Poisoned by Gilt (32 page)

By the time we returned, the workmen had left for the

day. Audrey and I unloaded the mat, which linked together like a toddler's jigsaw puzzle. As we were stacking

the pieces in the back corner of the garage--it was going

to take me a few days to convince her that the practical

way to store a garage mat was to spread it across the

garage floor--I suggested that she guard herself against

micromanaging the workmen. She took my lecture reasonably well, though that usually meant my words went

in one ear and out the other.

We'd been home about twenty minutes when a motion outside the window caught my eye. I rose and looked

out.

"Is something the matter?" Audrey asked, looking up

from the newspaper to peer at me over the rim of her

reading glasses.

"No, I just--" I broke off. Was that a man trying to

hide behind the blue spruce in our side yard?

"What is it?" Audrey rushed to the window. She

gasped when, sure enough, a man peeked out and then

ducked back behind the tree. "Good Lord! A trespasser!

And he's wearing combat fatigues! I'm calling nine-oneone!" She dashed to the phone.

"It's Darren Campesio!" I cried.

Audrey froze with the receiver in her hand. "Darren?

From the contest? Are you sure?"

He was now darting toward another tree. I pointed

with my chin, and Audrey spotted him. "You're right."

She returned the phone to its cradle. "That is Darren!

My neighbors are going to think this is a drug bust or

something!"

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"Or that he's a burglar. And they'll call the police."

"Getting arrested would serve him right. Honestly!"

She threw open the door and marched outside.

"Darren Campesio! You come out from behind my evergreens this minute and explain yourself!" I snatched the

phone receiver and dashed onto the front walk to stand beside her, wishing the phone were Margot's pepper spray.

After a second or two, Darren rounded the tree. "I was

just trying to protect you by keeping an eye on the

house."

"Nonsense! We have an unlisted phone number--

how did you even know where we lived?"

"I found your address on the Internet. It's really very

simple, you know."

"Did you think you'd be able to learn whom I've chosen as the contest winner by spying on me?" Audrey

asked.

"No."

"Then why are you here?" I asked him.

He hemmed and hawed for a while, then finally said,

"The truth is, I was doing some . . . reconnaissance work

for personal reasons."

"Which are?" I asked.

"I'd really rather not say."

"Explain yourself or I'm going to report you for trespassing," Audrey demanded. I held up the phone to reinforce her words.

Darren looked from her to me, then sighed. "I was trying to keep track of when you come and go. And to make

sure nobody else was living here."

"Pardon?" Audrey said.

"I was . . . trying to get a look at your bedroom to see if

both sides of the bed were being used."

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"Oh, for heaven's sake! This is your way of finding out

if I'm available? All you had to do was look at the 'Goings

On Around the Town' column in next Friday's Sentinel.

I'm allowing myself to be auctioned off for charity."

"You are? How much are you expecting to sell yourself

for?"

"A king's ransom. Although it's a single date with me

that's being auctioned." She turned to me. "Oh, and by

the way, Erin, I put your name down, too."

"You didn't!"

She shrugged. "It's for a good cause."

Darren was now grinning at us.

"We'll discuss this later," I snapped at Audrey. "This is

really not a good way of impressing a woman, Mr.

Campesio."

He donned a sheepish smile and turned to Audrey.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Munroe. But, now that you mention it, I am also curious to find out if the contest is over."

"Yes, Darren, I have made my decision, and you can

wait till tomorrow night for my announcement at the

Earth Love awards ceremony."

"Did Burke win?" he asked me in conspiratiorial

tones.

"I don't know who won, Darren."

He nodded and then turned hopeful eyes to Audrey.

"Do you have a date to the event, Ms. Munroe?"

"I just told you, I'm announcing the winner. I can't

very well turn that into a date with one of the three finalists, now, can I?"

"You don't think that would look good?"

"No, I do not. And next time you want to ask me on

a date or to glean some information, don't dress up like

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a duck hunter and stalk me." She stormed into the

house.

"Really, Darren," I said. "You've gone way too far."

He shrugged and kicked at a piece of ice on the

ground like a petulant little boy.

"I'll call the police if you ever stake out our house

again."

"Fine. I won't do it again."

I went back inside the house, leaving Darren in the

front yard, staring down at his combat boots. Audrey had

settled back into her wing chair with the newspaper. She

muttered, "This has been my first chance to read today's

paper, I've been so busy."

"Were you serious about putting my name in for the

auction?"

She lowered the newspaper. "It truly is a good cause,

Erin. And I truly meant to discuss it with you first. It

slipped my mind."

She was one of the least forgetful people I'd ever met.

"I'm sorry, Audrey, but I can't go along with you this

time. You've got to withdraw my name. Or I will."

"I'm sorry, Erin, but it's too late for that. I'm afraid

you're stuck."

Before I could come up with a reply, the doorbell

rang. Although she made a show of annoyance, Audrey

struck me as eager for an interruption. She went to the

door and swung it open. It was Darren, camouflage cap

in his hands. "Good afternoon, Ms. Munroe. I was wondering if you would please give me the pleasure of your

companionship, for dinner and a movie, sometime next

week or the following week."

"No, but thank you for asking."

"Next month?"

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"I don't think so. In all honesty, Mr. Campesio, the

two of us don't have a single thing in common."

"You'll just have to get together with me, so we can

find out if that's true. I'll be clipping that 'Around Town'

column, Ms. Munroe. And then I'll be seeing you at

this charity auction. If you won't agree to date me in

person, I'll just have to be the highest bidder. Good

evening, ladies." He nodded politely, then went on his

way.

Audrey held her composure until he was out of sight,

then grabbed my arm, squeezing way too tight, and said,

"How much money do you have in savings, Erin?"

"I don't know off the--"

"It doesn't matter. I'll pay you back. You have got to

promise me you'll outbid Darren Campesio!"

"Gee, Audrey. No offense, but you're really not my

type. And, I can't very well agree to bid on you while

you've forced me into being auctioned myself. So, I'm

afraid I'll only be able to bid--"

"Oh, fine! I'll get you out of it. Honestly, Erin! You're

acting like a big baby."

I chuckled, but Audrey was in such a foul mood that

she brushed past me without as much as a smile. "See if I

ever offer you access to my little black book again."

On Saturday morning, Sullivan called. He said he'd

just spoken to Burke, who wanted us both to meet him at

Asia's house around noon. Apparently he needed two witness signatures for his formal agreement to dismantle his

windmill in exchange for Asia's removing the gaudy

bazaar of items along their joint property line. He promised our visit shouldn't take more than ten minutes.

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Sullivan picked me up, and we made it there right on

time, at noon. There was no sign of Burke's car as we

pulled up near Asia's driveway. "I wonder why Burke

chose us for this strange task," I said as we waited.

"I asked him that. He didn't know anyone else who'd

met Asia McClure and could still tolerate her company."

"That's probably true. Although I doubt he looked all

that hard."

He shut off the engine. "We'll have to wait here. Burke

felt strongly that all three of us should arrive together."

Burke was fifteen minutes late, which was very unusual

for him. I'd been just about to call him on his cell phone

when he drove into Asia's driveway and waved. We

pulled in after him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as we emerged from our vehicles. "Especially since this is a weekend. Let's get this

over with fast, so I won't take up any more of your time,

okay?"

"Lead the way," Sullivan said, gesturing to the door.

Asia must have seen us approach, because she opened

the door as we were still starting to make our way up her

steps. "What are you doing here? Is this an energyconsumption intervention or something?"

Ignoring her remark, Burke said, "I asked Erin and

Steve to meet me here and act as mediators." He paused,

but when she said nothing, he pulled a trifolded sheet of

paper out of his inner jacket pocket and held it out to

her. "I typed up a friendly little proposal. It says that I will

take down the windmill from my property in exchange

for your removing any and all obstacles from the border

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between our properties. Including those in the pond and

the webbing itself."

"Let me read it for myself. Wait here." She went into

her house and shut the door.

"Was your desk delivered this morning, Burke?" I

asked.

"I hope so. Matthew said he'd deliver it no later than

ten, but I had to take off before nine. I left a note telling

them to remove its packaging and recycle the materials,

and to leave the desk on the porch."

"Out in the open?" I asked in alarm.

"Why not?" Burke replied. "The sky's clear as a bell,

and my house is in the middle of nowhere."

That was true, but the idea of a custom-made desk left

on someone's porch still made me nervous. Obviously

Burke didn't share my concerns, however, and it was his

property. "We should inspect the desk, since we're here,"

I said to Steve.

Burke rolled his eyes. "The three of us could probably

head over there right now, move it into place, write a

couple of letters, and return, all before Asia will open her

door again."

But Asia came outside right then. "Fine. I signed it.

Just add your initials to my handwritten codicil, and

you've got a deal."

Burke puzzled over her handwriting for a few moments, then said to us, "We have until noon next

Saturday to take down our windmill and our fence, respectively." He initialized the document. "Which is fine

by me. I can have workers here Monday morning to dismantle the windmill."

"In which case I'll get the fence down on Tuesday,"

Asia replied.

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"Great. I'm glad we could--" She shut her door.

"Always such a pleasant woman," Sullivan remarked.

We walked to our cars. Burke was grinning. "I'm sure

she'll be ecstatic when she finds out I sold my windmill

to Darren Campesio. And that I talked him into building

a third."

"You did?" I couldn't help but grin as well.

He laughed and nodded. "She can do what she wants

to Darren's fence. It isn't visible from my property, and

I'm sure Darren won't mind." He rubbed his hands together. "So, want to follow me and take a quick look at

the desk?"

"Absolutely."

He led the way.

We arrived a minute or two later and followed him up

the walkway. The three of us stood on his front porch, unabashedly admiring the gorgeous hand-crafted desk.

"It's a thing of beauty," Steve said. He sometimes designed furniture himself, and I had known this desk

would be totally to his taste.

"Wow!" Burke said. "I like this even better than the

one you showed me on Matthew's Web site." He pulled

out one of the drawers on the side, and then slid it back

into place. "It's great. You can open and close these drawers with one finger."

"It really is amazing," I said. "Let me show you the

joinery, Steve." I tried to open the kneehole drawer.

"Huh. This one drawer seems to be a little stuck," I muttered.

"Let me take a look," Sullivan said.

I tugged hard on the drawer. It slid open. A bracket

had been fastened to the bottom of the drawer, and just

in front of it, a ball-like object attached to a string was

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vibrating. The action of my tugging the drawer open

must have dislodged the ball from where it was wedged.

But why was it there in the first place?

My brain took forever to make the connection, but

Burke's reactions were faster. He yelled, "It's a grenade!"

c h a p t e r
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he bracket had kept the safety clamped down, and