Poison Me

by Checketts, Cami

  “Not all of us are so happy about Richard’s death,” Ruby said.

  “That so? Whyever not? I mean, you want the man here and miserable just so you can have an opportunity to serve somebody?” Olivia’s words were harsh, but said in a kindly tone.

  “No. Of course you’re right, Olivia. It is better he’s with Alice.” Ruby leaned into Jake’s side. “Would you please do a nice arrangement for me?” She plunked a hundred-dollar bill onto the counter.

  Olivia nodded and smiled as she picked up the money. “Sure. That will be plenty for something real nice—real nice.” Jake knew that with an alcoholic husband and three children in college, Olivia had to make her flower shop succeed.

  The door swung open behind them. Jake glanced over his shoulder and saw Michael enter the shop. He smiled a greeting, but Ruby didn’t turn or acknowledge him.

  Olivia’s jaw went slack, but she recovered quickly. “Well, lookee here, if it isn’t Michael Trapper.” She batted her eyelashes and leaned forward, exposing a generous portion of her concave chest. “And what brings you into my humble shop, sir?”

  “Hello, Olivia. I need to order a floral arrangement.” Avoiding looking at Ruby, he threw down two hundred-dollar bills. “Whatever you can do with that, thanks.”

  “Anything for you, Michael,” Olivia said in a low voice. “Anything.” She licked her lips and elevated a shoulder. “Would you like me to deliver them to the funeral home or bring them by your place?”

  “The funeral home is fine.” He finally glanced at Ruby and Jake, mustering an embarrassed smile and a nod.

  Olivia twisted a dark-red curl around her finger. “Let me go get my funeral flower books and we can all get cozy and pick out some beauts,” she said with a grin.

  “Oh, no,” Ruby and Michael said together, then both glanced at the floor with obvious chagrin.

  “Whatever you pick out is fine with me,” Michael said.

  “Me too,” Ruby said. She tugged on Jake’s arm and they turned with a quick goodbye.

  Michael followed a step behind. Jake caught a glimpse of Olivia’s disappointed face.

  “Don’t be strangers now,” she called to their backs. “Come see me anytime!”

  “Thank you, Olivia,” Ruby said.

  “Thanks,” Michael mumbled.

  The door slammed behind them. Ruby tried to drag Jake to his truck, but he wanted to talk with Mr. Trapper. He swung his grandmother around to face Michael.

  “I heard you found Uncle Richard,” Jake said.

  Michael nodded. His gaze pivoted to Ruby, then quickly darted away.

  “Thank you for taking care of Grandma that night.”

  “Jacob Stanford Merrill,” Ruby cried out. “I don’t need any man to take care of me!”

  Michael nodded to Jake again. “It was my pleasure, son. I’d take care of Ruby anytime.” He raised two fingers to his brow, saluted her, and walked away, his spine as straight as a plank.

  Jake glanced down at his grandmother. Her mouth was slack. Her eyes followed the tall man who’d just declared how he felt in front of her grandson and in spite of her bitterness. Ruby leaned forward as if she wanted to chase after him, but then pulled back and wrapped her arms around her midsection.

  “Jake?”

  “Yes?”

  “Take me to Big J’s. I need a hot fudge shake with chocolate chips.”

  He couldn’t hide his grin. “Sure, Grandma. I’d take care of you anytime.”

  Ruby’s eyes narrowed. “You repeat that to Ellie and I’ll… I’ll ground you.” She snapped her fingers in his face.

  Jake laughed out loud. He helped his grandma into his truck, not bothering to remind her that she hadn’t been able to ground him in over ten years.

  ***

  Chanel’s red Jetta crept down the street. Ellie had described Jake’s house for her: a restored, two-story redbrick home with black shutters and numerous trees. She spotted the house and an instant later saw Jake lifting a load of weeds into a green waste container. She braked to a stop and stared. She’d never seen him in anything but a shirt and tie. Savoring this view was a necessity. His bicep muscles cut grooves in his olive skin, and his T-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders.

  He turned at the sound of the motor, then smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. Chanel eased her foot off the brake, inching to the front of his house before putting the car in park. Tilting the rearview mirror to glimpse her reflection, she wished she had time to touch up her lipstick. She glanced out the side window. Jake was watching, so the way she looked would have to suffice.

  Chanel shut the car off, opened the door, and stepped onto his front lawn before she lost her nerve. Straightening her yellow shorts, she made sure she hadn’t spilled any of her tiger’s blood snow cone on her white shirt.

  “Hey.” He hurried to meet her. “How are you?”

  She shifted her weight from one sandaled foot to the other, stroking the birthmark on her face. “I’m good. Your yard looks great.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chanel lowered her hand and laced her fingers together. “I’m sorry I interrupted your work.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m glad you did. I needed a break.” Jake folded his long arms across his chest. The sun glinted off his slightly deformed forearm, highlighting a vicious scar.

  Her eyes widened. “What happened to your arm?” Involuntarily, her fingers reached toward it.

  Jake jerked away and covered the scar with his other hand. “A burn.” He forced a smile. “No big deal—happened years ago. So, how’s the old folks’ home treating you?”

  Chanel laughed. “Your grandma would beat you for calling it that.”

  “I’ve slipped before. Seriously, how are you liking the gaggle?”

  “The gaggle?”

  “My dad used to say Grandma, Ellie, Marissa, and Anne sounded like a gaggle of geese when they got together.” Jake smiled. “They hated the nickname, especially Ellie. Aren’t they funny?”

  “They’re great. I wouldn’t complain about the ‘gaggle’ for a minute.”

  “Ellie isn’t giving you too hard of a time?”

  Chanel’s shoulders relaxed. The urge to hide the ugly birthmark dissipated, and she rested her hands at her side. Jake was easy to talk with. He made her comfortable because he was so relaxed, with the exception of the odd way he kept covering his arm. “Ellie keeps things interesting,” she said.

  “She does, but I’m sure it’s not as interesting as what you’re used to.” He arched an eyebrow. “Living the slow life now.”

  Chanel dug the toe of her sandal into the closely cropped grass. “Just because I’m from Vegas doesn’t mean I lived the crazy life.”

  He released his hand from his arm. Before she could look at the scar again, he drew both hands behind his back and clasped them. He looked like a Marine wearing gardening clothes. “Aha. Denial.”

  “Denial?” A slight breeze lifted wisps of hair from her cheeks but did nothing to alleviate the warmth she felt with Jake looking at her like that.

  “The little town of Preston can’t keep up. You’re used to partying every night.”

  She grinned. “You’ve got no proof of that.” A lone car crept down the quiet street. Two teenage girls gawked at them as they passed by.

  Jake waved. The girls waved back like they were on a royalty parade float. “See, in Preston we’re the best entertainment available. What are you doing right now?” His biceps bulged as he kept his hands secured behind his back.

  “Right now?” Chanel pointed at the retreating car. “I’m not much better off than them, driving around trying to find something to do.” Or driving past your house so I could stare at you, she thought.

  “You’re off work?”

  She nodded.

  He opened his eyes wider. “And how is it you just happened to drive past my house?”

  Her face reddened. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask the obvious question. “I got lucky.” The hot sun ha
d nothing to do with the sweat forming on her brow.

  Jake looked like he was trying hard to suppress a smile. “Right,” he drawled out the word. “Did Grandma tell you to come over here?”

  “No.” Chanel paused, studying the large leaves on a poplar tree, dancing in harmony to the stirring of wind. “Ellie did.”

  Jake chuckled. Finally relaxing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. The scar was deep red and extended the length of his crooked forearm. One thing was certain. It was no burn.

  Chanel lifted her eyes to his. She couldn’t allow herself to focus on the wound, especially now that he’d finally allowed her to see his bare arm. “Ellie dared me,” she said. “The deal was I had to come over here and talk to you.” Chanel looked down. “The winner gets the loser’s serving of chocolate pound cake at supper tonight.”

  “Quite a dare,” Jake said. “You playing spin the bottle later?”

  She laughed. “Whatever it takes to entertain Ellie.”

  “Sounds fun.” Jake pursed his lips, emitting a low whistle. “Invite me next time you play.”

  Chanel flushed with warmth, imagining Ellie daring Jake to kiss her. “I’ll make sure you get an invite.”

  “So you have to waste your night with me for a slice of cake? You couldn’t think up a better prize for the winner?”

  Chanel pumped her eyebrows. “Have you had the chocolate pound cake?”

  “No, but I hope it was worth the agony of having to come see me.” He winked.

  She smiled. “I’ll let you know later.”

  Jake shook his head. “Good old Ellie. I’ll have to thank her, but I think you’re going to miss supper tonight.”

  Chanel’s gaze darted to his arm again. “Can’t happen. I can’t miss my cake.” She met his gaze. “I worked hard to earn it.”

  He didn’t give any indication that he’d noticed her curiosity. “Sorry about that, but you’ll have to make Ellie save you her piece. You’re coming to dinner with me.”

  “Oh, no.” Chanel backed up a step. “I’ve already won. Ellie didn’t say you had to take me out.” Chanel’s face flamed red again. How could she explain that she’d love to date him, but she didn’t want to force him into it?

  “Sure, I do. I can’t have you bored and all alone in the big town of Preston.” Jake glanced over her slowly. “No. I couldn’t let you be unsupervised. Let me change my clothes and we’ll go.”

  He placed a warm hand on her back and escorted her across the grass and up the steps of the wide front porch. They walked through a two-story foyer and into a large living room. Numerous windows framed the towering elm trees and lush vegetation of the yard. The floors in the living room were distressed hickory, the walls tan. Two black leather couches provided seating. Cherry-wood bookcases were filled with books, and a large flat-screen television hung on the wall at one end of the room. It looked like a bachelor’s pad mated with a restored house.

  “Nice place,” Chanel said. Then she noticed the plant towering in the corner of the room. She shot a curious glance at Jake. “What’s with the palm tree?”

  He smiled. “I love the Caribbean.”

  “Hmm. So you brought a piece of it home.” She clucked her tongue. “And what is Jake Merrill’s favorite spot in the Caribbean?”

  He shrugged. “Anywhere with blue water and white sand is fine by me.”

  “But you’ve got to have a favorite.” She imagined him lying on the beach, all muscled and tan, with her fingers trailing down his scarred arm and him telling her all his secrets. Her birthmark had always made her feel self-conscious. She wondered if he kept his arm covered for similar reasons. He probably had no idea that the deformity endeared him to her, made her feel like he could relate to her own insecurities.

  Tilting his head, he paused before saying, “Vieques.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Beautiful little island off the coast of Puerto Rico. Decent scuba-diving, but I love it because it’s so unexploited. You go bajaing through these dirt roads and come out on a pristine white sand beach with nobody else around.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Chanel glanced through the archway to the dining area and large windows showcasing the backyard. She gasped. “You have a pool.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow. Caribbean lover, scuba-diver, and pool owner. You must be an amazing swimmer.”

  Jake swallowed. “I like it.”

  “You must to have put in an underground pool in a town that’s cold nine months of the year.”

  Jake chuckled. “It’s only cold to those with thin blood.” He gestured out the window. “I heat the water in the fall and spring, and the thermal cover keeps it almost too warm in the summer.”

  “A pool can never be too warm.” She shook her head, liking the things she was discovering about Jake. “I can’t believe you have a pool.” Most people she knew with pools were wealthy. Jake was a pediatrician, but he couldn’t make amazing money in Preston, Idaho, she’d overheard Ellie saying he only worked part-time because his clientele was still building. She’d heard his family had money, but he didn’t behave like a wealthy person. “Did you swim competitively?”

  “In high school.”

  “Preston had a swim team?” she asked.

  “No. We’re too big of hicks for that.”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  He shook his head. “Believe me, Chanel, I didn’t take any offense.”

  She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

  “I drove to Pocatello and swam for Highland’s team,” he said.

  “Hmm.” She looked over his lean frame. Her gaze settled on the dark depths of his eyes. “A swimmer. I kind of imagined you as the basketball star, football hero kind of guy.”

  “No.” He turned from her to look out the back windows. “I quit all of that my senior year and just swam. I used to love all the team sports, especially football, but then… I needed a break.” Finally, his gaze met hers. “Guess I’m kind of a loner. Did you play sports in high school?”

  “Volleyball and track,” Chanel said.

  He grinned. “You wear those little running shorts?”

  “They were bad in high school, but in college I swear they shrank.” She pulled a face.

  “Did you keep any of the small ones?”

  She swatted at him. “No, but thanks for asking.”

  Laughing, he dodged away. “Can’t blame a guy for that.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  “So you competed in college?”

  Oh, no. She was talking too much. “Uh-huh.” Now she was the one studying the dogwood bushes out the window, trying to think of a way to steer this conversation away from her past. “Hundred-yard dash and long jump.”

  “Really? So you’re fast.”

  “Used to be.” How embarrassing to brag about running for the university track team. “Now I’d rather run long distance.” She glanced at Jake’s handsome face. “Must be getting old.”

  His eyes traveled up and down her frame. “I think you’ve still got a few good years hiding in there.”

  “I do live at the Retirement Palace.”

  He laughed. “True. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  After watching him sprint up the stairs two at a time, Chanel meandered the length of the living room. One of the many bookshelves showcased framed family pictures. Most were of Ruby, Jake, Brinley, and Trevor. Only one contained Jake’s parents, posing in front of an Egyptian pyramid. She studied them for a minute. His father was tall with piercing blue eyes and sandy blond hair. His mother was the complete opposite—small with olive skin and black hair. No wonder Jake and Brinley had such beautiful coloring. Chanel hadn’t heard anything about Jake’s parents, but his dad’s grin looked enough like Jake’s to make her instantly like him.

  Below the pictures were several photo albums. She almost didn’t open them, but curiosity won the battle against propriety. She breezed through cute pictures of Jake as a chubby baby and
mischievous grade-schooler. When she reached the photos of him as a teenager, she stifled a giggle at the gangly boy trying to appear tough. An angelic-looking girl with heaps of white blonde hair was in most of the pictures with him. When Chanel turned to a death announcement with the same girl’s picture on it, she cried out, “Oh, no.”

  Long fingers took the book from her hand and snapped it closed. Chanel looked into Jake’s face, which was lined with pain. “I—I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have snooped.”

  He reshelved the book but didn’t face her. “It’s okay.” He braced himself on the bookshelf with both hands.

  She studied his broad back, unsure what to say. She wanted to ask who the girl was, and why he was so affected by her after all these years, but knew it wasn’t the right time.

  After several long seconds, Jake turned to her with a tight smile. “So, Pizza Hut, Big J’s, Golden City, Subway, or would you rather drive to Logan for dinner?”

  Chanel swallowed and tried to paste on a grin. “I love Subway.”

  “Of course you do.” Jake pushed a hand through his dark hair and smiled broader. He was wearing his standard attire¾long-sleeved button-down shirt and khaki pants. “All health freaks love Subway,” he said.

  Chanel laughed, the tension washed away like sandcastles when the tide comes in. “I’m not a health freak.”

  He winked. “Anybody who looks as good as you is definitely a health freak.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Michael didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But when a man hears his name and the name of his beloved repeated in hushed whispers and can remain discreet and listen, he listens.

  “I don’t know what to do with Ruby,” a feminine voice said. “I mean that crap-pot Don has been dead two years now and we both know Ruby never liked him when he was alive. Now, Jezebel, the wench, finally kicks herself out of this world and then Michael moves into the retirement center. I mean, this is prime loving opportunity, and Michael really seems interested. Amazing with the way Ruby treats him. Why won’t she give that man a chance?”