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

busy during lunch. While we were cleaning up, Ephy found the box of chocolates and asked what it was.”

Mike pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started scribbling. “Did you see the box before Ephy found it?”

“No.”

“Where was it?”

“On the counter, I guess. Ephy was—”

“On the counter, you guess?” Mike repeated, sounding skeptical.

I bit my tongue to keep from snapping at him, but I was less successful at keeping the exasperation out of my voice. “I don’t know, Mike. I didn’t see it, remember?”

He looked at me with one eyebrow raised, but, to his credit, looked right back down at his notepad. “What about Sammy and Rhonda?”

“I don’t think so. They would have said something.”

“I’ll have to talk to them.”

I turned around to call them over, but he stopped me.

“Later. Who was in the café today?”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t even look up.

“I have no idea. I was working. And we were busy.”

His eyebrow went up as he tapped his pen on the notepad.

“I could give you some names, but it won’t be nearly everyone. And I didn’t know everyone who was in. It’s not the full season yet, but we’re starting to get tourist traffic—”

“I’ll need to see your credit card receipts.”

I nodded. “Not a problem.” I didn’t bother pointing out that lots of people still paid cash, particularly regulars who had a usual and knew their total off the tops of their heads. A little voice in the back of my mind reminded me that those regulars were the people most likely to have been at the party, but I didn’t want to think about that now—or ever.

He ran through a few more questions about whether anyone saw the package get delivered, how it was wrapped, and who had touched it. Then he leaned back again in the chair. “The chocolates and the box are on their way to the state lab for testing. They have more resources up there than we do, and I don’t want to miss anything.” He stopped and shook his head. “I don’t like this, Fran.”

I wanted to snap back that he should try it from my side for a while, but I controlled myself. “You said the chocolates are on their way to the lab. That means she didn’t—”

His sad eyes met mine. “She didn’t choke.”

I knew what he was going to say next but willed him to say something else.

“The doctor said it didn’t fit the pattern of an allergic reaction either. We think the chocolates were poisoned. I’m sorry, Franny, but the indications are that she was gone before she hit the floor.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth as I tried to gulp back a sob. It was the result I had known was coming, but it still felt like a gut punch. Poor Ephy. All she’d wanted was a piece of chocolate. My last words to her hadn’t even been kind. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore and burst into sobs. I heard Sammy and Rhonda’s chairs being pushed back, and then their arms were around me, their own tears mingling with mine.

“She’s gone?” Rhonda asked.

“I’m sorry,” Mike answered quietly. “Did she have an emergency contact on file?”

“It would be with her employment paperwork,” Rhonda answered for me.

“I’ll come by and get it later. They’re starting the autopsy soon, and I want to be there for it. I’ll call you later, Franny.”

I nodded, still sobbing.

He got up to leave but stopped and put his hand on my shoulder first. “I’m so sorry.” His heavy footsteps crossed the patio and faded away as the three of us sat in the corner and cried.

Chapter 18

Hours later, I was curled up on the couch with Latte, the TV playing a repeat of a baking competition I’d seen at least a dozen times but at least found comforting and familiar. Matt was banging around in the kitchen, making an awful racket. He’d said he was going to make us dinner, but it didn’t sound like it was going very well so far. He only knew how to make two things, one of which was spaghetti with meat sauce, so I didn’t know how wrong it could go, but I wasn’t optimistic based on the muttering I was hearing.

I buried my face in Latte’s fur and inhaled. He probably needed a bath, but his dog smell was comforting. I scratched his head, and he twisted around to lick my face.

A quiet knock came at the door. Latte picked his head up, ready to run to the door and defend our abode and all that lived in it, but then put his head back down against my arm, deciding snuggles were more important than defense.

The knock came again, a little bit louder this time.

“Matt!”

“Yeah?” he called from the kitchen.

“Could you get the door and tell whoever it is to go away?”

“Someone’s at the door?”

I cuddled a little closer to Latte.

Matt came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel, his sweatshirt half-soaked. “You said someone’s at the door?”

“Yes,” I mumbled. “Tell them to go away.”

He shrugged and went to open the door. “Hey, man!” he said cheerfully. “Franny said to go away.”

“I wouldn’t want you to let me in either.”

Matt chuckled and swung the door open wide. “Come on in.”

I didn’t get up. I’d known that it was Mike the second I’d heard Matt’s greeting. I liked Mike, but I didn’t feel the need to get up and make him feel welcome, especially not today, not when I knew he was here to grill me more.

“Have a seat,” Matt said, welcoming Mike into my house. “You want a beer?”

“I’m on duty.”

“Some water, then?”

“Sure.” Mike sat down on the chair closest to my head while Matt went and got him a glass of water.

I heard the clinking of the glass and then the water running from the faucet, then Matt reappeared. “Here you go. Can I get you anything else?” When Mike shook his head, Matt looked between