“Oh.” Ruby saw nothing wrong with this explanation.
Without looking up from her reading, Ming said, “By the way, your man is upstairs waiting for you.”
“Noel?”
“Yep. For a pregnant chick, you have a lot of boyfriends.” She stopped to think for a minute and commented, “It’s probably an evolutionary thing—something about a mate with proven ability to bear young.”
Ruby cringed. “Eww. You might want to work on your lines. You’re supposed to be selling romance.”
“Romance is biology, Ruby.”
Ruby opened up the glass door to her office. There he was, leaning back in her chair with his feet propped up on her desk. When he saw her, he gave her one of his adorable half smiles.
“I was just going to call you,” she said. “I have a permit violation to report.”
“Is that right?” He didn’t look like he cared in the least. He confirmed this when he asked, “I was wondering if you want to go out to dinner tonight? Or maybe right now?” He raised his eyebrows and said, “Maybe we can leave Todd at home this time?”
“Hmm. That sounds really nice.”
He pointed to a pair of cups on the table by the door. “I brought coffees.”
She picked them up and sat down next to him on her settee. “Thank you!” One of the cups said VL and the other C. “Is VL for me?” asked Ruby, suddenly feeling a little weak in the knees.
“I thought you ordered that last time we were together.”
She almost swooned, but she managed to say, “Thanks.” If Noel accidentally kneeled down to tie his shoe or accidentally started a sentence with, “Will you…” Ruby would jump out of her chair and scream “Yes!”
He picked up a discarded negligee that was slung over the side of the settee. “Did you lose this?”
Ruby smiled slyly. Ruby pointed to the mannequin Ming had been dressing. “I think it belongs to her. But if you’re good, I’ll wear it for you later.”
He ran his hand across her bare leg. “I think I’ll hold you to that, Miss O’Deare.”
The sun slanted across his face, highlighting the amber flecks in his eyes and his outdoorsy tan. She imagined touring his vineyard sometime soon—walking through the grape arbor in dappled sunlight, a light breeze ruffling her skirt. She admired his eyes again, coffee brown with amber spots. God. How had she thought they were blue? She would be the worst eyewitness, to her own life no less.
He tapped his lap and said, “Put your feet up.”
“Really?” She stretched out, kicked off her boots, and he pulled her feet into his lap. When he began to rub them, she forgot the vanilla latte on the floor beside her and basked in the attention like a sun worshiper on the beach.
He looked meaningfully at her belly. “That little thing is now the size of an apple.”
“Really?”
He gave her a funny look, as if everyone knew fetal development. “Am I wrong? I think it was WebMD—it said you might even be able to feel it move by now?”
“Uh…no.” She couldn’t believe her ears. He was reading about the baby. A baby-loving, gorgeous, wine connoisseur. She shut her eyes and cozied up into the feeling of security. She wasn’t in this alone.
“What’d you do today so far?”
All she wanted to do was cozy up to him and maybe unbutton her blouse a few notches, but she managed to answer. “Uh. I went to the prison to talk to Jermaine.”
“Really?”
She caught the surprise in his tone. He had clearly expected her to say she was at the mall picking out a new shade of eye shadow, so she acted like she went to the prison every morning, “Yeah, I needed to ask Jermaine a few questions about a job he did for Destinee.” She was starting to lose focus, though, because his hands were turning her feet into butter.
“Oh my god. You could be a masseur,” Ruby said in a drugged voice as she sank deeper into the sofa.
“Tell me more.”
“Are you sure? This is the part about the permit violation. I’m not sure if I want to distract you from the direction you’re headed. You’re gonna get so mad when you hear this one.”
He smiled knowingly.
“Try me. I won’t care.”
“Destinee hired Jermaine and a friend to do a sham clean-up job at the Elysian Fields site.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. He didn’t look surprised at all.
“You don’t look upset.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to be upset.”
“But I figured you would be.” Realization dawned and she sat bolt upright. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
With knit brows she said, “I don’t get it. You’re letting Ozcorp slide.”
He made a waffling gesture with his hands. “I don’t feel like I have much choice. I mean—”
She cut him off. “What? You’re the municipal authority. Ozcorp is the applicant. Make them do the right thing.”
“Ozcorp always gets what it wants. I don’t want to rock the boat with the city or Ozcorp.”
She thought about it for a second. “You shouldn’t even be allowed to make the decision. You’re too biased.” Getting madder by the second, she said, “You’re probably making money off the stupid development.” She looked at her knees. “All that talk about Elysian Fields being a gentrified suburban blight—that was all bogus.”
He started to protest. “I’m just being realistic. It doesn’t mean I like it.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Seriously. You are such a hypocrite. What about that sustainability tour of Asia? Was that just for show?”
“No. It wasn’t. I want to do what’s right for everyone. I want to be the best public servant I can be, but I can’t fight every battle. Eylsian Fields is the battle I decided not to fight.”
“Well, that was a bad choice, buddy. Estelle probably died because of that development. People trust you. I trusted you.” She threw the negligee on the floor in a fit of temper.
Noel shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
He did look sorry, but Ruby was too mad to listen.
…
Ruby slumped over Ming’s desk and let out a sigh dramatic enough for daytime television. She’d gotten a little too close to happily-ever-after, close enough to start losing perspective. It was like crying in the parking lot at Disney World. She wondered if other people did that too.
“Please don’t cry, Ruby. I hate crying.”
“It’s the hormones. I can’t help it.” When Ming didn’t ask about the tears, she explained anyway. “Noel is a slimy bureaucrat. He is ignoring all sorts of egregious permit violations.”
Ming started laughing. “Holy fuck. Those hormones are hitting you hard!”
“He’s letting Ozcorp slide through without following any of the rules. He’s basically working for Ozcorp. I don’t think I can trust him.”
Ming looked thoughtful for a moment. “Everyone in Emerald is basically working for Ozcorp. He might not be all bad.”
After a minute and a few deep breaths, Ruby felt the fight go out of her. She took a few sips of the vanilla latte Noel had brought her and said, “You’re right. We are all to blame for whatever Ozcorp does. We all just let it happen.” Noel was sweet and thoughtful. She rubbed her belly thinking that he would probably be a great dad. Everyone screws up now and then. She certainly did. “I started thinking about baby names, Ming. What do you think about Rosebud. Doesn’t that sound cute?”
“Don’t ask me to comment.”
Ruby patted her belly again. “Want to go shopping for baby stuff with me? That might be fun.”
“Maybe later. I have a meeting with Jong about a flirty new double-strap number in fifteen minutes.” Her stomach growled. “Fuck, I’m hungry. I should have made a smoothie or something.”
Ruby searched through her purse. The only thing in there was the bag of nasty peanuts she’d taken from Estelle’s kitchen a few days ago. Normally Ming wouldn’t accept
bottom-of-the purse fare. She must have been starving, though, because she accepted Ruby’s offering. When she took a bite of the nuts she grimaced and picked up the bag to inspect it. “There is something the matter with these nuts.” Looking at the bag she observed, “Did you put something on them?”
“Just some salt.”
“I believe you put something on there, but it wasn’t salt.”
“Yes it was. It was in Estelle’s saltshaker. I just don’t think I put enough on. I couldn’t get it very salty.”
“No, that is not salt, Ruby. It’s too bitter. It tastes like potassium chloride.”
“What’s that?”
“Not salt. Throw those away.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Solves the Murder on Commercial Break
Ruby drove home and scrounged in the kitchen. There was nothing to eat or drink besides Diet Coke and Saltines. Ming had been too busy conquering the world to shop, and when it came down to it, Ming was the only one who came home with anything besides Diet Coke and Saltines. Ruby looked at the empty pantry and thought about driving to the store for food, but she picked out a pack of Saltines and a pop instead and settled in front of the TV. Probably not the best diet for a developing fetus, so she popped an extra pre-natal vitamin.
Thoughtlessly, she turned on the next episode in Sixteen and Pregnant, but a few minutes into it she got bored and flipped to Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. Watching Mariska Hargitay save children and kick ass while looking like an armed pin-up girl inspired her to work a little. It was as good a time as any to write down her thoughts about Estelle’s case. Feeling virtuous, she muted the TV and picked up her notes, which were as coffee-stained and dog-eared as one of Olivia’s old law books.
Looking through her notes, she wondered if it was even worth the effort. Her list of suspects included Destinee, who might have killed Estelle to keep her quiet about the Elysian Fields money. If she had to guess, Ruby would say that Destinee pocketed the money from the epa that was supposed to be spent on a proper clean-up. She might have killed Estelle so she wouldn’t be outed as an embezzler. Then, there was Trudi, because of general bitchiness and opportunity. As her beneficiary, Pastor Rick rounded out the list. Ruby sighed and set down the notebook and turned the volume back up.
Halfheartedly, she scrolled through her Twitter feed while Mariska kicked down a door and shot a bad guy. The tweets were mostly boring, blow-by-blow narration of strangers’ lives, “crawling into bed!” and “eating gourmet macaroni” with the occasional picture of Neil Patrick Harris’s dinner thrown in. Then, she stopped at a post from an old sorority pal, Ginny Hawkins. Ginny wrote: “Thanks for the Glass Chapel Wedding, Granny! Rip!”
Last time she’d talked to Ginny, Ginny had been three years out on the waiting list. Ruby wrote back, “@ginnygin, Did Granny sleep with Pastor Rick? :O”
Ginny responded, “@rubyslippers Sick! I wish! She died. :( I exchanged the funeral voucher for a wedding. *wink*”
Ruby cringed. Talk about the worst karma ever—one should not mess with their grandmother’s funeral wishes, even for a dream wedding. The only worse thing would be exchanging your dead fiancée’s funeral for a free wedding with the best man. That was a low blow, even for Ginny who would now most certainly get acne or spontaneously develop a recessed nipple on her wedding day. Ruby didn’t know what that was, but she’d seen a pamphlet at the doctor’s office on the topic. She wondered what kind of person would enjoy a wedding day they stole from their dead granny.
Then the light bulb went off: Trudi wouldn’t mind one bit. Ruby thought of the salt. The salt on her bag of peanuts came from the shaker that Trudi had refilled and used to season Estelle’s chicken. Ming had said it was poison.
If Trudi pulled a Ginny, she could have easily exchanged the funeral voucher for a fancy wedding at heaven’s doorstep. On the off-chance the Chapel was still open, she called the main office to verify her hunch and see if Trudi was on the schedule. Ruby was starting to shake with excitement. She never actually believed she would get this close to figuring it out.
“Glass Chapel, Fabrizia speaking.”
Distracted, Ruby gushed, “Oh! I love your name! It’s so pretty.”
“What are you calling about, miss?”
“Sorry. I was wondering about your wedding schedule. Can you tell me if you have a reservation for the O’Kieffe/Harris wedding?”
“Let me check,” answered the beautifully-named secretary who just had to be drop dead gorgeous and stick skinny. While Fabrizia checked the schedule, Ruby wondered if she should name her baby Fabrizia. She ran through a few combos:
Fabrizia O’Deare.
Fabrizia West.
Fabrizia O’Deare West.
Fabrizia Grace.
Fabrizia Amelia O’Deare.
“Ah! Here it is,” Fabrizia said as she scrolled through the records. “It’s set for next fall, a beautiful time of year for a wedding!”
“I was just wondering if we still owe any money?” Ruby lied. “I’m the bride’s sister and I’m dotting all the i’s for her.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet!” There was another pause while Fabrizia looked through the records. “No, honey. The fee has been waived because of an estate donation. You have the chapel for two hours gratis. You only need to cover the fees for the cleanup crew.”
Bingo!
“That’s what I thought. Just out of curiosity, how much do you normally charge for a wedding?”
“It varies a bit based on the time of year, the day, that sort of thing. It generally costs about $20,000, though.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad,” said Ruby.
Even though $20,000 sounded semi-reasonable to her, she knew it was enough to kill for, particularly if you were a “killer-type,” which she imagined Trudi might be. She could barely wrap her mind around it, though. Trudi might be a bitch, but it was hard imagining anyone killing Estelle, especially someone who had known her.
A quick Google search for potassium chloride verified Ming’s earlier observation about the deadly peanuts. Potassium chloride, a close relation to table salt, stopped the heart in a way that looked like a heart attack, particularly for diabetics like Estelle. No fewer than ten television shows had used potassium chloride as a murder weapon in recent years: Law & Order, CSI, a few movies, and most recently Damages, which she had loved. Someone knocked off the lead defendant in last season’s Damages. It took Rose Byrne the whole season to figure it out.
Ruby called Eric and reported, “I think Trudi killed Estelle,” as if she were answering a burning question.
“What?” Eric put his beer down and looked out at the river scape. “Trudi did what?”
“She killed Estelle.”
“How do you know that?” asked Eric, who was catching up.
“Ming figured it out. I brought home a bag of nuts from Estelle’s. Ming tasted them and said they were covered in potassium chloride instead of salt.”
He said, “Uh huh. I’ll be sure to put that in the file,” which Ruby translated to, “I’ll say whatever you want to hear you crazy woman.”
“Oh, just have her blood tested. I’m sure that she’ll have elevated levels of potassium chloride. Then, go to Estelle’s house and get the saltshaker. Test that. It’s not salt.”
“I’ll get right on that, Nancy Drew. Just curious. Why would Trudi kill Estelle? It’s not like she stood to inherit and she was getting free rent while Estelle was alive.”
“Because she’s getting married at the Glass Chapel. Estelle donated her house to Pastor Rick. He normally does a free funeral for people who donate their estates. Trudi knew that and exchanged it for a free wedding. Between poisoning her dinner and scoring a free wedding, I think we have the motive and the weapon.”
“Are you telling me she’d kill a woman just for the opportunity to cash in a coupon for a free wedding?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
After laughing for a few minutes, he
began to mock her: “I heard they have an opening at the Weekly World News if Client Advisors goes under.” His tone implied he thought it would. “I’ll ask the medical examiner about Estelle’s potassium levels, but I’m not promising anything.”
“So will you do some more investigating?”
“I’ll check out the potassium thing for you, but that’s it. The Emerald PD isn’t CSI. Our science dude has a microscope donated by the high school and a projector.”
Though she felt obliged to say thanks, she didn’t feel the sentiment. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was definitely something wrong with Eric. It was like he didn’t even bother to try doing his job. With frustration, she pressed “end.” She didn’t throw the phone across the room, but she thought about it. Instead, she picked up her Diet Coke and looked back at the TV.
She might not have been able to solve her case within an hour, but at least SVU didn’t disappoint. Ruby watched Mariska with a touch of jealousy as she hauled a bad guy into lock-up. It would have been awesome if she solved the case by the end of the second commercial break. But the Law & Order crew never wraps things up that early. They don’t reveal the real killer until ten minutes before the end. That’s like six commercial breaks, not one. She needed to be patient.
Too tired to walk the dogs before bed, she just let them out in the front yard. The streetlights illuminated her block in cozy light and she sat down to watch the dogs. She could tell it was almost spring because a hint of GreenLawn chemical wafted across the street from Mr. and Mrs. Cuttings’ yard. Then she noticed a cat framed in their window. Funny. She never knew they had a cat. With its distended belly and gray stripes, it looked just like Vera Wang, except a little fatter.
She yelled in the open front door to Ming who had just gotten home from a late night at the store. “Have you seen the cats anywhere?”
Ming laughed. “They’ve been living at the neighbors for about a month.”
“Really?” Ruby looked again at Vera. Mrs. Cutting had always doted on them. “Did you give them away?”
“I didn’t have to. They just moved out.”
Ruby bit her lip. She’d check in on Tom and Vera tomorrow. Looking out at the world, she rubbed her belly. Hopefully she would do better with kids.
Ruby's Misadventures With Reality Page 19
