Fudge Brownies & Murder

by Janel Gradowski

  Maybe the sisters' relationship wasn't as rocky as it seemed. The whole "blood is thicker than water thing"—especially during a time of crisis. "I can do that," Amy pulled her phone out of her coat pocket. "What's her number?"

  "I don't know." Rayshelle ran her fingers through her orange hair which left behind a trail of matted spikes on the side of her head. The sweet tea was drying, turning into a food-based styling gel. "Her number's on my phone. I left my purse in the booth."

  "Pick your feet up," Amy instructed. She threaded each leg of the yoga pants over Rayshelle's black tennis shoes. It was sort of like dressing an adult-sized baby. Amy backed out of the stall and swung the door shut. "Finish getting dressed. I'll go get your purse."

  Wet floor signs were set up in the aisle around Southern Gals. LeighAnne was scrubbing the tomato sauce stain on the divider wall while her remaining employee wiped down the Plexiglas hood of the steam table to remove the brown polka dots of tea that had splashed on it. Both women had every right to be furious with Rayshelle.

  "Excuse me." Amy smiled at the dark haired helper. "Could I get Rayshelle's purse? I guess she left it here. I'm trying to get her out of the market so she can recover in private."

  LeighAnne responded to the request. She pulled a key ring out of her jeans pocket and unlocked the drawer of a filing cabinet that sat under the table filled with containers. The small, black fabric cross-body bag that she pulled out wasn't what Amy had expected. It was so plain and understated. LeighAnne handed the purse to Amy. "I don't understand why you're helping her, but I can see she needs it. Esther Mae would appreciate what you're doing."

  "That's because she always had a soft spot for her drug addict relatives."

  The unexpected voice, growling inches from her ear, sent a shot of ice into Amy's veins. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of the purse. She slowly turned her head. Buck stood just a few inches behind her, definitely an invasion of personal space. His eyes sparkled, but she couldn't tell if it was anger or glee causing the ocular fireworks. Or maybe, considering the earlier encounter, he was excited to get that close to her. Ewwww!

  Amy slowly released a breath that had been hanging out in her lungs for way too long. "And I have a soft spot for people who need help. A little kindness can go a long way in situations where it isn't expected."

  The yoga philosophy lesson stunned Buck into silence. She imagined her words clanking around his testosterone-soaked mind. Clink. Clank. Boom! While he was busy pondering the statement, Amy took the chance to leave. When she made it back into the bathroom, Rayshelle had made a few improvements. She was completely dressed in Amy's clothes. The purple V-neck T-shirt and black pants actually fit her quite well. Hurray for stretchy clothes! Plus she was solidly standing in front of a sink using a wet paper towel to wipe off the mascara and lipstick streaks produced by the tea deluge and puke fest.

  "Here's your purse," Amy said as she set it on the white, subway tile counter next to the sink. "I'll take you wherever you would like, as long as someone is there to help you."

  Rayshelle tossed the colorful ball of paper toward the waste bin. It missed by two feet and rolled into the corner. She grabbed her purse with one hand and used the other to hold on to the counter for balance as she slowly inched toward the metal bench in the corner of the restroom. "Somebody put something in my food or coffee. I haven't gotten this stoned since my mom was sentenced to life in prison."

  Amy grabbed Rayshelle's elbow to help her accomplish the tricky task of sitting. "You think you've been drugged, but you swear you didn't take anything?"

  She nodded. On the upswing, the back of her head cracked the wall. "Ouch. Yup. No bout a-doubt it. I'm high."

  It took several attempts for Rayshelle to get the passcode correct to unlock her phone. When she finally managed the task, Amy took over and arranged to meet a very surprised Shantelle at a nearby gas station. Instead of walking the unsteady, inebriated older sister through the crowded market, she led her out of the bathroom and straight through the door to the back room, which was thankfully at the end of the same hallway. After depositing her on an improvised milk crate stool near the loading dock doors, Amy instructed, "Stay here. I'll go get my car."

  Amy worked up a sweat rushing through the market a second time. The collar of her long-sleeved T-shirt was damp when she walked out the sliding door. The blast of cold air turned the fabric band into an icicle necklace. When she pulled Mimi around to the loading docks, getting Rayshelle down the steps by the door then into the car was like wrangling Jell-O. The uncomfortable situation just kept getting more miserable.

  The three-block drive to the gas station was quiet as Rayshelle rested her forehead on the side window and blankly stared at the buildings they passed by. Shantelle was standing by a pyramid of blue windshield washer fluid jugs, wearing the coat Amy had given her at the food giveaway. She yanked open the passenger door when Amy unlocked it. Rayshelle unlatched her seat belt but instead of getting out, leaned forward until her forehead rested on the dash.

  "Please don't get sick in my car," Amy pleaded.

  "Ain't anything left for me to puke. I just want off this freakin' Tilt-A-Whirl ride."

  Shantelle leaned down to look at Amy over her sister's back. "Holy shit, she's trashed. Can you drive us to my apartment? It'll take me all night to try to walk her there."

  She had obviously been way too optimistic to think that the reason they were meeting at a gas station was because Shantelle needed to put gas in her vehicle. "No problem. Get in and tell me how to get there."

  The four-unit apartment building had peeling gray paint and multiple cracked windows repaired with duct tape. It took both of them to guide Rayshelle up to the second-floor apartment. When Shantelle opened the door, Harlan was sitting in a tattered, brown, plaid recliner on the far side of the living room. Through the dusty window beside him, Amy could see his truck parked on the street behind the building.

  "What are you doing here?" Shantelle screeched. "I told you to stay away from me. Get out!"

  Rayshelle's full weight lurched onto Amy when her sister let go of her arm. Amy instinctively shoved one hand in her purse as she struggled to keep Rayshelle upright with her other arm. Her fingers locked onto the pepper spray canister as Harlan stood. His brain tattoo appeared to be pulsing when he yelled. "I'll say when this relationship is over." He moved until he was inches away from Shantelle then bent until their noses were almost touching. "We ain't over."

  "Change of plans. Let's try somewhere else to hang out." Even Amy could hear the fear in her own voice. "We all need to go. Now."

  "Can I lay down now?" Rayshelle slurred.

  "No. Run!"

  Amy pushed her toward the still open door while Shantelle lunged to the right to avoid a left hook thrown by Harlan. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rayshelle stagger out the doorway as the pepper spray filled his ear. Amy kept her finger on the canister's trigger. The stream of red liquid traced across his face as he turned toward Amy. Bulls-eye in his eye. He covered his face with his hands and yowled. Shantelle scurried past him with a dingy gray tote bag clutched in her hand. She skidded to a stop and turned back toward the stricken man. The silver-tipped toe of the pointiest pair of cowboy boots Amy had ever seen connected with his crotch. Shantelle may have been tiny, but she knew how to fight dirty. Harlan crumpled to the floor in a moaning, groaning heap.

  They bolted out the door and caught up with Rayshelle, who had made it to the downstairs landing all on her own. A task she couldn't have accomplished five minutes earlier. Danger had amazing sobering properties. "We have to hurry," Amy said. She caught Rayshelle by the elbow and pulled her outside. "Into the car, before he recovers."

  The steering wheel slammed into Amy's hip when she dropped into the driver's seat. She started the Mini. As soon as the other women scrambled in, she slammed the car into reverse. In the rear view mirror she could see Rayshelle crumpled across the back seat.

  "Where are you taking us?" S
hantelle asked as she stuffed the tote bag into the footwell between her legs. "He's going to come looking for me."

  "There's a women's shelter in town. It's very safe."

  "It won't be safe enough."

  Amy glanced sideways at her passenger. Gray streaks of mascara traced over her cheeks—a river tributary map rendered in makeup and anguish. "He won't hurt you if he's back in jail. I can make a phone call… I know a police officer. I'm willing to bet those nice, stainless steel appliances that are in the bed of Harlan's truck don't belong to him."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The heavy shopping bag thumped against Amy's thigh as she walked around the corner and was greeted by a face full of wind that felt as though it had come to Kellerton via the North Pole. She didn't realize it was that windy while walking along Main Street. The buildings had provided excellent protection from the elements. Tears ran down her cheeks as she faced the gale and made her way back to the Quantum Media building. She and Alex were going out for an early dinner—or late lunch, but he had needed to check on something at his business first. Since it was right around the corner from the Cookbook Nook, Amy decided to do some baby shower shopping. The book on making homemade baby food was adorable, filled with smiling babies gobbling up colorful vegetable purees and detailed recipes that even novice cooks could follow. There was never a wrong time to give a cookbook as a gift, in her opinion.

  Since Quantum was closed on the weekend, Amy had to trek around to the employee entrance at the back of the building, which Alex had left unlocked for her. The dinner out was a peace-making mission. Ever since she freaked out about having a baby, things had been a bit chilled between her and her husband. Her reaction had taken both of them by surprise. So they mutually decided to get back on track by spending some quality time with each other and good food.

  Amy slipped into the sleek building and took the stairs up to the second story. The door was open to Alex's office. She knocked quietly on the wall beside the door frame as she slipped into the room. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."

  He flipped the screen of his laptop down. "Perfect timing." He motioned for her to come closer. "I'm all done, but I thought maybe we could have some fun before we hit the restaurant. I didn't make reservations, so we don't have to worry about the time."

  She tossed the shopping bag on the credenza where he kept his files and perched on the corner of Alex's desk. "What kind of fun are you talking about?"

  Alex nodded his head toward the sleek black leather couch that sat against the sidewall of his office. "I just got that, and I have to say, it's really comfortable. Lots of room. I took a nap on it a few days ago after I had to come in early." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I figure if it's comfy for a solo nap, it would be fine for other horizontal activities involving two people."

  Amy looked at the couch. Then she looked at the window behind Alex. She could see curtains and potted plants in the windows of several apartments located above the Main Street businesses. It was a dark, gray day and lamplight illuminated several of the residences. "I like your proposal, but your giant window might cause a problem. Since it's still daylight, I can't exactly shut the lights off to give us some privacy like I did in the kitchen."

  He punched a button on a remote that sat next to his closed laptop. An opaque, gray shade descended from the ceiling in front of the problematic window, blocking the view and most of the cloud-filtered sunlight. "Better?"

  "Yes, sir." She used her foot to swing the door shut as she passed by on her way to the improvised bed. They were enclosed in a twilight-hued cocoon.

  Alex had been right. The couch was a nice place to add some adventurous spice to their sex life. That was until someone knocked on the unlocked office door. The naughty encounter went from romantically exciting to fervently hoping one of his employees didn't get a glimpse of their boss and his wife in the buff.

  Alex used an excuse to stall opening his office door, but Amy didn't hear what he said because she was too busy trying to wriggle back into her skinny jeans without pulling a thigh muscle. She had just zipped up her knee-high boots when Alex opened the door and said, "Jarod. What a surprise to see you here today."

  The man appeared startled by Amy's presence, so she decided to save them all the awkwardness and excused herself. As she was walking down the hall, she heard the graphic designer explain that he had seen the Jeep in the parking lot and decided to stop to see if they could talk about a project. The men's voices echoed through the empty hallways of the building as she slinked away for some fashion maintenance. Alex was still chatting about a scoreboard in a baseball stadium when she emerged from the restroom after doing a quick hair tidying session. She had been sporting a serious case of bed head. There was a floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway that overlooked the street. Since she could hear the conversation was still ongoing with no signs of wrapping up, she decided to check out the view. Her knees were still feeling a little wobbly from the very energetic impromptu romantic rendezvous. Amy leaned against the wall beside the window and watched people strolling along the sidewalk.

  A man and woman emerged from a silver Prius parked half a block away. She recognized the walnut-colored curls of the woman. It was like her superpower, thanks to formerly being a hairdresser, recognizing people by their haircuts. Candi stood on her tippy-toes and kissed the tall, dark, and handsome man who had been the passenger in the same car. Instead of a winter coat, he wore a long, white lab coat. He crossed the street and disappeared from sight.

  The hallways on the second floor of the Quantum Media building formed a plus sign with full windows at each end. Amy sprinted around the corner of the hallway. When she reached the window that overlooked the street the man was walking down, she spotted him pulling open the door to a business. She squinted to read the sign. It was a pharmacy.

  Amy backtracked to Alex's office. She rapped on the open door and said, "Since you're busy, I'm going to go on a quick shopping trip. I'll be back in a few minutes."

  "Okay. Have fun," Alex called from the other side of the door.

  She had left her coat in her husband's office, but the bulky fisherman's sweater would be warm enough for the quick trip across the street. When she exited through the back door, the cold was…bracing. At least her body was nice and toasty from the best cardio workout in the world.

  Anderson Compounding Pharmacy was new to downtown Kellerton. She had seen an announcement in the Downtown Business Association's newsletter that had been delivered to Riverbend Café. Amy pulled open the same door that the man had disappeared behind. She entered a small gift shop area filled with candles, costume jewelry, and assorted knickknacks. At the back of the cozy store, the shelves full of bottles and boxes—the accoutrements of the pharmacy—were visible through a wall of windows.

  Candi's hottie in a lab coat was chatting with a customer at the pick-up window. He and the vegan extremist made a lovely couple. At least visually. What kind of personality yin went with her crazy yang?

  Amy checked out a display of dangly rhinestone earrings while the pharmacist chatted with the elderly customer. When the woman wandered away from the window, Amy stepped up to it. "Excuse me. I was wondering what a compounding pharmacy does. It's a term that I'm not familiar with."

  The pharmacist, named Thad, according to the embroidered patch on his lab coat, flashed a toothpaste commercial-worthy smile. "We make medications based on a patient's needs. So custom dosages, formulations that don't include unnecessary ingredients, different forms like liquid or capsules…basically we do customized prescriptions. We can even add flavoring to make things like children's medicines easier to take."

  That last nugget of information would be useful to Carla. The rest could be of great interest to her husband. Esther Mae had taken a lethal dose of the wrong medication because it had been altered to look exactly like the high blood pressure medicine she took every day. Shepler had shared that important clue with her to see if she could make any sense of it after
all of his research had come to dead ends.

  "That's fascinating. I'll definitely come back the next time I need a prescription filled."

  "Please do. We love new customers."

  Amy turned to leave, but a display of pink and blue in the far corner caught her attention. The baby area. She walked around the shelves picking up stuffed bunny rabbits and bibs screen printed with pink elephants while a steady series of bings signaled new customers entering the pharmacy and gift shop. Everything in the baby display was adorable, but an apple-green mat with a divided plate molded right into the flexible silicone was ingenious. A plate and placemat all in one. It would be the perfect accompaniment to the baby food cookbook.

  She picked out two mats, one green and one red, then headed to the checkout counter near the door. After making the purchase she steeled herself for a few seconds before proceeding to the front door. She had lost all of the Alex-generated body heat while perusing the gift area. It was going to be a cold walk back to Quantum. Amy glanced over her shoulder. There was a new person chatting with the model-perfect, drug-altering pharmacist. Rori. From afar, the conversation looked rather flirty. The yoga instructor smiled and tilted her head to the side as she laughed at something he said.

  Amy had only pushed the door open a few inches as she observed the conversation. Suddenly the handle she was grasping moved on its own. The momentum propelled her outside, onto the sidewalk. "Sorry," a man in a navy-blue business suit said as Amy flailed past him. "I didn't see you."

  "No problem," she mumbled as she hoisted the strap of her purse back onto her shoulder. All of the yoga classes with Rori had actually given her a bit more grace and agility, but it wasn't easy to instantly gain composure after being unexpectedly yanked out a doorway.

  Her mind was on overload as she walked back toward the parking lot where Alex's black Jeep was parked. She could feel the blood pumping through the veins in her neck, a result of the surprise of being forcefully ejected from the pharmacy. The unexpected discovery of the man who could easily disguise low blood pressure medication as the high blood pressure pills that Esther Mae needed to take was very friendly with two suspects in the murder case. Okay, so one was a suspect only in Shepler's book, and the other one was a suspect only in her eyes, but they were both tied to the case in some way.