Poison and Party Hats, page 4
“Where do you think?” she asked, flashing a big smile at me before pulling out of the Dip & Clip parking lot.
I should’ve known it would be Speedy’s Diner. There wasn’t anywhere else in this town to grab a hot meal. And, of course, the place hadn’t changed at all. The booths were the same cracked, olive-green vinyl, and the menus were still too big to fit on the table, though the prices had definitely changed. Not even this secluded corner of Louisiana could escape inflation, it seemed.
“I have so many questions about New York,” Chelle said as we took a booth by the windows. “What’s it like? Is it everything you hoped it’d be? Do you ever see any famous people around town? It must be so glamorous,” she said wistfully. “Nothing glamorous ever happens around here. Well, not unless you count the time Amy Mulberry got one of those reality TV makeovers. Did you know she married Nick Rodgers? Never would have put those two together. Their poor baby has a forehead big enough to rent out ad space on. Cute little bugger, but bangs are gonna be her friend.”
There was no use in me trying to get a word in. Despite her litany of questions, Chelle was too excited to stop long enough for me to answer any of them. She had a seemingly endless supply of inane anecdotes about our classmates and the ups and downs of their lives. By the time we ordered and got our food, I knew more than I’d ever wanted about who’d married, who’d divorced, who’d come out of the closet, and who still hadn’t.
I did my best to let it go in one ear and out the other. In a couple of weeks, I’d be back in New York, forgetting any of those people existed. I didn’t need the local gossip clogging up valuable space in my brain with everything else going on.
We were finished with our food, enjoying some chicory coffee, when an older man approached our table, his face screwed into a permanent-looking scowl. He looked familiar, but it had been so long since I’d seen most people in Shongoloo that I couldn’t put my finger on who he was. When he saw me, his expression softened a fraction.
“My condolences on your loss,” he said, tsking and shaking his head. “I always knew all that carrying on and drinking late into the night couldn’t be good for folks our age, but no one could ever get Eliza to act her age if she didn’t want to.”
Chelle and I exchanged a look. The man sounded bitter, maybe angry about it? Was this maybe one of Aunt Eliza’s suitors? And if so, was he the one jealous enough to kill her?
Damn it, Lucy, I scolded myself. There’s no story here. Stop trying to make one.
Like Julian said, my brain couldn’t help itself. That didn’t mean I had to listen to it.
The man left as abruptly as he’d arrived, and Chelle scoffed once he was out of earshot.
“Can you believe him? Eliza was the healthiest woman I’d ever known her age. She was fit as a fiddle.”
“You mean besides the diabetes?”
She blew that off. “She always had that under control. And lately she’d been working out so much she put women half her age to shame—me included!”
Before I could consider that, a car horn blared out in the street. Brakes screeched. People shouted curses. Chelle looked out the window, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, no...”
My stomach sank, a hard knot of dread balling up in its place. I followed her gaze out the window and couldn’t believe it. “Is that...? Ollie!” I groaned, jumping up.
I didn’t know how he’d gotten out, or how he’d made his way into town, but he was in the middle of the road, blocking traffic. The car that stopped for him started to drive around, but that only left him exposed to whoever came down the street next.
Heart in my throat, I raced out of the diner to save the little idiot from himself.
Chapter 5
“Damn it, Ollie,” I grumbled, stomping across the sidewalk. I didn’t have time to debate anything. Like it or not, this dog was my responsibility for the time being, and I couldn’t let him become roadkill.
“Ollie!” I called from the curb. “Come here!”
He barked back, not moving. A couple of people on the other side of the street tried calling him too. One person got close enough for Ollie to snap at him, which was the final straw for me. If he hurt someone, we’d all be in trouble.
“Ollie, that’s enough,” I said, looking both ways before stepping out into the street. The drivers of the cars waiting for him to move appeared eager for me to remove the four-legged roadblock.
“This is not the time for a temper tantrum.” I got close enough to grab him, but at the last second, he lunged at me. I staggered back, wobbling, and—snap—one of my heels broke, my foot turning sideways painfully. I hissed, balancing on my one good shoe while my ankle throbbed, and more car horns joined the chorus.
“Just great.” Another pair of heels ruined by this beast—Manolos this time. No dog was worth this trouble.
But Aunt Eliza was.
“I’m not playing with you. It’s time to go,” I said in my most commanding tone. Ollie let me get close enough to grab his collar, and Chelle met us at the curb with a leash from the Jeep.
“Are you okay?” Chelle asked.
“I think so, but my shoes aren’t.”
“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked, lifting Ollie up to look him over.
If I was a Looney Tune, there’d be steam shooting out of my ears. She was worried about the dog? From Darla, I expected it, but Chelle was supposed to be on my side. I needed to take my anger out on someone, and I already knew who.
I picked up the phone to call Darla. She didn’t answer, which meant I got to say my piece without interruption. “In case you’re wondering, I have Ollie. Great job keeping an eye on him. He nearly got hit by a car. You were supposed to be watching him.” I stopped myself short of suggesting this kind of thing might be why my aunt got sued by an angry customer. Even in the heat of rage, I knew there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
After hanging up the phone, I found Chelle and Ollie in the Jeep. He was in her lap, getting all kinds of TLC that he didn’t deserve.
“What is wrong with you?” I huffed, glaring at him. How could such a small creature cause such humongous problems?
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Chelle said, quick to jump to his defense. “He’s always been a bit of an escape artist. Without Eliza around, I think he’s just feeling a bit lost and restless.”
I gritted my teeth. I’d been in town for two days, and I was already sick of people telling me about this dog’s feelings. From Chelle, it felt like a betrayal more than anything.
“How about I take you back home, and I’ll keep Ollie for the day?” Chelle offered, suddenly finding her way into my good graces again. Maybe she could be on both of our sides.
“You’d do that?” I asked, incredulous. Why would anyone volunteer to spend more time with Ollie?
Chelle shrugged. “Darla has her hands full, and I’m always looking for friends for Pepper.”
“Pepper?”
“That’s our dog. You’ll love her,” she said, petting Ollie one last time before putting him in the back seat.
I didn’t say anything on the ride back to the Dip & Clip. I was still too mad about my shoe to even look at Ollie, and despite how it felt at first, hanging out with Chelle wasn’t quite the same as it used to be. Maybe we’d grown apart too much to rekindle that old friendship.
After she dropped me off, I bypassed the shop and went back to Aunt Eliza’s house for a new pair of shoes. Originally, I thought I’d overpacked for the trip, but at this rate I’d be barefoot in a week.
There were still a few hours before my appointment with the realtor, and I already knew what I was going to do with them. Despite Julian’s warnings and everything I’d said, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing the whole picture with Aunt Eliza’s death. There were too many things not adding up, too many questions still hanging in the air.
There was one surefire way to quiet the nagging curiosities that wouldn’t go away. I needed to obtain a copy of the coroner’s report. Everything I wanted to know about Eliza’s death would be in that report, and when it plainly spelled out it was nothing more than a simple heart attack that killed her, I’d be able to go about my life as normal and leave Shongoloo behind like I’d planned.
The county coroner was a regal-looking woman named Serena Barton. She met me in the lobby of the morgue wearing a pencil dress that would’ve been right at home in Manhattan. Finally, someone with some taste. “How can I help you today, Miss Layton?” she asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about my aunt, Eliza Dumond,” I said, cutting right to the chase. Serena looked to be a busy woman, and I didn’t want to take up more of her time than I needed to. Call it professional courtesy.
“Of course. What questions can I answer for you?” she asked with a quick glance at her smartwatch.
“Were you the one who performed the autopsy?” I began, itching to pull out my notepad. I wasn’t quite ready to commit to that yet, though. Once I started taking notes, it wouldn’t be long before the whole town knew I was poking around. If there was someone responsible for Eliza’s death, I didn’t want them to have time to cover their tracks. I needed to keep my snooping as quiet as possible and pray the small-town rumor mill passed me up just this once.
“I was,” she said. “There was nothing to suggest that the initial cause of death given by the hospital was incorrect. No signs of injury or trauma.”
It seemed that Serena was already onto me. Or maybe she was just trying to get ahead of my questions so she could get back to work. “I’d like a copy of the report, if that’s possible. I might have questions once I look at it.”
“Sure,” she said, moving to the ancient computer, giving no indication how she felt about my request. “But it’s all fairly straightforward. Natural causes. Nothing suspicious. I know a lot of people have been struggling to come to terms with it since she was so well-liked around here. But we’re used to this kind of thing in our field. Everyone’s time comes eventually, as tough as that is to swallow.” By the time she finished, the printer behind the front desk had spit out a few sheets of paper. Serena stapled them together for me, and passed the report over, still warm.
She certainly seemed like a woman who took her work seriously. I respected that. But another set of eyes couldn’t hurt, and I was still hoping it would give me some peace of mind so I could stop this wild goose chase before it started.
“Thank you. I appreciate your help,” I said, but Serena had already turned away from the front desk, retreating into the back of the morgue.
It was getting late enough that I needed to be back at Eliza’s to meet with the realtor soon. I tucked the coroner’s report away to look at later and made the winding, bumpy drive back. The back roads around Shongoloo weren’t well-maintained, full of dips where the soft ground below had settled or cracks from the harsh Southern sun. I’d hardly driven since moving to New York, and I couldn’t say I’d missed it at all. The subway was much more convenient.
As soon as I stepped through the front door, Ollie’s yapping barks rang in my ears. He’d found his way home again. I winced, shushing him, but he didn’t listen. He never listened. At this point, I wasn’t even convinced he could listen. Instead, he kept barking and barking, each one deepening that well of disappointment that had opened up as soon as I realized he was here.
“I hear you, okay? I get it. You’re here. What do you want?”
He yapped again, then jumped back a couple of times before running around me in a circle, yipping at my ankles.
“I swear, if you try to eat my shoes while I’m wearing them...” I grumbled. Ollie dropped down to his belly, looking up at me with his chin on the floor.
“I don’t know what you want, okay?” I sighed. “I don’t ... get dogs. I don’t know how I’m expected to read your mind. How much is even going on up there?”
For once, Ollie didn’t respond. Somehow, that made me feel worse. It wasn’t his fault that we were stuck together any more than it was mine.
“Look, I know I’m no good at this, and I’m not going to pretend that that’s going to change, but I am going to find a good home for you. I’ll find someone who actually wants you and can take care of you properly; I promise. We don’t have to like each other, but I’d appreciate if we could just peacefully coexist until I go back to New York. Do you think you could do that for me?”
I met his gaze, and there was nothing there. I might as well have been talking to a brick. He sensed that I was finished, though, and jumped up to his feet, spinning in place before dashing off toward the kitchen. He barked once, then sat down next to his empty food bowl.
Huh... Maybe there was something going on upstairs after all. I measured out a scoop of his kibble, mildly impressed that he could actually tell me what he wanted in his own way.
As soon as I put the food in his bowl, Ollie attacked it, slobbering and pushing food out onto the floor, trying to inhale as much as possible as quickly as possible.
“Okay, not a lot going on up there,” I muttered, shaking my head. All he ever seemed to do was make noise, make messes, and make trouble.
The doorbell’s chime set him off barking again, his food completely forgotten in his mad dash to the door.
“Ollie, get back,” I said, shoving past him.
Alicia Elliot was right on time for our meeting, flashing a big, too-white smile, sporting a matching skirt suit that wasn’t quite in style, but was at least from this century. Ollie jumped up to greet her, sniffing at her handbag.
“Careful with him,” I warned. “He can’t be trusted.”
“Oh, he’s all right.” Alicia laughed. “He just wants to say hello to Jeanette.”
“Jeanette?” I asked, but Alicia wasn’t the one who answered. A tiny squeak of a bark came from inside her purse, and then a small, cinnamon-colored head popped out from between the purse straps.
“They’ll keep each other entertained while we get down to business,” Alicia said, fishing her miniature dog out of her purse. I did my best to keep my opinions to myself, but I couldn’t be sure that my face cooperated. Luckily, Alicia was too preoccupied with setting Jeanette on the shaggy pink carpet to see any kind of horrified reaction that might’ve slipped through.
“I’m soooo glad you reached out to me,” she said once she straightened back up. “This place is a gem, and I’m so grateful I get to be the one to sell it.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said, keeping one eye on the dogs as they yapped and wrestled with each other. It looked violent to me, but Alicia wasn’t at all concerned.
“I’d already talked to your aunt about some of this, but I think to maximize our chances of selling for top dollar, there are a few minor changes you could do. Just some updating to make things more palatable to a modern buyer. New appliances, rip out the carpet, tear down that wallpaper... You want to create a space that buyers can picture themselves in, and Eliza had some real specific tastes,” she said with a chuckle.
It was nothing I hadn’t thought myself, and I knew Alicia was just doing her job, but hearing her trash Eliza’s style made me oddly defensive. And those changes didn’t exactly sound minor.
“I’m not sure how much renovating I’ll really do,” I told her. “I’d like to get this done as quickly as possible so I can get back to my life in New York. Would you be able to help me sell the shop as well?”
Alicia’s eyebrows shot up, eyes sharp like a robin spotting a big, fat, juicy worm. “Of course! I do commercial stuff all the time. I have the paperwork here for the house, but I can get started on the shop too. That business has always done well, so I’m sure we won’t have any problems selling it fast.”
“Really? I didn’t think there’d be many buyers out here.”
She gave me a knowing smile and flipped her hair off her shoulder. “It’s all about having the right contacts. And lucky for you, I do.” She chuckled, all too impressed with herself.
I hadn’t seen enough to be impressed yet, but if she could sell these places like she said, she’d be worth every bit of her commission. “I’m glad to have you on the job,” I said, signing and handing the papers back. She left me hanging while she tried to convince her little purse dog to hop back in. I didn’t even want to think about the dirt and fur that must have collected in the bottom of Alicia’s bag. “Did Eliza ever say why she was planning to sell?”
Alicia finally stuffed Jeanette back in her two-tone purse, shrugging as she pushed the handles up her shoulder. “She never said exactly. Most of my clients Eliza’s age are looking to downgrade so they have a little less house to take care of.”
“Makes sense,” I said, following her to the door. I didn’t buy it, though. Aunt Eliza had always lived in this house alone—she wasn’t an empty nester or a widow. The house hadn’t outgrown her, and from what everyone else had told me about her energy levels, it sure didn’t seem like she’d run out of steam with the maintenance side of things.
So why did she want to sell?
That was something I’d have to figure out another time, if I ever did.
At least Ollie had been more or less well-behaved while Alicia was visiting. Maybe our little heart-to-heart talk had gotten through to him. Or maybe he just wanted me to let my guard down so he could chew through some more of my favorite belongings. I wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Come on, mutt,” I called, grabbing one of his leashes from the hook by the door. Ollie barked once, then ran over, jumping up on my leg, wiggling too much for me to hook it to his collar. “You have to let me... Dang it, Ollie.” Finally, I got the leash hooked onto his collar, and then as soon as I opened the door, he was off in a flash, trying to rip my arm out of its socket.
Thankfully, he didn’t weigh enough to really pull me, but I did hurry after him before he could try too hard. At the shop, I barely opened the door before he sprinted over to Darla who was closing up for the day. She glanced down at him, then back over her shoulder at me, but said nothing.
