A Geek Girl's Guide to Arsenic (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The ride home took hours. We stopped at the local police station, where I made an official statement, then at the Marshal’s office, inconveniently located several towns away. My disposition wavered incessantly between irritation at being paraded around in Bree’s ridiculous costume, cloak or no cloak, blinding anger at whoever did this and overwhelming relief I’d survived.

Sometime during an EMT’s evaluation of my mental state, annoyed, and physical damage, general bruising, I formulated a new life purpose. As long as I had breath and mobility, I wouldn’t stop hunting the animal torturing us. An invisible ogre hoped to scare me off his trail with some paintballs and hate mail? Foolish. If he’d taken time to study his prey, he’d know I was far too hardheaded to let this go now. I wouldn’t be a plaything, despite my current getup. There were no perfect crimes. Everyone got caught sooner or later. Sooner worked better for me.

I’d kept in touch with the phone tree every step of the way via group texting. Grandma had everyone at her place and pizza on the way.

Jake waved his badge at the guard gate. The young part-timers on night shift weren’t as friendly as Bernie or as vigilant as Jake preferred. For once, I agreed with him.

He cleared the gate with a frown. “I’ll drop you at your apartment to change then circle back to watch the gate. That guy at the booth has his eyes on his phone. A herd of elephants could get past him.”

“What about pizza? My family’s got ten thousand questions. You need to be there. I can’t handle all that crazy alone after the night I’ve had.”

He made a cranky face. “You’ll be fine. There’s a detail on the corner of your grandma’s street. I’ve got to stay here. My team confirmed the identities of the men who followed us with the rental car. Both are confirmed associates of Bennie the Bean’s son, Anthony.”

“We were on our way here.” Mob goons knew where I lived.

“They know I came here. That’s all. I’m staying at the gate until I can get someone to cover me. Let your family know I’ll come over as soon as I can. I’m going to walk, scout the way as I go. I’m sure the community’s safe, but that seems the best course. I’ll answer their questions when I get there, but safety trumps curiosity.”

That was debatable in this family, but I didn’t argue. “Fine.”

I rode the elevator alone to my empty apartment. I had three minutes to perform a thorough check and text him or he was coming up. In light of the new revelation, I preferred he tend to the gate, so I quickly cased the place. Relieved not to find any lurking murderers, I texted him
ALL
CLEAR
.

I watched his taillights disappear from my living room windows and dim in the distance. The ticking clock in my silent loft reminded me of scary movies, steadily counting off seconds until a pair of hands jutted from the shadows and dragged me kicking and screaming off screen.

I hurried to my room for a hot shower and fresh clothes. The sooner I was enveloped in the hustle and bustle of my family’s fussing and clucking, the better.

Bree’s costume clung to my stomach, attached by sticky, partially dried paint. I winced as my ribs responded to the freedom of losing the corset. Bruising had spread like an ugly venom beneath my skin, changing the pasty white to varied shades of purple and brown.

I climbed, terrified, into the shower and washed the night down my drain. Tears. Fear. All of it, except my new mission. My mind reeled with possible suspects and motives. The killer taunted me because I interfered and got his crazy attention. I was a game to him. Was John his game before me? If I knew the motive, it would help narrow my suspect list. Who would kill John and why? The apothecary was close to him. She might have seen or heard something. Most crimes had something to do with money, but John was broke. There was no money to be made there. So why hurt him? Unless my original blackmail theory was right. John might have given all his money to this invisible bully. If I didn’t have more money than I could use, I might have followed that theory longer.

I coated myself in a second lather, trying impossibly to wash the negative away and hone my thoughts. There was always Jake’s hypothesis. Maybe it was a mob hit. I wasn’t a mob expert, but hit sounded quick. Boom. It didn’t make sense for the hitter to stick around like this, which took me back to the theory this had nothing to do with Jersey. Except the unnamed thugs in the stalking rental car were from there. Why else would they come to Ohio, if not for the man intending to put their jobs and freedom in danger?

After a thorough scrubbing, I exited the shower feeling solid. Strong. I’d hash this out with my family over pizza, and we’d find another thread to pull until the killer was in handcuffs.

Bree had texted three times while I showered. Once to tell me she parked Grandma’s golf cart in the spot my car normally filled. Again to say Dad returned my car to the spot beside it, my designated visitor space. She also said to put on lipstick because she invited a friend.

I returned her text with a close-up picture of my unhappy face. She promised no matchmaking for a month, but I knew who she had in mind this time, and I’d already asked Jake to come. On business.

Outside my closet, I dressed in layers. A camisole, a paisley blouse and a V-neck sweater, plus jeans stuffed into boots. I’d never wear enough clothes again.

My phone buzzed with a text from Grandma as I boarded the elevator.

Marvin’s at the gate. Will you swing by and show him the way?

On it.

I hopped into the night with vigor and boarded Grandma’s cart. A few minutes later, I found Marvin in a sleek new Cadillac just inside the gate. Jake waved from the security booth.

Marvin stuck his head through his open window. “Should I follow you? If you’re too cold in that, I could give you a ride.”

“No. I’m fine.” I motioned for him to follow and pointed to the empty clubhouse lot as we approached. I wasn’t getting in a car with anyone I’d just met after the day I’d had and, to be honest, I didn’t fully trust him to follow me and not mow me down with that giant car. I’d take my chances at hand-to-hand combat if needed.

Marvin parked in the first space and repositioned his rearview mirror. He ran a palm across a few white hairs on his head and climbed out, carrying a small potted plant. “Nice wheels.” He patted the roof of the golf cart and climbed in beside me. His black pants rode up his calves, revealing navy socks with multi-colored music notes.

Would a killer wear such happy socks?

He whistled as we started down the road. “I used to have a cart like this. I bet these are handy in a closed community. Your grandmother loves Horseshoe Falls.”

“Me, too. This cart belongs to Grandma.” Hence the sporty royal-blue-and-emerald paint job. She’d wanted little flags to line the roof, but I advised against it. Too showy.

I pressed the gas a little harder and hoped to cut out as much small talk as possible. For all I knew, killers loved happy socks, specifically ones with music notes. I kept him in my periphery as we motored along. If he was the killer, he’d need real magic to take me down tonight. He was bigger, but I was younger, faster and currently meaner.

He ran milky blue eyes over me as we blinked in and out of sight in cones of light cast from meticulously planned street lamps. “I’m sorry about what’s happening to you and your family.”

“Thanks.” My gaze slipped to the little potted flower in his hands. My mind itched with puzzle pieces scraping toward one another. “Is that for Grandma?”

His face brightened. “Yes. It’s a zinnia. Magenta for lasting affection.”

I swerved. My grip tightened on the wheel. “Like a coral rose means desire?”

“You know the language of flowers. Very good. Most young people pay no attention. Your grandmother has taught you well. She’s a true Renaissance woman.” His words turned to jumbled noise.

I veered off the road and stamped the brake, unable to release the wheel.
The language of flowers.
Plants and flowers were all over this case and I hadn’t given them a single thought. Not in that aspect. What if this was the new lead everyone was waiting for? “Do you know the language? Do you know any other meanings?”

“A few. It’s been decades since I took an interest. My mother loved zinnias, so their meanings and colors stuck.”

Shivers rocked through me as I forced my hands from the wheel and into my pocket to retrieve my phone. I flipped through recent photos with bumbling fingertips. “Do you know any of these?” I shoved my phone in his direction.

I’d lied to Jake and saved pictures from the apothecary’s murder scene. She was surrounded by flowers. John had a trash can full of flowers. What if they weren’t romantic bouquets? What if John confided in her about the flowers and she discovered their sinister relevance? I felt the truth of it in my bones.

Marvin tapped the screen and pointed it my way. “It’s hard to say without my glasses, but I believe this one is a geranium.”

I blinked. “Yes. It’s a geranium. Do you know what it means?”

He wrinkled his brow. “Well, I might be confused.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s been a very long time, you understand?” His jovial demeanor turned awkward. “I think it means folly. It’s a rebuff. Like saying you’re stupid. I’m certain whomever sent you a geranium had no idea. Surely no gentleman would insult a lady that way. Most people have no idea the language exists. They simply choose what’s pretty.” He frowned at the ugly geranium. “Or practical.”

“This wasn’t a gift for me.” I thumbed to the next photo. “These were sent to recent murder victims. What about this one?”

His eyes widened. “Oh, dear.”

“Marvin, please.” I turned to face him in the little cart. “Tell me about this one. What do yellow carnations mean?”

He nodded, giving the little screen his full attention. “Rejection. Maybe disapproval.”

“Okay. You’re doing great. And this? What about these little white flowers? They look like the shrubs that grow here.”

Marvin cleared his throat and checked over his shoulders. “It’s a mock orange. It grows everywhere. They mean deceit.”

I spun in place, jammed the gas and gunned the cart toward Grandma’s house. Marvin gripped the dash to stay on his seat. “What’s happening?”

My phone buzzed. I tapped the screen.

Bree:
Have
you
left
yet?
My
special
guest
is
at
the
gate.
Pick
him
up
and
bring
him
over
with
Marvin.

I darted past the unmarked car at the corner of Grandma’s street, clearly our family’s security detail, and angled into the base of her driveway. “Go on. Tell them what you told me. Let Bree know I’m going to pick up Jake at the guard gate. I’ll fill him in on our way back. They have the florist in custody. The new information will cinch this case.”

Marvin nodded and hustled to Grandma’s door.

I zoomed back the way I’d come. I slowed to wave at the detail, but no one was in the car at the end of her block.

I shot Bree a text:
Your detail is missing.

Bree:
Grandma
called
them
inside
to
feed
them.
You’re
outside
already?
Come
in.

My family was safe. The officers were with them. I had solved the case. I should’ve been ecstatic, but the weight over my heart hadn’t lifted.

I powered back toward the gate, taking a shortcut through the grass around the lake, and down the walking path past the waterfall. There was no time for stop signs and intersections. Jake would finish the puzzle. I’d tell him what Marvin said, and he’d help me pull it all together. I rounded the falls and looped back onto the main road as something Marvin said niggled in my mind. He’d called Grandma a Renaissance woman for knowing the language of flowers. Since he also knew this language, did that make him a true Renaissance man? Where had I heard that phrase?

Jake’s truck sat silently at the curb where I’d passed it before. A new car idled in front of it. His backup. I shot onto the road in front of it and stopped for a closer look, half expecting Jake to be waiting. The men inside appeared to be asleep. Their heads lulled forward. A pair of paper cups filled the holders. Crumbs covered their chests.

“Oh, no.” I jumped free of the cart and pounded on the windows. “Hello! Hello!” I jerked the driver’s side handle to no avail. “Jake!” I screamed at the booth several yards away. “Jake!” I ran around the car to the curb. The passenger door was unlocked. I swung it open and the passenger rolled onto the curb headfirst.

I stuffed a fist into my mouth and texted Jake. Silently praying for a good reason he hadn’t heard me scream.

The phone rang in my hands. “Hello?”

Jake’s anxious voice filled my eyes with fresh tears. He wasn’t dead. Not like the pair before me. “Mia? Where are you?”

“I’m at the car in front of your truck. Your men are...” What were they? I pressed two fingers to the man’s neck at my feet, carefully probing the warm skin for signs of life. Blood poured from his head where the sidewalk bit a chunk of his scalp away. That part was my fault. I closed my eyes and concentrated. Slowly, a gentle thrumming registered through my icy fingertips. “Alive! His pulse is thin, but it’s there. I don’t know about the other one. Hang on.”

Jake’s voice flared into marshal mode. He ordered people around in the background.

I didn’t see any movement at the gate. “What’s taking so long?”

I scrambled over the fallen man into the car and shut down the engine. If whatever they ate didn’t kill them, carbon dioxide wouldn’t finish the job on my watch. I pressed my hand to the driver’s throat, massaging the stubbled skin with my fingers, hunting the place where I’d find his heartbeat. “I don’t feel a pulse on the driver, but my hands are shaking and he’s got this crazy neck beard.” Adrenaline rocketed through me. “I could use some help over here! Get your ass in gear, Archer!” I scanned the silent night again. Only road noise and personal panic tainted the calm. “Who are you talking to? I don’t see anyone other than these two.”