by Valley Sams
“A worse decision than murdering an old friend?” Louis asked, snubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray before him.
Samuel paused and then looked up, his eyes steady and dry. “Yes. Yes, it was much, much worse. Getting the poison was easy. I knew Benson’s penchant for drinking before competitions. All I needed to do was put strychnine in the beer I gifted him with….” He made a casual gesture, “Open the beer, and slip in the poison, recap the beer. I even put a little extra in his mug, just for insurance. You should’ve seen how pleased he was when I presented him with his precious six-pack. You’d almost have thought he was looking for some kind of forgiveness…”
“The bottle opener in your room.” Mac said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice as much as possible. “You did it in there and then threw out the vials when you were done.”
“Clever, Officer Mackenzie. Very observant.”
“Officer?” Louis shot Mac an amused look. She blushed and quickly changed the topic.
“What about the chocolate?” she asked.
“Yeah. How did you manage to slip something in there?” Brie spoke up from her position against the wall; her legs stretched out like a surly teen.
“It was delicious by the way,” he said, “you have quite a gift.” It was Brie’s turn to blush.
“Brenda had to have the first taste, predictably. Then, when I leaned down to pick up mine, I made sure to add a little something extra to Benson’s. No one noticed of course, I had planned on Brenda’s penchant for drawing as much attention to herself as possible to work in my favor. When he fell? Seeing him the floor…”
He sighed and shook his head.
“Your chocolates are sweet, my dear,” he said, turning himself to Sabrina. “Very sweet. But revenge? It’s far sweeter.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
With the buzz of the chocolate convention finally dispersed, ‘The Pounding Gavel’ was almost completely empty. There was one couple, excessively wrapped around each other in the corner, but most of the noise in the establishment was coming from the bar itself.
At least three drinks in, Mac, Louis, Brie and Brenda were leaning against the polished wood with the kind of glow that only a good martini can bring. Brenda was in the center of the group and was loudly insisting on another round.
She tossed her golden mane over her shoulder and bent toward the bar tender at just the right angle to push her impressive (if store bought) bosoms out even further.
“Sweetheart, grab us all another round of those blackberry thingies you made me the other night.”
“No, no, no, no….” Mac insisted, “You’ve already bought all the rounds. We should call it quits.”
Brie rapidly balled up one of the bar napkins and tossed it at Mac’s head.
“Don’t listen to her,” Brie crowed.
“She’s obviously far too sober for her own good,” Louis said. “I’ll take a double…” Mac doubted the bartender had even heard him; he was far too interested in Brenda’s display. He just smiled in the general direction of her chest and set about preparing her favorite ‘blackberry thingies’.
Brenda, her breath sweet with simple syrup and vodka leaned over and embraced Mac like only drunk southerners can.
“You…you sweet little thing. If it weren’t for you…Well, if it weren’t for all of you, I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Prison would not have agreed with me, not at all.”
“It’s not supposed to agree with anyone, actually.” Louis tipped the last of his martini down.
“Except Cheryl,” Mac said. “I have a feeling it will be old home week for her.”
“You think she’ll be glad to get back? Be with her old friends again?” Brie chuckled.
Brenda shone her mega-watt smile at the bartender as he slid their drinks across the antique wood. She raised the frosty purple glass.
“To Cheryl and her multiple convictions. May she never sell another drop of poison again.”
The clink of their glasses was loud enough to break the couple in the corner’s embrace for a split second. They glared and then went back to devouring each other.
“Now that store is empty again, you should consider renting it out yourself, selling copies of that new herbal chocolate cookbook you’re working on,” Mac said. “Make it like a Brenda Davies merchandise shop.”
Brenda laughed.
“Oh honey, no. The only store in town I’m having carrying that book I’ve been working on is yours. Help to draw the customers in.”
“That’s the last thing we need,” Brie said. “We can barely keep our shop stocked as it is. It’s like an obsession around here.”
“That’s the price you pay for love. Chocolates or men. Ask me, I should know,” Brenda purred, stroking Brie’s cheek drunkenly.
The two began a conversation about Brenda’s book and the proper way to combine herbal and sweet notes in chocolate. Mac attempted to listen, but now on her fourth martini she was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate.
She felt Louis wrap his arm around her waist from where he stood behind her. She fell back into his chest, enjoying the leanness of him against her. Yes, they had confessed their love over the phone, but they still hadn’t actually said it in person. Saying ‘it’ was ending up being much more difficult than she had thought. There was a very real part of her that was terrified that if she did, it would be met with silence, or worse…amusement. Louis was not the easiest person to read. Was it possible that it was something that he had been regretting since he said it? After all, she was the first…
“I do, you know,” he said into her ear. Her blackberry thingy suspended in midair, she was surprised when he let go of her and spun her, stool and all, to face him. “I know you probably think that I’ve been avoiding it, or that it was a one off…but I do.”
“You do what…” Mac said, blinking furiously. Of course she knew what he was talking about, she was just a little taken aback at his apparent ability to read minds.
“Don’t play coy, Mackenzie.” He took the martini from her hand and placed it on the bar. “I do. Very deeply and very, very frighteningly. Just two days without you was borderline disastrous. I barely slept, couldn’t eat…Absolute wreck.”
“I won’t put you in that position again.” Mac said, unable to look away from him as he stooped over her. He put one finger under her pointed little chin.
“I hope you do. I’m starting to think I wouldn’t be able to find my socks without you, let alone solve a murder. I love it when you help…. I love you.”
He pressed his lips against hers, warm and sticky like the ripest of blackberries.
She felt she should reciprocate and break off the kiss to tell him how much she adored him, too…but who was she kidding? He knew. She abandoned herself to the kiss, thrilling at the feeling of his slim fingers cupping the back of her head.
This man had made his way into her heart, and now her head. If that wasn’t obsession, she didn’t know what was. According to Brenda however, it was just the price she had to pay. She had a feeling she could afford it…
