by Lori Woods
“This cat is lazy,” Marie lightly trailed her finger along the cat’s head. He made a satisfied sound and twisted his body so that his belly was exposed. She shook her head at him, but there was a fond smile on her face. “And no, this isn’t good. Now we know why I’m a suspect.”
“Do you poison rats?” Clary asked curiously.
“You don’t have enough information,” Marie told her severely. “You need to know more before you start guessing. Strychnine is highly dangerous. A person only needs to eat a little before they die. It also shows up very quickly. A person doesn’t survive long.”
“Like Eddie,” Clary said sadly.
“Yes.”
“I still don’t understand why you’d be a suspect,” Clary pointed out.
“Strychnine is very bitter, so to hide the taste, you put it with chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Clary echoed slowly. Her gaze was inexplicably drawn to the brownies on the counter. Suddenly the delicious little pyramid seemed sinister. She winced, and Marie nodded knowingly.
“Now we know,” Marie said heavily. She put her cookbook aside and sat up, her gaze going to the fire.
“I know you didn’t do this,” Clary assured her hurriedly. “We just need to convince the police about it too, then it will be okay.”
“No,” Marie said quickly. “We’ll stay out of it. I’m innocent, and the police will find out too.”
“Eddie had a lot of enemies,” Clary mused out loud. “We just need to find which one did this.”
“We need to stay in the store and make sure people don’t think I’m selling poisoned brownies,” Marie reasoned. “This is bad, winter is brownie time and it makes a lot of money. When people hear about this, they won’t buy.”
“I just need a list of his enemies,” Clary told her, “but I don’t know all of them. We weren’t friends. I need someone who knows all his enemies. Once I’ve got a list then we can start looking for the murderer.”
“You’ll lose a lot of money. Do you have enough savings to see us through to the end of the investigation? It might take months and months. Maybe we can borrow from the bank to get us through? Or maybe the police won’t tell people what they think?”
“Who’s the one person who knows everyone?” Clary tapped the counter as the machine started pouring out her hot chocolate. “Oh! I know. Erica will know. Okay, Marie, I’m going to Erica’s. See you later.”
“Are you listening to me?” Marie asked in annoyance. “We need to come up with a business plan. This isn’t going to be easy, Clary.”
“Yes, yes,” Clary waved dismissively as she put on her coat again. “You’re worried about money. As always. Look, Marie, the quickest way to make sure we don’t lose business is by pointing the police in the right direction. Valley Springs is a small town, people are probably already talking about this. Let’s divert their attention.”
“Clary,” Marie called, “we need to stay out of this! You’re going to make things worse!”
There was one thing about Clary that was obvious. She had a gift for positive thinking. She was also very stubborn. Once she was on the scent, it was nearly impossible to pull her off it. This was one of her most stubborn streaks ever, and Marie was too cold to go out and chase her down. So, she sat down and began thinking of non-chocolate treats to bake.
“Clary, hello. Why were the police there this morning?” Karen was Erica’s assistant. The only difference between Karen and Erica was that Erica already had her beautician’s certificate.
“Hi, Karen,” Clary greeted. She was so eager that she forgot to be annoyed by Karen’s personality. “Where’s Erica? I need to talk to her quickly.”
“She took the day off,” Karen explained.
Erica’s salon also doubled as a beauty supply store. Whenever she walked in, Clary was drawn to the shelves full of bright powders and various tools. She tapped a round plastic container full of purple glitter.
“When will she back?” Clary asked as she browsed through all the products. She didn’t often find herself in the salon, but when she did, she felt insecure about her own beauty regimen.
“I don’t know,” Karen shrugged. “To be honest, she’s all broken up about Eddie.” Her voice dipped as she leaned forward and spoke. Clary frowned at her. Why were gossips always so eager to turn on each other?
“Why?” Clary asked in confusion. “They weren’t friends.”
“They were much more than that,” Karen scoffed.
“What do you mean?” Clary asked, making her way further into the salon. Karen grinned and leaned even more forward. She was now resting most of her weight on her forearms and kneeling on her knees on her desk chair.
“They were seeing each other,” Karen said in a scandalized tone.
“I thought he was seeing Kelly?” Clary mused.
“He was, but he and Erica have been seeing each other in secret for months now. She said she was getting sick of all the lies and was going to tell him to choose between her and Kelly.”
“Did she do it?” Clary asked her.
“I don’t know,” Karen shrugged. “I think it was all talk. Erica’s bark is worse than her bite, to be honest. I think a part of her enjoyed the secrecy. I didn’t think it was going to last much longer. Eddie was getting serious about Kelly. He kept canceling plans to see Erica.”
“I bet that made Erica mad,” Clary commented thoughtfully. She bent down to inspect the lowest shelf at the back of the salon when something caught her eye. There weren’t any beauty products down there, it seemed like Erica used the space for storage.
“You have no idea,” Karen scoffed. “Every time he canceled, she went ballistic. I swear, she said she didn’t care, but I have a few broken coffee cups that say different.”
“You don’t say,” Clary murmured as she moved the bottle of drain cleaner to reveal a box of rat poison.
Chapter 4
“There she is,” Marie called out gleefully when Clary finally walked in.
Her head was spinning as she contemplated the coincidence of what she had just found out. Was it really that easy to find murder suspects? Erica had a strong case against her, and it was only an hour after Clary decided to do anything about Eddie’s death. She also wondered how one man could make so many women angry at him.
“My little boss,” Marie continued blissfully. She was busy baking something on the counter, and for the first time since Clary knew her, the entire place was a mess. “Teeny-weeny little person. Petite femme! How are you so small?”
“Have you been drinking?” Clary asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Non,” Marie hiccupped. “I’ve been baking?”
“Baking with?”
“Brandy! For fruitcake!”
“Aren’t you supposed to add that gradually?”
“I did!”
“To your mouth?” Clary guessed. She chuckled when Marie cheered and then promptly sat on the floor. Unfortunately, she chose to sit on the massive bag of flour. Marie giggled as the flour particles flew into the air around her. “Come on, let’s get you a cup of coffee. Maybe that will help with it all.”
She helped her friend get to her feet and guided her toward the couch. Sober Marie was going to throw a fit when she saw the flour marks on the plush sofa. Tipsy Marie thought it was funny. As she was helping Marie calm down, the bell rang.
“I’ll be right with you,” she called.
“Is this a bad time?”
She spun around to see Chief Sanchez looking around skeptically. Ben was standing next to him with a mortified expression. Marie was still giggling and playing with strands of her own hair, and suddenly Clary felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
“No,” she said brightly, quickly putting on the coffee machine. “Can I make you guys a cup of coffee? I’m making one for Marie.”
“No, thank you,” Chief Sanchez said at the same time that Ben nodded vigorously. She nodded at them and went back to her task.
; “What happened here?” Chief Sanchez asked inquisitively.
“Well, we had a mishap while trying to make fruitcake,” Clary explained, keeping her hands busy to hide her nerves. Chief Sanchez nodded reasonably, and Ben shook his head in despair. She shot him a stern look and he blushed. “How can I help you, Chief?”
“I was hoping that we could look around?” he asked. “We’re just hoping to find some things. Don’t worry, I don’t think we’ll find anything around here.”
“Look around?” Clary asked hesitantly. “Where do you need to look?”
“Just in the shop and maybe your apartment upstairs.”
Clary’s hands stilled as she thought about what he was asking. She was sure that he didn’t have a warrant, and it was her right to refuse access to the shop, but that would look suspicious. Marie cooed at Loki as he tried to grab the feather she was waving above his head. Marie didn’t deserve all the suspicion that was being heaped on her. Clary was absolutely confident about her friend’s innocence, and so the decision was a fairly easy one, although she did wish that she had a chance to clean up a little more.
“Yes,” Clary said assuredly, surprising the chief. “Feel free to look around. Please don’t judge how everything looks, I haven’t had much time to clean up today.”
“Thank you,” Chief Sanchez said, still looking vaguely surprised. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”
She nodded at him and went over to Marie with a cup of coffee. When she sat down next to her friend, who was starting to sober up, she took the chance to look around her store with a critical eye.
When she opened Story Tree, she wanted to create a home away from home. The store was supposed to be a safe place where bibliophiles could retreat to and find a warm, quiet place to curl up with a good book. The idea was for readers to come in, browse for as long as they like, then buy one of the enticing treats, sit down with their newly purchased book and read for as long as they liked.
With this vision in mind, Clary had carefully picked every item in the store. Her book collection was more extensive than the town library, and the entire shop always smelled like warm, fresh coffee mingled with the intoxicating aroma of various baked goods as well as the time-tested perfume of ink on paper.
The carpets were thick and tastefully subdued, while the couches varied from leather to plush comfortable material. Fleece blankets were available as well as various throw pillows. The entire store was a bookworm’s dream, and for the most part, she did very well. Valley Springs was a small town that wasn’t far away from a prestigious university. Her clientele consisted of retired professors and academics who came to her store to get a taste of the literary haven they had left behind. Every now and then a curious student would wander into her store, looking for some obscure literary legend.
Story Tree was a special place, and the sight of policemen pushing aside books and pillows as they searched for clues to a murder tainted the atmosphere she had worked so hard to create. When she looked at her friend, it didn’t matter. Marie was as much a part of Story Tree as the books, the pillows and Loki himself. Clary would do whatever it took to prove her friend’s innocence.
“How are you feeling?” Clary asked. Marie groaned but nodded.
“Better, but why are they here?”
“They asked to have a look around. I thought it would be suspicious if I asked them to come back with a warrant.”
“I suppose that’s smart,” Marie agreed begrudgingly. “I would’ve asked for a warrant, though.”
“You’re not guilty,” Clary pointed out. “You have nothing to hide.”
“I’m not,” Marie agreed, “but everyone has something to hide, and they won’t be looking through my things. This is your store, and your apartment. Are you ready for stranger one and two to dig through all your stuff?”
“It’s fine,” Clary said slowly, but she didn’t believe it anymore. She wondered vaguely if she remembered to put away the laundry she had finished yesterday. To be fair, she hardly ever had guests in her apartment. People preferred to stay down below in the store.
“If you say so,” Marie shrugged.
“You’ll never guess what I found,” Clary told her softly, keeping an eye out for the chief and Ben.
“Did Erica give you that list of enemies?”
“No,” Clary shook her head. “I got something else. It turns out that Erica might be on that list of enemies.”
“I thought she only gossiped about Eddie? Did he get annoyed and tell her to shut up?”
“No, it sounds like he liked her prattling. They were seeing each other in secret.”
“You’re joking,” Marie gasped.
“I wish,” Clary shook her head in distaste. She quickly recounted the events that took place in Erica’s salon, and Marie was mostly quiet through it all. When Clary was finished, Marie shook her head in disapproval.
“Wow,” Marie commented, her eyes wide. “Why are you letting them in your apartment? Tell them what you found!”
“No,” Clary hissed. “Look, I don’t think that’s enough evidence. It’s suspicious, but we can’t turn the police on an innocent person. It’s not worth the trouble. Besides, if she’s guilty then we’ll find more evidence. She’s not exactly a criminal mastermind, we’ll find something. Or someone else.”
“What a mess,” Marie muttered. “That man was a piece of work.”
“He still didn’t deserve what he got,” Clary pointed out. “I’ll never understand how someone could do something like that. What’s wrong with them?”
“I don’t know,” Marie sighed.
“What do you mean?” Clary asked, feeling a little shocked when Marie disagreed with her statement. In her mind, no one deserved to die. It was a horrible thing, and murder was especially heinous. Natural death was bad enough, but when someone chose to break the rules and take another’s life, she found it unforgivable.
“He treated women badly,” Marie explained. “In my mind, that’s horrible. He used them and threw them away. How many hearts did he break, just because he felt like it? I don’t think it’s right, all I’m saying is that I understand.”
“There’s never a reason to do that to someone,” Clary stated stubbornly.
“You’ve never had your heart broken, have you?” Marie asked, giving Clary a knowing look.
“I have,” Clary protested, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as Marie gave her an amused smile. She hated that Marie sometimes treated her like a child. It made her feel small and naïve.
“No,” Marie disagreed. “You’ve been through break-ups, but you’ve never known heartbreak. When your heart is broken, you’ll finally understand how someone can do something like murder.”
“Are you saying that a broken heart is a good excuse?”
“I’m saying that love, or love scorned, is a powerful motive. If you’re looking for a murderer, look where there’s love or where love used to be. At the end of the trail, you’ll find the person with the poison.”
“How do you know so much?”
“I’ve had my heart broken,” Marie shrugged nonchalantly.
“Eddie?” Clary asked in disbelief.
“Don’t be stupid,” Marie snorted. “How many times must I remind you that he didn’t matter to me? He was a flirt, I knew what I was getting into.”
“Oh,” Clary said, feeling a little stupid.
“Pierre,” Marie supplied, when she saw how uncomfortable Clary looked. “We were engaged. I was studying to become a chef, and he pushed me toward my dreams. I thought he was everything. He was a good man. Well, I thought so. I came home one day to find him with one of my professors.”
“Oh,” Clary said again. She knew that Marie was trying to make up for her brusque manner. It was hard for her friend to trust people, and now she understood why. She wished that she could say something more than “oh” but in her defense, she was caught off guard.
“Yes,” Marie said uncomfortably.
The
two of them sat in silence while Chief Sanchez and Ben made their way up to Clary’s apartment. When they disappeared, Marie started cleaning up the fruitcake mess. Clary was happy that she had the presence of mind to throw away the brandy before giving Marie her coffee. She didn’t know if she could deal with more episodes.
“Well,” Chief Sanchez said when he came down the stairs, “thank you for letting us look around.”
“It’s not a problem,” Clary said generously. A part of her hoped that the investigation would take another turn now. “Is that all you need?”
“Actually,” Chief Sanchez said slowly, “we need to ask you a few questions.”
“Me?” Clary squeaked in surprise.
“Yes,” Chief Sanchez sat down. “What was your relationship with Eddie like?”
“We didn’t know each other that well,” Clary admitted.
“So, you two never had a romantic history?” Chief Sanchez pressed.
“No,” Clary said slowly, “he wasn’t my type.”
“Okay,” Chief Sanchez said wonderingly. “Do you get any rats in this store?”
“Rats?” Clary echoed. “No, I think Loki gets rid of them all.”
Her statement drew their attention to where Loki was lying on a blanket, curled up in a ball as he slept soundly. Chief Sanchez lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“So, you don’t use any rat poison?”
“No, there’s no need to.”
“Then can you explain this?” he motioned to Ben who came forward with a box of rat poison.
“That’s weird,” she frowned.
“Is it?” Chief Sanchez commented. “We found it in your kitchen.”
“That’s impossible,” Clary said confidently. “No one goes up there except me and…” she trailed off as a thought hit her.
“You and?” Chief Sanchez prompted.
Clary’s gaze traveled to her friend who was standing frozen behind the counter.
Chapter 5
“This is ridiculous,” Marie snapped, flipping angrily through yet another cookbook.
