Chapter Ten
PALYTOXIN. THAT’S WHAT SHOWED UP ON THE LAB REPORT.
Two days ago, while Archer was getting acquainted with a leather thong, the courier had taken a sample of wine from Archer’s outbox down to the FBI’s lab for testing.
For two days, Cordelia had been checking the results hourly, worried that Archer would be clued in to the results before she could get to them.
And now she could breathe a sigh of relief.
She punched in the code to have the results wiped from the system and the sample destroyed.
He would never know she’d used him to find out what had killed his daddy.
Her insides squirmed as she thought about how she’d left him. Thus far, she’d avoided going into town. She wasn’t looking forward to the day when their paths would inevitably cross again. She could only hope he’d be too embarrassed to mention it, though that was unlikely.
“Palytoxin?” Daisy scratched her head and the whole of her hair moved with the motion. It was only then that Cordelia realized she must’ve been wearing a wig. “I’m not sure what that is, but that don’t make no sense. The whole town is saying arsenic.”
“The pastor might’ve had arsenic in his system from who knows what, but the palytoxin is what killed him.
” Belinda Sue’s nose scrunched as she brought her tablet close to her face, then moved it away again.
Trying to find that perfect balance between her near- and farsightedness.
“Nasty business, this palytoxin. Can only be found on certain soft corals that grow in saltwater. You can’t buy this stuff on the eBay. Poisoning can mimic a heart attack.”
“Why didn’t they find that on his toxicology report?” Cordelia asked. The results of the autopsy were top-secret police business, so, naturally, the whole town knew.
“They probably weren’t looking for it,” Belinda Sue said. “Arsenic is a much more common poison. They might’ve seen that and quit digging. But make no mistake, the palytoxin in that wine is what ultimately did him in.”
“And we’re the only ones who know it,” Daisy said.
“Should we tell the sheriff’s office?” Cordelia asked. When the three of them looked at her like she had too many cobwebs in her attic, she held her hands out. “I’m not saying we point the finger at ourselves, but we could call in an anonymous tip.”
Belinda Sue shook her head hard enough to crack a nut. “Nope. Out of the question. If we bring up palytoxin in any way, shape, or form, it’s only a matter of time before they link that poison back to the wine he drank in Daisy’s room.”
“I don’t want to go to prison, Miss Cordelia.” Daisy’s timid plea sealed it.
“Fine.” Cordelia crossed her arms. “It was just an idea. I’m not sure if we’re equipped to solve a murder.”
“Two weeks ago you weren’t sure if you were equipped to be a madam,” Belinda Sue said. “But look at you now.”
This did not set Cordelia’s mind at ease, given that she still didn’t consider herself a madam. She longed for the days when she thought the worst thing she’d have to do was chase an unruly client off the property with a shotgun.
“Any ideas on how we go about solving this?” Daisy pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her hot pants. “Should we add more people to our suspect list?”
Belinda Sue smacked her palms together. “Well, would you look at that? Daisy is turning out to be a regular Sherlock.”
“We ought to do research first,” Cordelia said. “We need to know more about this palytoxin and where it might be found here in Texas. Anyone up for a trip to the library?”
The sky turned the color of a fresh bruise, and the clouds bloated with much-needed rain. The air snapped with the scent of copper and wet rock. Cordelia couldn’t help but think it was a sign of things to come, even if she wasn’t prone to believing in such nonsense.
Belinda Sue didn’t want to be left out of the fun this time around, so only Arline stayed behind while the rest of them piled into Cordelia’s car.
They stopped to get gas on the way into town.
The pimple-faced kid behind the counter, who couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, wagged his eyebrows at her.
“I didn’t realize the Chickadee had younger ladies now.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he made change for her twenty. “Might have to stop by sometime.”
“I wouldn’t mess with this one, son. She’s got a real mean streak.
” At the sound of Archer’s rough-road, biscuits-and-honey voice, she wanted to collapse in on herself like a dying star.
She hadn’t seen him since she slipped out of his office, and hoped she could go on avoiding him until the end of her days.
“Rumor has it she likes to string young men up by their toes and laugh at their genitals.”
The tips of the boy’s ears turned red. “That can’t be true.”
“I’m afraid it is,” Cordelia said. “You should’ve seen how much I laughed at Mr. Archer Reed-Smythe just last week. He’s got the funniest little—”
“All right now, that’s enough.” Archer slung an arm over her shoulder and covered her mouth with his hand. “Don’t go scarring the boy before he’s old enough to have his first drink.”
He maneuvered her toward the door, and she bit his palm the minute they stepped outside. Shoving out of his embrace, she whirled on him. “I wasn’t finished making my transaction.”
Archer loomed over her, his shadow casting a long line of shade across the boiling asphalt. “I think you were more than finished in there.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” Cordelia would’ve stomped her foot on his boot if she wasn’t certain he was wearing steel toes. “Why don’t you just go on and mind your own business? We don’t have any reason to cross paths.”
“You know that’s not true.” He leaned in closer, and the piney scent of his aftershave made her breath hitch.
“I think you at least owe me an explanation of why you skipped out on me the other night. Do you have any idea how much I had to pay the courier to keep the sight of me in a leather banana hammock to himself?”
Cordelia laughed, realizing a second too late that was the wrong move, when his expression turned blacker than the clouds moving in from the horizon. The sky rumbled overhead just for good measure. She cleared her throat. “Looks like a storm is moving in.”
“A storm’s coming, all right.” His grim expression had her backing up a step. The amusement that normally twinkled in his eyes had guttered. “You’ve really got nothing to say for yourself?”
“I changed my mind.” She lifted her chin. “Don’t tell me that was your first time experiencing a woman saying no to you.”
The twitch of his mustache suggested it might’ve been, but he lifted a finger.
“I’ve got no problem with the word ‘no.’ And I knew from the get-go that you were likely messing with me.
What I have a problem with is squeezing into a costume you insisted on, then you not even having the courtesy to tell me you were leaving. ”
“You survived.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Cordelia’s momma didn’t hand out practical advice very often, but she was fond of saying a person could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Taking a deep and calming breath, she schooled her features to look less confrontational. “I’m sorry.”
Those two words cost her about a pound of pride, but it was the right thing to do.
She’d been using Archer. He’d known it, but he hadn’t known she would leave him high and dry.
Something about him just made her want to argue.
No one else brought out that side of her, not even her momma when she’d fallen off the wagon for the sixth time in a year after endless promises to quit drinking.
“Sorry for leaving?” A spark of mischief lit his eyes. “Or sorry you missed the show?”
Heat rose to Cordelia’s cheeks. “Maybe a bit of both.”
He shook his head, his gaze dipping to her lips. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Nothing I’d be interested in.”
“We’ll see about that.” He wrenched his eyes away from her mouth, tipped his hat, and strolled away, just as casual as could be.
As soon as he turned his back, Cordelia had a strong urge to say something mean, just to light that fire under him again.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t do confrontation, but Archer was just .
. . walking away. Minding his business, like she asked.
So why did it make her feel like she’d ruined something she never knew she wanted?
Cordelia slid into the driver’s side, half dazed. Daisy poked her head between the seats from her spot in the back. “What was that all about with Archer?”
Cordelia started her car. “He just wanted to clear the air, is all.”
“He doesn’t know about us using his passwords for the lab, does he?” Belinda Sue asked.
“No, he didn’t mention it.” Cordelia drove off, doing her best to keep her eyes straight ahead and not let them trail to where Archer still sat in his truck in the parking lot.
An unease followed her into town, thicker than the incoming storm, which promised to be a doozy.
An ache on her heart that pulsed below the surface, like a sore tooth that hadn’t fully healed.
It must’ve been the weather bringing down her mood.
She refused to pin any of her current feelings on Archer Reed-Smythe.
By the time they arrived at the library, the sky had opened up. Sheets of hard summer rain sizzled as they hit the sun-soaked sidewalk. Daisy and Belinda Sue hollered when rain pelted their wigs and made the synthetic strands melt from their heads like cheap wax.
From underneath the awning, Daisy shivered as she tried to pile her wet beehive into a respectable twist, but there was no saving it. She looked like a drowned rat with bright red lips and too much rouge.
“I’m not going in there looking like this.” Her mouth hardened into a stubborn frown. “Call it vanity if you like, but lookin’ good is my business and I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“Who’s going to see you?” Cordelia asked.