Punch, Pastries, and Poison by Harper Lin (ebook reader for pc and android .txt) 📕

“Yes, I did,” she said, sniffling.

“No, you didn’t.” I turned her around gently and pointed at the bowl of the spiked punch.

“Yes, I—” She stopped, and her eyes grew wide. “No, I didn’t! I didn’t have everything. I didn’t have the alcoholic punch.”

Her voice came out in a squeal, and she clapped her hands a couple of times. She had a massive grin on her face as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. She’d gone from happy to devastated and back to happy again in a manner of minutes. The wonders of pregnancy, I assumed.

“That’s right,” I mumbled, more to myself than to her. “And neither did Becky or Amanda, and they didn’t get sick either. Or Ephy.” I met Melissa’s eyes. “It was the punch. Someone poisoned the punch.”

Chapter 12

I had my phone out to dial Mike before Melissa even had time to swing from excitement about our discovery back to distress about what had happened.

“Yeah?” Mike said by way of greeting.

“Well, hello to you, too, Officer.” As eager as I was to tell Mike what Melissa and I had figured out, I wasn’t about to let him get away with being rude.

“It’s ‘Detective.’” He would have sounded stern if he hadn’t chuckled quietly first. He must have been feeling better. “What’s up? I was just on my way to see you.”

My heart skipped and not in a good way either. It was in a bad way. A very bad way. “Oh. Um, where?”

“Where?” He sounded genuinely confused. “At your house? You’re at home, aren’t you? Or did you go back to Matt’s?” His turn signal clicked in the background. He was already on his way to my house, and I wasn’t there. I was at the café, which was the worst possible place I could be if Mike was looking for me.

I thought fast, trying to decide whether it was best to meet Mike back at my place or Matt’s. I wanted to check up on Matt and could have really used some of Latte’s kisses, but I was afraid Matt would accidentally give it away that I hadn’t been there all afternoon. Not that I thought I’d done anything wrong by going to the café. I just didn’t want to have to deal with explaining it to Mike.

“Oh, yeah, my house. I just wasn’t sure if I was supposed to meet you somewhere.” I chose my words carefully to keep from straight-out lying.

Melissa’s head jerked up, and she looked at me curiously. I pressed my lips together and gave her a little wave to let her know I’d explain in a minute.

“Can you just give me ten minutes or so to let me get cleaned up a little?” Again, not a lie per se. It would be good to run a cool washcloth over my face and neck. I wasn’t sure whether it was the lingering effects of the eye drops or if someone had turned the café’s air conditioning off, but I was starting to feel warm and a little clammy.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I could use a cup of coff—” He stopped and groaned. “I forgot you’re closed. I’m going to have to get gas station coffee.” His disgust practically walked through the phone to shake hands with me.

“I can make you some when I—when you get to my house.”

Mike sighed. “I’ll see if I can hold out.”

He didn’t sound sure that he could, and to be honest, neither was I. This morning while he supervised the search was the longest I’d ever seen him go without pouring hot coffee down his throat. I didn’t know if he’d gotten a hold of any since then, but I did know that ten minutes was a long time for him to wait after he’d decided he needed a cup. I’d have to think about whether to have mercy on him if he showed up at my house carrying some gas station sludge. It was usually an easy decision to give him as much coffee as he wanted as often as he wanted, but he didn’t usually spend the morning searching my house and business.

“Okay! I’ll see you soon,” I chirped. Then I hung up.

Melissa looked at me like she thought I’d lost my mind.

I smiled weakly. “That was Mike Stanton. From the police department. I’m not sure if he’s okay with me being here while the investigation is still ongoing.”

She nodded knowingly. She was a sweet girl, but I had a feeling she had her rebellious side too.

“He’ll be at my house in ten minutes, so I need to get out of here and get back home.”

“Are you going to tell him about the punch?” she asked, moving toward the door.

I was almost afraid to let her out through the front in case Mike drove by, but it didn’t seem fair to ask her to go out the back and have to walk all the way around the building to get back to the sidewalk and the street.

“Absolutely. Hopefully it will help them solve the case.”

Maybe knowing it was the spiked punch would help them identify who had the most access—other than me, of course. I didn’t know how it would help them, but I held out hope that it somehow would.

“I hope so. I hate even thinking about someone doing such a thing and still being out on the streets where they could hurt someone else.” Melissa shuddered and held her pregnant belly again.

I opened the door for her.

“Let me know if there’s any way I can help. I can’t do much of anything physical lugging this little one around, but I’m still good at sitting and eating if you need me to eavesdrop on anyone.” She giggled, making her eyes sparkle and her dimples pop out.

“You’re welcome to come over and volunteer your services anytime.” I laughed at first, but it faded as something came to mind. “Actually, you didn’t see anything suspicious last night, did you?”

Melissa thought