Chapter 27 Willow
WILLOW
“Poison! They were both poisoned.” I pace around the Jingle Bites Café.
Because he stinks of betrayal and jail, Hughes has been dragged to the RV that belongs to the man his grandmother is sleeping with so he can take a sponge bath. I’m stress-baking cookies.
Poison. Poison. Taylor Grace was poisoned.
The leaves in the kitchen. I can’t help but think of them… and Josie’s bracelet.
“Oh my gosh!” Josie rushes breathlessly into the café. “I just heard. Poison! And everyone says Maris is the culprit.”
“I shouldn’t have just blamed her like that in public. I don’t have watertight evidence.” I fill Josie in while my friend stuffs her face with cookies.
The traitorous part of me whispers, You need to knowwwww.
Josie dunks a cookie into her latte.
“Do you actually think Maris is the murderer, though?”
“Well, someone’s coat had blood on it, not to mention it was difficult to see who was coming and going at the party.”
“But I thought Taylor Grace was poisoned. So if Maris poisoned her, why the blood?” Josie asks.
“Someone tried to frame Hughes. Maris is the most likely suspect, but,” I dive in, “you came a little late. You didn’t happen to see her out at all, did you? Where were you anyway?” I try to ask as casually as possible.
Josie, my oldest and dearest friend, narrows her eyes at me.
I’m sweating.
“Oh my god.” Josie’s mouth drops open. “You think I poisoned Taylor Grace?”
“No!”
“Yes, you do!” she shrieks. “I’m not organized enough to orchestrate a double homicide poisoning.
A shooting, sure, I could handle that. Also, I told you, I was buying a new sweater.
I have a receipt here somewhere. See?” She thumbs through her phone.
It has a cracked screen, though I know Mace just got her a new one. “Ta-da!”
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know why I thought—” I rub my eyes. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had any sleep, thanks to Hughes, and then I found your bracelet.” I pull it out.
“Oh shit. I had no idea I lost that. Whoops! It must have gotten caught on my sweater or something. So crazy. But also, can we talk about the fact that you had sex with Hughes, please? How was it? How big is he? Scale of zucchini to eggplant?” She mimes with her hands. “Did you take any pictures?”
“You’re a married mother.”
“I like to know these things, you know. Keep my thumb on the pulse of the market.” She snort-laughs into her coffee.
“No photos.”
“Next time, then.”
“I don’t know. Do you think he actually likes me?” I chew on my lip.
“Did he go down on you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then he likes you,” Josie says firmly. “I bet he’s thinking about banging you right now.”
“He’s probably thinking about how he got roped into my friend drama, and now he’s being accused of murder. He’s probably getting ready to leave town,” I fret.
“Nah, he’s going to stick around at least another week.” Josie giggles. “Power of the pussy. More than enough time to solve this murder. Get your shit. Let’s go bust this case wide open. Also, bring some cookies. Everyone likes your chocolate chunky Santa cookies.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be here,” I tell Josie as she marches up the steps to Mrs. Locke’s house. “Like, everyone in town is talking about it. Maris must have flown the coop, right?”
“Maybe her granny will know where she went.”
But Mrs. Locke doesn’t open the door. Instead, it’s Maris. Josie and I scream when we see her standing there with a gun.
“Come in,” Maris says after a moment.
“Uhhhhhh.”
“I’m not going to shoot you in the house. My grandmother would kill me. Tea?” she offers, gesturing to the dining room table, where an array of hunting rifles are on display.
Josie and I look at each other. I know we’re both thinking of the poison.
“No, thank you?” I swallow.
“So, uh—” Josie begins.
“So you’re here to accuse me of double homicide.” Maris raises an eyebrow.
The oil rag rubbing against the metal barrel of the rifle sounds sinister.
“Er, well, maybe I misspoke a little bit.” I tap my index fingers together nervously. “I have a lot going on in my life, what with my business partner dying.”
Maris snorts. “Business partner, right. I know how that goes. Taylor Grace made your life miserable, didn’t she?” she asks accusingly. “You have the most to gain from her death.”
“The shop is not profitable. I gain nothing.”
“Except peace of mind.” Josie claps her hands over her mouth.
“Yeah, no shit. Taylor Grace has no object permanence. She’s a big black pit.
I know how it was with her.” Maris sets the gun down.
“You know when it all clicked for me that she was insane and that she was going to drag me down, use me up until I was a shell of myself? One day, she demanded that I get her a personal business credit card, that she felt like I was hiding things from her and I was being controlling and secretive with the money, and she didn’t like having to ask me to buy things for the business.
So I got her a card, and she turned around and racked up fifty K of credit card debt on bullshit, buying stuff for the business, but really it was for herself.
We would have these five-hour-long circular discussions that turned into arguments lasting long into the night, where she’d just say the same thing over and over, just angrier, and act like I was the one ruining her life.
Then she had the gall to drag me in front of a therapist that it turns out she’s having an affair with? ”
“That’s exactly what she did to me.” I have my head in my hands. “I really wish I’d talked to you before getting involved with her.”
“You wouldn’t have believed me. You would have thought I was crazy.
And I was. Because Taylor Grace made me crazy.
” Maris taps the table emphatically. “I know that you’re not happy about the shop.
Fuck the shop. You’re relieved you don’t ever have to deal with her and her insanity ever again. Sorry.” She lets out a breath.
“Sounds like you need a therapist,” Josie quips.
“Fuck Jonah Merriweather,” Maris scowls.
“I’m never going to another therapist. He just enabled her behavior.
It sounds like she was worse with you than me.
” She takes a deep breath. “Look, I admit, I was sneaking into your shop. Can I have my earring back, please?” She holds out a hand.
“I wasn’t trying to frame you. I wanted to help you prove that she had no rights to anything.
I was looking for your files, proof that Taylor Grace was screwing you over like she did me.
I didn’t want to see you blacklisted like I was around town.
I was in there days before Dr. Merriweather’s murder.
You can have the Christmas cops check the security feeds if you don’t believe me. ”
I purse my lips.
“Trust me. I wanted to see Taylor Grace tried in the court of public opinion, not turned into a martyr,” she assured me.
“You had a bloody coat at the holiday party. Hughes saw bloodstains on your sweater.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize till I got home that my coat had blood on it from hunting earlier. Melting snow must have bled it out of the fabric onto my sweater. I’ll go get it,” she offers, standing up. “I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it yet. You can’t wash it because it’s yarn.”
We hear her go to the laundry and rustle around.
“I think I believe her,” Josie mouths to me. “I don’t think she murdered anyone.”
Maris comes back out with the sweater. “Go on and test it. It’s turkey blood. Take it to the cops and have them test it.”
Josie sticks it in a bag.
“But the gun, the shooting!” I protest.
“I like real guns, not toys like your boyfriend carries,” Maris sneers. “Anyway. I don’t suppose the Jingle Bites Café needs any turkey, does it? I have several dead ones in the smoke shack.”
“Minced turkey-meat pastries?” Josie rubs her belly. “Yum!”
“Sure, come by the shop. We’ll talk,” I tell her.
“And,” Josie adds, “if you need a part-time job, I think Willow might be hiring! She just got a boyfriend and won’t have as much time to spend at the Jingle Bites Café.”
“Oh, so you’re fucking the brute.” Maris smirks at my expression. “It’s a big, bright, beautiful world out there without Taylor Grace,” she says as she walks us to the door. “Don’t feel guilty. She got what was coming to her.”
“Dammit, that’s another dead end, then.” I sigh when Maris closes the door after us. “Well, let’s go back to the Christmas market. I need to relieve Rose.”
“You can give me all the dirty deets of kissing Santa Hughes under the Christmas tree.” Josie giggles.
“Ugh, there was a dildo.”
“Girl! I can’t believe I’m just now hearing all this. I’m sorry I was a little MIA earlier, though it did let Hughes get into your Christmas stockings.” She links arms with me. “I got wrapped up in Lydia drama.”
“Oh yeah?” I can’t keep the suspicion out of my voice.
Josie misinterprets it. “I swear I’m not trying to cut you out or anything bad! Lydia just had so much tea to spill about Taylor Grace. I thought maybe I could learn something, since I was, like, a neutral third party, you know?”
“No, no, I’m not mad. I just—I heard Lydia and her husband talking at the Christmas market the night I was locked in the shed,” I whisper. “And I just remembered when you said that.”
Josie’s eyes widen when I recount the conversation. “Yeah, that is suspicious. I know Travis can’t—or couldn’t—stand Taylor Grace and Lydia was tired of her nonsense, but I never thought they’d murder her.”
“We should go see Hughes first.”
“Now who’s trying to bring men between our friendship?” Josie jokes as we head to the Christmas market. “Or are you trying to get out of the play-by-play?”
“I’m not trying to. We will go get all the drinks, but Hughes copied Taylor Grace’s phone, and he has her text messages.”
Josie is speechless for a second. “Damn. Girl, I hope you gave that man a blow job.”