by Sonia Parin
Jack put his hand over his glass. “None for me thanks.”
“That’s very conscientious, Jack. Do you think Josh could give Jordan and me a lift home?” Mira asked.
“Of course.”
“Then that’s settled. I’ll have another glass, Eve.”
The meal proceeded in silence until Eve asked, “How is everyone doing?”
Mira smiled. “Food is a great pacifier, Eve. As is wine.”
Another hard thump, this time followed by quick footsteps, had them all looking around again.
Jack sighed. “I suppose I should go see what that’s about.”
“Didn’t you say Josh is with them?” Eve asked. “If something’s happened, then surely he’d either call for help or... Yes, I suppose it’d be better if you went to see. For all we know, William’s guests have turned on Josh and are going to use him as leverage for their immediate release.”
Jack was already out the kitchen door as he said, “No one is being held against their will.”
When he returned, he shook his head. “Marcus Leeds had one too many glasses of whiskey. His wife made an attempt to put the bottle out of his reach, but that only made him get up and stumble his way to it.”
“Are you sure he’s drunk?” Eve asked. “He might be faking it. You know, filling his glass and, when no one is looking, tipping the contents into one of my pot plants.”
“Why do you think he’d fake getting drunk?” Jill asked.
Eve shrugged. “To avoid detection. If a killer is hiding in that group, I’m thinking he wants to keep a clear head, and listen to everything everyone says to make sure no one is onto him. I’d hate to see one of my plants suffer because someone is trying to get away with murder.”
Jack smiled. “Marcus Leeds is actually sitting by the window, Eve. I didn’t see any plants near him. And, for the record, I’d agree with your theory about the killer trying to fly under the radar by appearing to be drunk.”
“Jack. This must be the first time you’ve agreed with me.” Eve raised her glass in a toast. She also noticed he hadn’t discouraged her from stoking that particular fire of suspicion.
One of the guests... a killer.
Lowering his voice, Jack said, “Let’s try to contain the situation, Eve. Keep everyone here and avoid the guests.” Jack focused on finishing his meal. When he did, he excused himself. “Excellent meal, as always, Eve. I promised Josh I’d relieve him of his duties so he can sit down to dinner.”
Jill rubbed her hands. “Great. We can get a fresh perspective.”
Everyone gave Josh enough time to at least get halfway through his meal before asking him for updates.
“Jack thought we’d have trouble keeping the guests here, but none of them are fit to drive,” he said, “J.M. Kernel is entertaining them with stories. He appears to be slurring his speech, but I swear I haven’t seen him refill his glass.”
Eve and Jill exchanged a knowing look. They both turned to Mira. “Do you know of any connection between the author and Stew Peters?”
Mira nodded. “All the people in there belong to William Hunter’s social set. They spend weekends together. They even travel together. William Hunter has a yacht. When he vacations in the Caribbean, he takes them along.”
Eve took a sip of wine. “That would have been a perfect place to kill Stew Peters. Why choose my inn, especially on a stormy night like this?” She waited for someone to suggest her reputation would make the inn a convenient setting. Surprisingly, no one did. “Josh, do you know what William and Elizabeth were talking about? Jill said she saw them in the library.”
“Funeral arrangements,” Josh offered, “Stew Peters didn’t have any close family so William is organizing it all.”
“He’s not such a bad sort,” Helena remarked.
William Hunter the Third. Generous host. Generous husband, when he wanted to be. Generous friend. Give the man a halo, Eve thought.
Jill grinned. “I wonder what William is hiding? Maybe he wants to bury the evidence as soon as possible.”
Eve hid her smile and wondered if William would have reason to want Stew Peters dead.
The cruise trip she’d recently gone on with her aunt had been reported on the Bugle. It had caught William’s interest and had compelled him to buy the small town newspaper. Why? Had he seen an opportunity he could take advantage of? Eve shook her head. Being suspicious of someone didn’t always pave the way to discovering a motive for murder. Looking up, she noticed Jill studying her.
“What?” Eve mouthed.
“Nothing,” Jill mouthed back and then turned to everyone at the table. “Does anyone know anything about poisons?”
Abby cleared her throat. “Why do we think he was poisoned?”
They all looked at each other.
Eve poured some more wine. “It’s nothing but an assumption, Abby. One we’re happy to play around with.”
Josh said, “J.M. Kernel must know a lot about poisons. He’s used them in several of his books. They’re his weapon of choice.”
“Since Jack made a point of asking about the box of cigars,” Jill said, “We have to assume he suspects they were used to deliver the poison. Perhaps they were laced with arsenic.”
Shock registered in everyone’s faces as they all looked at Jill. Anyone would think Jill had just announced the identity of the killer.
“Jill, we’re not even sure it was poison. I won’t be convinced this is the work of a killer until I see someone being hauled away in handcuffs.” A small part of her wished, with all her heart, this had all been a silly mistake. A bigger part of her hoped Stew Peters had died of natural causes. Eve nudged Josh. “Can you back me up, please?”
Josh cleared his throat. “Well, as a matter of fact—”
Grinning, Jill said, “See, I told you.”
“Let the man finish. Josh, you were going to say something. Why did Jack suggest Stew Peters had died of poisoning?”
“Actually,” Jill said, “I think you’re the one who mentioned poison, Eve.”
Yes, she had. Mouthing an apology, she resumed eating.
“The test results haven’t all come in yet,” Josh said, “However, I noticed the bluish discoloration around the lips. That could be a sign of poisoning.”
Jill clapped her hands. “Now we have to figure out which poison the killer used.”
“Assuming the killer used a cigar as a weapon,” Eve said, “It would have to be something that wouldn’t be easily detected.”
Abby Larkin drained her glass. “Is this what normally goes on between you two?”
Jill nodded. “We always try to stay out of police business, but then we can’t help ourselves. Two heads are better than an entire police force and Eve and I have always managed to offer a fresh spin on theories.” Jill grinned. “So far, we have a one hundred percent success rate.”
Eve sighed. “I’m only going with the flow and making conversation. The police have this under control. This time, I am determined to stay right out of the investigation.”
Mira chortled. “You always say that, Eve. And then you end up right in the thick of it.”
Eve rose to her feet. “This time it’s different. I really can’t afford to meddle. With the inn opening so soon, I just don’t have the time.” She collected some plates and strode over to the kitchen.
Jill followed her and helped Eve stack the dishes in the dishwasher. “Getting back to what I was saying before. I’ve had second thoughts. Poisoning the cigars wouldn’t make sense. William and J.M Kernel smoked cigars too, but only Stew died.” Jill gaped. “Hang on. I’ve changed my mind again. What if only one of the cigars had poison in it?”
“You think someone played Russian roulette?” Eve asked.
Jill gave a vigorous nod. “Yes. The killer laced one cigar with poison. Then he gave William the box thinking they could watch him enjoy his way toward the poisoned one.”
“That means the killer wanted to bide his time.” Eve brought out the c
offee cups and set them on the counter. “I think we can safely assume it’s someone close to him. Someone he sees regularly. The killer would watch him lighting up and wonder if today would be his lucky day. The killer’s lucky day, not William’s.”
“But that means the killer didn’t expect William to share the cigars,” Jill offered.
“We need to find out if William is a regular cigar smoker and how he feels about this particular brand. Maybe he has different types of cigars. Those only he smokes and the ones he shares with friends.” Eve looked up and smiled. “Cake and ice-cream anyone?”
Everyone stared at both Eve and Jill, mouths gaping open. Finally, they all nodded.
Eve held up a hand. “Yes, yes. I know. I can imagine what you’re all thinking. I said I wanted nothing to do with any of this and I promise I will stay out of this investigation. Jill and I are only tossing around ideas.”
Jill nodded. “We’re just making conversation. While we should wait for Jack to reveal more information about the cigars, there’s nothing wrong with prodding around. For instance, we can’t really assume only one cigar has been poisoned.”
Eve frowned. “That would be too macabre. But if we’re right, it does tell us something about the killer. He... or she is patient and likes to play games.”
“I’ve heard say poison is a woman’s preferred weapon.” Jill took the laptop and settled down at the table. “I’m going to research poisons. One way or another, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Unless, of course, someone wants to talk about something else.” She looked around the table.
Everyone shrugged.
Josh cleared his throat. “Actually, guns remain everyone’s weapon of choice. Followed by knives.”
“Really? Let me see.” Jill did another search. “Oh, yes. You’re right, Josh. However, poison remains more popular among women killers than among men.”
“There you go,” Mira piped in, “You learn something new every day.”
By the time they’d had their coffee and dessert, everyone had agreed arsenic seemed to be the most likely poison used.
“Just think about it,” Helena said, “you’d only need to dab the tip of the cigar with poison.”
“It sounds feasible,” Abby agreed, “But where does one get arsenic from?”
Eve smiled. “As no one seems to know, I believe the immediate population can feel safe in their homes. Clearly, it’s not something one can easily get their hands on.” Eve finished her coffee and set her cup down. She tried remaining silent, but the words pushed their way out, “How long were the men out on the veranda smoking?”
“I’d say about an hour,” Jill offered.
“So we’re looking for a fast acting poison.”
Jill tapped away on the keyboard. “That could be anything, but the dosage would have to have been strong. If Stew Peters had a heart condition, the poison might have come from the foxglove plant.”
“How would you extract the poison and how would you put it in a cigar?” Eve wondered.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Mira offered.
Jill hummed. “I’m keen to find out more about J.M. Kernel’s knowledge of poisons. Josh, can you think of any specific examples from his books?”
Mira shook her head. “It can’t be him. He had a cigar too.”
“But if he’s the killer,” Jill reasoned, “He would have known which cigar to take and which one to avoid. Let’s assume, for the sake of brainstorming, he wanted to kill Stew Peters. We should find out how the cigars were offered around. Maybe J.M. Kernel simply picked one up and gave it to Stew. Confident he’d delivered the fatal cigar, he would then have passed the box around.”
Thinking she’d already said enough, Eve pressed a glass of water to her lips. She desperately wanted to avoid being drawn into the conversation but, in her effort, she nearly choked on the water she drank. “If the cigars were given to William, why would J.M. Kernel offer them around?”
“Because they’re a big happy family without boundaries,” Jill chirped. “Oh, and that opens a can of wiggly worms. What if that’s not all they shared?”
“Where is your mind going now?” Eve asked.
“I’m thinking about crimes of passion and revenge.”
Eve smiled. “And I think you’re being fanciful.”
“Hey, it’s a stormy night and I’m trying to liven the conversation.”
Helena raised her glass in a salute. “And you’re doing a splendid job of it, Jill. I doubt I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight. My mind is buzzing with ideas.”
Jill straightened and looked at Eve. “See, they’re interested in my theories.”
“Can I interest anyone in more coffee and perhaps some cognac?” Eve set a dish of chocolate truffles on the table. “These are brandy truffles.”
Helena helped herself to a chocolate. “Abby’s driving so I’ll say yes to everything.”
Eve looked toward the dining room. “I suppose I should offer the other guests some coffee.”
Jill joined Eve in the kitchen. “I’ll help with the coffee.”
“You mean, you’ll supervise and make sure I don’t slip something in the drinks.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone pointing the finger of suspicion at you. The night is still young, leaving plenty of time for someone else to be murdered.”
A clap of thunder had them all tensing.
“I’ll go relieve Jack. Thanks for dinner, Eve.” Josh grabbed a couple of chocolates and left.
Moments later, Jack appeared. “Josh tells me you’ve come up with some interesting ideas.”
“It’s nothing more than lively dinner conversation,” Eve said.
“Eve is being modest,” Jill laughed. “I think we’ll have the case solved before the end of the night. Abby made an interesting point earlier.” Jill gave a small nod. “If I had to buy arsenic, I wouldn’t know where to start looking. That’s why I’m in favor of some sort of plant. Even tomato plants are poisonous.”
Mira’s editor cleared his throat. “Ricin is a possibility. With adequate instructions and some knowhow, it could be produced.”
Eve looked at Jordan Monroe. He’d been joining in the conversation but he’d mostly been listening. While she wouldn’t readily voice her opinion, a part of her couldn’t help thinking he would be the perfect killer. No one suspected him. On the surface, he didn’t have any connection to the victim or any reason to kill him. That, however, didn’t exclude him from committing a random murder.
Jill stilled. “Ricin. I’ve never heard of that one.”
“It’s highly toxic,” Jordan offered.
“Great.” Jill rubbed her hands. “How do I get some?”
Jordan smiled. “It’s produced from castor oil seeds. A dose of purified ricin powder, the size of a few grains of table salt can kill an adult.”
Jill’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And what’s the most effective way of using it?”
Jordan exchanged a look with Mira. “Inhalation.”
Jill jumped on the spot. “Aha! If I wanted to kill someone using a cigar, I could...” She tapped her finger on her chin. “I could make a tiny incision in the cigar and insert the ricin.”
Eve shook her head. “The first puff would be enough for smoke to come out of the hole. A smoker would be instantly on the alert.”
Everyone turned to Jordan. He shrugged. “If we’re talking about a small hole, you could cover it with some superglue.”
Jill smiled at Mira. “I can see why you’re so protective of your editor. He is a fount of knowledge.”
Nibbling on a chocolate, Eve said, “So back to motive. Why would someone want to kill Stew Peters?”
“What if he wasn’t really the target?” Jordan asked.
Mira gave him a pat on the back. “Now you’re just winding them up. They’ll be at it all night.”
Eve growled softly under her breath. “I really don’t like the sound of that because it means someone wanted to commit murder i
n my inn and didn’t particularly care who got killed. In a roundabout way, that would make me a target too, but since I’ve never met William’s friends, I haven’t given them a reason to involve me in a crime.” Eve jumped to her feet. “I’d like to know how those cigars got here.”
“Either one of the guests brought the box of cigars or someone delivered it to the inn.” Jill threw her hands in the air. “That’s it. The water was delivered this morning. The police need to question the delivery person. Maybe they’re responsible for also delivering the deadly weapon.”
Both Jill and Eve turned to Jack.
Jack gave a slow shake of his head. “I wish someone had mentioned this earlier.”
Eve lifted her chin slightly. “I think I might have, but you seem determined to do everything you can to keep me out of the loop, and that includes not listening to me.”
Jack appeared to be calling for calm. “Do you remember the name of the delivery company, Eve?”
“No. I didn’t have to pay for the water. It came with a note explaining William only drank that particular brand of water. I assumed Elizabeth Rogue had organized it all and gave instructions to include the note. I’m not even sure if I kept it. I’ll have a look through the trash here. You can search the trash outside.” She looked out the window. “Although, with this weather you might have to wait until morning.”
Jack was already on his feet. “Any leads will help. Perhaps the note was written on company paper.”
He could also ask Elizabeth Rogue. The fact he didn’t mention it made Eve wonder if perhaps he wanted to keep a close eye on the guests without giving anything away, at least while they were all sequestered at the inn.
“What about the whiskey?” Jordan asked. “It would be easier to lace a glass with poison.”
Mira nudged Jordan. “You’re getting into the spirit of it, but we should get going now. Otherwise I might have to drag you away. Besides, I can see another thunderstorm heading our way and I’d rather not get caught in the middle of it, or worse, be stuck here for the night. There’s only so much excitement I can take.”
