Proposals and Poison

by Rachelle J. Christensen

“No, if you need anything, I’ll take copies and get it back to you.” Tony gave me the look that said, You’d better not be holding anything back this time.

  I held up my hands. “I created a file that has all of the emails she sent me with pictures and attachments of things she wanted to use in her wedding. It was kind of a lot of work, so give me some credit here.” The file was tucked into a drawer in my desk, and as I pulled out the folder, I was comforted by the thought that I could easily print out the entire file again.

  I hadn’t started taking notes on the papers yet, thank goodness. I hated waiting for the police to sort through my stuff. This was different, but still, if there was something I could do to ease Tim’s burden, I wanted to do it sooner rather than later.

  I handed Tony the folder. He eyed the stack of papers and flipped through them. “There’s quite a bit here. More than I thought.”

  “I doubt there’s anything there that would help, but maybe.” I kept my tone even, with no hint of the curiosity I felt about those papers.

  “Thanks, Adri.” He turned to Lorea and smiled. “I’ll probably have a few more questions for both of you later on. Be thinking of anything out of the ordinary. We have very little information at this point.”

  “Then how are you so certain that it’s murder?” I asked.

  “How was the poison administered?” Lorea asked.

  Tony waved his hand as if to dismiss both of us. “You two, mind your business. But while you’re minding it ...” He raised one eyebrow. “Think about your interactions with Lily: was there a time when she acted different? I’d like to know anything that catches your attention, because it could be a clue to her murder.”

  “Will you let us know more when you can?” Lorea pressed. “I mean, the news is going to catch wind of this soon, so you’d better keep us in the loop.”

  “I’ll do what I can, but don’t get any ideas.” Tony wagged his finger at both of us. “Just because you’ve solved a murder before, doesn’t mean you should go looking for trouble.”

  I turned to Lorea. “He wants us to help, but he doesn’t want us to help. Is he always this confusing?”

  Lorea laughed. “Yes, he wants to kiss me, but then he doesn’t ‘cause he’s wearing this getup.” She motioned to his uniform and stage-whispered, “He never takes it off because he’s scared of these.” She pointed to her lips, and I doubled over laughing when Tony’s face went red.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said to Lorea, and he headed for the door. She caught his hand before he left and said something that I couldn’t hear, but the way he looked at her, I knew he was a goner.

  “Hey, I’m thinking that maybe we should schedule a date for another venue.” I waggled my eyebrows at Lorea when she returned.

  “There’s already been one Zubiondo wedding this year, so the pressure’s off.” Lorea reminded me of her sister Terese’s wedding this past February. She fingered the laburu cross she wore around her neck—another indicator of her Basque heritage. The silver necklace looked like it was shaped from four commas swirling in a delicate circle. “Besides, what if I wanted to have a traditional Basque wedding in Spain?”

  “I’d say I’m up for that. When do you want me to mark off two weeks? November’s already getting booked up. How about January?”

  “Adri, I’m dating Tony. We’re not even close to talking marriage.”

  “Hmm, I’d say you’re closer than you think when you can make a policeman blush.”

  Lorea giggled. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Me, too.” I headed straight to my computer to print out the document on Lily again. Now I’d be looking at the information from a different perspective—murder.

  HOMEMADE WHOLESOME AND HEALTHY GRANOLA

  1 ½ cups rolled oats, ¼ cup craisins, 1/3 cup slivered almonds, 2 Tbsp honey, 1 Tbsp wheat germ, 1 Tbsp flaxseed, 1 Tbsp Chia seeds, 1 ½ tsp vanilla

  Mix all ingredients together. Spread on a cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 4 minutes. Stir and bake an additional 3-5 minutes. Remove from heat and allow granola to cool. Makes 2 ½ cups.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  I wouldn’t admit it to Tony or Lorea, but I stayed up late sifting through the emails I’d printed out from Lily. On Friday morning, over a bowl of my favorite homemade granola, I looked through the pages again. It was all wedding related with lots of hearts and smiley face emoticons as she shared about her hopes for the future. My throat tightened and my eyes burned with more tears over her death, which would probably be officially ruled as a murder soon. Lily was only twenty-seven years old—nearly two years younger than me, but close enough to my age that it made it hurt even more. How could her life be cut short when she was on the cusp of a new beginning?

  The meager stack of papers in front of me didn’t hold any revelations concerning Lily’s murder. At least, not to me. Maybe Tony would be able to find a connection that I wasn’t seeing. I said a silent prayer for Lily’s family and Tim, and then turned my mind to the day ahead of me. My shop officially opened at ten, but I wanted to be there by nine. Jessie would be coming by again sometime that morning, and I wanted to tidy up the shop before she arrived.

  Just over an hour later, I’d barely turned the lock on the front door when Officer Hamilton walked through. My fingers tensed. Did he have news about Lily?

  “Miss Pyper, I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I just had a few questions for you,” Hamilton said.

  “Okay.” I tried to keep my voice calm and look like I didn’t mind at all that policemen kept frequenting my wedding planning shop.

  “Would you mind taking a look at a picture? We’re checking to see if this individual might have been involved with the sighting at Everybody’s Closet.”

  “Oh, I’d almost forgotten that after everything that happened with Lily.” I glanced at the manila folder that Hamilton held, and my heart jumped in my throat. The anticipation of seeing the possible suspect was unnerving. What if he turned out to be someone I knew, after all?

  Hamilton slid a picture from the folder. “Is this the man you saw?”

  The man in the picture had reddish hair, drugged-out eyes, and a shaggy goatee. “No. Definitely not the one.” As I said it, the image of the man I’d seen holding a rifle on Tuesday came to mind. “The man I saw didn’t have facial hair. His hair was dark brown, not red. And he was short.” I couldn’t explain why I thought the man in the photo looked tall when it was only of the upper half of his body, but I was confident it wasn’t the same man.

  “Okay, thank you,” Detective Hamilton said. “We wanted to rule out the possibility. This man is estranged from his wife, who lives in the area and frequents that consignment store.”

  “Hey, Adri, did the shipment for—” Lorea walked out front, but stopped when she saw the policeman next to me. She raised her eyebrows. “What’s this about?”

  “Miss Pyper witnessed a crime and I’m just following up on it.” His tone invited no other questions.

  I stopped holding my breath and made my shoulders relax. Officer Hamilton trusted me, and that was a nice feeling. I’d have to fill Lorea in after he left. “So you don’t have any other leads?”

  “We checked the footage of a security camera on one of the businesses nearby, and we did see a white GMC pickup in that time frame. That has narrowed the search considerably.” He slid the picture back into the manila folder. “We’ll find him.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  “You’ve been great. I’ll be in contact. Stay safe.” He smiled and tucked the folder under his arm as he left.

  His admonition was a good one, since I’d been involved with the police department on a rather dangerous case last year. I shivered when I thought of the man holding the rifle. Could he have any connections to Lily’s murder?

  “So, you didn’t tell me anything about witnessing a crime,” Lorea said as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. “Does this have something to
do with Lily? You aren’t investigating on your own again, are you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m completely innocent. All I was trying to do was visit Everybody’s Closet to see the new stuff on Tuesday. I didn’t even get to go shopping, because there was some lunatic out front holding a gun.”

  Lorea leaned back, her brow furrowing. “That’s weird. What kind of gun?”

  “It was a hunting rifle,” I answered. “And he shot it before speeding off.” I related the whole incident to Lorea, who listened appropriately and gestured angrily at the danger I might have been in.

  “That’s so random,” she said after I’d finished. “Why would he be in the middle of town firing a rifle?”

  I rubbed my temples; the memory of the experience sent stress waves through my body. “Oh, that’s right. Tony couldn’t tell you about it.”

  “Yeah, and with everything that happened with Lily, he can’t say a word.”

  I closed my eyes. Neither of us liked to say the word murder when describing Lily’s death. It jostled my universe on a level that was beyond unacceptable to think of someone killing my sweet neighbor.

  “Tony has been pretty chatty, for a cop. He was even talking to Luke yesterday,” Lorea said. “It’s all official business, though.”

  “He was? When was that?”

  “He was on the phone with him when I went to meet Tony after work.” Lorea tucked dark strands of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I was hoping my shipment of dress fabric had come in, but it doesn’t look like it did.”

  She had carefully changed the subject, and I let it go, since I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be privy to the fact that Tony had talked to Luke. Of course, now my insides were lit up with curiosity bugs, and I still had a day’s work ahead of me. I glanced at my watch. Luke was already in court.

  “I’m going to run over to the post office and see if it got hung up there for some reason,” Lorea said. “I’ll stop by Everybody’s Closet on my way back if you want.”

  “Yes, that’d be great. Tell Necia I’ll try to get over there sometime next week.”

  “Okay. I’m going to see if there’s anything that might work for a last-minute gift for Trixie and Derek’s dogs.” She smirked and headed out the door.

  It was just before ten thirty when Jessie came in with her son, Gavin. I had yet to meet her fiancé, but it was fairly common that the men in the relationship weren’t all that excited about picking out matching accent shades to the wedding colors, and so on.

  “Hi, Jessie. Lorea had to run out for a few minutes, but she should be back soon. I can help you until then.”

  Jessie nodded, but didn’t say anything. It almost looked as if she was trying not to cry.

  “Gavin, how would you like to play with these cards for a minute?” I handed him a stack of color chips. He grasped them and smiled. I helped him sit at one of my design desks, and he spread the color chips across the surface and mumbled quietly to himself. Jessie looked like she was in a daze. “How are you doing today?” I asked the only question I could think that wasn’t outright prying.

  “I’m okay,” she answered, but her tone indicated otherwise. “Planning a wedding is tough work.”

  “Is something else wrong?”

  Jessie swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “Drago was fired yesterday.”

  “Oh my goodness,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Where did he work?”

  “Lost Trails Construction.” Jessie hesitated, as if thinking over what to say next. “You know that girl that died, Lily Rowan?”

  My throat tightened and I nodded.

  “Well, her stepdad, Phil Andrus, owns Lost Trails Construction. There’s been some problems with the business, and yesterday Lily’s sister, Rose, came in and fired Drago’s entire crew.”

  “But why would she do that? Wouldn’t it hurt his company more not to have any workers?” I asked.

  “I know. It doesn’t make any sense.” Jessie twisted her hands together. “Drago said that some of the guys were talking, saying that Andrus had his own daughter killed for her life insurance money.”

  I gasped, shaking my head.

  Jessie swiped a tear from her cheek. “It sounds terrible, but I guess the policy was for a couple million dollars and Phil has been struggling for months trying to stay afloat.” She studied the diamond ring on her left hand. “He even had Drago working some smaller side jobs that they never would have touched before.”

  “I’m sorry. None of it makes sense.” I wanted to ask how anyone would know about a life insurance policy when Lily hadn’t even had her funeral, but I bit my tongue.

  Jessie stared at Gavin while he played with the color chips, and some of the tension eased from her face. “We’re still moving forward with the wedding, but I’m not sure what to do until Drago gets another job.”

  “I understand. Let me look over your plans and see if I can find some ways to cut back and still give you the atmosphere you want.” I closed the planning binder we’d been working on. “Tell you what: I’ll bring Lorea up to speed on what’s going on, but let’s give this a rest for a little bit. Don’t worry. I bet Drago will find a new job by next week. The construction business is booming around here, and he sounds very talented.”

  Jessie squeezed my hand. “Thanks, Adri. You’re a really good listener. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

  I glanced out the front window of my shop after she left. I was a good listener, and I’d heard a lot more than what Jessie had said in our conversation. If Andrus’s workers knew about the life insurance policy, then the police surely did too. What did Tony think about the allegations?

  Maybe Lorea could get some information from Tony ... but no, he was too professional. If I wanted to know more details about the case, I’d have to come at it from a different angle. I’d have to find information that Tony needed in return.

  Lily’s funeral was scheduled for Saturday, but I wondered if it would be postponed with an open murder investigation. It still didn’t make sense. And now someone from our own little community might be responsible.

  HOMEMADE DOG TREATS

  2/3 cup pumpkin puree, ¼ cup peanut butter, 2 large eggs, 3 cups whole wheat flour.

  Beat pumpkin, peanut butter, and eggs until well-combined. Gradually add flour until dough is no longer sticky. Knead dough until it resembles sugar cookie dough. Roll dough to ¼-inch thickness and cut-out with dog-bone cookie cutter or desired shape.

  Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes until edges are golden brown.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  My next appointment was one I’d been looking forward to for about two hours. Gladys Tiebold had called in to tell me she was engaged and that she and her fiancé wanted to come and look at some wedding planning suggestions. I didn’t know her, but could tell by her voice that she was older. “This will be my fifth marriage, so I’ve learned a few things, but you’re the expert I hear.”

  “Uh, well, thank you. I’d be happy to meet with you and see how I can help you.” I didn’t know quite what to say or do to prepare to consult Gladys on her fifth marriage, but I’d do my best. I jotted down a few notes in preparation for her appointment.

  “Lorea, I have a lady coming in to plan her fifth wedding later. You might want to get a few catalogs ready for her to look at.”

  “What?” Lorea asked. “Her fifth?”

  I chuckled. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

  “A sign for what?” Lorea put her hand on her hip.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  At two thirty, Gladys arrived and my wedding bells chimed, sounding just the same for her as they did for those who had never been married before. The thought made my lips twitch.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Gladys Tiebold, and this is my fiancé, Hank Shaffer.” Gladys shook my hand vigorously and then passed me to Hank, who pumped my arm three times before abruptly releasing my hand.

  “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Adrielle Pyper; call
me Adri. Welcome to my shop.”

  Gladys and Hank were both over sixty. I suspected that Hank might have even been seventy, but it was hard to tell since his hair was dyed jet black and he kept his face clean shaven. Gladys had smile lines that extended down to her jawline, and her blue eyes twinkled as she spoke. “Hank is a charmer. Just look at this ring.” Gladys held out her hand and wiggled her ring finger, adorned with a large fake diamond in a gold setting. Hopefully, she didn’t think it was real—but then, most people didn’t get to study rings as much as I had.

  “That is lovely. What a sweetheart,” I replied.

  Gladys was thick around the middle, with frizzy salt-and-pepper hair. She wore boot-cut jeans that still had creases from the store shelf, and cowboy boots that also appeared new. I glanced at Hank, noting his well-worn Wranglers and cowboy boots. I wondered if Gladys was a different kind of runaway bride than the one Julia Roberts had played in the hit movie. Maybe Gladys got married to the guy, changed to be who he wanted her to be, and then realized she wasn’t really in love.

  They held hands, and Hank whispered something in her ear. I hoped for both of their sakes that the marriage would work out.

  “I’d like to introduce you to my business partner, Lorea Zubiondo.” I stepped back so Lorea could shake hands with our new clients.

  “That’s a good name,” Hank said. “You must be Basque.”

  Lorea smiled. “I am, thank you.”

  “I used to work for a man who had more sheep than the rock in the river. Named Etcheverry. He spoke Basque.”

  “Yes, Euskara is an old language that not many know anymore,” Lorea replied.

  Ten points for Hank, because Lorea was quite proud of her Basque heritage.

  “Lorea does all of our wedding gowns, alterations, and special requests for the wedding clothing,” I said. “Let me know if you’re interested in looking over her catalog.”

  Gladys shook her head. “Oh no, I’m too old for anything fancy. Hank and I are just planning to wear our Sunday best. Although, I might get a new dress and him a matching tie.” She elbowed Hank.