by Sofie Kelly
It was close to an hour before the majority of the people were gone. I reached back and pulled the pins from my hair and gave my head a shake. My feet hurt and my shoulders ached.
Rebecca came over to me. She and Everett had stayed, talking to people, trying to do a little damage control.
“How are you?” she asked, giving me a half smile filled with warmth.
“I’m all right,” I said, pulling out a stray bobby pin. “You and Everett didn’t have to stay, but it helped. Thank you.”
She reached out and laid her hand against my cheek for a moment. “I’m sorry this happened, Kathleen.”
I swallowed hard. “I just hope Olivia is all right,” I said.
Rebecca nodded. “I do, too, dear.” If she’d noticed that I hadn’t said anything about Dayna, she let it pass.
“Everett and I are going to leave now, unless there’s anything else we could do for you.” She looked over her shoulder to where Everett was standing, talking to Vincent Starr. “We’re taking Vincent over to the St. James for a nightcap.”
“Thank you,” I said. I’d talked to Vincent, briefly. He’d been very gracious. “Would you tell Everett I’ll call him in the morning? We need to work on a plan for refunding everyone’s money.”
Rebecca sighed softly. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Absolutely. People paid for a full night of desserts and jazz, not this. I can’t keep their money.”
“I’ll tell him.” She leaned over and gave me a hug. “Things will work out, Kathleen,” she said.
I nodded. I didn’t want to think about what kind of setback this was for the Reading Buddies program right now. The morning would be soon enough. I gave Rebecca a smile I didn’t really feel. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she said. “How could I forget?” She gave my arm one last squeeze and walked back over to Everett.
I watched them leave, and then I walked over to Marcus. His tie was askew, his sleeves were rolled back and he’d raked his hands through his hair at least half a dozen times in the past hour.
“Hey, you must be tired.” He managed a small smile.
“I wouldn’t mind taking these shoes off,” I said. I wasn’t used to spending so much time in high heels.
“You still look beautiful,” he said in a low voice.
I smiled at him and mouthed a thank-you.
“I’m going to be a while.”
I knew I couldn’t walk up the hill in those heels on the snowy sidewalks. “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll get a ride with someone.”
“How about me?” Maggie said from behind me.
I turned around. “You don’t mind?” I asked.
She shook her head and then held up a small cardboard box. “Georgia gave me some cupcakes.”
I would have said I wasn’t hungry, but then my stomach growled loudly and I realized I was.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Maggie said.
I nodded. “Yes.” I looked at Marcus. “Call me when you’re done. I don’t care how late it is.”
“I will,” he said. He looked at Maggie. “Thanks.”
She nodded and put an arm around my shoulders. We got our coats from the coatroom and Oren let us out the front doors.
“I’m sorry about . . . everything, Kathleen,” he said.
I pulled the collar of my coat up around my face. “Me too.”
It was bitingly cold outside. The clouds were rolling in over the water. That usually meant snow. I ran my gloved hand over my wrist. Once again it seemed to be right about the weather.
Maggie’s Bug was in the parking lot. She brushed away a bit of snow that had blown onto the windshield, and then we both got in.
I leaned back against the seat, shut my eyes and exhaled loudly. Then I opened them again and turned my head to look at Maggie.
“I’m sorry, Mags,” I said.
She frowned. “Why are you apologizing to me?”
“You and Ruby did such a wonderful job and people barely had time to enjoy all your work.”
“What happened to Dayna Chapman—and Olivia—was a terrible accident, Kath,” she said, sticking the key in the ignition. “That’s all.”
She backed out of the parking spot and turned around in the almost empty lot. “Did I ever tell you that I was on the decorating committee for the homecoming dance in high school? It was the first time I ever decorated anything.”
“No,” I said.
“At least tonight no one threw up over the bridge all over a palm tree.”
“Stop trying to make me laugh,” I said, even as I was doing it.
She grinned and shot me a sideways look as she pulled out of the lot. “Reading Buddies is a great program,” she said. “We’ll find some other way to get the money you need. Maybe you can get another grant.”
The reading program had started with a grant. Maybe there was some money I’d missed, something else we could apply for.
“Dayna Chapman’s dead, isn’t she?” Maggie asked, her eyes glued to the road.
“I think so,” I said.
“May she be welcomed by the light,” Mags said softly.
“Do you think Olivia will be all right?” she asked after a moment.
I rolled my head slowly from one shoulder to the other, trying to work the knots out of my neck. “I think so. Her reaction seemed less severe than Dayna’s.”
“Was it Olivia’s chocolates?” Maggie asked as we turned up Mountain Road.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I know it looks that way, but it could have been anything Dayna ate at the theater—or maybe something she’d brought with her.”
Maggie sighed softly. “I feel bad for Brady and his brothers—and for Burtis.”
“What’s going on with you and Brady?” I asked. I remembered how Brady had looked at Maggie after Marcus told him to go to the hospital. And how she’d brushed his hand when she urged him to go.
“We’re just friends,” Maggie said as she pulled into my driveway. She looked over at me as she turned off the engine. “Really. That’s all it is.”
I got out of the car and we started around the side of the house. “I didn’t know you and Brady knew each other,” I said.
“He did some legal work for Ruby. Then he offered to look at the paperwork for the co-op’s grant application.”
Maggie had applied for and gotten a grant to start an artist-in-residence program at the artists’ co-op store.
I unlocked the back door and she followed me into the porch. “We’ve had lunch a couple of times, but that’s it. There’s nothing going on.”
I’d seen how they looked at each other. There was definitely something happening between Maggie and Brady Chapman, even if they couldn’t see it or admit it yet.
We stepped into the kitchen and discovered Owen waiting just inside the door.
“Hey, Fuzz Face,” Maggie said, leaning down to him, hands in her pockets. Owen’s golden eyes narrowed as he looked up at her and he began to purr.
Owen adored Maggie. He would have been the perfect guy for her, if he’d been a person instead of a small gray cat.
I stepped out of my heels and tossed my coat and scarf over the back of a chair. While Maggie talked to Owen I washed my hands and started hot chocolate for both of us.
Hercules wandered in from whatever he’d been doing. He looked at Maggie and Owen and then looked at me and his expression seemed just a bit amused.
I leaned down to scratch the top of his head. “How was your night?” He gave a small “murp” that I knew meant “fine.” Then he tipped his head and studied me for a moment before meowing softly.
“Long story,” I said quietly as I straightened up. “I’ll tell you later.”
I got a plate for the cupcakes, put our cocoa on the table and sat down. Maggie peeled off her coat and took the chair opposite me, her furry boyfriend sitting adoringly at her feet.
I reached for a D
eath by Chocolate cupcake. I could see the irony, but I was tired and not eating a cupcake wasn’t going to change what had happened.
“Ruby and I will get everything cleaned up in the morning,” Maggie said, peeling the paper liner off her Maple Crème cupcake.
“You don’t have to do that, Mags,” I said.
She smiled. “I know that, but it’s okay. I have my own little cleanup crew already put together.”
I smiled back at her across the table. “What would I do without you?”
“Merow!” Owen seconded his agreement loudly from his station by her chair.
Maggie laughed, and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders begin to melt away. “Well, lucky for you”—she leaned down to make a smiley face at the cat—“and you, since the new contract with the library board has been signed, neither one of you will be finding out anytime soon.”
It had taken me a long time to decide whether or not to continue as head librarian here in Mayville Heights or go back to the life I’d left behind in Boston. I’d been originally hired on a short-term contract to supervise the renovations to the library for its centennial. Maggie hadn’t exactly been silent or subtle about what she thought I should do. In the end, I’d decided to stay because the little town had become my home. Maggie was here, and Roma and Rebecca, the Taylors and Susan and Eric.
Marcus was here.
I’d discovered that I didn’t need to go home. I already was home.
“We’re still going out to Wisteria Hill on Saturday to help Roma paint, aren’t we?” Maggie asked, breaking her cupcake into three pieces. She moved her hand casually down to her side and dropped a tiny bite of her cupcake on the floor for Owen.
I should have objected—Roma had been very clear about not feeding things like that to the boys—but Owen had sniffed the bit of cake and starting licking the frosting before I opened my mouth.
“As far as I know, that’s what Roma’s planning,” I said. “Eddie’s on the road.”
Roma’s boyfriend, Eddie, aka Crazy Eddie Sweeney, played for the NHL’s Minnesota Wild.
Maggie licked a dab of maple icing from the side of her thumb. “So, the three of us can put our heads together while we’re working and come up with another way to keep the Reading Buddies program going.”
Mags and Roma had helped me work out the details for the fundraiser at this table, I remembered, over a Crock-Pot of beef stew and dumplings, with a furry four-legged Greek chorus in the background.
“All right,” I said, leaning back in my chair, my hands wrapped around the warmth of my mug of hot chocolate. “But the dunking booth is still off the table.”
Maggie looked down at Owen again, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, but that was our best idea, wasn’t it, Fuzz Face?” she said.
“Meow!” he said, again with great enthusiasm.
Hercules rubbed against my leg. I lifted him up onto my lap.
“They think they’re funny,” I said. He made a face, which as far as I was concerned meant he disagreed.
Hercules leaned back against my chest and I stroked his fur with one hand and held my hot chocolate with the other.
I knew Maggie and Roma would help me figure out how to find the money to keep the reading program going. And I also knew that Marcus would figure out what Dayna had eaten that had caused that allergic reaction. Maybe it hadn’t been the chocolate truffles. Maybe it hadn’t been something at the reception at all. Olivia had been adamant that there were no nuts in her chocolates.
I still felt unsettled, though. I couldn’t banish the image of Dayna struggling to breathe, lips rimmed with blue, wheezing and gasping and trying to tell me how much she wanted to live. I couldn’t help wondering why she’d been at the party and why she’d come back to Mayville Heights at all.
5
I had an early breakfast with Vincent Starr in the morning at the St. James Hotel. It had already been planned and I didn’t see any reason to cancel. He was already seated in the dining room at a table that looked out over the Riverwalk.
He got to his feet and pulled out a chair for me. “How are you, Kathleen?” he asked with genuine concern in his dark eyes. “I’m so sorry about what happened last night. I heard that one of the women didn’t make it.”
I nodded as I sat down. “Sadly, that’s true.”
Dayna Chapman was dead, most likely from anaphylaxis. Olivia was going to be fine. The medical examiner’s office was investigating, but so far, no one had any idea what Dayna had eaten that had triggered the allergic reaction.
“If you’d like to cancel your talk this morning and head back to Minneapolis, I understand,” I continued. “Last night was unsettling for everybody.”
Vincent shook his head and stretched his arm along the back of his chair, resting his hand on the empty one next to him.
“It wouldn’t change anything, Kathleen,” he said. “That unfortunate woman would still be dead. Maybe this morning will be a bit of a distraction for people.”
I felt a little of the tension in my shoulders ease. “Thank you,” I said. The waitress arrived then with coffee and Vincent began quizzing her about how the hotel’s eggs Benedict was made.
We talked about the exhibit Vincent was curating for the art museum over breakfast and I left him nursing his third cup of coffee and charming the waitresses.
* * *
Abigail pulled in right behind me at the library.
I turned off the alarm and the two of us went inside. She headed for the stairs and I followed. I put my things in my office and found her in the staff room, starting the coffee.
“So it’s going to be one of those days,” I said, getting the mugs down out of the cupboard.
Abigail leaned back against the counter. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” she said. “I kept seeing Dayna Chapman struggling to breathe. I couldn’t seem to stop it from playing over and over like some kind of endless movie loop.”
“I know,” I said, setting the mugs on the table. “It almost doesn’t feel real.”
“Kathleen, do you think it was the chocolates?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Olivia was pretty insistent that she didn’t use pistachios or any other kind of nuts in those truffles.”
“That’s because she’s allergic to cashews,” Abigail said. “People who are allergic to one kind of nut sometimes react to other nuts as well.”
“How did you know Olivia has a nut allergy?” I asked, turning to get the coffee cream out of the refrigerator.
“She shares the kitchen space with the Earl of Sandwich and Sweet Thing. Remember? Georgia told me that before Olivia rented space to her for her cupcakes, she told her there couldn’t be any nuts in the kitchen. If she wants to make anything with nuts, she does it at Fern’s.”
Abigail poured me a cup of coffee, got one for herself and sat down at the table.
I pulled out a chair. “So, how do you explain what happened to Olivia when she bit into that chocolate from Dana’s box? She definitely had a reaction.”
Abigail poured a little cream into her coffee. “I know, but it doesn’t make any sense. If Olivia had used nuts in the truffles, why lie about it? It’s easy enough to check. And why would she eat one and put herself at risk?”
I added sugar to my cup and stirred it slowly. “You’re right,” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
None of what little information I had with respect to Dayna Chapman made any sense. Maybe that was why I couldn’t shake that unsettled feeling.
I pictured the woman, collapsing into my arms, unable to breathe, looking wide-eyed at the tiny box of chocolates in her hand before it fell to the floor. I didn’t see how it could be anything other than those chocolate truffles that had caused Dayna to go into anaphylactic shock. If Olivia hadn’t used any nuts when she made them, could someone else have accidentally contaminated them?
“Abigail, who packed the chocolates into all of the boxes?” I asked.
“Olivia did,”
she said. She turned her cup in tiny circles on the table. “Nic dropped off all the boxes and Olivia packed every single one of them. And in case you’re wondering, yes, she wore gloves.”
“So the chocolates couldn’t have accidentally come in contact with any nuts while they were being packed?”
Abigail made a move as though she was going to flip her braid over her shoulder and then caught herself. She smiled sheepishly at me. “Old habits,” she said.
She took a sip of her coffee and set the cup down again. “I don’t see any way there could have been any cross contamination during the packing. The kitchen was spotless and I didn’t see any sign of any nuts. And, Kathleen, I tried all three of the truffles—Chocolate Raspberry, Dark Chocolate and Crème Maple. For what it’s worth, I didn’t taste any nuts, either.”
I nodded. “Okay, so what happened after Olivia filled the boxes?”
“I packed them back into the cartons and took them over to the theater. The boxes were locked in the front office until it was time to set them out. I can promise you that I washed my hands, and I didn’t touch anything except the outside of the cardboard boxes.”
I leaned against the back of my chair. “So there was no way the chocolates could have been contaminated during the packing. That just leaves the time they were in the office over at the Stratton.”
Abigail brushed a bit of lint off the front of her dark green sweater. “Oh, c’mon, Kathleen. Why on earth would someone sneak into that office and contaminate the chocolates? First of all, what did this mysterious person do? Take a handful of pistachio nuts and rub them all over every chocolate, or just a random selection? Why? What would that person gain? Other than ruining the fundraiser, what would be the point? And who would want to do that? Everyone thinks Reading Buddies is a good idea.”
She continued to play with her coffee cup, tracing the design on the side with a finger. “It couldn’t have been someone who wanted to hurt Dayna. How many people would have known that she was going to be at the reception last night? She just arrived in town yesterday afternoon, from what I heard.” She shook her head. “This makes no sense at all.”
“Eliminate the impossible and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” I said softly, more to myself than to Abigail.
