Chocolate Dipped Death Page 18

  The answer to Savannah’s murder was inside that box. I knew it. I could feel it. I didn’t say a word to anybody until I was locked safely inside the Jetta, then I pulled out the cell phone and punched Jawarski’s number.

  Chapter 17

  “How long will it take?” I paced nervously along the floor in an unused interrogation room at the police station where I’d been waiting for an hour already. I don’t mind admitting that I was getting antsy over the delay and more than eager to see the lab results.

  My suit jacket lay abandoned, slung over the back of a chair near the door. I’d kicked off my shoes long before that. And I wished I’d thought to bring along a pair of jeans. The waistband of my skirt was probably creating permanent indentations in my skin.

  Jawarski watched me from a chair in front of the two-way mirror. His lips curved at my nervousness, and his gaze strayed occasionally from my face to my legs. I just couldn’t tell whether he appreciated the view or merely wondered why I’d exposed them to the world.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer,” he said. “O’Keefe told me he’d put a rush on it.”

  “Do you think I’m right?”

  He patted the seat beside him, waited for me to sit, and lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s possible. Guess we’ll find out when the lab results come back.”

  I’d been pacing, nervous, shaking and sick with dread at the possibilities since I arrived at the police station. Someone had used Divinity to commit murder. Someone had roamed around inside the store without me knowing it. I felt exposed and violated. But Jawarski’s little joke actually made me smile. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

  He looked me over again carefully. Long enough to make me stop shaking with fear and start trembling for another reason entirely. Long enough to make my stomach do a little flip-flop and turn my blood into something resembling melted caramel. Who was he? I suddenly needed to know. I don’t mean that I was mildly curious, or that I wanted to know more about him. I mean that I needed to know with a desperation that frightened me.

  He watched whatever was happening on my face, leaned a little closer, and nudged me with his shoulder. “You okay, kid?”

  I nodded without taking my eyes from his. They were deep and blue today, and I wondered what the world looked like from his end of it. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  About what? About his past? About where he came from? Whether or not he’d been married before? What brought him to Paradise? Yes, to all of that and more. But I knew he didn’t mean any of that, and what more was there to say about Savannah’s death until we knew the truth?

  I was terrified that the lab technician would find the poison in the chocolates, and even more afraid that Karen would turn out to be the person responsible. But how could I admit that aloud? Especially to Jawarski?

  All I really wanted was to lean into those solid arms of his and lay my head on his shoulder—just for a minute or two.

  Or maybe longer.

  I shook my head, but it took just about everything I had to make it move in that direction. “What will you do if the poison is inside the chocolates?”

  “I guess we’ll start interviewing people to find out who had access to the second-floor of your building. We’ll probably start with you.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  He nudged me again, and in spite of the topic we were discussing, the caramel in my veins took another sluggish turn. “Want to tell me about it now?”

  I put a little distance between us—not because I wanted to, but because it seemed smart. “What is this, Jawarski? Some new investigative technique?”

  I regretted the question the instant it left my mouth. He straightened sharply, and the softness in his eyes cooled and hardened. “No, Abby. It’s not. If you’d like to see one, I can oblige. Just in case we find something in the chocolates, why don’t you tell me who had access to the second-floor meeting room this week, starting with the day of the contest and moving on.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving away my apology. But the moment was lost, and I regretted opening my big mouth. He stood, stretched, and moved to the other side of the table. “So what do you know about the chocolates?”

  Stupid tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to cry over a man—even Jawarski. “Nothing. They were there when I locked up on Friday night. I didn’t go upstairs again until Evie told me the box was missing.”

  “Who did go up there?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody could have gone up there between the contest and when Savannah went missing. There wasn’t time, and the store was locked.”

  “Somebody must have.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Did anybody stick around late or show up early the next day?”

  I sat back in my chair and tried to think back that far. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a year. “Karen and Evie left before a lot of people. Meena Driggs was one of the last contestants to leave. Marshall Ames stuck around and helped me wash up. As a matter of fact, you might want to talk to Marshall. I don’t think he’s involved in Savannah’s death, and I’m sure he didn’t go upstairs that night, but Delta says that he had a big old grudge against Savannah because of the way she treated him back in school, and Faith Bond mentioned a conversation between him and Savannah about some letter.”

  Now that I’d gotten started, pieces were beginning to snap into place. “Miles was telling me about some lady who was at the contest and also came in to search. According to him, Savannah knew something that would mean big trouble for this woman if it ever got out.”

  Jawarski seemed interested in that. “Any idea who she is, or what it was?”

  “No, but he saw her twice and recognized her the second time, so maybe he’ll see her again somewhere and point her out.” I propped my feet on an empty chair. “It can’t be Evie Rice. He’d know who she was. She’s been at Divinity at least two times that we know of. Maybe she’ll come again for the memorial service.”

  Jawarski’s big head bobbed up and his eyes locked on mine. “What memorial service?”

  “I thought maybe I should do something before the contest gets under way again. You know—a few minutes to remember Savannah and maybe get somebody to say a good word about her.”

  “I guess that sounds all right.”

  “What are you doing, Jawarski? Giving me permission?” Sometimes I just can’t keep my mouth shut, even when I know I should.

  His expression became even more brittle. “Have you got a problem with me, Ms. Shaw? If so, would you kindly get it off your chest?”

  “How could I have a problem with you, Jawarski? I don’t know the first thing about you.” I told myself to stop. This wasn’t going to accomplish anything. But I’m not good at taking advice—not even my own. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know where you came from, and I don’t know what you’re doing here. I don’t even know what we are. Friends? Acquaintances? More? Less? Are we dating, or am I just one of the guys you happen to share a pizza with now and then?” And there they were, emotions I hadn’t even let myself acknowledge, much less process, dropped onto the table between us like a big, shapeless mound of taffy.

  I hated that I felt that way. It seemed needy and weak, and I hated even more that I’d let it all slip out like that.

  Jawarski’s expression didn’t change. He just stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “What do you want to know?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” I shot to my feet and turned my back on him so I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m tired. I’m confused. I’m stuck in the middle of another suspicious death, and now it looks like whoever did this may have used Divinity in some way. I’ve managed to make everybody around me angry, and I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

  He stood, and I had one brief moment of hope that he’d leave, then another even stronger moment
of fear that he would. He stepped up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and very gently turned me around to face him.

  Was I still breathing? I couldn’t be sure.

  Was he? Yes, I could feel the gentle in and out of his breath, smell a hint of garlic from his lunch, feel the warmth on my cheek.

  I stood there, unmoving, unthinking, as he leaned in close and touched his lips to mine. It was over before my heart could beat twice, but it sucked my breath away.

  He straightened. Grinned down at me. “Hope that answers at least one of your questions. Now sit down. Rest for a few minutes. I’ll be back when I have the lab report.” He stepped into the hallway and started to shut the door. “Want a Coke or something?”

  I think I nodded. I can’t be sure. He was gone before I could figure it out.

  He came back twenty minutes later, two Cokes clutched in one hand (that answered that question) and a couple of official-looking documents in the other. “You were right,” he said as he handed me one of the cans. “The candy was laced with amitriptyline.” He held up the papers, a visual reference.

  “So what’s that?”

  “A drug commonly known as Elavil. Antianxiety drug used to treat depressive neurosis, manic-depression, and anxiety associated with depression.” He opened a folder and ran his finger along the page. “According to this, an overdose would cause tremors, seizures, changes in blood pressure, irregular heartbeat, heart attack, heart failure, stroke, and death, to name just a few. Reaction time, fifteen to forty minutes. Somebody meant business.”

  “And they put that into a box of Divinity candy? What if the wrong person had gotten into it? One of the housekeeping staff or a kid? What if Miles had offered a piece to someone who came to visit him?” I shuddered at the thought.

  “Then we might have had an even bigger tragedy on our hands. We’re lucky this stuff was contained.” Jawarski drummed his fingers on the tabletop and read over the report again. “Whoever it was, they must have injected the poison”—he glanced at me and tossed off a lopsided grin—“unless you poured it into the whole batch.”

  The time I’d spent alone had helped me get a grip on myself, so I grinned back. “Sorry, Jawarski. I know that would make your job easier, but I can’t help you. You’re going to have to look for a crazed madman running around Paradise with a loaded syringe.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” He tossed the file folder onto the table and cracked open his Coke. “She was poisoned, but it was the impact of the car that killed her. The question now is, why poison her and then run her down?”

  “Maybe we’re not talking about just one person,” I suggested.

  One eyebrow arched high. “You think this is like Murder On the Orient Express? Everybody did it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s a thought, that’s all.” I stood and stretched, trying to make this latest news make sense. “There are plenty of people with motive to kill her. Anybody could have walked into the hotel and left a package for a guest. What about the car? Do you have any leads on who stole it?”

  Jawarski skimmed a disapproving glance over me, and I knew we were straying into questionable territory. I could talk about the poison because the candy came from Divinity, but asking about the car meant I was getting involved in the investigation. “Not yet,” he said slowly, “but we’re working on it. I’ll be going out to the Old Miner’s Inn in a few minutes to talk with some of the staff there. I’m still hoping we can find somebody somewhere who saw or heard something that morning.”

  “Do you have any idea when the car was taken? Could it have been taken the night before?”

  Jawarski shook his head. “The guys who rented it were out late. They say they pulled in from Aspen at about two in the morning. Unless they’re lying—and they have no reason to—the car was stolen between then and five thirty.”

  “So we’re looking for someone who had motive and opportunity and who also has no alibi for the middle of the night.” I shrugged and put my feet up again. “Piece of cake, Jawarski. I don’t know why you’re still sitting here. What are you going to do? Run through the phone book starting with A?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I could make it easier on you. I could put together that memorial service, and we could use that to see if we can draw the killer out.”

  The smile slipped from his face. “Hold on a second, Abby. Let’s get one thing straight. There is no we. Not when we’re talking about the investigation. I appreciate you bringing me the evidence. I appreciate the fact that you figured out the poison was in that box of chocolates, and I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to help, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you get any more involved than that.”

  “Let me?” This time, my eyebrow arched.

  “This isn’t a man-woman thing,” he snarled. “This is a police-civilian thing.”

  I shrugged to show that he had me on that one, but I wasn’t ready to cave in completely. “Let me put it this way, Jawarski. I’m going to hold a memorial service. When I do, I’m going to make sure Miles Horne is there.” I dropped my feet to the floor and leaned closer. “When he is, he might just be able to identify the woman Savannah told him about. If he does, wouldn’t you like to be there?”

  “You think your mystery woman is the killer?”

  “I have no idea, but it’s a possibility, isn’t it? Even if she’s not, I’ll bet the killer will be there. At the very least, the poisoner will almost certainly be there. Unless, of course, the poisoning was a random act of violence that just happened to occur on the same day as the hit-and-run accident that killed a universally disliked woman who just returned to her hometown after a protracted absence.” I pretended to consider for a moment, then nodded. “Could happen.”

  “Yeah.” Jawarski actually smiled. “In Abby-world.” He sobered again and locked eyes with me. “Put together your memorial service, and I’ll be there—unless I already have the murderer in custody. But you do one thing to put yourself in jeopardy or hinder this investigation, and I’ll—” He broke off as if he’d just confused himself and stood so he could tower over me. I guess it made him feel better. “Just don’t do anything to interfere with my investigation, Abby, that’s all.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Believe it or not, I really don’t have any desire to become involved. But finding that candy . . . well, that made it personal somehow. Somebody used me—my store, at least, to kill another human being. I hate that.”

  “It had nothing to do with you or with the store. The candy was handy—”

  “You don’t know that. In fact, the candy wasn’t handy. Someone had to get up to the second floor where Evie left that box of chocolates—and who would have known it was even there? It’s not something that somebody just stumbled across between one night and the next morning.”

  “Maybe somebody else noticed that Evie left it behind.”

  “That’s possible, of course, but they couldn’t have gotten into the store—unless my security is a whole lot worse than I think it is.”

  Jawarski put a hand over mine. “We’ll figure it out, Abby. Try not to worry. Something will occur to you, or we’ll find a clue that will lead us in the right direction.”

  I tried to look reassured, but no matter how hard I thought or what angle I looked at the problem from, I was pretty sure I already had the answer. Only one person could have gotten to that candy.

  My cousin. The one on antidepressant medication.

  Chapter 18

  I called Elizabeth from my cell phone as I left the police station and asked if she’d mind watching the store for another hour. She agreed, so I drove down Twelve Peaks to Marshall’s restaurant. He’d been at Divinity with me the night of the contest. Maybe he’d seen something or someone I hadn’t.

  Gigi is a chic place, streamlined, modern, all wood and metal and straight lines. I parked—not an easy task with the lunch crowd already gathering—and followed a laughing group of sunburned ski
ers toward the door. Already, the line of customers waiting to be seated filled the foyer and spilled out onto the sidewalk.

  It was probably the worst time in the world to talk with Marshall, but I didn’t turn away. This was too important, and if I was wrong and he did have something to do with Savannah’s death, catching him now might make it harder for him to script his answers.

  I jostled my way through the crowd, ignoring the grumbles of protest in my wake, and gave my name to the young woman at the front desk before leaning into a corner to wait.

  Delta’s dry coffee cake and the Danish had long since worn off, and the scents of beef and garlic, the sight of tray after tray laden with meals being delivered to nearby tables made my stomach cramp with hunger. I’d have given almost anything for time enough to enjoy a leisurely lunch, but I’d already been away from Divinity all morning. No matter how willing Elizabeth was to help, I didn’t feel right leaving her there much longer.

  Just when I was starting to think that I was wasting my time, Marshall swooped into the waiting area. He wore an obviously expensive black suit and white shirt, the top two buttons of which had been carelessly (or carefully) left open. His pale hair and glasses gave him a slightly boyish look, and I wondered again why I hadn’t noticed him in high school. Maybe he was just a late bloomer.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he said. “We’re shorthanded in the kitchen, so today’s rush has been even more hectic than usual.”

  “I completely understand. Actually, I probably shouldn’t even bother you. I’ll just take two minutes if you can spare them.”

  With a grin, Marshall nodded toward the dining area. “I can give you five, but you’ll have to walk with me.”

  “Deal.”

  “So what brings you out in the middle of the day?” he asked over his shoulder as we walked. “Is there some kind of trouble?”