Till Death Do Us Tart

by Ellie Alexander

  “The happy couple?” Lance interjected with a flick of his wrist. “Yes, yes. They’re blissfully on their way to the Greek isles and completely unaware of the drama unfolding here.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I said to Lance. “If the Professor sent Thomas here he must have suspected that something wasn’t right about Megan’s reaction to the wine.”

  Thomas nodded. He lowered his voice. “I just spoke to the resident on call and he confirmed that she was poisoned. We’ve sent the glass to the lab in Medford to run toxicology tests.”

  “Really?” A new wave of nausea assaulted my body. I had hoped that Lance and I were blowing things out of proportion.

  “Jules, are you okay?” Thomas reached out to steady me.

  “I’m fine. It’s hospitals. They give me the jitters.” That wasn’t a lie. I had spent way too much time in the hospital when my dad was sick. The smell of industrial bleach and the fluorescent lighting stirred up unwelcome memories.

  Thomas gave my arm a squeeze before letting me go.

  Lance pursed his lips. “You have to let us in. We have to speak with Megan. It’s most urgent.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “Lance, you know I can’t do that.”

  “Not even if it could mean life or death for our dear Juliet?” Lance raised one groomed eyebrow.

  “What?” Thomas frowned and looked to me.

  Lance continued. “That drink might have been meant for Juliet. Megan is the only person who knows the truth.”

  Thomas shook his head. “Wait, what? The drink was meant for you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what Megan said to me as she was being taken away in the ambulance. She probably wasn’t coherent. Or, I could have heard her wrong.”

  “Why would anyone want to poison you?” Thomas’s face dropped. He focused on Lance. “You really think that Megan suspected the drink was intended for Jules?”

  “Our dear Juliet is trying her usual tactic of making light of a ghastly situation. We both are acutely aware of the fact that Juliet has rarely misunderstood anything. She happens to be one of the most astute people I know.” Lance laced his fingers together. “Why she was the intended victim, I don’t know. Nor do I understand the connection to my father’s death, but I’m certain that Juliet didn’t mistake Megan’s words. Agree?”

  Thomas hesitated for a second. He glanced down the empty hospital corridor. I wondered if he was looking for Detective Kerry. If she caught Thomas sneaking us in to see Megan, I was sure she would try to get his badge taken away. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, but knowing that the doctor had confirmed that Megan’s drink had contained poison changed everything. “Okay, but just a couple minutes, and I’m coming with you.”

  He unlocked the door and ushered us inside. Megan lay in the hospital bed. Her face had lost most of its color. “Sorry to bother you, but these witnesses have come forward with some new information,” Thomas said. “I need to ask you a few more questions.”

  Megan tried to sit up. She winced, then pressed the remote control to move the bed to a more upright position. Was she really in pain, or was it an act? Lance’s theory that she was the person who slipped something in my drink was far-fetched, but then again stranger things had happened, especially here in Ashland.

  Thomas removed an iPad Mini from his jacket. His iPad was like an extra appendage. Had he brought it to the wedding? What about his gun? I wondered if it was strapped to his ankle, carefully hidden beneath his dress slacks. “Ms. Capshaw claims that you said something about the wine being intended for her?”

  Megan nodded with force but didn’t speak. She clutched her hand to her throat. She looked like a different woman. Gone was the tough leather exterior. Her eyes held an unnerving desperation.

  “The doctor told us that her vocal cords were damaged by the poison. They’re sending a speech pathologist and ENT down from Medford tomorrow, but in the meantime, they don’t want her to speak,” Thomas explained. “Anything you want to ask will need to be a yes or no question, or I can have her type her answer on the iPad.”

  Megan’s response was immediate. She motioned rapidly for Thomas to hand her the iPad and began typing. Lance fiddled with his ruffled collar, rolling it into a tight ball and then watching it spring out again, while we waited to see what Megan had written. After what felt like an hour, she handed the iPad back to Thomas and stared at me.

  Thomas read what she had written. “You’re sure?” he asked her without filling Lance or me in.

  Megan nodded and made a slicing motion across her neck.

  Thomas let out a long sigh. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. He shot his head in the direction of the door. “Let’s go.” He forced us out the door.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Thomas shook his head and moved his eyes in the direction of the nurses’ station. Detective Kerry was marching down the hall straight for us. The sound of her heels echoed through the corridor. Her silky red dress billowed behind her. “Hold on a sec. Let me do the talking.”

  Detective Kerry approached us with a curt nod. “Were you talking to the victim without me?”

  Thomas twisted his boutonniere. “Kerry, I got some new info from Lance and Jules.” Was it my imagination or did he blush slightly when talking to her?

  She scowled. “I hope you didn’t let civilians in there.”

  “Us? Civilians?” Lance chimed in. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know you’ve missed me, dear. By the way, red is your color. It brings out those shockingly green eyes and offsets your lovely auburn locks. Absolutely fabulous. That dress is to die for.” He made a sweeping motion over her body.

  Detective Kerry almost looked flustered, but she held out her hand in a motion to stop him.

  Lance wasn’t done. “And need I remind you that without our help you wouldn’t have closed your last case?”

  They had been introduced when Lance had been wrongfully accused of a murder. The two of them hadn’t exactly hit off. Then again, I didn’t get the sense that Detective Kerry warmed to many people. Her steely exterior made it clear that she had no interest in making friends. Yet I was starting to wonder if her armor was cracking. Between dancing and laughing with Thomas earlier at the wedding and her attitude with Lance now, maybe there was a chance that she would let her guard down.

  Thomas gave Lance a warning look.

  “You need to see this.” Thomas handed her the iPad.

  Detective Kerry read it twice and then stared at me. What had Megan written?

  She gave Thomas the iPad back. “Let me go talk to her.” With that, she thrust open the door and immediately slammed it shut.

  “Thomas, what’s going on? What did Megan say?” I asked.

  He held out the iPad. “Read it for yourself.”

  Lance leaned over my shoulder as I read the note that Megan had written: “Jules Capshaw in danger! Drink not for me. Talk to kitchen staff—stat. Poison in glass. Or bottle.”

  “What?” I asked. “That doesn’t make sense. I filled the glasses myself. I would have noticed if there was poison in one of them.”

  Thomas shook his head from side to side. “Would you though? Think about it. It could have been a drop. Maybe a trace of powder. The doctor doesn’t think that there was enough poison to actually kill a person. I don’t know if that was intentional. Maybe someone was trying to send a message. Or maybe our perpetrator made a mistake and didn’t estimate the amount they would need for a lethal dose.”

  “I guess,” I said, swallowing twice. My throat felt tight, or was that just psychological?

  “But how would they have known that Juliet was going to drink the poison? That seems way too risky,” Lance added. “Impossible, if you think about it. There were hundreds of guests in attendance. Unless someone specifically handed her a drink.”

  “True.” Thomas looked thoughtful. “I guess we should start by interrogating the kitchen staff. They are all temporary workers, right? How long w
ill they be on-site?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on how long the guests stay. I would think at least for another hour or so.” I looked around for a clock in the narrow hallway.

  Detective Kerry emerged from Megan’s room with a stoic half smile. She smoothed the bodice of her dress. “I don’t know. I’m leaning toward believing the victim. It sounds like we could have a case of the wrong drink in the wrong hands here.”

  “Really?” I gulped.

  She gave me an almost sympathetic nod. “Too soon to jump to any conclusions yet. No need to panic.”

  Easy enough for her to say; she wasn’t the person who had nearly been poisoned.

  Thomas filled her in on what she’d missed. “I guess we should head back to Uva, right?” he said.

  She nodded. “The victim appears to be stable. I don’t think she’s in any immediate danger. We can have the nursing staff rotate into the room throughout the evening, but I don’t think it’s necessary to have police presence here tonight.”

  Thomas stepped back to let Detective Kerry walk in front of him. They started down the hall when Lance threw his hands in the air and yelled, “Wait!”

  We all froze.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier. This is huge! Critical. I have a major clue in this case.”

  Detective Kerry folded her arms across her chest. “And are you intending to share it?”

  Lance tilted his head toward the ceiling, pressed his heels together to form a V, and then proceeded to close his eyes, extended his arms, and touched one finger and then the next to his nose. “Ta-da!” he announced, standing straight again.

  “Is there a reason that you’re demonstrating you’re not inebriated?” Detective Kerry said with a sneer.

  “Yes!” Lance clapped twice. “I’m completely sober.”

  “And?”

  “And the wine that Juliet brought outside for us never touched my lips.”

  I gasped.

  Lance nodded. “Exactly. You didn’t drink any of it, Juliet. I didn’t drink it, I simply wanted the glass as a prop. You know, I have to maintain a certain social standing for my fans. But I didn’t drink tonight. Not a single drop. That must mean that Clarissa didn’t drink any either. Leaving poor Megan in a hospital bed as the only sad soul who drank the tainted vino.”

  Detective Kerry and Thomas shared a look. “That is something,” she conceded. “Where is the bottle and the other glasses?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “I set the tray down on the grass when Megan got sick. The bottle was in the kitchen. It’s probably in the recycling with the rest of the wine bottles. Although, when we left they were already starting to pick up. It could be anywhere.”

  “Then it looks like we’re doing some Dumpster diving,” Kerry said to Thomas.

  Lance inhaled. “Oh, do let us tag along. Pretty please.”

  Thomas nodded. “Yeah, we need you both to show us exactly where you were. What about Clarissa? Do either of you know anything about her?”

  “She’s married to Roger, my architect, and she’s head of the arts council. I don’t know much more about her, other than for some reason she isn’t a fan of mine.”

  “That can’t be true. What’s not to love about Ashland’s pastry goddess?” Thomas said with a half smile. “Did she react to the incident? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary? And, are you sure she didn’t drink anything?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. She took a glass, but maybe she never took a drink.”

  “Then I guess we should find her first,” Thomas said, motioning us toward the exit.

  Lance walked in stride with Detective Kerry. “Do tell, Lady in Red, will you be scrounging through the trash in this? Because, if so, I’m going to need to film it for posterity.”

  Detective Kerry smiled. A genuine smile that gave her face a lightness I’d never seen. Her green eyes glimmered. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Lance whipped his head around and dropped his jaw. He grinned in eager excitement and mouthed, “O—M—G!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A handful of guests lingered over slices of cake when we returned to Uva. Otherwise, the vineyard was quiet except for the Ashland Springs crew. They stacked chairs and tore down tables. Carlos and Ramiro were in the mix, carrying trays loaded with empty plates and glasses into the kitchen.

  Thomas whipped out his flashlight. “Hold up, everyone,” he called, holding the light beneath his chin which gave his face an odd glow. He looked more like he was telling a ghost story around a campfire than trying to lock down a crime scene. “Police! We need everyone to stop what you’re doing and stay exactly where you are.”

  A murmur sounded through the staff. Thomas turned to Detective Kerry. His eyes moved from her head to her ankles. “I’ll start going through the wine bottles and dishes if you want to interrogate the remaining guests and the crew.”

  She nodded to me and Lance. “What about these two? Apparently, this one wants to go Dumpster diving.” Was I mistaken or did she wink at Lance.

  “We’ll help him look for the wine bottle,” Lance said, yanking my arm and pulling me toward the deck.

  “Ouch.” I rubbed my shoulder. “That hurt.”

  “Not worse than being sidelined by the femme-fatale detective,” Lance replied. “I would have absolutely died to see her dig through the trash in that runway dress, but apparently your boy toy Thomas came to her rescue.”

  “True.” I thought for a moment. “Wait, how will we know which bottle it is? They all look the same.”

  Lance let out an exasperated sigh. “This is no time to be a voice of reason. For starters, we’ll look at the scene of the crime, and from there who knows? Maybe it will be obvious that one of the bottles was tampered with, or maybe one of them will have a skull and crossbones on it.”

  “Unlikely,” Thomas said. “But it’s worth a shot.”

  We stopped at the spot where I had abandoned the tray. “This is it,” I said to Thomas, scanning the grass. There was no sign of the tray or wine bottle.

  Thomas ran the beam of his flashlight in parallel lines, sweeping across the grass. Most of the tables in the area had already been flattened and stacked for the delivery truck to pick up in the morning. “Nothing.”

  “It was a long shot, wasn’t it?” I asked.

  He clicked the light on and off a couple times. “Yeah. I think our best bet is to collect every wine bottle as evidence. We can put them in my squad car and I’ll take them to the lab in Medford.”

  “Every wine bottle?” Lance repeated. “How big is your squad car? Did you see how much wine was consumed? This was an evening of merriment and people certainly got merry.”

  Thomas wasn’t deterred. “Then I guess we’ll fill the car.” He shined the flashlight on the steps so that we could see where we were going.

  “Actually, we only need the white wine bottles,” I said, following them up the steps onto the deck. The serving dishes, linens, and tables had all been put away. The deck now felt spacious.

  “Let’s get to it.” Thomas held the door open for me. He repeated instructions for the three staff members on kitchen cleanup to step away from their tasks. “Jules, do you have gloves? If not, I have some in the car. I don’t want either of you to touch anything without gloves on.”

  I walked to the far cabinet to get a box of gloves. Thomas directed Lance and me to sort through the boxes of empty wine bottles waiting to be recycled. Then he examined the dirty glasses sitting next to the sink.

  “I never pegged you as a Dumpster diver, darling.” Lance tried to keep the mood light as we shuffled through the wine bottles.

  “And I never thought I would be looking for a poisoned bottle at my mom’s wedding.”

  He placed a bottle into the box. “Touché. Touché.”

  “How did you leave things with Leo?”

  “He’s meeting me at Torte tomorrow morning with his little legion of
minions.”

  “Do you really think that Megan could be working for him too?”

  Lance held a bottle up to the light before putting it in the box. “I thought I saw something on the lip of the bottle but it’s just a crack. I’m not sure, but when she’s released tomorrow I’m going to have a chat with her. Something isn’t right. I can’t put my finger on what exactly, but I feel it in my theater bones.”

  “Your theater bones?”

  “Darling, it’s late. We’re sorting trash. My father has died and you were almost poisoned. Cut me some slack. Yes, I’m a master at crafting cunning one-liners, but I can’t always be at my best.”

  I tried to think of a funny retort, but I felt the same. The kitchen had been cleaned and Chef Garrison’s staff had boxed up the leftovers. Garlands and vases were piled on one of the tables. Twinkle lights and paper lanterns had been taken down. Napkins and linens sat in baskets, awaiting a trip to the dry cleaner. A few hours ago, this space was alive with food and flavor. Now it smelled like bleach. I knew that feeling nostalgic after a wedding was normal, but what had happened to Megan added a layer of bleakness to the already strange mood.

  Once we had sorted the bottles and taken them to Thomas’s car, we waited for further instructions. Carlos and Ramiro must have finished being questioned by Detective Kerry because they came inside. Ramiro looked shaken.

  “Julieta, what is this about?” Carlos didn’t waste any time. He marched over to us and put his hands on his hips. “This is not right. Why are the police asking so many questions? Where have you been? I have been looking for you for at least one hour. Were you with the police? I don’t understand.”

  I started to respond, but Lance held out a hand to stop me. He curled his index finger, motioning Carlos and Ramiro closer. “There’s been a poisoning.” He emphasized the word “poison.”

  “Someone slipped poison into the wine.”