by Hillary Avis
“I think Chuck commented that the food tasted like it was from expired cans. He was being rhetorical.”
Milo nodded. “I remember that, too. I didn’t take Chuck’s comments as serious, but it seemed like Trent did.”
They were all quiet for a few minutes as the judges tasted Monsieur Adrian’s chili. They all seemed relaxed and positive during his presentation.
“Look, it’s your turn, Bethany!” Charley said, grinning.
Bethany cringed. Ugh, it’s horrifying to see yourself from the back! “Here it comes—wait for the spit-take.”
Milo rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is going to be good!”
On the screen, Trent Gallagher took one bite of her chili and his eyes began watering. He clawed his throat, and then blindly scrabbled for his bottle of water, knocking it off the table. He lunged for his other bottle of water but overshot and grabbed Chuck’s bottle instead. He gulped the water, then grabbed Chuck’s second bottle of water and drank that, too.
Bethany gasped.
Charley paused the recording. “What?”
“The water! The poison could be in the water!” Bethany felt the heat rising in her face as her adrenaline surged. “We know it wasn’t on the rulebook, right? And it wasn’t in the chili, based on the other video. So it has to be the water. Judge Gallagher didn’t drink his own water—he drank Chuck’s by accident!”
Charley frowned. “Why would Chuck poison his own water?”
“That’s just it—he wouldn’t! He didn’t!” Bethany babbled. She took a deep breath to calm herself so she could formulate a coherent sentence. “I think maybe the poison wasn’t for Trent Gallagher. It was for Chuck!”
“Oh, man.” Milo rubbed his forehead and sat down on the edge of Charley’s desk. “That means all of our theories about why someone would want to kill Trent are useless. All our interviews are garbage...ugh.”
“Hold on,” Charley said. “Maybe not. You still have your notes. There could be something there.”
“So you think maybe I’m right?” Bethany asked worriedly.
Charley nodded. “I mean, I’m not going to bet money on any theory right now, but it’s worth considering. The judge definitely drank something he wasn’t supposed to. And it explains why Ned would accidentally be poisoned. It’s far more likely that he came in contact with something intended for Chuck than something intended for Trent—someone who wasn’t even at the meeting.”
Bethany nodded. “True. OK, then we can rule out Garrett. He didn’t like Chuck, but he had nothing against him, either.”
“Fine,” Charley said. “And we can rule out Clementine Gourd for the same reason as before. She has no connection to the judges.”
Well...a teeny tiny connection. Bethany shook her head. Clementine wasn’t capable of murder. Plus, she and Chuck were working together now—she wouldn’t have a change of heart that quickly if she thought Chuck could expose her secret.
“And Monsieur Adrian’s grudge against the judge is a moot point if the judge wasn’t the intended target,” Milo chimed in. “He didn’t have a problem with Chuck that we’re aware.”
“That we’re aware,” Bethany echoed. “We don’t know much about him, do we?”
“That just leaves Alex Vadecki.” Charley sat down on her desk next to Milo. Her feet didn’t touch the ground like his did, and when she swung her heels, she looked younger than her thirty years. “He may have wanted revenge for all of Chuck’s bullying.”
“Twenty-five years later?” Bethany wrinkled her nose. “That seems like strange timing, since he could have had his revenge any time before that. Plus, why would he tell Chuck about Trent’s affair before he poisoned him? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe he was trying to sabotage the show by pitting Chuck and Trent against each other,” Milo suggested. “Take them both down at once, and then he has Mimi to himself.”
“Hm.” Charley looked doubtful. “I don’t see that. If anything, drama between the judges would make better TV, not worse. And if he poisoned Chuck during the taping, it’s likely the show wouldn’t air at all.”
Bethany’s heart despaired. They weren’t getting anywhere with this new line of thinking. If anything, there was even less evidence of who had it out for Chuck than there had been for Trent Gallagher. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to figure this out. And Chuck Bolton is still in danger. The poisoner has tried to kill him twice now—there’s no reason to think he won’t try again.”
“He or she,” Charley corrected. “And I don’t think Chuck’s in any immediate danger.”
“What are you talking about? Any time he eats or drinks, he could be ingesting the poison.”
Charley shook her head. “The poisoner has only acted during these gatherings, where there are lots of possible suspects and delivery methods. Chuck’s fine, as long as he doesn’t attend a big event.”
“You mean like the awards ceremony tomorrow?” Milo asked.
Bethany paled. “Oh no! We have to warn him!”
“Maybe so,” Charley said, but her voice was hesitant. “Actually...hm.”
“What?” Bethany gaped at her. How can Charley keep this kind of information from a potential victim?!
“Well, it might be a way to catch the poisoner in the act. We could watch Chuck and make sure he doesn’t eat or drink anything that could be contaminated, of course.”
“Alex Vadecki and Clementine Gourd are catering the event,” Milo added. “It’s the perfect opportunity for one of them to administer the poison.”
“We’ll watch them, too.” Charley’s eyes were bright and her voice grew more and more confident as she spoke. “This could really solve this thing!”
“You can’t let them serve food until the killer is caught!” Bethany said, horrified. “Tons of people will be there!”
Charley put her hand on Bethany’s shoulder and patted her gently. “Don’t worry. We know the poisoner isn’t interested in hurting a crowd. Otherwise they could have poisoned a big pot of chili at the cook-off and taken out half the town. And if we’re wrong about Chuck being the target, then there’s nothing to worry about, right? Trent Gallagher is already dead.”
Milo nodded in agreement with Charley. “Chuck Bolton can’t keep his ego in check. If we let him know that he’s the target, he will find a way to incorporate it into his show and the whole world will know—including the killer.”
“What if the killer doesn’t make a move at the event, though? Chuck will be on to the next location and still in danger!”
“We’ll tell him after the awards ceremony,” Charley said reassuringly. “I’m not trying to keep it from him forever. I just want to catch the killer unaware so we have a better chance of nabbing him in the act.”
Bethany shuddered. “It seems so risky.”
“It is.” Charley’s face was somber. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think it was the only way. I promise, I will be standing right behind Chuck. I’ll make sure nothing goes in his mouth that could be poisoned. Milo will watch Alex, and you can watch Clementine, and if you see any funny business, you can give me a signal.”
“I’m in!” Milo said. “This’ll be a great story.”
Bethany’s heart filled with dread, but she didn’t see another way. If they did nothing, Chuck would likely be poisoned. They had to do something, even if it was risky. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 17
CHARLEY’S SMILE STRETCHED ear-to-ear. “Phew. I was honestly worried you were going to bail on me.”
“You could always enlist Coop or someone else instead,” Bethany reminded her.
“Well.” Charley grimaced. “Actually, if I made this a police operation, the chief would definitely nix it. We’d probably have to shut down the whole event, and we’d never catch the poisoner.”
Bethany chuckled. “Now you tell me! I knew it was nuts.”
Charley hopped down from the desk and straightened her blazer. “You want to get some late lunch, j
ust you and me? Or early dinner? I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Bethany glance guiltily at Milo. He shook his head and waved her on. “It’s fine. I need to go file a story about our softball win, anyway. I can grab something on the way to the office.” He picked up his notebook and used it to salute them both, and then headed out the door.
The moment he closed the door behind him, Charley collapsed into one of the chairs as though she’d lost the ability to stand and flailed her limbs around.
Bethany giggled. “What’s up? Why are you suddenly boneless?”
“I am N-E-R-V-O-U-S,” Charley said, spelling each letter of the word. “Like, dying.”
“About the awards ceremony tomorrow? But you seemed so confident just a minute ago!”
“Nooo, not about that!” Charley covered her face with her hands. “About tonight!”
Bethany crinkled her forehead. “What’s tonight?”
Charley dropped her hands and fished a tiny box from her pocket and handed it to Bethany. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
Bethany cracked open the box to reveal a large, brilliant blue sapphire shining from a rose-gold setting. She gasped. “Is this an engagement ring?!”
Charley nodded, her cheeks flushed. “I saw it in the jewelry store window this morning and it just said Kimmy to me.”
Tears of joy sprung to Bethany’s eyes, and she blinked them away. “Honestly—it’s perfect. She will absolutely love it.”
“OK, she’ll love the ring, but does she love me?” Charley laughed shakily.
“She does.” Bethany smiled. Charley so rarely lacked confidence that her moment of vulnerability was incredibly endearing. Impulsively, Bethany hugged her. “She definitely does. And she is crazy if she doesn’t say yes to this ring.”
Charley glowed as she put the ring box back in her pocket. Bethany’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist. It’s going to be so amazing to watch those two get married. Of course, it was going to be painful, too—painful saying goodbye to this chapter of her life. She and Kimmy had been roommates for so long, it almost felt like they were married!
Now she’d need to find a new roommate, or a room to rent somewhere. Did Olive and Garrett have a spare room? Or would she need to suck it up and move back in with Mom and Dad? They’d be in her business all day and night.
I’ll never hear the end of it—“You’re homeless and dating a homeless guy?!”
Oh no.
The date.
Tonight was the date with Ryan.
Bethany’s heart started pounding. No time for a leisurely late lunch.
“I’m sooo sorry, but I just remembered I have a date in like”—she checked the clock on the wall—“less than two hours. I have to go home and change!”
“With Milo?”
Bethany shook her head, blushing. “No, that guy Ryan.”
“I see!” Charley grinned impishly at her. “Bethany’s shopping around. I don’t know how I feel about you stepping out on my dude.”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “Milo and I had one date. We’re not even a couple yet.”
“Well, may this date bomb spectacularly.” Charley winked.
Bethany raised her eyebrows. “May yours end spectacularly, too—but with a ring on Kimmy’s finger!”
Charley held out her fist, and Bethany bumped it lightly with her own. “Good luck,” they said simultaneously.
Charley added, “We’ll need it.”
Chapter 18
TUESDAY EVENING
BETHANY SPOTTED RYAN when she was still halfway down the block. It was hard to miss his broad shoulders and lean form silhouetted against the ocean and early evening sky. She coasted up to him, dragging one foot to slow her bike as she approached. He turned when he heard her, a blinding-white smile lighting up his tanned face. Yum.
“You came,” he said, sounding delighted. He reached out and pulled her into a hug even while she was still straddling her bike.
“Of course I did.” She dismounted awkwardly and locked her bike to a rack near the bus stop. She rubbed her hands on her jeans. The one downside to biking everywhere was that it made her hands clammy. “Did you think I’d stand you up?”
He laughed, the sound so free and easy. Why is he always so relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world? “I prefer to think of you like a butterfly. You’ll fly down to visit, but I don’t own you. You could just as easily decide to land somewhere else, and that’s fine, too. Who am I to pin you down?”
Was he talking about her dating Milo? Bethany shifted uncomfortably. “Well, here I am, flitting down on my bike.”
He laughed again and grabbed her hand. “Is this OK? How do butterflies feel about holding hands by the sea?” The electric feel of his touch sent a tingle up her arm.
“Um...they like it.” She mentally kicked herself for being so awkward all the time. She shook her head. “Let’s walk.”
They headed down the path that wound along the shore and led from the bus stop to the boardwalk, swinging their hands occasionally. The ocean was calm tonight, lapping gently at the rocks, and Bethany felt happiness welling in her chest.
Even if this relationship can’t go anywhere, I can enjoy this guilt-free. He’s not spending any money on me and the whole thing is low pressure. This is a perfect date. She let the tension melt from her back and shoulders and gave his hand a little squeeze.
He squeezed back and turned to her. “Hey, do you like ice cream?”
She couldn’t help giggling. “Doesn’t everyone like ice cream?”
“I’m not interested in everyone. I’m interested in you.” He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her toward him. “What’s your flavor?”
Melted. That’s my flavor. “Um, let’s see what they have.” She tugged him toward the ice cream stand, embarrassed that she was having such a strong reaction to him. She scanned the menu board, studiously avoiding his gaze. He seemed more interested in what she was going to choose than in choosing something himself. “Um, I’ll have vanilla, please.”
The young woman behind the counter flashed a smile. “You got it.”
“Do you always order vanilla?” Ryan asked.
Bethany shook her head. “No—but I’ve had it here before. They make their own, and they get their vanilla beans from my friend Yasmin. It’s pretty amazing stuff.”
“You know Yasmin?” Ryan’s face lit up.
Bethany nodded. “I get all my spices from her. How do you know her?”
“She went with my family to Brazil last year,” he said. “That’s where my mom is from. Mom showed her where to buy coloral—it only grows in the rainforest—and achiote.”
Bethany raised her eyebrows. Ryan has family nearby—I had no idea. Before she could say anything, the woman working at the ice cream stand handed her the vanilla cone and asked Ryan, “Acai?”
Bethany looked at him in surprise. “You have a regular order?”
He nodded guiltily. “I come here a lot.”
She laughed at his hangdog expression. “I guess there are worse vices than ice cream!”
He grinned at her and took out his wallet to pay for the ice cream.
“Oh no, let me!” she said, swinging her purse around and unzipping it with one hand.
He shook his head firmly. “It’s on me. I owe you one—I never would have known about the mural restoration if you hadn’t mentioned it on Saturday, and I’m really glad you pushed me to give it a try. It’s been so rewarding to be a part of Newbridge history. I can’t wait for you to see it tomorrow—I’m unveiling it at the awards ceremony!”
“I can’t argue with that,” she said, closing her purse. He just got a paycheck, so he’s probably feeling flush. She wished he’d save it toward getting an apartment, but it was just ice cream, after all. “Congratulations on finishing the restoration so quickly!”
“Thanks!” He paid for the ice cream and took a lick of his cone. “It was in pretty great shape because it
had been behind a wall for a few decades. I really only had to touch up a few areas. Whoever painted it was a master—I was so honored to work on it that I actually donated my fee to the restoration fund.”
Bethany’s jaw dropped. Why was this guy, who had nothing to his name, giving away the few dollars he earned? Why was he so intent on avoiding success? Suddenly her ice cream didn’t taste as good anymore. She looked sideways at him and his face was as smooth and unconcerned as always as he happily ate his ice cream and stared out at the waves.
“Well, I hope this leads to other projects that are equally rewarding once people see what an amazing job you did.”
He turned to her and smiled. “You know, I love how supportive you are of my art. It’s really refreshing. I think my family would rather I did something more...I don’t know. Serious.”
Serious isn’t such a bad thing. Serious pays the bills, doesn’t it? But who was she to talk? She was living hand-to-mouth so she could pursue her culinary dreams, when she could be making bank as a lawyer. “Honestly, I’m in the same situation. My family thinks it’s ridiculous that I want to cook for a living. They think it’s beneath me.”
“Have they tasted your cooking? You’re like a fairy princess with a wooden spoon wand—you make magic in the kitchen.”
She giggled as she looked down at her jeans and sneakers. She was hardly fairy princess material. “Nobody’s ever described me that way before.”
“Then nobody else has their eyes open.” He switched his ice cream to the other hand so he could grab hers again. “Let’s see if I can eat left-handed.”
They strolled down the pier, past the statue of the fisherman, the fish and chips stand, and the little boarded-up booths that would be filled with games and trinkets in a few more weeks. They sat on a bench near the end of the pier and watched the fishing vessels and pleasure boats coming back into the marina for the night.
“This is pretty perfect.” Ryan finished the last of his ice cream and nudged her with his elbow. She felt her whole body warm to his familiar touch, and she couldn’t help wishing that things could go somewhere with him. But where could they go? A walk and an ice cream was as far as they could take it—as much as they could afford, literally.
