Murder Borrowed, Murder Blue

by Stephanie Blackmoore

Becca was more grateful.

  “I can’t believe you pulled this off. Helene will be furious.” Her nervousness seemed to melt away, and a giant, cheek-splitting grin lit up her face. I sat on my hands to avoid impetuously high-fiving Becca.

  “Are you more interested in marrying me or getting back at my mother?” Keith turned to Becca with a sour look on his face, and she rolled her eyes.

  “We’d better get going—” Becca stood.

  “Where are they? If I find out you’re hiding them—” Helene’s shrill voice bounced off the marble floors in the great front hall and alerted the two would-be honeymooners in front of me.

  “Oh, dear God.” Becca turned as white as the newly fallen snow and clutched Keith’s arm. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Use the back door. Head through the back hall and the butler’s pantry, through the dining room and breakfast room and kitchen. You can skirt the porch and get back to your car.” I flinched. “Provided Helene hasn’t blocked you in.”

  I felt like General Patton giving marching orders as I shooed Keith and Becca off on their mission. And not a moment too soon.

  “Mallory! Where is my son, and that wretched girl?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered sweetly, my arms crossed.

  “Don’t you lie to me, missy.” She shook her crooked index finger at me, her large sapphire ring flashing. “Their car is in the driveway.”

  She’ll find out soon enough.

  “I don’t divulge any information about my clients.” I felt a warm brush of fur at my legs and glanced down at Whiskey and Pixie. The kitty and pup had shown up for the fireworks. Whiskey let out a low growl and paced in front of me.

  A horrible flash of recognition stole over Helene’s papery face.

  “Clients? You don’t mean . . .”

  “Yup. They’re going to the chapel, and they’re gonna get married!” I couldn’t resist, and Pixie got into the act, barking and turning around in an exuberant circle.

  “You won’t get away with this!” Helene shook her fist in the air and wheeled around on her kitten heels, mincing back through the front hall with surprising speed. I followed her, Pixie trotting in my wake. Helene slipped down the front walk and threw herself behind the wheel of her Cadillac, driving off in pursuit of Keith and Becca without scraping the snow from her front window.

  I laughed and cradled Pixie in my arms.

  “Good luck, Keith and Becca.”

  * * *

  Just as Helene’s gold Cadillac advanced down the driveway, Garrett pulled in. His Accord was a welcome sight.

  He leaned in for a kiss as I stood in the doorway and I brushed snowflakes from his broad shoulders. He glanced at his watch when he came in, worry clouding his hazel eyes.

  “Adrienne took Summer to the orthodontist,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Some mother-daughter bonding time while she’s here. They were supposed to be back half an hour ago.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” I breathed. But I was also worried about Summer being out and about in this snowy weather.

  I filled him in on my elopement plans for Keith and Becca and Helene’s subsequent meltdown. We had a good laugh as we waited for Summer to return.

  Garrett breathed a sigh of relief as the rental SUV Adrienne was using turned into the driveway and slowly advanced up through the several inches of wet and clinging snow.

  “They’re back. See? Nothing to worry about.” I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding in and felt cheered as Summer advanced up the front walk. Adrienne followed, a serene smile on her face. They entered the front hall, brushing snow from their shoulders.

  “Look, Dad!” Summer grinned, her smile whiter and pearlier than ever.

  Wait a minute. Where are her braces?

  Her trademark magenta braces were gone. Her teeth were unencumbered and she looked ecstatic. I felt Garrett tense up next to me and reflexively grabbed his hand.

  “Mom said if I want to audition this summer, I’d need to have my braces taken off. I can get special clear retainers when I’m out visiting her. They’ll straighten my teeth without the braces!” Summer was nearly jumping for joy, her teeth liberated. Adrienne stood behind her, a look of triumph and defiance heightening her icy cold beauty.

  Garrett squeezed my hand, released it, and took a deep breath.

  “Summer, sweetheart, why don’t you head into the kitchen and fix a snack?”

  Summer’s face fell as she seemed to pick up on the frisson of tension in her father’s voice that I knew he was trying hard to conceal.

  “But, Dad, I can get these new retainers, and they’ll be the same as my braces! Mom said—”

  “Listen to your father, Summer,” Adrienne said softly. She seemed ready to have her showdown with Garrett. Summer headed for the kitchen in the back of the house, her slender shoulders slumping.

  “It’s interesting,” Garrett said, his voice deadly calm. “The last time I spoke with Summer’s orthodontist, he figured she had at least one more year in braces. How is it that you were able to get them removed, and you’re not even the custodial parent?”

  “Listen, for just a minute, Garrett.” Adrienne placed her hand on Garrett’s chest and he gently removed it. “Summer is a natural. She could go so far as an actress.” Her face was pleading and intense. “But it’s almost too late. She’ll need to get an agent when she comes to visit me. I thought we could get a head start on headshots while I’m in Port Quincy.”

  Garrett took a step back from Adrienne, his face a mask of anger. “She’s going to be a veterinarian, not an actress. That’s your dream, Adrienne. It always has been, and it ruined your chance to parent. That was your choice. Don’t make Summer’s for her.”

  The door flung open and Dakota and Beau returned, the tips of their noses and their cheeks a deep rosy red from a recent evening walk in the snow. They’d spent much of the day sulking in opposite corners of the house, but now they looked delighted to be together. They laughed and shook snow from their damp coat sleeves and stamped their boots on the front porch before coming in.

  So they’re back on.

  I guessed I’d still have a secret wedding to plan after all.

  “Things seem a little tense here,” Beau remarked, his smile fading.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Garrett spat.

  “Everybody calm down.” Xavier appeared at the bottom of the front hall stairs to defend Adrienne’s honor. He was her knight in shining black tracksuit. Roxanne fluttered into the front hall, carrying his smoothie in his wake. Xavier wasn’t looking so great from his bout with whatever cold he had. His face rivaled the green concoction Roxanne handed him, a light olive hue flecked with something red.

  “Kale, spirulina, broccoli, and goji berries,” Roxanne announced.

  Yuck.

  Xavier clutched the Lucite mug of smoothie, as ubiquitous and ever present as a toddler’s sippy cup.

  Adrienne looked furious to realize that Roxanne had been ministering to her boyfriend while she took Summer to the orthodontist.

  “I’d like it if you didn’t speak to Adrienne that way.” Xavier took a cautious step toward Garrett and stepped in between him and his girlfriend.

  “Oh, give me a break.” Garrett ran a weary hand through his dark hair, mirroring his father’s exasperated pose to a T. “I’m just trying to figure out why she had Summer’s braces removed.”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons.” Xavier cleared his throat, suddenly serious.

  “Adrienne.” He sank to one knee, his stance wobbly and uncertain. “I’ve waited too long to do this. You’re the one who has stood by me through thick and thin, richer and poorer. You’re a patient woman. I’d give anything for you to be my wife.” He reached into his tracksuit pocket and pulled out a ring, an enormous round diamond flanked by sapphires.

  “Oh!” Adrienne shrieked and held out her hand, her long slender fingers seeming to itch for the ring. Her argume
nt with Garrett was forgotten.

  Xavier moved to slide the bauble over her finger, his hand trembling. But before he could complete the act, he moaned, clasping his stomach. His smoothie toppled from his hand and careened onto the marble floor. The Lucite mug shattered and splintered. Goopy green goo covered Adrienne and Xavier. The ring bounced down the hallway, forgotten. The smoothie mixture spread out around Xavier in a circle, sending up a heady fume of herbs and greens.

  Chapter Eleven

  Several frightening and frantic minutes ticked by as the ambulance struggled to climb Sycamore Street. I could see the flashing red lights from the front porch, zigging and zagging up the hill, the tires struggling for purchase in the half foot of snow. The wailing siren compounded the maddening slowness.

  “Hurry, he’s not breathing!” Adrienne shouted with a hoarse voice over her would-be fiancé as Garrett performed CPR. “Stay with us, Xavier.” A stream of tears raced down her face, and she held the director’s hand as Garrett pressed on his chest. “Don’t you dare leave me now!”

  Roxanne sat on the bottom stair, her face sullen and stricken. Her emotions were visible for once, even through her mask of Botox. Pixie sat in her lap, whining and licking Roxanne’s face in commiseration, her little red doggie bow shaking in her black and white ponytail.

  The paramedics worked to stabilize the director and hoisted him onto a stretcher. Adrienne followed close behind. Her slender frame was wracked with sobs. She climbed into the ambulance and her slim blue form disappeared. The ambulance skated into the void, the snow whirling white and confetti-like against the inky black sky, the world a nightscape snow globe.

  Summer had been in the kitchen and thankfully hadn’t seen Xavier’s collapse. Garrett whisked her away and explained what had happened as they carefully circumnavigated the mess in the hallway.

  I started to clean up the smoothie, when it hit me.

  It might be evidence.

  Xavier had been consuming smoothies every day, and had grown sicker and sicker, culminating in his collapse. I eyed the green mixture puddled on the marble and carefully entombed the kitchen towel I used to wipe it up in a plastic bag. A pinging sound alerted me to the presence of my cats.

  Whiskey batted Adrienne’s large diamond and sapphire ring with her mottled orange and black paw, as deft and skillful as any hockey center. Her calico tail swished in delight, and she gamboled after the ring on clattering claws. The metal and stone skittered down the hallway, whacking into the wall with a loud plink. Soda, not to be outdone, picked up where her mama cat left off and delicately retrieved the ring in her mouth. She headed for the stairs with her prize. Whiskey gave chase down the hall and batted at Soda’s tail.

  “Oh no, you don’t, little kitty.” I scooped up the little orange ball of fluff as Soda started her ascent and delicately extracted the ring from her jaws. “I think Adrienne will want this back.” I pocketed the ring and a wave of sadness crescendoed and crashed. Adrienne Larson was no longer my professional idol, but it wasn’t lost on me how unfair this evening had been. Xavier had fallen ill just as he’d delivered on his long-promised proposal.

  “Shoo, kitties. I’m not so sure it’s safe to touch that.”

  Now that I’d confiscated their engagement ring toy, Whiskey and Soda turned their attention to the green goo from the shattered smoothie glass. Their curious kitty-cat noses twitched and their whiskers quivered. They advanced toward the kitchen towel and I scooped them up, the vision of Xavier crumpled on the floor fresh in my head. “I’m afraid that’s evidence, little ones.” I headed to my third-floor apartment, taking solace in the purring cats I held in my arms.

  I texted Rachel three times, then stopped myself from sending a fourth message.

  She’s probably just having a great time with Owen. You’re not her mother.

  But when the snow didn’t abate, neither did my blood pressure. I couldn’t keep myself from ringing Truman about my sister.

  “I have more important things to do than fetch your sister from her date, Mallory,” he chastised before hanging up.

  I fell into a fitful sleep, stringing together fretful and unfulfilling bouts of shut-eye as I tossed and turned. Whiskey and Soda curled together in two little balls of fluff at my feet, the better to conserve heat. The wind howled and the sky continued to dump snow like salt from a fast-flow shaker. All I could think of was my sister out on treacherous, slippery roads with Owen.

  Owen, who could be Ginger’s secret lover. And murderer.

  I flung off the heavy comforter and flannel sheets as soon as the sun rose and grabbed my phone.

  Be home soon.

  Phew. Rachel had answered my neurotic texts and appeared to be alive and well. I padded down the back stairs and began whipping up breakfast, a feast of fruit salad, cranberry sunflower muffins, hash browns, turkey sausage, and pancakes. Health food be damned after our rough night. I thought everyone could use some real food.

  “He’s in a coma.”

  By midday Truman delivered the news to Garrett and me, as well as my guests Dakota, Beau, and Roxanne. We were assembled in the breakfast room around the old octagonal oak table. I’d made a third pot of strong black coffee. My guests nursed the brew as they sullenly stared out the bay window. The blizzard had finally ceased. The grounds were a dazzling expanse of crystalline white powder as far as the eye could see. Delicate daggers in the form of icicles hung from the barren deciduous trees, and the sun glinted off the sugary snow. What was a gorgeous scene was wasted on us as we pondered Xavier’s fate and what it meant.

  A sagging Adrienne stood next to Truman, who had driven her back to Thistle Park. Adrienne had spent the night in the hospital with Xavier, and she still wore the same blue angora getup from yesterday. Silvery streaks of eye makeup traced a track to her cheekbones, and she’d fashioned her pale hair into a messy ponytail. It was the first time she’d appeared anything less than utterly unflappable. My heart did a little flutter of commiseration. The fiery light had gone from her blue eyes. She sank into a chair and accepted the strong cup of coffee I proffered without a word.

  “I’m just glad Summer was in the kitchen and didn’t see it happen,” Garrett muttered, taking a swig of bitter black coffee. Summer had appeared with her snack from the kitchen as the ambulance pulled away, none the wiser until Garrett explained on their way home.

  “We won’t have the toxicology report back for a few days,” Truman cautioned, “but the doctors think he was poisoned by some kind of plant or herb based on the contents of his pumped stomach.”

  Adrienne lost it then. She’d already known, but she crumpled onto the table and rested her head on folded arms. In a second, Garrett was holding her up, supporting her as she sobbed. I stood motionless. The coffeepot dangled from my hand as he comforted his ex-flame. She fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, a little shaking blue bird, occupying the space I normally did. A ribbon of panic wended its way around my heart and gave a sharp tug as he tentatively patted her on the back.

  Um, hello! She almost lost her fiancé. Take a chill pill.

  I shook off the green monster perched on my shoulder and counseled myself to be kind. I placed the hot coffeepot on the credenza lest I spill its contents and sat down. Adrienne looked at Garrett with a gaze of gratefulness. She raked her forget-me-not blue eyes over him and her tears dissipated to mere sniffles. Garrett carefully helped her into her chair and returned to his seat next to me. He grabbed my hand from under the table and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  See? Nothing to worry about.

  “You’re lucky your ex-husband didn’t get ill when he performed CPR,” Faith Hendricks, Truman’s partner, soothed Adrienne. She motioned to Garrett and flipped open her notebook, ready to start questioning us.

  Ex-husband?!

  “Oh, they were never married,” I piped up. The correction flew out before I could clap an embarrassed hand over my mouth.

  Nice one.

  I grimaced and gave Garrett a sheepish
shrug when he raised one dark brow. I dropped his hand like a hot potato and laced my fingers together in front of me on the scarred table.

  “I’d like everyone to stay here at the B and B,” Truman counseled, mercifully taking attention away from my embarrassing gaffe.

  “You mean for the day.” Roxanne stared sullenly out the window, a veritable apparition of herself. Her blingy jewelry and teenybopper wear were gone, replaced by an oversized black sweater and plain black pants. She appeared to be in mourning for her former love Xavier, her anguish rivaled only by Adrienne’s.

  “No, I mean for the indefinite future. We’re treating Xavier’s collapse as attempted murder.”

  “But what about our honeymoon in the Maldives? You’ll be done with your investigation by then, right?” Beau stuck out a petulant bee-stung lower lip, his countrified accent forgotten, the New Jersey out in full force.

  Truman narrowed his hazel eyes, reducing them to seemingly annoyed slits. “Son, we have a murderer on the loose, and no one’s going anywhere until we figure it out.”

  “And just when will y’all get around to that?” Beau had remembered to temper his emotions this time, and his folksy twang was back. “When” came out as “way-en.” His accent switcheroos were highly disconcerting. I felt like Dakota was dating a male country star version of Sybil. “Ginger up and died almost a week ago, and you’ve made no headway, I reckon.”

  Truman drew himself up to his full six foot four inches of height and opened his mouth to rejoinder. His big belly strained the belt of his uniform. Faith cut in before he could start.

  “Believe me, we’re doing everything possible to find and prosecute Ginger Crevecoeur’s killer.” Beau’s face darkened with sadness at the reminder of Ginger, duly chastened. “Now,” Faith continued, “would you all rather be questioned here or down at the station?” She smiled her sweetest smile, her milkmaid countenance dimmed slightly by the long night she’d undoubtedly just pulled.

  The answer was resoundingly to stay at the B and B. My guests started collecting more coffee for their questioning in their rooms when my sister and Owen trudged through the snow on their way to the back kitchen door. They appeared seconds later in the breakfast room, their cheeks rosy and their faces exhilarated. Owen caught sight of Dakota’s open mouth and his smile took on a slightly sheepish cast.