by Lora Roberts
“So you think there was something in the glass, something Naomi put in it?”
“When she knocked over her drink, that made me wonder. I mean, I could tell she knocked it over on purpose, and I thought it was just to be devilish.”
She stopped, and I nodded encouragement. “She could be very devilish.”
“You know she went and got a fresh glass of water while we were cleaning up. When she set down the new drink on the coffee table, I realized she’d switched them so Hannah would get her glass.”
She stopped. I waited a moment. “Did you think she was trying to play a trick on Hannah?”
She leaned closer to me. “That’s exactly what I thought! That’s what anyone would think, right? I figured she had put something in the glass to give Hannah the runs or make her feel awful. I never dreamed she wanted to kill Hannah. I didn’t believe that about my uncle, you see. We all knew he had a heart attack. No one ever had the least suspicion, and when Hannah said it, I just put it down to them being angry, like Naomi saying Hannah killed her husband with bad mushrooms.”
“So you assumed Naomi wanted Hannah to get humiliatingly sick or something.”
“Right.” Kim’s voice was shaking. “So I just—pushed her glass closer to her.”
“And Naomi didn’t notice? You’d think she’d keep a sharp eye on the poison.”
Kim shook her head. “She was ranting at Hannah. I was even …“ She shuddered. I could sense the movement from where I stood. I longed to put my arm around her. “I was even giggling inside to think that it would be Naomi with the runs, not Hannah. After all, we needed Hannah to be able to do her job, but Naomi was just being trouble.”
She caught her breath. “Oh, God, how can I talk about her like that? My own aunt. And I killed her!”
“You didn’t kill her.” I did move that time, and put a hand on Kim’s arm. She didn’t flinch. “She killed herself with her own wickedness. If she hadn’t put poison in that glass, nothing would have happened.”
“But why didn’t I just take it and pour it out? Why didn’t I stop it?”
Kim put back her head and wailed. “It’s on my hands. Her death is on my hands!”
I grabbed her arm, but she surged upward, nearly dislocating my shoulder. “Kim, you can’t take this on yourself. Truly, it belongs on Naomi’s plate and no other. The harm she would have done to another, she did to herself.”
Kim didn’t hear me. She stood, her legs braced against the railing, her head lifted to the sky. “It was my fault. None of this would have happened if not for me!”
I grabbed her legs and held on. “Kim, please. Don’t do this. Your family will be so upset.”
“My family.” Kim let a hysterical giggle go. “My mom would be horrified to know what I did. It will all come out. She’ll be so humiliated by my behavior. I can’t face them. I can’t tell them what I’ve done.”
Her leg muscles tensed. I knew she would jump. I held on for all I was worth.
“I’m not going to let you go, Kim. You’ll have to take me with you. Is that what you want?”
“Let go. I don’t want to hurt you too, Liz.” She twisted, and I felt her overbalance. She screamed. My heart nearly stopped.
I pulled back as hard as I could, trying to counteract the force of her impetus. At that moment, I felt that she wanted to claw her way back, but her center of gravity was too far out. I tightened my grip on her legs, fighting her own panic and uncertainty. Every move she made counteracted what I was trying to do. I shouted for help, wondering why none of the people in the room behind us was coming to my aid.
“Kim.” It was Don’s voice. He might have been lanky, but he was strong. He reached over my head, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her down.
She clung to him, sobbing.
“I can’t afford to lose any more of my new relatives,” he said to her, cradling her in his arms.
“But it was my fault. I killed her, Don. I killed your mother. You never got to know her because of me.” Kim cried uncontrollably, her breath coming in hiccuping sobs.
Don smoothed the hair off her face. “I heard what you said. My birth mother was a deeply unhappy woman. It’s enough that she committed suicide. You shouldn’t make it worse by doing that too.”
He carried her inside, and I followed. My teeth were chattering like castanets; I shivered uncontrollably. It would be good to get out of the cold, foggy night, and into the warmth.
Chapter 21
My arms began to ache before I’d finished the restorative cup of tea Drake insisted I drink. I had exerted myself beyond my normal strength to try and pull Kim away from the railing, and I would feel it for a few days.
Kim was having a cup of tea too. I only knew that because Hannah herself had carried it to Kim’s bedroom, where Scarlatti and Daly were taking her statement. We had finished with the group stuff; I suppose it had served its purpose, though it was hard to say what. If they had concentrated on Kim, taken her off by herself, would she not have broken down and admitted her part in the death of her aunt without feeling obliged to toss herself from the top floor of the hotel? I thought she would. But this way had gotten results too, at the expense of some very anxious moments.
“When will you stop putting yourself out there like that, woman?” Drake poured more sugar in my tea.
“It’s undrinkable already,” I protested.
“You need the sugar for shock.” His fierce expression might not be interpreted by others as loving concern, but I chose to interpret it that way.
Bruno nodded. “Paolo is right. You worry your friends when you take such risks. Drink your tea.”
We were back in our places on the couch. Hannah was in the kitchen, redeeming her reputation as domestic goddess by heating up the soup. Its savory aroma made me remember that I’d had nothing to eat since the cheese and crackers Bridget had served. Well, a few of her cookies as well. But that had been hours ago. It was nearly nine, and we still weren’t finished.
“What’s next?” Don sat across from us, his face creased with worry. “Will they arrest Kim?”
“They could,” Drake said reluctantly, “because she withheld information in a murder investigation. But I doubt they will.”
“And Richard Kendall is in there,” I added. “He’ll keep them at bay.”
We had all been surprised when Hannah had offered the services of her attorney to Kim. But it was only fair. Hannah must have been feeling the breeze from the wings of the angel of death. If not for Kim, Hannah would be dead instead of Naomi.
That knowledge seemed to have shaken her. But she dealt with it by bustling around the kitchen, a response I understood, because Bridget reacted the same way to stress.
Don still looked worried. “It’s not like she meant to hurt anyone,” he argued, though there was no use arguing with us—we were already converted.
“They’ll take that into account. If they decide to declare it accidental death, or death by misadventure, there’ll be no repercussions for Kim. Otherwise, she might have to be arraigned on a charge of involuntary manslaughter, but a good lawyer could probably get that dismissed or commuted.”
Don plowed his fingers through his hair. “Poor Kim. She’s so overcome by it. Doesn’t seem fair that such a harmless thing should have such long-range consequences.”
“She’ll be okay. She’ll get over it,” Drake said. “She’s young. Once she gets back home with her folks, it’ll fade. After all, Naomi more than likely did cause her brother’s death, and the whole family will probably have a harder time forgiving that than forgiving what Kim did.”
“What about you?” I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I was curious about Don’s reaction to his newfound family. “Will you go back to Massachusetts and meet them?”
“I don’t know.” He looked uneasy. “Given what Naomi did, it’s no great recommendation to be her son, is it?”
“If Kim is any example of that family, I think you can count on a warm welcome.” I smile
d at him over the cup of too-sweet tea. “She’s really something special.”
“Yeah. Maybe Naomi was the anomaly, not the norm.” He brightened a little. Then his smile faded. “Do you think they’ll investigate Kim’s uncle’s death now? I don’t really want my birth mother branded a murderer, even if she deserved it.”
“Probably not.” Drake looked at Bruno.
“I would not think so, though of course it is not my jurisdiction,” Bruno said thoughtfully. “It is all hearsay, isn’t it? Naomi is dead, and the body of her supposed victim has been cremated. There is no proof. Why go to the trouble and expense of investigating that?”
“I’m wondering what poison she used.” I set the tea down, hoping to distract Drake from my failure to drink it.
Bruno shrugged. “Without tissue samples and stomach contents, it is difficult to say. But tell me, do you know if she had cats or dogs, or any kind of pet?”
“Sheesh, I don’t know.”
Don spoke up. “She did have cats. She called from the airport to talk to them on her answering machine.”
“Oh, right. She did that here too.” I looked at Bruno curiously. “Why? Should we let someone know to take care of them?”
“I would bet that Kim will soon be caring for her aunt’s cats,” Bruno said. “But I ask because it is possible to use certain flea repellents as a poison, if you know how to do it.”
“And she did have a degree in chemistry, let’s remember.”
Don leaned forward. “So you think she used flea repellent?”
“Only certain kinds work.” Bruno smiled. “And I will not tell you what kinds, in case you become homicidal, Don. But given the way in which her death occurred, it seems likely to me.”
“Bruno’s the toxicologist,” Drake said. “He just took a couple of courses, didn’t you, my man?”
“I have studied a little.” Bruno waved away Drake’s words. “It is not possible to be a toxicologist without much more study than I have done, Paolo.”
“Incredible.” Don shook his head. “That she would plan to do such things. It makes me even more grateful for the way I was raised by my adoptive mom. We were poor, but she gave me everything I needed.”
“You were lucky then.” I pushed the cup of tea farther away on the table when I leaned forward to pat Don’s hand.
“I didn’t always know it.” He looked down at his hands. “I made trouble when I was a teenager. Was sure that because I was adopted, no one loved me. Didn’t help that my dad—my adoptive dad—bailed on us a couple of years before that.” His hands clenched, and he looked up, staring at us with deep gray eyes—Naomi’s eyes, I suddenly realized. “By God, no kid of mine will ever have to wonder if his dad loves him.”
“Then your children will be lucky.” Drake stood and clapped Don on the shoulder. “That soup is making me hungry. What say we go see if we can get some?”
“Good idea.” I started to get up too.
“Not you, mate.” Drake pushed me back onto the couch. “You’re staying right here. You’re not moving an inch, no matter if you see Godzilla rampaging through the streets of San Francisco. Did you get a sandwich earlier?”
“I got no food at all.” I made my voice as plaintive as possible. “And I’m very hungry.”
“I’ll be glad to serve you, milady.” He treated me to a grin. “And while you wait, you can finish that tea.”
I enjoyed the feeling of being cherished. I didn’t actually want to be treated that way most of the time; I like my independence, standing on my own two feet, beholden to no one. But danger and stress affect each of us differently. It had made Don unnaturally loquacious. It threatened to turn me into a marshmallow of a woman who had to be pampered and waited on. I wondered how soon it would pass, and who would tire of it first—Drake or me.
Bruno said, “The tea, Liz.”
I jumped. “Thought you went with the soup brigade.”
“They will not need me.” He leaned closer. “So you and Paolo have fixed things?”
I didn’t pretend not to understand him. “I’m not sure. I think we still have some hammering out to do. His reaction this afternoon was totally over the top. I can’t deal with that.”
“He cares very much, and his way of expressing it is to yell.”
“I don’t like yelling.”
Bruno shrugged. “In any lasting relationship, there will be times of anger. It’s not whether you get angry at each other that matters. It’s how you work through it, and whether you let it drive a wedge between you.”
“So are you taking classes in marriage counseling as well?”
He looked abashed. “Not exactly. I speak from experience, you understand. Lucy is a counselor, and she has told me some of it. But also, we have been married for over fifteen years. In that time, we have learned something about how to handle the other person.”
I wasn’t really comfortable talking about this with a man who wasn’t Drake. But at the same time, Bruno knew his work partner probably better than anyone else, including me. “Bruno, there are things I just can’t accept from any man, and one of them is this overbearing male behavior. It sets up very unpleasant echoes for me.”
“And yet you accept Paolo’s concern, and that he expresses it by ordering you to wait to be served, by trying to make you take things easy. It is his nature to show his care this way.”
“I know. But it’s my nature to find that difficult to be around.”
Bruno looked troubled. “You will find a way to compromise. You must, because each of you is completed by the other one.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. “What ever makes you say that?”
“It is true.” He shrugged. “I have known it since soon after he met you. He has known it for nearly that long. You, I think, struggle against the knowledge. Perhaps you could have gone through life without him, never missing what he could bring to you. But now, I think, you begin to understand that you are bound to him, as he is to you.”
“You must be taking shrink lessons,” I muttered. “Either that, or you’ve been listening to your wife too much.”
“I speak only what I see,” Bruno said, drawing himself up. “In this case, evidently you have blinded yourself, Liz, because you too are capable of seeing this. If you choose not to acknowledge your feelings, that is your problem. But in this case, it becomes my friend Paolo’s problem, and that makes me apprehensive for him.”
“Soup’s on.” Drake came through the kitchen door, carrying the tureen carefully between oven-mitted hands. “It’s nice and hot. I’ll bring you a cup, Liz. Bruno?”
“I will serve myself,” Bruno said. He smiled at me. “But I know Liz appreciates your care of her.”
I cleared my throat. “Of course I do. Thanks, Paul.”
Chapter 22
We sat around in the beautiful room, drinking our soup. Don had soup too, slurping it up moodily. I ate three of the sandwich triangles, despite their somewhat dry bread. Nothing ever tasted better. Hannah joined us, but she kept throwing glances over her shoulder at the kitchen and the bedrooms beyond it.
“When will they be done?” She tore a piece of the stale bread into crumbs. “Poor Kim is having quite an ordeal.”
“What will happen to the shop, anyway?” I looked at her over my second cup of soup. “Beaned in Boston. Who’ll run it now?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah seemed struck. “Let’s see, Naomi and I each made a will a couple of years ago, and many of our business concerns were left to each other, to obviate any legal problems arising out of either of our deaths. I might inherit the shop from her. Or it might go to her next of kin, which would be—”
We all looked at Don. He looked alarmed.
“It wouldn’t be me. I don’t think I could inherit unless she acknowledged me as her son, and she hadn’t done that.”
“She might have, but I agree, she was unlikely to unless she’d told you about it.” Hannah patted Don’s hand.
“Your mother was
a bit manipulative, you know. She would have wanted you to be properly grateful for anything she chose to give you.”
“I didn’t need anything from her. I still don’t. But wouldn’t her next of kin be her brothers and sisters? Like, my aunts and uncles? Kim said there were several.”
“I think you might be right,” Drake said. “Maybe Richard Kendall would know.”
“The laws in Massachusetts are different from California,” Hannah announced, her tone of voice making it clear that Massachusetts’s laws were far superior. “I will call my attorney and ask him.”
“No need, not right now.” Don held up a hand. “I just wondered, because it occurred to me that Kim would be good at running that thing. From what she was telling me on the plane, she knows everything but the paperwork, and a good accountant could help her with that until she catches on. I think she’d like to keep it in the family.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Don.” Hannah gave him her most gracious, most motherly smile. “I’m certain I can arrange that. After all, Kim saved my life.”
“I wouldn’t mention that part, if I were you.” I pushed my soup cup away. “Kim doesn’t regard that as her most shining hour.”
“I shall be tactful, of course,” Hannah said.
We all exchanged glances, wondering if she knew how. Kim’s bedroom door opened, and Scarlatti came crunching through the kitchen, followed by Daly, Kim, and Mr. Kendall.
Hannah made a sound of annoyance. “Inspector, when can we have that mess cleaned up? I can’t tell you how distressing it is to try to work in a kitchen full of broken glass and other assorted rubbish.”
“I can imagine.” Scarlatti looked around at us, a measuring look. “We’re about to wrap up our investigation. You’ll be glad to know that we’ve decided to bring it in as accidental death. Your statements will all be used, and you may be asked to return to testify, but the likelihood is that this ends your involvement. As our evidence procurement is at an end, you may have your kitchen cleaned without further ado.”
Drake spoke. “And what about Liz? She was abducted at gunpoint. Will you file charges in that case?”
