Chapter 31

F rank showed up with Gracie on his shoulder and his tablet in hand a half an hour after we parted company. The time had sped by because I’d been busy making sure I wasn’t imagining things. I let him in.

“All right, tell me what’s going on,” he said.

I exhaled, my nerves pinging like crazy. “I’d rather show you. Sit down.” I shot Harry a look. “Harry, that’s Gracie. Gracie, meet Harry. I hope you two can be friends.”

“Hello, Gracie,” Harry said, sitting up to study this new creature.

She cocked her head to one side. “Harry. Short for Hieronymus. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

I narrowed my eyes at Frank. “Did you tell her his full name?”

“I did,” Frank said, taking a seat on the couch. Gracie stayed on his shoulder. He set his tablet down and rubbed his hands together. “If you’re trying to build suspense, it’s working.”

“Sorry,” I said, smiling. “Just trying to make sure those two get along.”

“They will. They’re programmed to. That’s how they can mix with the general population on board and not get into mischief.”

“Right, I think I knew that. My head is otherwise occupied.” I took a seat in the recliner beside the couch. “Okay, here we go. Computer, dim the lights and play recently downloaded video.”

The lights dimmed, and the screen across from us flickered to life. The video I’d taken at the botanical gardens rolled. It was just rows of dahlias at first, then the interesting part came on.

“There,” I said, pointing. “You see what that is?”

“Computer, pause.” Frank inched forward on the seat, eyes narrowed as if trying to see better, but it was as plain as day.

“Is that … It is, isn’t it?” he said. “That’s the aconitum orbexilum .”

“It is,” I confirmed. We both stared at the plants for a moment, taking in the fact that they were being grown right under everyone’s noses there in the gardens.

“Computer, lights up.” The lights returned, but the picture stayed on the screen.

Frank shook his head. “Well done, Els.”

“Thanks. There’s more.” I grabbed my tablet off the coffee table and moved to sit next to him. I pulled up the Athos staff page, scrolled to the photo I needed him to see. I tapped on the picture of the brunette in question. “Look. That’s Howard Yardley Jr.’s wife.”

He nodded. “Young and pretty.”

“Not so much anymore. I don’t know when that picture was taken, but she doesn’t look like that now. In fact, she’s gained a few pounds, aged rather significantly, cut her hair, wears glasses, and is now grayer than I am.”

He looked at me. His gaze lit with recognition. “You’re not saying the woman at the gardens?—”

“I’m saying exactly that.”

“Her name patch said Clayton.”

“I can explain why Gina Yardley was wearing someone else’s jumpsuit. At least I think I can.” I scrolled further down the page and came to a black-and-white photo. As in the case of Andrew Woolsey’s picture, the black-and-white was used to symbolize a staff member no longer working on the Athos for a variety of reasons. “This is John Clayton. He was on the gardens’ staff until Morphae, where he left to join a research group planetside. You know how it is with jumpsuits. They get handed down or traded. She was clearly just wearing one of his that she hadn’t changed out the name patch on. That’s why the jumpsuit was rolled up at the wrists and ankles.”

Frank let out a breath. “You’re good at this.”

I shrugged like it was nothing, but I was smiling. “Thanks. Oh, but there’s more. This is purely speculation, because I don’t have any proof yet, but I think Gina and Andrew were having an affair, and I think that’s why Gina grew those plants for him. No idea if he was using her for access to the gardens or if he really felt something for her, but that’s what I believe was going on.”

“Based on?”

“Gina told us she was making perfume from the lilies. And Kelle Watts, who works in the laundry with Zanya, said for the last couple of months, Andrew’s sheets smelled of floral perfume. Possibly lilies.” I held my hands up. “I know it’s circumstantial, but the pieces fit.”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “They do.” He thought for a moment. “You think she’s the murderer, then?”

“I don’t know. Could be. If she found out he was seeing Sarah? But then why keep those plants? They link her to Andrew. Why not rip them out and compost them? Or whatever you do with potentially poisonous organic matter.”

“I was thinking that, too. If she was guilty, why not get rid of the one thing that ties her to the victim? Makes no sense.”

I set the tablet on the coffee table and leaned back. “There’s no evidence of her being in his quarters that night, either.” I frowned. “There’s no evidence of anyone being in his quarters that night except for me.”

The soft snick of the vuum slot opening was followed by a vuum shuttling into my apartment. It started its cleaning grid.

I looked at Frank. “I need something chocolate. Maybe a mocha decaf to go with it. You want one?”

“I’ll take a regular decaf.” He touched my arm. “Don’t feel discouraged. This is valuable information.”

“Thanks.” I got up. “But we’re still no closer to figuring out who actually killed him and clearing my name.”

“We’ll get there.”

“I hope so.” I wasn’t feeling very certain about that. Despite his admonition, I was discouraged. I really thought I was on to something with the discovery in the botanical gardens, which I had been, I guess, but once again, we were at a dead end. Where did this new information take us?

Nowhere clear.

I went to the Instachef and punched in the request for two decafs, one mocha, one regular, then opened the cabinet to see what kind of chocolate I was going to have. I snagged a box of standard chocolate chip cookies from the commissary. Nothing special, but I didn’t feel like I deserved anything better.

I waited for the drinks, then carried them to the coffee table, leaving the cookies on the dining table, which really needed to be tidied up. I should have put my knitting bag away. Some of my supplies were still sitting there from this morning. No one really needed that many stitch markers, did they?

“Thanks,” Frank said. “Reminds me. I can bring you a canister of my coffee for your Instachef, if you’d like. I can install it for you, too.”

“Really?” His coffee was significantly better than the standard stuff, but it was probably very expensive. I didn’t want him to think I was using him for better beverage options.

“I’d be happy to.”

“I can pay you.”

“I know you can, but that wouldn’t make it much of a gift, would it?”

I smiled. “You’re very sweet to me. Thank you. Let me grab the cookies, and maybe we can figure out what to do next.”

He picked up his coffee. “Sounds good.”

I turned to get the box. The vuum had finished in the foyer and was making its way into the living area. The little robotic vacuum made a right, went straight toward the dining table, and ran into one of the legs.

I shook my head. That happened all the time. Good thing they had foam bumpers.

A single stitch marker, a loop of oatmeal-colored yarn, fell off the table and onto the floor. The vuum, which had backed up, ran over it on the next pass, sucking it up.

I stared, frozen for a second. In that next second, all the puzzle pieces suddenly fit. Everything I’d seen, everything I’d heard, everything I’d read.

I blinked, the craziness of it so impossible it had to be real. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Frank asked.

I looked over my shoulder. “The vuum. It knocked one of my stitch markers off the table, then it swallowed it.” Then, to myself, I whispered, “He breathed it in.”

Frank frowned. “Do you want me to try to get the marker out? I can, but the internal blades usually do a number on whatever they take in. It’s to keep them from jamming.”

I shook my head. “No, it was just yarn, but that’s not the point.” I inhaled, the air shuddering into my lungs. “The point is, I know what happened.”

“How what happened?”

“How Andrew Woolsey died.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.