“We were looking for Stanley! And he was ambling his way down the hall and—you know what?” I felt my cheeks go red. “It’s a long story. And I’ve moved on. Mostly.” I waved my hands out. “We’re all missing the point h—”
“The point is there’s no need to tell Grady,” Freddie said, jumping in.
“So nobody is trying to kill Candace after all?” Rhonda asked.
“No, someone definitely is,” Freddie said at the very same time I said, “Exactly.”
Rhonda looked down at the teacup of champagne in her hand. “Does everyone have a headache, or is it just me?”
“Listen,” Freddie said with quite the dramatic hard-done-by sigh. “We could tell Grady, but you know he won’t believe us.”
“I don’t know if I believe us!” I said, slapping my chest. This was all happening so fast. “And you said—”
“Besides,” Freddie said, ignoring me. “He’ll probably just end up arresting us again.”
“Oh please,” I drawled. “On what charges?”
“I don’t know,” Freddie snapped back, barely controlling the volume on his voice. “For being awesome in the face of the law? Does it matter?”
“But say on the off, off chance you are right,” Rhonda said with a slow nod, “and we don’t tell him”—she threw on a point—“then he’ll arrest us for sure.”
Freddie opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it again. “You may be right.”
“That’s my job,” Rhonda said, trying to hook her free thumb into her gun belt. A momentary look of confusion crossed her face as she realized she wasn’t wearing one. She really missed being a cop.
“Okay, so new plan. We need to split up. I doubt Grady and Candace are hanging out together after their brouhaha”—he threw me a pointed look—“so Rhonda, you find Candace and don’t let her die.”
“Why am I on babysitting duty?”
“Because you haven’t ever accused her of murder. We have.”
It was a long time ago, but still.
“True. True,” Rhonda answered.
“Erica and I will look for Grady and find out what has become of the glass Candace was drinking from earlier. There might be poison residue or something on it. If not, there has to be damp cloth or paper towel.”
“Good plan,” Rhonda said. “I know a retired medical examiner who does lab tests for a fee in his basement. I can hook you up.”
I frowned. “That sounds wrong on all sorts of levels.”
She smiled. “I know, right?”
“Okay,” Freddie said, clapping his hands together. “We should get moving. Candace could already be dead.”
“No, she’s not,” I said, looking over Rhonda’s shoulder. “She’s standing right over there with her sister in line at that minibar.”
“What the—” I swear if Freddie was wearing a hat, he would have taken it off and swatted me with it.
“Rhonda! Go! Go! Go!”
“Right,” she said, before quickly adding, “What reason am I supposed to give her for not letting her eat or drink?”
“Tell her the truth,” I said. “Freddie is crazy.”
“No, not the truth! We can’t tell her that someone really is trying to kill her on New Year’s,” Freddie said. “That’s so mean. What’s wrong with you?”
I frowned. “But aren’t we trying to save her life? Isn’t that why we’re doing this?” I was really having trouble remembering why we were doing this. I think Freddie was losing sight too. It wouldn’t be the first time we had gotten carried away, and we usually had more to go on.
“It is too early in the investigation to make any conclusions.”
“So did we decide what I’m going to say to Candace?” Rhonda asked.
“I don’t know!” Freddie said. “I can’t do everything. Just go. You’ll think of something.”
Freddie and I watched Rhonda hurry off in her sailor’s uniform. She reached Candace just as she was accepting a drink from the bartender. Rhonda slapped it out of her hand, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Okay, well, I guess that will work,” I said.
“Now, where’s Grady?” Freddie asked. “Use your Gray-dar.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have any Gray-dar. It’s not like I just instinctually know at any given moment where—Oh! There he is!” I said, pointing over at the other side of the ballroom. “By the grand piano.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Erica,” a voice called out from behind me.
What now?
Oh.
“Freddie, you go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”
“What?”
I pushed him on. “I’ll catch up. This is important.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Important?” Freddie asked. “What could possibly be more important than this?”
Mrs. Arthur was waving at me. The same Mrs. Arthur who might be selling the property I wanted to buy. Mr. Arthur was there too. I waved back. “This will just take a second.”
“But we’ve got an attempted-murder investigation on the go.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Oh crap! Grady’s on the move.”
“You go,” I said, waving him on again. Truth was, I was grateful for the opportunity to avoid Grady for a little longer. I wasn’t ready to see him what with the whole “we were not meant to be” thing still rattling around in my head.
“Fine, but hurry up!”
Freddie rushed away as I maneuvered around a group of short, older men wearing fezzes. The Shriners were in Otter Lake? This party sure had a weird mix of guests.
Now I had to play this just right. I didn’t really know Nanette and Gerald Arthur. In fact, I don’t think I had even spoken to them directly. I knew of them though. They had left the rat race in New York to live a minimalist existence off the grid in New Hampshire, and they were friendly with my mother—similar philosophies toward life. If I had to guess, they were probably in their mid to late forties, but both were in great shape. Nanette had her hair styled into a cute glossy bob that made a V-shape on her forehead, and Gerald had his hair slicked back and was sporting quite the dapper monocle. They were really going for it.
Nanette held out her gloved hand. “Erica, hello. Sorry to interrupt, but Matthew said you wanted to speak to us, and there are so many people here tonight”—she gave her head a bewildered little shake—“it’s difficult to find anyone in this crowd.”
“No, absolutely. Thank you for calling me over. I did want to speak to you. Matthew mentioned that you two might be thinking of selling—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Gerald said, fiddling with his monocle. “We know what it is you’re hoping for, but I’m afraid we can’t help you.”
“Oh,” I said, shoulders slumping. “So you’re not moving after all?”
Nanette smiled sympathetically. “Well, we are, but…”
I sighed. “MRG has already made you an offer.”
“Candace is very persuasive,” she said, looking to her husband. “Gerald and I just wanted you to know that we really are sorry. We’d much rather sell to you, it’s just…”
“It’s okay. Really,” I said, not really meaning that at all.
She tucked the sides of her V-shaped bob behind her ears with her gloved fingers. “It’s not. We know everybody hates what MRG is doing to this town, and yet…”
“They haven’t really left anybody any other choice,” I offered. Deep pockets could do that.
She gave me another pained smile. “Besides, despite the work we’ve put into it, our place still needs a lot of upgrading. Living off the grid isn’t for everyone.”
“It’s exhausting really. You have to be really resourceful,” Gerald added with a nod. “Up for anything. You know, be able to think on your feet.”
Obviously he had never had a best friend like Freddie. “Well, thank you for letting me know,” I said, trying really hard not to look quite so much like I was five, and
they had just popped my balloon. “I wouldn’t have wanted to get my hopes up.” I didn’t carry that line off at all. “I have to go meet up with my friend,” I said, pointing in the direction Freddie had scurried off to. “So thanks again.”
The couple exchanged another concerned look, before Nanette added, “There’s just one more thing we wanted to talk to you about, Erica.”
Gerald jumped in. “It’s really none of our business, but—”
“We think very highly of your mother,” Nanette continued, “and…”
They both fell silent.
I frowned as a cold feeling crept over me. Why were these people I barely knew looking at me like my dog had just died. Oh! Bad thought. Sorry, Stanley. “And what?”
“You know what?” Gerald said, patting his wife’s arm. “It really isn’t our business. You know how rumors get spread in this town. Have a nice night, Erica.”
His wife nodded. “Sorry we couldn’t have given you better news.”
I opened my mouth to say something, I guess to stop them, but they had made a beeline away from me.
Well, what the heck was that all about?
I blinked a few times then looked around the room.
Okay, call me paranoid. But suddenly it seemed like a lot of people were looking in my direction. Far more than would be possible by chance. Something was going on here. Over the years I had developed a special talent for knowing when I was at the center of town gossip.
My eyes trailed around the room again.
No, I wasn’t imagining it. A number of people were giving me sideways looks and whispering.
I did not like this at all.
Okay, yes, I had promised Freddie I’d meet him ASAP. And I would. In a minute. But I needed to find out what was going on first.
And I knew just who to ask.
I looked over to the club chairs by the ferns. Still empty. Hmm, maybe these looks had something to do with Grady and Candace breaking up? But that didn’t explain the Arthurs’ nervousness. It was almost like they wanted to warn me about something.
Yup, the case of the poisoned dog would have to wait.
I scanned the crowd some more.
Aha! Got ’em.
Blackjack table three o’clock.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hit me.”
I poked the shoulder of one of my pseudoaunts.
“Erica! Finally,” Tweety said, whacking her sister’s arm.
Kit Kat grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me closer to the table. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We lost Freddie’s dog. We’ve looked for him everywhere.”
“Really?” I asked, eyeing the drinks and cards on the table in front of them, and the handsome dealer standing behind it. “Because it kind of looks like you’ve been busy playing blackjack.”
“Hey, this is a great spot,” Tweety said. “You can see the entire room from here. We knew you’d turn up. And we’ve got information you’re going to want to hear.” Her eyes snapped away from me to the dealer. “I said hit me, Carl.”
Carl flipped the king of hearts onto Tweety’s nine and three.
“Aw, busted.” She looked back to me. “Now what was I saying?”
“You’ve got information for me? Maybe what you were trying to tell me earlier about Candace and Grady?”
“Oh, we are way beyond that now,” she said. “You tell her, Kit.”
“Hang on. Hang on,” Kit Kat said, eyes glued to the cards on the green felt table. “Hit me.”
“Hit me?” her sister yelled. “You’ve got sixteen. You don’t hit on—”
“Twenty-one! Blackjack!” Carl called out.
“Boom!” Kit Kat yelled, smacking the table.
“She’s counting cards again,” Tweety said. “I knew it. She’s—”
“Relax,” I said. “You know the money you spent on chips is going to charity, right? Children’s hospital?” Or maybe it was the new roof for the rec center.
“Who told you that?” Kit Kat asked, pointing at me with her cigar.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I think it’s just like known.”
The twins looked at Carl. The handsome young dealer arranging chips peeked up at them.
“Is this true?” Kit Kat asked, turning her cigar on him.
He shrugged apologetically.
“Well, son of a—”
I waved my hands out. “All right. All right. Never mind all that. We need to talk.”
“Take five, kid,” Tweety said, cigar pinned in the corner of her mouth. They’d better be careful not to let my mother catch them smoking those things. She had taken on as her personal mission to cure the sisters of their diabetes and improve their health in general.
Once Carl was gone, I said, “So what’s going on? Please tell me you know what, uh—” I looked behind me back out over the room. Yup, people were still looking at me while trying to look like they weren’t looking at me. “Why is everybody looking at me?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Told ya she didn’t know.”
“Don’t tell me word has already gotten around that Freddie thinks someone poisoned his dog?”
The twins exchanged looks and asked an identical, “What?”
I sighed. “Freddie’s got it in his head that someone is trying to poison Candace and got his dog instead,” I answered. “It’s crazy. It’s—”
“Well, you’d better quash that rumor real quick,” Kit Kat said.
“Yeah,” Tweety added. “Otherwise people might start to think…”
They exchanged another look.
“What will be people be thinking?”
“Well, that Grady is trying—” Kit Kat cut herself off by chewing her lip. They were both eyeing me carefully like I might blow.
“Trying to what?”
They both winced, features nearly disappearing in the folds of their wrinkles.
“Trying to what?”
“Well, there’s this crazy rumor that—”
“Grady might be trying to kill his girlfriend.”
Chapter Sixteen
“What? That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone think that?”
Kit Kat scratched the side of her forehead with the pinkie finger of her cigar hand. “Well, we tried to tell you earlier about all the scuttlebutt around town this week. And it seems there’s been a development.”
“What scuttlebutt?” I asked, looking back and forth between them. “What development?”
The twins looked nervous. “Well, you know all the gossip about Grady and Candace?”
“No, I really don’t know.”
“I thought you of all people would know what’s going on,” Kit Kat said.
“Just tell me!” Then a horrible thought occurred to me. What if they said Grady and Candace were getting married? No … surely I would have noticed a ring on Candace’s finger. And what about their brouhaha earlier? Not that it was any of my business, because we weren’t meant to be. But what if they—
“They’re breaking up.”
“Oh, thank God,” I said before I could help myself.
The twins chuckled.
“Tell us how you really feel,” Tweety said, picking up her tumbler and taking a sip.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Kit Kat said again.
“Well, I can’t believe you two didn’t tell me!”
Tweety shrugged. “You’re always over at Freddie’s.”
“You could have texted me. I know you know how to text.” The twins had somehow discovered adult emojis and thought it was hilarious to send me barrages of them at weird hours of the day.
“Yeah,” Tweety said, shooting her sister a look. “Truth was, we didn’t know how you would react.”
“How I would react?” I asked, really confused. It’s not exactly like my feelings for Grady were a secret in this town. Nothing was a secret in this town … unless you were me! “Are people blaming me?” I gasped. “Are they saying Grady’s s
till in love with me? Is that why he’s breaking up with her?” In all honesty, I would have never been so happy to be hated in my life … or at least that’s how I would have felt if I hadn’t moved on.
“Yeah, no,” Tweety said. “That’s not it.”
Dammit.
“And for the record, it’s Candace who’s breaking up with Grady.”
“Tonight,” Kit Kat jumped in. “If you believe the rumors.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she do that? At a party of all places?”
“Yeah, that’s the crazy part.”
I waited. I was getting pretty tired of prodding these two for information.
“Apparently.” Kit Kat paused to take a deep breath. “It’s because she’s afraid of how he’s going to react. She wants lots of people around. Everybody to know. In case he’s thinking of doing something crazy.”
I blinked. “Come on.”
They just looked at me.
“You can’t be serious.”
Kit Kat shrugged.
I once again looked back and forth between the two of them. They weren’t kidding. “Nobody’s going to believe that. I mean, Grady’s … Grady.”
“Hey, you don’t have to tell us,” Kit Kat said. “I’m just saying it’s the rumor.”
Tweety frowned. “And now you’re saying someone is trying to poison Candace. People will have a field day with that.”
“I’m not saying that. Freddie’s saying that because he’s upset about his dog.” I did not like this at all. Okay, I mean, fine, Freddie and I were occasionally prone to flights of fancy, but this could not be one of those times. I needed to shut this down now.
“Well then, you had better stop him from spreading it around,” Tweety said. “You of all people know how rumors can get out of control in this town.”
Kit Kat nodded. “And let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Okay, I gotta go. You two behave yourselves,” I said, pointing at them both.
Tweety snorted. “Yeah, ’cause we’re the duo that’s going to get out of control.”
* * *
I hurried back to the hallway that led to the conservatory. I got a text from Freddie saying to meet him there. I almost texted Grady to join us, but I needed to think on how to tell him about all of this. He’d be really hurt if he knew what people were saying. But maybe it was better if he got a heads-up from me? No, I couldn’t do it. I’d talk to Candace first. That seemed like a better idea. Maybe she could kill all this gossip before it reached Grady. I couldn’t help but think that all the rumors about the threatening letter had somehow morphed into this accusation against Grady—kind of like a game of broken telephone. Candace could clear this all up. Yeah, I’d talk to her—once I got Freddie back on the leash.
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