Proposals and Poison

by Rachelle J. Christensen

  “We’ll be at the festival all day, and then we want to go to dinner. Are you game?”

  “Sure. Do you want me to come up and help with anything?”

  “No, not unless you’re really bored,” I said. “I think we’ll be able to keep up, unless you want to meet for lunch again.”

  “Well, I did have my eye on a couple of those Mexican food booths. I could be persuaded to try one out if you’ll let me treat you to lunch.”

  “I think that’s a great plan. Same time as today?”

  “Sure,” Luke said.

  “Oh, Bryn, look at your shirt,” Jenna said as she lifted Bryn from her chair. Bryn’s light-pink shirt was smeared with chocolate sauce and ice cream. Jenna grabbed a handful of napkins and began wiping it off. “I’ll probably have to toss this one.”

  “Not if Adri still has some of her homemade laundry detergent,” Mom said. “That stuff works wonders. We’ll rinse it out and start a load when we get home.”

  “Okay, that’d be great, because his clothes are pretty much drenched with ice cream.” Jenna pointed at Ethan.

  “Yeah, that won’t be a problem,” I said. “I have a big glass jar of the soap sitting on my dryer. You’re welcome to wash whatever you need.”

  “Thanks, Adri.” Jenna scooped up her kids and handed Ethan to Wes.

  As my family scattered out to their separate vehicles, Luke walked me to my car. “You’re going to have quite the houseful.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be sleeping on the couch so my parents don’t have to,” I said. “It’s a good thing I have a spare room and an air mattress.”

  “Let me know if you’re too crowded. I have plenty of room,” he said.

  “Careful, I might take you up on that.”

  “Well, as long as it’s not you I think it’d be totally fine.”

  “Hey!”

  Luke leaned closer and nuzzled my neck. “You know what I mean.”

  Heat flared up in my chest; I did know exactly what Luke meant. He kissed me tenderly and then helped me into my car. I watched him walk across the parking lot and straddle his Harley. I wouldn’t admit how much I wanted to climb on with him and go for a ride—I just couldn’t get enough of Luke.

  My phone buzzed, and I swiped the screen. There was a text from Tony.

  Lorea texted me that she was too tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.

  I closed that text and saw that I had a missed text from earlier. It was from Lorea.

  Just in case, I had an idea. Tony can’t get mad if I ask the questions.

  I stared at the screen, trying to get my overworked brain to catch up to the meaning. When I figured out what Lorea was hinting at, I clenched my fist. “No, Lorea. Please say you didn’t do something stupid.”

  MOM’S HOMEMADE BREAD

  5 cups hot water

  2/3 cup honey

  2/3 cup oil

  2 Tbsp Yeast

  2 Tbsp Dough Enhancer (optional)

  1 Tbsp Salt

  About 10 Cups Whole Wheat Flour

  Mix the water, honey, oil, and yeast together. Make sure the water isn’t too hot for the yeast. Let sit for about ten minutes. Next add in dough enhancer, four cups flour, and salt. Mix for two minutes. Gradually add in the remaining flour, one cup at a time until dough pulls away from sides of the mixing bowl. Knead for ten minutes. Turn out onto lightly floured surface and separate into loaves. Shape loaves and put in greased baking pans. Allow to rise until nearly doubled in size.

  Bake at 350 degrees. Makes 4 loaves. Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  My insides were tied up in knots with the feeling that something was wrong. I called Lorea’s cell three times, disconnecting just as it went to voice mail.

  Then I told myself not to panic. I sent Lorea a text asking where she was, but she didn’t answer that, either. I waited a moment, tried calling, and left her a brief message asking her to call me back. Then I texted her. Three more times.

  By then several minutes had passed, and anxiety had a stranglehold on me. Where was Lorea?

  I almost called Tony before I remembered the find-a-friend app Lorea had made me download on my phone before I went to Kauai. She was able to track me on the island and google some of the places that I saw. I wondered if it was still active on her phone.

  I scrolled through my apps, and a few seconds later a green circle popped up, showing Lorea’s location. She was on her way up the canyon, it looked like. Then I noticed the circle wasn’t moving. I gasped when I recognized the area above the Sun Valley resort where Phil Andrus lived.

  Pressing hard on the gas pedal, I sped through town toward Phil Andrus’s house. Probably half the town had driven by the mansion at one time or another, hoping to get a peek, but from what I’d heard it was located down a private drive that was usually closed. If Lorea was there, did she call and get an appointment to talk to Phil?

  I thought about the connection that Lorea had told me about earlier between Vickie and Phil. If the police couldn’t find Vickie and she really was related to Phil, could he be helping to hide her from the police? That sounded far-fetched, but it was the only thing I had to go on.

  Once I reached the general area, it took me ten more minutes to find the right lane up to the private drive of the Andrus residence. The light was fading fast, but thankfully there was still enough that I could see I was headed in the right direction as the big house loomed before me.

  When I pulled into the driveway, my breath lodged in my throat. Lorea’s yellow Volkswagon bug was parked to the side of the imposing three-story mansion. Lorea hadn’t answered any of my calls or texts, which sometimes happened, but given her location, I expected the worst. I opened my car door and stepped onto the asphalt.

  My phone was in my pocket, and I wondered if I should call the police. I hesitated, trying to decide if I had overreacted again. Knowing that Tony would be angry if I even breathed in unsafe territory, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Phil had probably seen me arrive—I’d noted the camera installed on the light pole as I came up the driveway.

  I began typing in Tony’s number as I walked up the elaborate tiled pathway and was almost to the front door when I heard someone screaming. The blood pumped hard in my ears, and every sound intensified. I tried the front door, but it was locked. I turned and ran down the steps, around the side of the house, looking for another entrance. There! I spotted a door next to the steps that led up to the huge balcony overlooking the backyard.

  I still gripped my phone with only part of Tony’s number entered on the screen. I made an impulsive decision and dialed 911 instead. As soon as dispatch picked up, I identified myself and hurriedly gave my location. “Please send the police. Tell them Lorea Zubiondo may be hurt and it involves the Lily Rowan murder case.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but I’m going in the house.”

  “Miss, please don’t enter the premises if you think there is danger.”

  “My friend is in there. I have to help her.”

  The operator was asking more questions, but I hung up and silenced my phone. I stepped quietly, my movements mimicking Tux when he was on the hunt for June bugs every night. The handle turned easily, and the door swung open without a sound. I stepped into a dim hallway in the basement of the massive home. I lifted my head, listening for any sounds, remembering the scream. How many minutes had passed? One, maybe two? My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I shook them out as I rounded the corner and looked up an imposing set of stairs.

  The stairwell was dark and enclosed. It must have been a service entrance. I thought I heard voices filtering down the stairway, so I began climbing, only putting weight on the balls of my feet. One of the stairs creaked. I froze, holding my breath, instantly transported back in time to when Wes and I would sneak around the house after our bedtime. Wes knew all the creaks on the steps and how to avoid them. I remembered one of his tricks was never to put weight on the middle part of the stair; he walked near the wall
or on the edges of the steps. I licked my lips and continued climbing the stairs like my brother had taught me.

  Near the top of the stairs, light illuminated a hallway on the next level. I stopped at the top of the stairs, taking shallow breaths and straining my ears for any sound. To my left, I heard someone speaking, but it was too far away for me to make out any words. Blood pounded in my ears, muffling the sounds even more. My right foot was on the threshold of the stairs when I heard a grunt, followed by a thump. I closed my eyes, afraid that the thump was the sound of a body falling. The thought of Lorea kept me moving.

  I peeked around the corner and took a few more steps into the hallway. I rounded a corner to my right, and the light reflected off a pair of gleaming amber eyes. I swallowed the scream that filled my chest. A mountain lion was poised to pounce on a jackrabbit hopping over a log. What looked like real sagebrush and Indian paintbrush was planted in the rocks and sand of the cat’s hunting ground.

  My heart was triple-timing the beats, ready to burst from the adrenaline coursing through my system. I heard a man shout, and there was another loud thump. I shrank back against the wall, wondering what was happening and why Lorea had come here alone.

  It was at that moment I realized I didn’t have a weapon. Luke would never let me hear the end of this. I looked back at the wildlife display; there were a few logs under the jackrabbit, one that was about twice the width of my forearm. I bent and tugged at the piece of wood. At first it didn’t budge, but then I lifted it straight up, and with a clink of metal it came loose. There were two metal rods sticking out of the piece of wood where it connected to the display. The wood was only moderately heavy as I hefted the weight in my hands. If I needed to use it, I figured I could wield the makeshift weapon, but I still hoped that this was all a misunderstanding.

  That thought vaporized when I saw the pair of feet sticking out of the doorway of the next room. The dark leather shoes belonged to a man, maybe Phil. Where was Lorea?

  It was some kind of office—the light spilled over a massive desk and into the hallway. I peered around the corner and saw Lorea on one side of the desk, facing a woman with dark hair on the other side.

  “You shouldn’t have come here. What did you think you could do, señorita?” The woman’s tone was icy.

  “I came to warn Phil about Vickie,” Lorea answered, and her voice trembled. “I didn’t know it was you. The police don’t suspect you. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone.”

  I took another step forward and recognized the profile of Rose Benavidez. The gears in my mind click-clacked to a stop, then began spinning in every direction as the bits and pieces of the mystery came together. Rose had killed her own sister.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Rose spat. She took a step toward Lorea, who was tied to a straight-backed chair. How in the world had Lorea walked into this mess? Rose didn’t have a gun, or any weapon that I could see.

  “So, Tim? It wasn’t his fault—he didn’t kill Lily?” Lorea was trying to keep Rose talking, but the fear in her voice was almost tangible, hanging onto the end of each of her words.

  “No, but none of that matters now.” Rose lifted her hand, and I caught sight of the weapon. Her hand covered most of the syringe, but the needle glinted under the light as she put pressure on the plunger. A drop of liquid clung tight to the end of the needle.

  Phil groaned, and as if in slow motion, I watched Rose turn in my direction. I leapt into action before her eyes could meet mine. With a scream, I lifted the log and swung it with my entire body toward her. Rose yelped and jumped back, but there was too much force behind my swing. The log hit Rose’s body with a sickening crack; she screamed, red blooming from the front of her light-blue blouse. I looked down at the weapon in my hand, and my stomach rolled over at the metal spike now covered in Rose’s blood. In my haste, I’d forgotten about the metal rods embedded in the wood.

  Rose covered her shoulder with her hand and lurched forward. She only made it a few steps before she cried out and slumped to the floor.

  The knuckles of my right hand were white from gripping the wood, but speckles of blood dotted my fingers. I looked from Rose to Lorea, and back to Rose again.

  “Adri!” Lorea squirmed against the ropes. “Help me get loose!”

  I knelt by her chair and began untying the knots. My hands shook, and I struggled to get the rope loose. “How did she tie you up with Phil here?”

  “The gun. She made Phil tie me up.” Lorea swallowed. “It must be on the desk somewhere.”

  My heart collided with my chest as I leapt to my feet to search for a gun. “Keep an eye on her,” I said, motioning to Rose as I searched the desk. The soft gleam of a dark gray handgun caught the low lights of the office. The weapon was sitting next to a pile of books. Something about it looked different; the barrel was slightly longer than other handguns I’d seen. “Why did she have a gun if she was planning to use poison?”

  “I don’t know, maybe she thought she’d need it to keep Phil from fighting back. Don’t touch it,” Lorea said.

  I glanced at Rose lying on the floor. She wasn’t unconscious, and I couldn’t risk her getting to the gun. I grabbed a file tray and used one of the books to slide the gun onto the tray. Stepping carefully around the desk, I set the tray with the gun on a shelf above Lorea’s head.

  “Can you untie me yet?” Lorea whimpered.

  “Hopefully.” My hands shook as I again knelt beside the chair and fumbled with the ropes.

  “How did you know?”

  One side of my mouth turned up, and I shook my head. “I finally figured out the clue.”

  “You did? But how did you find me?” Lorea’s voice sounded like she was on the edge of a panic attack.

  “That little friend location app you downloaded on my phone,” I answered. “You better never play hooky from work, ‘cause I’ll know if you aren’t at home in bed.”

  Lorea’s eyes widened. Then she laughed. Her face was pale, and my hands felt clammy. Some part of my brain registered that we were both probably suffering from shock.

  I tugged at the rope but still couldn’t get Lorea’s hands free. Shakily, I stood and looked for something that might help me cut the ropes. My eyes darted from the blood pooling on the floor by Rose, to Phil lying quiet halfway in and out of the room. There was an angry red-and-purple goose egg on the side of his head. My foot bumped the blood-spattered log, and the room seemed to tilt. I sucked in a breath, commanding myself to stay with it.

  “Adri, are you okay? Rose is moving,” Lorea whispered.

  I held on to the back of the chair and focused on Rose. “Don’t move, or this time I’ll go for your head,” I growled.

  Rose didn’t look up, but she lay still.

  It felt like much longer, but only a couple minutes later the police burst into the house. I grinned when I saw Tony in the throng of officers, figuring that when he heard Lorea’s name on the police scanner, he’d led the pack. I saw him take in the area. There were paramedics and officers surrounding both Phil and Rose, so he made a beeline for Lorea. He sliced the ropes with a knife from his utility belt and snatched her up into his arms.

  “What happened? Are you hurt?” His voice was tinged with hysteria.

  “I’m okay. Adri got here just in time.” Lorea bit her lip, and the tears she’d been holding in flooded out. She buried her head in Tony’s uniform.

  He looked over her head to me. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but I feel kind of lightheaded.” I turned to look behind me, and collapsed into the sofa along the wall of the office. I watched two paramedics working on Rose. They helped her from the room and onto a stretcher. Two cops followed, handcuffing her right hand to the stretcher’s metal bar.

  “Miss? Miss! Take steady breaths.” One of the paramedics was at my side, checking me over for injuries. One part of my brain registered what was happening, but everything seemed to float around me, the voices muffled.

  A light shined in my eye
s, and I jerked back. “Sorry about that,” the paramedic said. “You’re experiencing shock. Can you put your head between your legs and take a few deep breaths?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry I hit her so hard,” I mumbled.

  I saw the paramedic motion to Tony out of the corner of eye as I hung my head over my knees. “She said something about hitting someone,” the paramedic said.

  Tony helped Lorea sit on the sofa next to me, and then he crouched down beside me. “Can you tell me what happened, Adri?”

  I lifted my head a couple inches. “I snuck in the basement and came upstairs. I heard a thud and found Phil in the doorway of the office.” I paused to take a deep breath. “Then I heard Rose threatening Lorea. She had a syringe. She was going to kill her. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “It’s okay,” Tony soothed. “Where’s that syringe?” He raised his voice toward another officer. I lifted my head enough to see the officer delicately handling the syringe with gloves. Tony nodded and turned his attention back to me. “You did the right thing. What did you hit her with?”

  “The log from the mountain lion display. I forgot that it had metal spikes in the wood. Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yes. Puncture wounds bleed a lot, so maybe it looks worse than it is,” Tony replied.

  “Oh, the gun is on top of that shelf. I didn’t touch it.” My voice sounded hollow and emotionless.

  Tony jumped up and made a beeline for the shelf. The commotion sounded far away. I wondered how close I was to passing out, and sucked in a few big breaths.

  “Adri, good work on not touching the gun. It’s actually a tranquilizing gun.”

  “Did she steal it from Tim?” I asked.

  “No, he wouldn’t really have a need for something like that at his animal clinic,” Tony said. “I wonder how she got her hands on that poison.”

  I blinked and turned to Tony. “She killed Lily,” I whispered.

  “I know.”

  “For the life insurance money?”

  Lorea cut in. “No—at least, I don’t think that was the reason at first. It was because Lily found out Rose was embezzling money from Lost Trails Construction.”