile was as perfect as the rest of him. “The good doctor’s given me a few of those.”

  “I’ll bet he has.” The young man’s eyes sparkled at her. “Look at what you’ve done, Doc. You’ve embarrassed this beautiful lady.”

  Dr. Schovil zipped his pants and whirled around. “Beautiful lady? Oh, oh, oh. Yes, she is.” He did a quickstep, crossed the grass, and opened his arms wide to embrace Chanel.

  She backed away, lifting the box in her arms to ward him off. “Maybe after you wash your hands, I could have my hug.”

  “Good, good. Washing hands is brilliant. I always scrubbed before surgery.” His head bobbed. “She’s smart and beautiful, sonny.” Dr. Schovil shook a bony finger at her. “Cleanliness saves lives.”

  “Yes, it does,” Chanel said. “We need to wash our hands and make sure we use a bathroom next time.”

  “Use a bathroom, what a waste.” Dr. Schovil cackled and hurried past her, repeating, “Gotta find a bathroom and wash my hands, gotta find a bathroom and wash my hands.”

  The young man watched her, his dark eyes warm underneath darker brows. “I think you’re in for a hug whether you like it or not.”

  Chanel couldn’t help but grin back. “The problem is he usually forgets that he’s given me one, so I end up with ten hugs per day. And his fingers don’t always stay on my back.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Smart old Doc.”

  Chanel tried to scowl. “You wouldn’t say that if he was fondling you.”


  “Now that is an awful thought.”

  Laughing, she shifted the box in her arms. “I thought I’d take these bands into the activity closet, but maybe I’ll sneak around to my apartment instead. If I give Doc a few minutes, he’ll find one of the attractive older ladies and forget about me.”

  “I don’t think you’d be easy to forget.” He winked at her, but then his smile faltered and he jammed his long fingers through his dark, wavy hair. “Horrible thing to lose your mind. Dr. Schovil was my physician. Brilliant man. A lot of people have forgotten how much respect he deserves.”

  Heat flooded Chanel’s face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s easy to see these people as old, forget they had a former life.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’ll bet it would be hard to remember.” The young man lifted an arm towards the three-story building. “It’s different for me—I’ve known and loved these people all my life.”

  “You have the advantage over me,” she said. “I’ve just started loving them.”

  His chiseled face broke into a grin. “Good for you.”

  Chanel hefted the box and walked a wide arc around him. “Nice talking to you,” she murmured.

  She glanced back before she rounded the corner of the building to find him still watching. She couldn’t deny he was good-looking. She should’ve prolonged the conversation, introduced herself. No, she thought, shaking her head. After her last experience with a man that attractive, she’d vowed to stick with someone non-threatening—like the azalea-watering doctor.

  Chapter Three

  Breakfast had been cleared from the commons area that served as the retirement center’s dining room and social gathering spot. Various card games were underway this morning. The room bounced with cheers of triumph when a good hand surfaced, and shouts of protest when someone got caught cheating.

  Ruby played the card game Baseball with Ellie and Marissa, her closest pals—minus their friend Anne. They sat at their usual spot, while other residents shuffled past their table and murmured condolences and assurances of prayers in their behalf. Ruby rolled her neck, gazing up the vaulted ceiling. The summer sun streamed through hundreds of panes. She frowned. The sun shouldn’t be shining today.