Chapter Fifteen
CORDELIA PULLED UP TO THE CHICKADEE, ROCKS PINGING OFF HER tires as she squealed to a stop behind the sheriff. She expected to see Daisy being led away in handcuffs, but what she came upon instead was a scene straight out of Copacabana.
Sheriff Maynard had his boots propped up on a beach recliner, enjoying a dollar-store version of a tequila sunrise, poured for him by Daisy.
His deputy sat in another recliner, enjoying a similar treatment from Belinda Sue.
Except she made him balance his glass on his head, like an end table, before she’d let him have a drink.
Hot air blew in from the wide plains, kicking up dust and gently lapping the clear pool water. The sheriff rested a hand on his stomach, patting it in the way only a fully satisfied man could as he grinned at Daisy, who swarmed and coddled him like a salesman at a used-car lot.
“Cordelia.” Daisy jumped off the sheriff’s lap and came rushing to the gate. “You’re back. What took so long? Where are your groceries?”
“I didn’t get around to getting them. . . .” Cordelia trailed off, distracted by the thoughts of arrest and ruin still buzzing in her mind. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh.” Daisy brightened, like the sheriff’s presence was a good thing.
Of course, she didn’t yet know how he’d pulled Cordelia over earlier and not-so-subtly threatened her.
“The sheriff got some kind of silly tip about us having arsenic on the property. We let him have a look around and he didn’t find anything, so we offered him a drink and a little break before he had to get back to work.
We’re in the hospitality business, after all. ”
Cordelia lowered her voice. “Are you sure Great-Aunt Penelope didn’t keep arsenic on hand? Just in case rodents wandered in from the brush?”
“Nah.” Daisy waved a hand, dismissing her. “The only thing that ever wanders in here from the brush is a random snake, but we also happen to be in the business of handling those.”
Daisy snorted at her own joke, and Cordelia shook her head. All that fuss for nothing. She’d torn out of town like a bat out of hell, left Archer hanging on his dinner invitation, and for what? To watch the chicks play nursemaids to the Keystone Cops of Sarsaparilla Falls?
“Shouldn’t they be moving along?” Cordelia asked. “Considering they’ve got a real murderer to catch and they’re not going to find him out here?”
“There’s nothing wrong with making the sheriff feel welcome at an establishment that’s not altogether legal,” Daisy said out of the corner of her mouth. “If you can’t play nice, you should just let the rest of us handle this one.”
Cordelia had never been scolded by Daisy before, and she had to admit that it didn’t sit right with her.
Plus, Cordelia couldn’t argue with the fact that Daisy was right about the sheriff.
The Chickadee wasn’t a strictly legal operation, and it didn’t hurt to help the lawmen in town see the value of it anyway.
“You’re right,” Cordelia said. “I’m just in a mood. Had a bad run-in with Edna at the H-E-B, and another one with Honey outside Archer’s office.”
“Edna thought she was being slick by going to the local paper. She’s so rotten, salt couldn’t save her.” Daisy gave Cordelia a mischievous glance. “I heard you put her in her place though. And got escorted out of the store by Archer.”
“Gossip sure does travel fast,” Cordelia muttered.
“Sweetie, this is Sarsaparilla Falls. Not even the wind can move as fast as small-town gossip.” She looped her arm through Cordelia’s. “What did Honey Stevens want? I’m assuming she was hanging all over Archer like cockleburs on a mule.”
“She’s the one who told me the sheriff was heading out here to make arrests.”
Daisy snorted. “Of course she did. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d called that tip in herself. She’s the kind of woman who’d eat up that half-cocked lie Edna fed the papers.”
“Could be.”
Cordelia didn’t elaborate because she knew how quick Daisy was to latch on to Honey as a suspect, but it felt more like Honey had been throwing personal barbs outside Archer’s office rather than just being her usual unpleasant self.
As if she wanted to get one over on Cordelia, and possibly anyone associated with the Chickadee in general.
It was something she’d have to think on later, when she had time to catalog the entire interaction and piece together why it felt so off.
“The boys are about to leave,” Daisy said. “Why don’t you join us for cocktail hour?”
Cordelia patted her arm. “Why not? I can always go grocery shopping tomorrow.”
Cordelia didn’t recognize this free-wheeling version of herself who put off chores for poolside gossip, but she liked who she was becoming.
Maybe this was who she could’ve been if she and her momma had been taken in by Great-Aunt Penelope when they were low.
Or maybe she wasn’t ready to embrace this side of herself until she’d done things the opposite way first. Either way, for the first time in her life, Cordelia was beginning to understand what it felt like to be comfortable in her own skin, and there was something very freeing in that.
Cordelia stepped into the Sarsaparilla Falls library and waved to Martina, someone she’d come to admire and respect.
It wasn’t easy being a librarian in a small Texas town that had more backward thinkers than you could shake a stick at, but she handled the role with grace and class.
The more visits Cordelia made to the library, the friendlier they became.
It had been a long time since Cordelia had gone out of her way to make friends, and it filled an emptiness in her that had been so hollow she hadn’t even known something was missing.
The familiar scent of ink on paper and a hint of carpet cleaner still brought her comfort, but it no longer felt like a part of her.
Now, when she thought about the scents that made up her world, it was Love’s Baby Soft and cheap tequila.
Heavy musk perfume and makeup palettes. She was living on borrowed pizazz and redefining the word “home” for herself.
The sheriff hadn’t made any arrests in the last few days, but he’d also stopped tailing Cordelia around town, so she considered that a win.
Since the H-E-B incident with Edna, the town had taken up sides, with most of them falling on the side of the Chickadee due to all the goodwill they’d built up over the years, and on account of Edna’s sour disposition.
She wasn’t an easy woman to like. But business hadn’t picked back up yet.
The men in town might’ve claimed they weren’t chickens, but they had their henhouse ways.
Added to that, Edna had a mean streak, and she didn’t like being bested by a bunch of women she thought were so far beneath her, they had to look up to see hell.
Which meant she’d strike again, unless Cordelia could wrap up this investigation first and knock out the only leg she had to stand on right from underneath her.
Cordelia sat down at one of the computers near the back of the room and booted it to life.
Belinda Sue had a tablet, but the fewer suspicious searches that showed up on her browser history, the better it was for all of them.
The wine had been their best lead, but it wasn’t the only one.
They could still try to track down the palytoxin.
“You have a real interest in coral, huh?” Cordelia jumped at the sound of Martina’s voice, biting the inside of her cheek and drawing blood.
“It’s something I’m thinking about getting into.” Cordelia closed her tabs with a shaky hand, grateful she hadn’t been looking up anything more incriminating than nearby pet stores that dealt in tropical saltwater aquariums.
“You should ask the hospital where they get their supplies from,” Martina said. “They’re not exactly in town like you asked before, but they’ve got a huge tank in their lobby, all kinds of seahorses and anemones and whatnot in there.”
“The hospital . . .” A prickling sensation tickled the back of Cordelia’s neck. Like all the synapses in her brain were firing at once. “The one between here and Three Oaks?”
“Sure.” Martina gave her a funny look. “It’s the only hospital you’re going to find around here for at least fifty miles in either direction.”
The hospital where Honey Stevens worked. Cordelia leaped to her feet so fast, Martina took a step back to avoid getting hit with the chair. “Thank you so much.” Cordelia pumped her hand, much to Martina’s bemusement. “You have no idea how helpful this has been.”
Cordelia rushed out of the library faster than a scalded cat, not even bothering to reshelve the books, which definitely wasn’t like her.
But if she could wrap this murder up by the end of the day, then she could get on with figuring what her new normal would look like and decide if she even wanted to go back to Dallas.
She took the steps at such a brisk pace, she didn’t see Archer until she was nearly chest to chest with him on the sidewalk. “Oh.” She halted, her bones rattling from the vibration of her sudden stop. “Hi. How are you?”
That could not be any more awkward. She hadn’t spoken to Archer since she lit out of his office parking lot.
Since he’d asked her on a date and almost kissed her.
Then nothing. He hadn’t stopped by or made any move to seek her out, and she wondered if he’d changed his mind about her, seeing as she’d ditched him twice now without a goodbye.
“I’m fine.” The glint in his dark eyes held a note of teasing. “And you?”
“Fine. You know.” She brushed her hands down her neat A-line skirt. “Staying busy.”
“I hadn’t heard about the sheriff making any arrests out at the Chickadee, so I assume all is well out there?” His mustache twitched, and she wondered why he always had to look at her like he was on the verge of laughing. Did he really find her that funny?
“Yes. Well. It turns out he had a nice time by the pool after he searched the property and didn’t find any arsenic. So. It appears the investigation has moved in another direction.”
“That’s good. Glad to hear it.”
“Are you?” If she’d had a wad of cotton in her hand, she would’ve stuffed it in her mouth just to shut herself up.
What was it about Archer that got her tail up?
One minute she was thinking about kissing him, the next she was thinking about shaving his mustache in his sleep just to get a reaction out of him. It was enough to tie her up in knots.
His brows pinched. “Of course I am. You can’t honestly think I want my inappropriate auntie to be responsible for my father’s death?”
“No. I suppose not,” she muttered, as if his belief in Daisy’s innocence was just as offensive as his belief in her guilt. “I just wish the sheriff would get around to arresting someone so I could stop looking over my shoulder, waiting for Edna’s next harebrained scheme.”
“This ain’t Dallas,” he said. “Things take a little more time around here. But Sheriff Maynard is capable enough. I’m sure he’ll lock this down before too long.”
“And are you staying out of things?”
He rolled his eyes. “As much as I can.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, waiting for him to bring up the date again, but when he didn’t, she had no choice but to leave with her dignity intact. “See you around, I guess.”
Maybe he was waiting for her to say something, seeing as how she was the one who’d run off the other day, but when it came to taking risks, she’d move five dead bodies before showing her hand to a man like Archer Reed-Smythe—though her heart and her mind couldn’t seem to get on the same page.
As she headed toward her car, she glanced back and was pleased to discover he was watching her walk away.
He wasn’t trying to hide it either. Tipping his hat, he let that grin play over his rugged features.
Her stomach did a flip, a gentle kisses kind of flip, and she pressed a hand to it just to calm the butterflies.
The drive to the hospital took less than twenty minutes, flying down country roads with the radio turned up and a billow of dust blowing behind her tires. Cordelia couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt so light. Like all her missing pieces were finally falling into place.
Creekside General, the local hospital, wasn’t like the one she’d been to in Dallas when she’d had to have her appendix removed.
Creekside was smaller, with only a dozen beds and a staff of five.
While it served three counties, if anyone needed more serious treatments, they got referred to the bigger cities.
Mostly they tended to minor gunshot wounds and birthing babies.
The doors to the lobby swooshed open, dousing Cordelia with a shot of cool air. Aside from an older woman sitting in the corner dozing off, with her knitting needles in hand, the lobby was empty. There wasn’t even a person manning the front desk.
The fish tank gurgled at the center of the open room. Just as Martina had said, it held a variety of seahorses, anemone, bright rocks, and a few clownfish. But no coral. It could’ve been removed, but wouldn’t someone have noticed it missing? Whoever cleaned the tank?
Unless Honey was the one who cleaned it.
“Can I help you?” A woman wearing cactus-print scrubs approached the front desk. Her hair was thrown into a haphazard bun with shorter tufts sticking out on the sides. She did not look like someone who suffered foolishness.
“Has this tank ever had coral in it?” Cordelia tapped the glass and withdrew her hand when the fish scattered like the Newman brothers from a bar of soap.
The nurse squinted at the tank like it was her first time seeing it. “Not that I recall.”
“Is there someone I can talk to? About your fish tank and whether or not it ever held coral?” Cordelia tried to smile, but she was certain her right eye was twitching too much for her to come off as casual. “Martina Ruiz from the Sarsaparilla Falls library directed me here.”
“I know Martina.” The nurse tucked some of her loose hairs back into her bun. “The doctor set up the tank. It’s a hobby of hers, but I’m afraid she won’t be available to talk. It’s a little crazy around here right now.”
“I can come back another day. Or call ahead.” That would’ve been the polite thing to do, instead of showing up out of the blue asking strange questions about coral.
Cordelia turned to leave when a commotion from down the hall caught her attention.
A crash and shouting, followed by tears and pleading.
The nurse glanced at Cordelia, resignation in her eyes.
Like this wasn’t the wildest thing she’d experienced this week.
Cordelia could relate. She worked at a public library in Texas, after all.
The doors between the waiting area and the rooms burst open, and Cordelia’s jaw dropped as she locked eyes with Honey Stevens.
Who was being led away in handcuffs by Sheriff Maynard.