Tempting Faith (Indigo Love Spectrum) (21 page)

A loud, exaggerated spitting sound, like a stopper being expelled from an inner tube, erupted from Hugo, after which he breathed freely and deeply.

“Maybe you should try chewing your food before you swallow it next time,” Billie griped under her breath.

“Thanks, Victor,” Hugo panted. “I owe you my life.”

Belle stabbed Hugo’s chest with her index finger, and it sank down to the first knuckle into his flab. “
You
owe me a new Waterford crystal serving platter, Hugo.”

“Ms. Dellarosa, would you get a bottle of water for Mr. Broadside?” Victor asked.

“Certainly. I think I could use a good stiff drink myself, but I suppose promotional cranberry juice will have to do.”

“Would you pass a cranberry juice to me, too, Belle?” Desiree asked.

“I’ll have orange, if there’s any,” Billie said.

“There’s no more orange juice,” Belle said. “Lottie grabbed all of them. How about grapefruit?”

“I guess that’ll have to do.”

“I owe you one, Victor. I really do,” Hugo said as he and Victor resumed their seats.

“If everyone’s okay now, what you folks owe is exactly what I came here to talk to you about,” Victor said. “Some of your accounts are seriously past due.”

“Let me handle this, Victor, seeing as I’m president of the Association,” Lottie said, fussily clearing her throat. “Some of our members, Mr. Leadbetter for example, might not wish to have the severity of their debt to you revealed publicly.”

“Actually, Madame President, you owe more than anyone else here.”

“Perhaps we should adjourn for a moment so I can speak with Victor in private,” Lottie suggested.

“No, Mrs. Graball, I think we’ve had enough diversions and distractions for one afternoon. What I have to say is short and sweet. I’ve provided a service to you folks. I expect to be paid for it. That’s all.”

Faith shifted in her chair. Zander’s delivery had an undercurrent of menace that put her on the edge of her seat.

“And you know what, Victor?” Lottie said. “That’s more than fair. It’s about what’s right. Everyone, Victor has provided detailed invoices, itemizing everything you all owe, so I’ll just take the liberty of adding up the totals and dividing the sum six ways. Everyone pays an equal share and the accounts can be settled in one fell swoop with one Association check.”

“Six ways?” Hugo asked. “There are seven of us. How do you figure a six-way split?”

Lottie’s tone became overly sweet. “As you know, Mr. Broadside, the Sunnyside Beautification Association president is entitled to certain privileges that regular members aren’t.”

Billie’s lips pursed so tightly they nearly disappeared. “Yes, you don’t have to pay dues and you get the stall under the skylight in our communal storage shed. Those are the only privileges we voted to give you.”

“When Mrs. Graball was elected president, she renegotiated the contract with my landscaping and gardening service. The association president—Mrs. Graball—receives my services and goods for free. The cost of her yard work is paid by the Sunnyside Beautification Association.”

“That isn’t fair!” Billie shrewishly shrieked. “That isn’t fair at all! I’ve served the Association for six years longer than Lottie has, and I don’t get anything out of it except aggravation. And now you expect me to pay for Lottie’s imported Babylonian Bleeding Heart?”

“Lottie has done a lot as president,” Belle offered in her defense. “She nominated my rose garden for the American Residential Botanical Award, after all.”

“Oh, shut up, Belle!” Billie yelled. “Your rose beds and topiaries cost even more than Lottie’s garden. A six-way split works out to your advantage almost as much as it does for Lottie. Sug and Hugo and I are the ones getting robbed!”

“Honestly, Billie, you’re the one who’s being unreasonable. It’s not my fault, or Belle’s, that you wanted mother-in-law’s tongue and devil’s pothos all over your yard, or that Sug chose a less labor-intensive rock garden. As for Hugo, he’s actually profiting from his vegetable garden. He eats what he grows.”

“So do you, Lottie,” Hugo said. “Or have you forgotten the other privilege you wrote into your new contract, the one where you get to collect twenty percent of what each Association garden produces?”

Hugo’s announcement began a chorus of disbelieving voices.

“What?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Is he serious?”

“She wouldn’t dare!”

Lottie held up her hands. “Calm down, everyone. Calm down.”

“You could take twenty percent of my award-winning roses?” Belle asked, her blue eyes wide in horror.

“Or twenty-percent of my Delilah irises?” Desiree demanded.

“You can have twenty percent of my gravel bed,” Sug said. “I don’t care.”

“I’m not interested in anyone else’s garden,” Lottie said.

“Other than Hugo’s tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, carrots…” Billie interjected.

“Okay, enough of this, ladies and gentlemen,” Victor said. “Obviously, you people have a lot to discuss with your president, and I wish you had time for it. I certainly don’t. Please pay me what I’m owed, and you can continue your squabble over who pays what share.”

“Let’s vote on it,” Lottie said.

Belle looked confused. “Vote on what?”

Lottie grinned. “All in favor of paying Victor now and re-distributing individual contributions, raise your hands.”

“I move that each Association member pays his or her own itemized bill,” Desiree suggested.

Clearly annoyed, Lottie said, “That’s another way to do it, certainly.”

“But you still get your work and materials for free?” Billie said.

“Of course,” Lottie replied. “I’m Association president.”

“All in favor of my motion!” Desiree announced.

“Fine,” Billie snapped.

“Whatever,” Sug shrugged indifferently.

“I guess so,” Belle agreed dully.

“I abstain, as this vote does not affect me or my garden,” Lottie said, a note of triumph in her voice.

“Hugo, how do you vote?” Desiree asked.

Hugo, his eyes glazed, chocolate coating his chin, didn’t move.

“Mr. Broadside,” she said, giving him a nudge. “It’s your turn to vo—”

“Hugo, wake up and finish that éclair in your hand,” Belle said loudly.

Billie peered closer at him. “He’s so pale. I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

Belle gasped. “He’s not eating. He’s not moving. He’s not
breathing
!”

The actors froze in position, six of them leaning over the man playing Hugo, while the spot returned to the Narrator.

“The 182nd Sunnyside Beautification Association meeting has taken a tragic turn with the untimely death of Mr. Hugo Broadside,” he said as the actor playing Hugo solemnly exited stage right. “It took a team of four emergency services technicians close to an hour to load Mr. Broadside’s cold carcass onto a gurney as wide as a full-sized mattress. But the lone medical examiner who pronounced Hugo’s demise spent only a few minutes determining that Mr. Broadside’s death wasn’t the result of natural causes related to his weight, or an accident resulting from his overindulging in Belle Dellarosa’s pastries. As the surviving members of the Sunnyside Beautification Association are about to discover, Hugo Broadside was murdered, and right under their noses…”

“Poisoned?” Belle gasped. “Hugo was poisoned?”

“Constantly repeating it won’t change it, Belle,” Lottie nagged. “The coroner said that Hugo showed all the characteristics of a person who had ingested poison. A fast-acting one, by the look of it.”

“He ate twenty-two pastries,” Billie noted. “Maybe he was allergic to the pecan diamonds.” Audience members who had selected pecan diamonds from the platter making the rounds tossed them back. Zander caught Faith’s eye, and it was all Faith could do to keep from laughing.

“There has to be a logical explanation for what happened. I know
I
didn’t poison him,” Billie said.

“Are you implying that one of us did, Billie Green?” Desiree asked testily.

“Of course not.”

“Yes, she is!” the Narrator whispered in a loud aside.

“Well, now that I think about it, I’m sure he didn’t like giving twenty percent of his crops to Lottie,” Billie speculated. “And if he threatened to expose her secret privilege, she might have gotten angry enough to drop something in his water bottle.”

“How dare you accuse me, even indirectly!” Lottie railed. “Hugo and I were friends, neighbors, Association members and business colleagues, and I’d never harm a hair on his head. If I was going to poison anyone, it would be you, Sug, for letting your bamboo choke my hydrangeas.”

“
Our
hydrangeas,” Sug said. “They just happen to live in your yard.”

“And if you’ll recall, Billie, it was Belle who brought Hugo that tainted water,” Lottie said.

“Tainted…!” Belle started indignantly. “Why are you so sure it was the water that killed Hugo?

Only the murderer would know how the poison was administered.”

“We all ate the pastries, and we’re all still here,” Billie said. “Hugo was the only one who drank water.”

“I had a swig of Hugo’s water,” Sug admitted. “I didn’t feel like getting up to get my own bottle. I’m still here, so…so…”

“Uh oh,” interjected the Narrator. “Looks like Sug is about to go.”

“Sug?” Belle pipped.

“Catch him, Victor, he’s sliding off his chair,” Lottie said.

“I think he just passed out from shock,” Desiree said hopefully, helping ease Sug’s bulk to the floor.

“Who passes out with his eyes open?” Billie snorted. “Unless Sug’s too lazy to close his eyes when he faints.”

“Is he dead?” Belle asked, her eyes twin circles of fear.

“Yes,” Victor said, standing.

“You did do it, didn’t you?” Desiree pointed at Lottie. “You killed Sug and you got Hugo, too! You said it yourself, that if you were going to kill anyone, it would be Sug, and now he’s dead!”

“That was just talk and you know it!” Lottie yelled. “I’m not a killer. You ought to be pointing your finger at the person who brought the water.”

“Victor brought the cooler,” Belle said. “He told us it was a promotional item from Hawthorne Custom Cuttings.”

“Victor,” Desiree said, clutching Zander’s arm, “you have to contact Hawthorne Custom Cuttings and tell them that their water has killed two people.”

Victor laughed.

Zander’s laugh was sinister, but it didn’t frighten Faith. She knew that laugh—it belonged to their honors American history teacher.

“Well, I don’t see what’s so funny,” said Billie.

“The water didn’t kill Hugo and Sug,” Victor said. “What was put into it probably did, however.”

The actors, the narrator and everyone in the audience sat in stunned silence.

“Victor…did you…are you saying that you put something in that water?” Lottie asked.

“No,” he calmly stated, “you’re saying it. If this were to ever make it to court, that would be a very fine distinction.”

“B-But Victor, why?” Billie stammered fearfully. “Hugo never did anything to you, and Sug never did anything to anyone.”

Desiree finally put significant distance between herself and Victor. “I can’t believe you killed them. Why?”

“Do you know what I do for a living, Ms. Calor?” Victor asked.

“You’re a gardener, Victor,” Lottie cut in. “Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mrs. Graball, but since you’ve jumped into the middle of this, I’ll answer you. No, it isn’t a trick question. But clearly, you people of Sunnyside have no idea what a gardener does. I tend to life. I make our world more beautiful. And for the past ten years, I’ve watched the Sunnyside Beautification Association do everything in its power to undermine my good works.”

“He’s crazy,” Billie said. “I’m calling the police. You’re going away for a very long time, Victor.”

Victor snickered again, this time giving Faith the chills. “Oh, I’m going away all right. To a gorgeous little island in the South Pacific, Darwin, to be exact. One with no extradition treaty with the United States.”

“But why, Victor?” Belle asked. “Why did you have to kill Hugo and Sug?”

“The Lord is my Shepherd, Belle, but I’ve strayed from the rest of the flock. I’ve done what I believe needed doing. I killed Hugo and Sug for the same reasons that I’ve killed you, and Mrs. Graball, and Ms. Green and Ms. Calor.”

“What?” the actors and the Narrator squawked.

“The poison wasn’t just in the water,” Victor said.

Daiyu, who had been drinking from her Hawthorne Custom Cuttings bottle, sprayed water all over the neck of the person seated in front of her. Faith again met Zander’s gaze, and this time he couldn’t hide an amused smile befitting his role as homicidal maniac.

“I also poisoned the juice you ladies were drinking earlier,” Victor revealed.

Kyla Randall’s performance up to this point had been great, but she showed the subtle mastery of her art through her facial expression as she said, “Tell me this is a joke, Victor. You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? Not after we’ve been friends for so long?”

“I feel just fine,” Billie said stubbornly. “I don’t believe a crazy word of this. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, this meeting is…over…” Her last word fading, Billie went rigid and toppled out of her chair, landing on Sug’s soft carcass.

A startled scream tore from Belle, and members of the audience jumped in their seats. “She’s…Victor, you killed her! You killed
us
!”

“Victor, I’ve got $100,000 in Association funds stashed in an offshore account under a false name,” Lottie said. “It’s yours if you give me the antidote to the poison. I’m sure I don’t have much time left, so—”

“How much do you really have in that secret account?” Victor asked softly.

“I told you. One hundred—”

“Tick tock, Mrs. Graball,” Victor smiled.

“All right, all right! There’s $200,000, and I’ll transfer it all to you, I swear, if you’ll give me the antidote!”

“What about me?” Desiree asked quietly.

“Make your own deals, honey,” Lottie sneered. “What do you say, Victor?”

“Give me the account number and your wire information.”

“Give me the antidote.” Lottie held out her hand.