Cooking Up Murder (17 page)

"Are you listening to yourself?" Jim's question stopped me cold. "I mean, it's fun to sit here and speculate. It's a fine game to play with friends over a couple drinks. But you and Eve, you've taken it to another level. It worries me that you sound as if you're actually enjoying it."

"No, not enjoying. But it's a puzzle, and all the pieces aren't in place. I'd like to get them sorted out, that's all. I'd like to figure out how everything fits together."

"I can understand that. Only, Annie . . ." Jim reached across the table and covered my hand with his. "I don't think it's a good idea. A man has already died."

"And you think--"

"I don't think it, I know it. Remember, your stove exploded. I thought it was an accident until right this very moment. Now I'm not so sure. In light of everything you've told me, I can't help but think you're onto something. And somebody doesn't like it."

"Really?" Honestly, I hadn't thought we were that close to solving the murder. Now, thinking that we might be close, I felt a rush of adrenaline "Maybe I'm a pretty good detective after all." I couldn't keep a smile from spreading across my face.

But why didn't Jim look as excited as I felt?

He slid out of the booth. The next thing I knew, he was sitting next to me. He grabbed both my hands and looked me in the eye. "You must promise me something, Annie," he said.

Promise?

At that point, I would have promised anything. The sun. The moon. The stars. When Jim looked at me that way, no way I could refuse him anything.

I swallowed hard, schooling my voice and forcing another smile. "What is it you want?"

"Promise me you'll stop investigating. Right now. It's too dangerous."

"But--"

"No. That's not good enough. No excuses. Annie, there are professionals who take care of these things. You do your job and you let them do theirs. It's too dangerous."

The cautious part of me knew he was right. But I couldn't get something he said out of my head.

My job.

Do my job.

My boring, go-to-the-bank-every-day job.

Suddenly, it didn't seem like enough anymore.

"You're right," I told Jim. I slid my hand out from his so that I could take a drink of my wine. But when I was done, I didn't put my hand back on the table. I placed it on my lap.

"It is too dangerous. And we're not being careful enough. I promise," I said. "No more investigating."

Jim smiled.

Good thing he didn't see that in my lap, my fingers were crossed.

Eleven

THOUGH IT ISN'T FAR FROM ARLINGTON, OLD TOWN
Alexandria is one of the places I hardly ever went to. Not that it isn't interesting, and picturesque, and wonderful. The narrow streets and side-by-side town houses evoke the time when Alexandria was the thriving port city and George Washington lived just up the river at Mount Vernon. The shops are charming (and charmingly pricey). The restaurants are some of the best in the D.C. metro area. I ought to know--Peter loved seafood, and back when we were a couple, he used to love to impress me, too. We celebrated many a special occasion watching the boats out on the Potomac while we ate lobster. I still remember it fondly.

The lobster, not Peter.

Of course, all that ambiance has a price. Old Town attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists a year. Maybe millions.

I swear, that Sunday afternoon when Eve and I arrived, every single one of them was there.

And we were all looking for a parking space.

"There's one!" I nudged Eve and pointed down North Patrick to an empty spot on the street. But by the time we mauevered our way to it, up a one-way street and down another, the spot was taken.

I collapsed against the passenger seat and sighed. "Are you sure this is worth it? We could just go home."

"And miss this opportunity to do a little more investigating?" Eve's gaze swiveled from one side of the street to the other, her parking-spot radar on maximum. "Not on your life. Besides, when we talked on the phone this morning, I thought you were all for this."

"I was. I am." It was true. I may have lied to Jim the night before, but at least I wasn't trying to fool myself anymore. I
did
want to investigate. Not to prove I was smart, and certainly not to get back at Tyler Cooper like Eve was trying to do. Not so people would look at Eve and me and think we were some sort of whiz kids when it came to solving crimes, either. And not to show up the professionals. I had all the respect in the world for the men and women who did this sort of thing for a living, and I had no doubt that even as we cruised the streets of Old Town in vain, they were out doing some investigating of their own and probably having more success than we were.

But the time I'd spent with Jim the night before had done more than just stir up my hormones. (And believe me, being with Jim really stirred up my hormones!)

As crazy as it seemed, our conversation had pulled something out of me. Something that had been hidden so deep, even I didn't know it was there.

Maybe it was because he was such an honest guy, and I couldn't be anything less than 100 percent aboveboard when I was with him. Maybe these thoughts and feelings had been there all along and were just waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Maybe . . .

Maybe I couldn't explain it, and maybe I didn't want to. Maybe I didn't even have to try.

Maybe it was just time for me to accept the facts: I really wanted to figure out who killed Drago. Not for anything or for anybody, but for me, so that I could prove to myself that I could do it, and more importantly, that there was life beyond the walls of my bank branch. I had to go out on a limb for once. I wanted to take a chance to do something different and exciting. Somewhere along the line, I'd forgotten that there was a big world out there, and for the first time since Peter descended into heavy-on-the-starch madness, I realized I wanted a little piece of it.

Of course for now, I'd settle for a parking space.

"There!" Eve hit the accelerator, and we shot toward a black Volvo that was just pulling away from the curb.

I dug my fingers into the upholstery. "Parallel parking makes me nervous."

Eve laughed. "Parallel parking is a challenge. Like love. And speaking of that . . ." She poked the car into reverse, turned the wheel, and slid into the parking space as if it was made for her three-year-old red Mazda. "What's up with you and Jim?"

My cheeks got warm. "Nothing. He just wanted to talk. About Drago."

"Uh-huh." Eve punched the car into park and reached in the backseat for her purse. "You're lying to yourself if you think that's true."

"You think so?" Even though a relationship with Jim was all I'd thought about all night long, I couldn't allow myself to consider the possibility in the cold light of day. Not without getting all fizzy. I twitched away the sensation that tickled up my back like champagne bubbles in a crystal glass. "I'm not so sure," I said.

Eve squealed out a laugh and slapped me on the knee. "Oh, honey, you are blinder than a one-eyed jack! Come on." She got out of the car, and I followed. Her legs were longer than mine, plus she knew where she was headed. I had to scramble to catch up.

"You think he really is . . ." I felt myself blushing as I tried to get the words out. "Attracted to me?"

"Like bees to honey." She gave me a sidelong look and grinned. "Didn't you know that? Right from the start? Haven't you seen the way he's been looking at you since day one?"

"No." Maybe. Was I that unconscious?

We were just walking past a town house where geraniums and petunias overflowed from boxes on every window, and I paused, taking in the riotous color. "You think so?" I asked Eve. "You really think Jim is--"

"Oh, Annie!" Eve looped her purse over one shoulder and hooked her other arm through mine. Laughing, she steered me toward King Street. "You've been asleep ever since that lowlife Peter up and left you. It's time to wake up, honey! Welcome back to the world."

Welcome back to the world
.

I liked the sound of that.

As I walked along toward wherever Eve was headed--and the next phase of our investigation--I realized that I was smiling from ear to ear.

CALL ME CRAZY, BUT THE SIGN OVER THE FRONT DOOR
didn't exactly inspire confidence that the person inside could help us solve a murder.

It was purple and silver. There was a cute-as-a-button, smiling angel in one corner and loopy cursive across the rest.

Angel Emporium.

When Eve reached for the brass doorknob, I tugged her back. "I don't know," I said. "It doesn't look--"

"What?" She wrinkled her nose the way she always did when she was impatient. "I thought you said you wanted to investigate. I told you, Annie, this lady can help us."

I pressed my nose to the front window, but it was hard to see anything beyond the crystals that hung just beyond it, catching the afternoon light and shooting it back at us in a million, colorful pieces.

"We need a poison expert to figure out what's in that vial you stole from Beyla," I reminded Eve. "Not someone to put us in touch with our higher selves."

Her shoulders stiffened. "I didn't steal it. I borrowed it," she said, firmly ignoring my objection. "And besides, it was all in the line of duty. This vial . . ." She reached into her purse and pulled it out for me to see. "This vial is a major breakthrough in our case. We would have been crazy to ignore the opportunity to appropriate it."

I didn't point out that her use of the word
we
wasn't exactly accurate. I also didn't mention that the simple fact that Eve had even used a word like
appropriate
meant that she had been spending far too many hours in front of
Court TV
. One of us had to stay levelheaded. And even though I'd made the decision to continue with our sleuthing, I knew that one--now and always--had to be me.

"Major breakthrough or not, we have to find out what's in the vial before we move forward," I reminded her. "Maybe a doctor would be able to help us. Or the police. I'll bet the police know plenty about poison."

Eve's upper lip curled. "You want us to go to Tyler and ask him for help? You'll have to boil me in oil before I'll do that. Or make me wear polyester. It's not going to happen, Annie. Not in this lifetime."

"OK, I get it. I agree, no police. But the Angel Emporium?" I could just about feel
cute
ooze out of the shop and wrap around us where we stood at the front door. "Are you sure?"

Eve nodded. "You said we needed an expert, right? That's why we're here. I know Rainbow can help us."

If I was going to buy into this scenario--and at this point,
if
was a pretty crucial word--my confidence evaporated right then and there. "Rainbow? That's not her name, is it? You haven't brought us all the way here and made us parallel park just so we can talk to someone named Rainbow?"

Bless Eve for not knowing sarcasm when she heard it. As always, she took my questions at face value. "Rainbow DayGlow. Is that a great name or what? You'll really like her. Come on."

Because she knew I wasn't going to budge without a little more urging, she opened the door and stepped into the Angel Emporium. I followed her inside.