Breathing Space (Ellis McFadden Mysteries #1)

Chapter 18

“ N o, it’s fine. I’m not discounting what I felt, but it might not have been based in anything. He just threw me, is all. I was alone in the library, I hadn’t heard him come in, and he startled me.” I did not want to create a problem where, potentially, there was none.

“Still don’t like it. I don’t like you feeling threatened. Especially not because of something I might have caused.” Frank frowned. “I’m very sorry, Els.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” His words touched me all the same. “Scotty was visibly upset. I’m sure that’s all it was.”

“Maybe. But you shouldn’t have borne the brunt of that.”

I gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t. I don’t like that he showed up like that. That he knew you were involved. How did that happen?”

“I guess it was like he said. The ASF had told him about me, but I didn’t think they’d do that. Apparently, I was wrong. That’s the only reason I asked you if you’d mentioned me to him. But it seems they really were responsible, unless he somehow heard it through the blessed grapevine that grows rampant throughout this ship.”

“Even so, it had to start with ASF, because no one else knew.” Frank sat back, his expression stern.

“Not entirely true. I told Itzak. He’s one of the other librarians. I thought it would spread through the ship like wildfire, and I figured it was better he hear it from me than from someone spreading gossip. I don’t think Itzak’s behind Scotty knowing, but anything’s possible. Doesn’t seem to me that they’d run in the same circles.”

“Not to me, either. More likely the ASF told him.” Frank straightened his knife. “If so, that’s lousy policing, if you ask me. They knowingly put you in danger.”

I couldn’t argue with that, because if they were responsible, that was exactly what they’d done.

“I’m going to say something to Captain Bell. He needs to know what his officers are doing.”

Of course, Frank knew Captain Angus Bell. He knew everyone. “Please don’t get Officer Lu in trouble. The man already doesn’t like me. If word gets back to him that I said something, it’ll only complicate matters.”

Frank sighed. “This whole thing needs to be tied up already. Enough is enough. How can they not have found something out by now? Something that tells them who’s really responsible?”

“Well …”

A server brought us two glasses of sparkling water, dropped them off, and left, but our server, Robinson, was right behind him. “Have you folks decided, or do you need a few more minutes?”

“I think we know,” Frank said, looking at me.

I nodded. “The specials, right?”

“Which ones do you like the most?” Frank asked. “The pizza for sure, right?”

“Definitely. And the spaghetti? Although the eggplant Parmesan sounded great, too.”

Frank handed Robinson the menus. “Bring us all three of the specials and plates so we can share.”

“Smart man,” Robinson said.

I laughed. “That’s a lot of food, Frank.” I liked his style, though.

“Don’t worry,” Robinson said. “They all make great leftovers. I’ll put those orders in right away.”

As he left, Frank reached his hand across the table toward mine. I took it, enjoying the rough warmth of his touch. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “That was a little impulsive, I suppose. Not my usual style of decision-making, I assure you. But I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m already enjoying myself.”

“So am I.” He glanced around. “What do you think of this place?”

“I like it. A lot. For the first time in a long time, outside of being on one of the holodecks, I don’t feel like I’m on a starliner. I feel like…”

“You’re back on Earth?”

“Yeah, I do. That’s all right to say, isn’t it? I love my life on the Athos , but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the life I used to have once in a while. Not enough to make me regret this, but, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”

“No, I get it. I feel that way, too. This is an exciting life, but it didn’t happen without giving some things up.”

“Yes.” I nodded. I understood exactly what he was saying. “What did you give up?”

“Trail running. Fishing. All that kind of outdoor stuff that can only be done in simulation now. Or if we get a longer stay at a planet, which we will when we reach Kem.”

“True.” Kem would be a three-day stay because we’d be taking on supplies. “That reminds me—I talked to Sarah Fenchurch today.”

“What did she have to say?”

I filled him in on our conversation, including her request for another copy of the book and my agreement to provide her with one.

“Are you really going to print a second?”

“I started the process this afternoon, and I’ll tell you why. It’s my best chance at getting my hands on the book since the ASF are in no hurry to get the first one back to me. I haven’t told Sarah yet, though, because I want some time with the book.”

“You’re not going to translate all that Latin, are you?”

“I’m not. But the computer is. Before I give the physical copy to her, I’m going to scan the book in, digitize it, and run it through the translator. Then we’ll have a copy and maybe we can figure out what Andrew was after.”

He leaned forward. “Beautiful and brilliant. You’re quite a catch, Ellis McFadden.”

I liked to think I was immune to such flattery. I wasn’t. I laughed softly. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“Just being truthful. How have we been on the same starliner for nine months and are just now getting to know each other?”

“Beats me.” I sipped my sparkling water. It was very good.

“Any luck with the plant sample?”

“Not yet. It was still searching when I left. Could take a while. And I have a feeling whatever results it returns won’t be definitive. It’ll probably come back with a handful. The winnowing down will be up to me.”

“I’m willing to help. We could take an evening and do it.”

“All right. That would be good.”

“Many hands make light work, right? Although that really depends on what kind of work you’re doing to begin with.”

“Right. Oh! I was about to tell you something else, then we ordered, and I lost my train of thought.” I leaned in. “What I’m about to tell you has to be considered top secret. You can’t tell another soul, and if you do and you say you got this information from me, I will deny it till the day I die.”

He chuckled. “I get it, keep schtum.”

“Right.” I took a breath. “Andrew was poisoned.”

“What?” Frank’s thick brows knit together. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Well, there wasn’t any blood on the bed or anywhere else in his quarters. At least I didn’t see any when I was looking for Harry.”

“Are you sure this information came from a reliable source?”

“I’d stake my reputation on it. Not a single doubt.” There’s no way Hazel would make something like that up.

He sat back slowly. “How about that. So he was murdered.”

“That’s what I said when I heard.”

Robinson returned with two small wooden bowls. “Here are your house salads. The rest of your food will be up shortly.”

“Thank you.” I picked up my fork. Frank looked underwhelmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Salad is what the food I eat eats.”

I snorted. “Want to know a secret? I’m not especially fond of veggies, either. But it’s just a little salad. It won’t hurt you.”

He seemed unconvinced but lifted his fork anyway. “What do you think our next step is? Focusing on the book? Trying to identify that plant?”

“I guess.” I ate a bite of salad. The dressing had an herby, lemony tang that was delicious. “I mean, if we’re talking poison, either the book or the plant could be important. Or neither. It could be some other kind of toxin entirely.”

“Any chance you can find out what kind of poison?”

“Maybe. But it’s not something I can count on.” Hazel didn’t always think the mother-daughter relationship should entail the same privileges I did.

A curious gleam lit Frank’s eyes. “There’s one way we could get the information we need. But it’s not exactly what you’d call legal .”

I almost choked on half of a cherry tomato, which was delicious. “What are you talking about?”

He glanced around, but there was no one in the vicinity. “As you might have figured out, I’m adept with computers. With a little … digging , it should be possible to have a peek at that coroner’s report.”

I knew exactly what he meant. I stared at him. “You’d really do that for me?” I shook my head immediately after the words left my mouth. “No, I can’t ask you to do that. You could get into a lot of trouble.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Semantics. It’s still too dangerous.”

Smirking, he stabbed an olive. “How do you know Danger isn’t my middle name?”

I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself. “Frank, it’s one thing for you to help me. It’s another for you to become an accessory to this.”

“An accessory? You’re talking like you’re responsible for his death.” His eyes narrowed. “Anything else you want to share?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “No. But you know what I mean. I don’t want to bring you down with me. Not that I plan on going down for this, because I’m completely innocent.” I sighed. “I never should have delivered that stupid book.”

“But how will you prove your innocence if you don’t have help?”

“I … don’t know.” I exhaled. He made a good point.

“It’s a bad situation. The sooner we can figure out who really did it, the sooner this will be over, and you’ll be off their radar.”

Hesitantly, I nodded. “I just don’t want to be the reason anything bad happens to you.”

“I appreciate that. And I don’t want my inaction to be the reason something bad happens to you. Not when I could have done something. After dinner, we’ll go back to my place, if that’s all right with you? And we’ll see what further information we can find.”

This time, I was the one who reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”

“You just need to know that?—”

Robinson’s impeccable timing brought him and another waiter back to our table, laden with plates, both full and empty. “Dinner is served.”

I let go of Frank’s hand. The pizza went in the center of the table, an empty plate went in front of each of us, then the dishes of eggplant Parmesan and the spaghetti were added, along with a small bowl of freshly grated Parmesan with its own spoon. It was a ridiculous amount of food. My joy knew no bounds. It smelled like we’d died and gone to Italian heaven.

The second server took our salad bowls when he left. Robinson stepped back. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Frank glanced at me. I shook my head, and then he shook his. “We’re good. Although I see us needing to-go boxes before too long.”

Robinson smiled. “Whenever you’re ready. Enjoy.” He left us.

“Help yourself,” Frank said to me. “Take whatever you’d like.”

The kitchen, or maybe it was Robinson, had been kind enough to include a serving-size fork and spoon. I used those to add a portion of spaghetti to my plate while Frank put a slice of pizza on his.

“You want one?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

He slipped a triangle of pizza onto my plate, then picked up his plate and held it out to me. “Will you give me some of that spaghetti?”

“Sure.” I served him, then did the same with the eggplant Parmesan.

We both sprinkled a little more cheese on everything, then started eating. The sounds of pleasure that followed came from both of us.

I swallowed the bite of spaghetti I’d just taken. “I know those tomatoes weren’t grown in the sun, but I swear I could taste the sunshine in them. It’s so much better than the canned stuff we’ve been having.”

Frank nodded. “I hear you. It’s all so fresh and good. And different. We were really due for some new produce.”

“I understand they’re finally getting a better yield and producing enough to preserve some of the produce. Hopefully, it’ll taste this good, because I would love to have this again.”

“I’m glad to hear about the better yields. Means things are in full operational mode and that all the tech is working according to plan. That’s a big deal on a ship like this.”

I nodded, thinking back to the first round of crops that had only produced enough to last four days after the final harvest.

As if he was reading my mind, Frank muttered, “If I ever have to eat lentil loaf again, it’s probably because I’m in prison.”

I laughed. “Not a fan, huh?”

“I don’t know how anyone eats that stuff voluntarily. I only had it once, and that was just to satisfy my own morbid curiosity.”

“I agree, but my friend Vashti eats it all the time. She’s a vegetarian.”

“Good for her. Less lentil loaf for us that way.” He bit off the point of his pizza slice. “What does she do on board?”

“She’s a doctor in the main sick bay. The stories she tells—no names, though. She never uses names.”

He wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Are you good friends?"

“Yes. Why?”

“Because we might need some help with this poison business. Wouldn’t hurt to know what’s readily available on the ship. I can tell you what’s in engineering, but those are pretty toxic solutions. The kinds of things that would have left a messy corpse.”

“But I didn’t see Andrew’s body. I didn’t even know he was there.”

“So you didn’t smell anything strange, either?”

I thought back. “Just a slightly sweet, floral fragrance, which I’m sure was whatever air freshener he used or maybe his own aftershave? I never got close enough to him to smell it.”

Frank went to work on the eggplant Parmesan. “Nothing like almonds? Or garlic?”

“I doubt cyanide is available on board, but what poison smells like garlic?”

“Arsine. It’s a gas that occurs when arsenic is exposed to acid.”

“While that’s super interesting, I don’t think we have arsenic on board, either.”

“No, probably not. But I know we have ethylene glycol.”

“We do?” I looked up from my spaghetti. “What is it, and why do we have it?”

“It’s essentially antifreeze, and it’s how we keep the pipes and circuitry closest to the ship’s exterior from seizing up under extreme cold.”

I blinked. There was more poison on this ship than I’d realized.