Poison Me

by Checketts, Cami

  Jennalou stopped near the back of the room. “Any idiot could come to that conclusion.”

  Ruby glanced at Ellie.

  “Then how did you figure it out?” Ellie asked.

  Jennalou tossed her stringy gray hair. “You two are not the judge and jury. I am not going to tell you how I guessed that the victims were poisoned.” She turned and strode from the room.

  Ellie gave Ruby a look but didn’t say anything. They would discuss Jennalou’s slip of the tongue later.

  Ellie pulled a chair forward and turned it to face the group, then sat. “Excuse the interruption folks. Now, where were we before psycho wench interrupted?” She tapped her forehead, looking at her notes. “I say they were murdered—already did that. Hmm. Oh, here I am.” She lifted her chin. “Okay, people. We have to work together. We can’t let this murderer get away with our friends’ blood on his or her hands.”

  Ellie swallowed, blinking back tears. Everyone waited silently for her to continue. Finally, her voice came low and quavering. “Let’s figure out who’s committing these atrocities before more ‘old people die.’” She emphasized the last three words and looked pointedly at the residents. “Got it?”

  Everyone nodded, probably terrified of sharing any honest opinions.

  “Good.” Ellie’s voice was at full strength again. “Now here’s what we know. Psycho woman, Jennalou, was spot on for once. They were all poisoned.”

  Several ladies gasped and a low mumble started, rolling across the room like an afternoon storm.

  “I said quiet,” Ellie warned. The room settled and she started again. “Ruby recognized the same substance on Anne and Richard as on…” Ellie paused and gulped, her throat bobbing several times. “As on Marissa.” Ellie closed her eyes for a few seconds, then wiped her cheeks dry.

  Ruby looked at Michael. He wrapped his strong fingers around her hand.

  “The police,” Ellie’s voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and continued. “The police are checking into some leads, the best one being that there was a medication in Marissa’s blood that wasn’t on her prescription list, but unfortunately Samantha was right—the police assume these people were old and sick. The cops aren’t going to be much help. So we need to be on high alert. Watch who goes into and out of rooms. Lock your doors. Don’t open up for anybody.”

  Ellie pounded on the desk. “And I mean anybody! Stay in pairs when you go to dinner or for walks.” With narrowed eyes, she studied those unfortunate enough to have chosen the front row. “Do any of you have that home-health-care hooker come check on you?”

  A few hands reached into the air, but more confused whispers were heard.

  Ellie held up a hand for silence. “Well, you make danged sure someone else is in your room when anybody visits, but especially” —she raised her eyebrows and pointed at a group of women— “especially when that underwear-showing nurse comes in.”

  “Tracy?” Samantha asked, covering her heart with her hand. “Tracy is my niece’s daughter.”

  “That explains a lot,” Ellie muttered.

  “She doesn’t show her underwear,” Samantha said, “and she would never poison anyone.”

  Ellie’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen her underwear, but I didn’t say she poisoned anyone.” She looked at Ruby. “All I’m asking is for you to be careful who you let in your room. Every murder has happened with a resident alone in their room. Make sure you’ve got a friend visiting when home health comes by, even if she is your niece’s daughter. Got it?”

  Samantha murmured, “She’s not a hooker.”

  She was silenced with a glacial stare from their self-elected leader. “Do you understand?” Ellie pronounced the words slowly.

  Samantha nodded.

  Ellie leaned back in her chair. “Spread the word to the residents who skipped today’s meeting. Don’t let your friends become martyrs.”

  “Don’t you have to be standing up for a cause to be a martyr?” Lanna questioned.

  Ellie slammed forward in her seat. “Shut it,” she warned.

  Lanna made a grandiose gesture of locking her lips and throwing away the key.

  Ellie struck an imperial pose. “Now, does anyone have any intelligent questions or thoughts?” She continued on without bothering to wait for a response. “Uh-huh. I didn’t think so. This meeting is dismissed. Be safe, and let’s work together to find that killer!”

  As the residents filtered from the room, Samantha muttered, “Don’t know why the killer would take Anne, Richard, and Marissa, and leave someone as cranky and mean as Ellie.”

  “She’s extra cranky because she lost another one of her best friends,” Lanna said. “Give the old biddie a break.”

  Ellie’s shoulders slumped. Ruby hurried to her side and wrapped an arm around her. Ellie wiped the wetness from her face and turned to look at Ruby. “I should’ve listened to your cockeyed story sooner.” She swallowed and looked down. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Ruby. Maybe Marissa would still be here if I hadn’t been so skeptical.” Ellie clenched her small fists. “That murderer better watch it, because I’m on her like flies on rotting cow poop.”

  ***

  Ace flipped through the cable channels in the dumpy room he shared with Willy. The Preston Motel would’ve been filled with cockroaches, if the climate were conducive to the pests. The room stank of dirty socks and last night’s pizza.

  Willy sneaked out of the room earlier, claiming he was going for a walk. Ace was sure it would be a meander. Willy didn’t do cardiovascular exercise, claiming it reduced his bulk. He was a muscle-head, always powering through more weight sets. In the three years Ace had known him, Willy had never wasted the energy to go on a walk.

  Ace rolled his shoulders several times, trying to ease the pain in his upper back. He was the one who needed to go for a walk. Willy had left to escape his irritable partner, but Ace couldn’t get away from himself.

  He didn’t mean to be touchy, but if the waiting weren’t enough to drive him crazy, his dreams would certainly take him there. The television landed on CMT. Ace stared at a music video without seeing the beautiful woman on the screen.

  Every night the gorgeous Chanel appeared in his dreams. He ached to hold her, but the loss of her touch wasn’t the only thing that tormented him. It was the look in her eyes. He expected rage or condemnation—those he could deal with. He scratched at his jaw, stood, and walked to the hard-water-stained window. Droplets cascaded down the glass as a sprinkler made its rotation, adding to the buildup on the dingy glass.

  Ace shook his head, trying to focus on the cars trickling down Main Street instead of visualizing Chanel’s eyes. Why did she have to look at him like that? He hated that emotion. At seventeen, when Ace stole enough money to escape his alcoholic father, he swore he would never see that look in someone’s eyes again. It was the last thing he’d seen in his mother’s whimpering gaze as he disappointed her for the final time.

  To see that look in Chanel’s dark eyes ripped at his heart. Ace shoved away from the window. It wasn’t true. It was just a dream. If he ever saw Chanel again, he’d be in a lot better position than he was now. He’s strut up to her and she’d be surprised, looking at him with a mixture of anger and love. She’d probably slap him and scream or look hurt. Then maybe they could talk things out and she’d let him hold her. His fist slammed against the hard mattress. Chanel could rant and rave and hopefully forgive him, but she would never look at him with pity in her eyes. Never.

  He’d kill her first.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The door pulsated, taking a light pounding from whoever was standing on Ruby’s threshold. She rushed through the apartment and made sure the deadbolt was in place before yelling, “Who is it?”

  “Olivia,” called a lilting soprano.

  Ruby frowned. Olivia? “From Flowers and Beyond?”

  “Where else would I be from?” the sweet voice replied.

  Ruby popped the deadbolt and opened the door to find th
e redhead hefting a huge bouquet of begonias and daylilies intertwined with greenery. “You have a nice touch, Olivia. I love the way you’ve arranged them.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia smiled. “Michael said these were your favorites.”

  Ruby’s heart thumped quicker. She threw the door open wide. “Michael?”

  “He said you needed a pick-me-up.” Olivia winked. “If you aren’t the luckiest woman in Preston, Idaho, I don’t know who is.”

  Ruby took the flowers, inhaling their soft fragrance.

  Olivia waved a cheerful goodbye. “Don’t forget to say some prayers of gratitude for that man,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Thank you,” Ruby said. She knew she wasn’t just the luckiest woman in Preston. She was the luckiest woman in the whole state of Idaho, maybe the whole country.

  ***

  Jake slid the chair out from the table, helped Chanel sit, and settled into the seat next to hers. The restaurant’s ambiance wasn’t remarkable—mahogany paneling, scarred wooden chairs and tables, framed pictures of wildlife, and dim lighting.

  “So this is The Coppermill?” She glanced out a window overlooking the wide main street of Logan, Utah, and the Latter-day Saints’ tabernacle. At least the view was nice.

  “Logan’s finest restaurant.” Jake winked and kissed her.

  She leaned into him. No view could compare with his olive skin, dark hair and eyes, and lips that smiled so mischievously and tasted so good. “I shouldn’t have said you could do that anytime you want,” she said. “You know I’m a girl with values.”

  “Dang, I didn’t know that. So, what’s my limit here?”

  Chanel smiled, tapping her chin. “An hour a day.”

  “An hour a day—hmm. Not much time.” He grabbed her and captured her mouth.

  After several minutes, she pulled away and said, “People are watching.”

  “Let’s make it a good show then.”

  Her laugh was cut short by Jake’s lips covering hers. When the waiter arrived with water and rolls, Jake finally released her. She perused the menu and decided on the filet mignon. He raised an eyebrow and ordered the chicken cordon bleu. Chanel’s face flushed. Her dinner cost twice as much as his.

  The waiter left, and Jake grinned at her. “Looks like I’m the woman today, huh?”

  “What do you mean?” She fiddled with the cloth napkin on her lap.

  “You order red meat, and I order a wimpy chicken dish.”

  Her cheeks got even hotter. “I’m sorry I ordered such an expensive dinner.”

  Jake smiled. “You think I ordered the chicken because your dinner cost too much?”

  Chanel glanced at the salad bar, mortified at having brought up such an issue. She absently touched her birthmark.

  Jake covered her fingers with his hand, directing her eyes to his. “I ordered the cordon bleu because it’s amazing and I had a steak last time I came here.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry about mentioning the money.”

  “Don’t apologize. You don’t need to worry about money when you’re with me.” He stood and helped her out of her chair. “Are you ready for salad?”

  Chanel thought back to the embarrassment of being at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, watching as Ace’s credit cards were rejected one by one. She’d finally picked up the tab that night and knew whenever he offered to buy she should order something inexpensive.

  She and Jake helped themselves to the salad bar. After sitting down with a plateful of green and pasta salads, she lined her lap with a cloth napkin and took a bite of crab salad.

  “When are you going to tell me what he did to you?” Jake asked suddenly.

  The bite went down like a tablespoon of salt. Chanel swallowed a gulp of water. “Who?”

  “The guy who makes your eyes look so sad whenever something happens that makes you think about him. The loser who broke your heart.”

  Chanel set her glass on the table with a trembling hand, turning from Jake’s gaze. She hid her unease behind a bright smile. “That story wouldn’t go well with steak.”

  His eyes filled with disappointment. “No?”

  She shook her head. “No.” Twisting the edge of the napkin with one hand, she forked more salad with the other. “So, where did you go to medical school?”

  “University of Utah.”

  “And your undergrad?” She dipped a bit of green salad into ranch dressing and avoided Jake’s gaze.

  “Utah State.”

  Chanel glanced up at him. “You ventured far.”

  Jake shrugged, finally smiling. “Couldn’t be too far from Grandma Ruby and Brinley,” he said. Then he shared funny stories about Marissa, Ellie, and Ruby. Chanel was grateful they could focus on something besides Marissa’s awful death or Chanel’s past love life. Jake seemed satisfied to reminisce. Dinner passed with a myriad of delicious sensations: the tender steak, the rich chicken Jake shared with her, a roll saturated in butter and raspberry jam, her second piece of turtle cake in less than twenty-four hours, and Jake caressing her leg under the table.

  After dinner, they went for a drive. Jake stopped the truck at the base of Logan Canyon, next to First Dam. He unbuckled her seat belt and encouraged her to scoot closer.

  “You were too far away over there.” He kissed her lightly.

  Chanel leaned against his chest and listened to the ducks quacking on the water.

  “Why won’t you tell me what happened with you and loser boy?”

  She trembled. “Why would you want to hear something so depressing?”

  Jake ran a hand down her arm and gently captured her fingers between his large hands. “Because I care about you.”

  “Guess that’s an okay reason.”

  He smiled. “Come on. ‘The shallow schmoozer’—isn’t that what you called me? The shallow schmoozer is trying to get deep here. Cast me a worm, baby.”

  Chanel looked up. “Fishing lingo?”

  “Yeah.” Jake caressed her fingers with his thumb.

  She shook her head.

  “You still won’t tell me?” he asked.

  “I was wrong.” Chanel bit her lip, gazing up at him. “You’re not a schmoozer.” She kissed him with a passion she’d never felt before.

  After several seconds, he pulled away and grinned down at her. “Wow. I thought you had values.”

  “I do.” She kissed him again.

  “Gotta love a girl with values,” he said against her lips.

  Many minutes later he pulled back. “I think I’ve used my allotted time.”

  “Maybe I could give you some bonus minutes for the great dinner.”

  Jake laughed. “That’d be mighty sweet of you.” But he didn’t try to kiss her again, just stroked her arm. “Please tell me what happened with you and the schmoozer.”

  Chanel studied him in the approaching dusk. He was extremely good-looking and confident like her ex-fiancé, but there was something more genuine, more real about Jake. She knew it. She took a breath and exhaled with the words, “Ace used me.”

  Jake arched an eyebrow. “Ace?”

  “Yeah.” Holding onto Jake’s hand, she buried her face in his chest and mumbled, “It’s pathetic, but I still don’t know his real name. Everyone called him Ace.”

  Jake cupped her chin with his palm, tilting her head back and studying her eyes. “How did he use you?”

  “He lied to me, told me he was a financial planner. But he was at the casino too often, basically a career gambler.”

  Jake pursed his lips. “What a life.”

  “Hopefully one you’ll never have.” Chanel paused, then finally said, “I don’t know why I let myself fall in love with him. He was such a smooth talker and I was dumb.” Jake looked like he wanted to say something, so she rushed on. “Ace was cheating the casino. One of the regulars, an old guy named Don, always hung around him and his friend Willy.” She shuddered as she pictured the hulking Willy.

  “Don started getting suspicious of all t
he money they were winning,” she continued. “So he approached the dealer he thought might be helping them cheat and offered the guy a lot of money to buy into the action. A little down payment, and the dealer admitted to everything. Don went to casino security and explained how Ace and his buddies were stealing.”

  Jake gently massaged Chanel’s back, watching her silently.

  She took a couple of steadying breaths. “The casino owners were going to set up a trap for Ace, Willy, and the dealer, but someone who worked at the casino must’ve tipped off the dealer. Ace and Willy disappeared before the cops could stop them.”

  Chanel’s voice rose with her ire. “Ace and his buddies found a way to make it look like I was the one who helped them cheat.” She studied the steering wheel. “I was around Ace all the time, so he wrote a letter to the casino manager explaining how I was giving him and Willy signals about who had what cards and distracting the dealer and others at the table by how I looked.”

  Jake nodded. “I’ve heard of people doing that.”

  Chanel closed her eyes, not wanting to remember, but the scene was still as vivid as the day it had happened. “The old guy, Don, backed me up when my boss and the police confronted me, but Ace had planted enough seeds of doubt to prevent his friend, the dealer, from serving time. When it came down to it, they didn’t have enough proof to prosecute either one of us. The dealer and I were both fired. Ace and Willy disappeared. Nobody knows where they went.” She spit out the last few words, still dumbfounded that the man she thought she loved could not only be a crook and desert her, but use her as a scapegoat to clear his friend’s name.

  She clutched Jake’s shirt. “Ace tried to stop me as I was leaving Vegas.” Her voice trembled. “I got away from him and never looked back.”

  “Wow.” Jake pulled her closer. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

  “It does suck.” Chanel forced a shaky laugh. “But I’m getting over it.”

  He tilted her chin up. “Are you?”

  “You could help some more.” Focusing on Jake’s mouth descending on hers was heaven after talking about Ace.