“Is that what all that was?” Patty asked. “I wondered. Probably a heart attack.”
“Or stroke,” Laura added. “She was high strung and had really high blood pressure.”
“We’re not sure what it was,” I said. “They’re going to perform an autopsy.”
“There’s talk it might’ve been poison,” Sebastian volunteered, earning a hard glare from me. “That’s what Dave Bates said when he took her away. They have to wait for the autopsy, but Stormy and I got to talking this afternoon and we were wondering if anyone would want to poison her. It seems a little strange.”
“It does seem strange,” Laura agreed.
“Not to me.” Patty vehemently shook her head. “Everybody here was angry with her because of what she did. I don’t know that someone would’ve poisoned her over that, but never say never.
“What did she do?” Sebastian pressed. “You know I love my gossip. I rely on you ladies to provide me regular doses.”
“It feels untoward to speak about the dead this way,” Patty hedged.
“Oh, please.” Dorothy’s eye roll was pronounced. “Don’t go getting soft on me now. The truth is, everybody here hated Martha because of the Jake Pitts situation.”
“Who is Jake Pitts?” I asked.
“He’s a retiree who moved to the area about four or five years ago,” Sebastian replied, his mind clearly busy. “He had family here.”
“He’s a retired gambler,” Patty explained. “He lived in Hemlock Cove when he was a child — I think that’s what I heard — and then he moved to Vegas as an adult. He lived there for about thirty years and made his living gambling.”
“Why was that a problem?” I asked.
“It wasn’t a problem until he turned sixty-five and could start hanging out here.”
I waited, and when she didn’t continue, I held up my hand. “And?”
The sigh Patty let loose was long and drawn out. “We had set partners.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we had set partners. We stuck with a partner for a month and then rotated. That way nobody could get too comfortable or cheat. If you constantly had a different partner, you could never get comfortable enough to risk cheating. Nobody would want to partner with you again.”
“We’re talking euchre, right?” I pressed.
“Of course we’re talking euchre.” Dorothy’s face twisted into a grimace. “Is there any other game? Really.”
Sebastian shot me a small smirk. “Euchre is the game of champions,” he provided. “I’m assuming Martha screwed up the flow by bringing Jake into the mix.”
“She did,” Dorothy agreed. “He was not supposed to be included, but she paired herself with him because she figured she would never lose if they were together.”
“And that’s why everybody hated her?” I asked.
“How can you not hate someone who would do that?”
I could think of a million ways that wouldn’t change my life, but this was not the time to bring them up. “Do you think someone would poison her over that?”
“I don’t know,” Dorothy said. “People were angry. It’s hard to say.”
“Do you know anybody angry enough to threaten her?”
“Not off the top of my head. I can ask around.”
I threw her what I hoped came across as a legitimate smile. “That would be great. We’re not sure she was poisoned, but if she was, we want to find out who did it.”
Dorothy was solemn. “If someone killed Martha because of our tournaments, it’s not a stretch to believe we could be next.”
On that we could agree.
5
Five
I planned to get dinner from the restaurant and veg out in my apartment all night, but my mind was busy so I opted for Campbell’s soup instead. I put it on the stovetop, changed into comfortable fuzzy pajama pants, and settled in front of the television with the kitten on my lap. It took a full ten minutes for the ancient burner to bring the soup to a boil. I was resigned to a miserable meal when I placed the bowl on the tray next to the couch.
That’s when there was a knock at the door.
I scowled as I shifted the tray to the side and got up, stomping as I went to answer it. “I’m not letting you use my bathroom again,” I shouted by way of greeting as I pulled it open. “It’s simply not going to happen.”
Instead of Grandpa, I found Hunter standing at the top of the stairs with pizza and a drink caddy. His eyebrows lifted in amusement as he looked me up and down. “What if I promise to only use four squares of toilet paper?” he asked.
I felt like a moron and instantly checked my tank top to make sure I’d kept my bra on. Apparently laziness was my saving grace today, because I found I was perfectly respectable ... other than the haphazard way I’d pulled up my hair and the ridiculous sharks smiling at me from the fuzzy pants.
“I thought you were Grandpa,” I said. I felt foolish but was determined to keep Hunter from taking control of the conversation, thus putting me in a position of weakness. I was in no mood to be weak. “He has a thing about taking over my bathroom.”
“I noticed when I was here before. I thought he only worked mornings.”
“That doesn’t stop him from using my bathroom when he has dinner here.”
“Good to know.” He studied me for a moment and then shifted the boxes he carried. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, right.” I moved away from the door, using my foot to keep the kitten from racing down the stairs. There were times when the scents grew too much for him and he demanded to investigate the magical world I could only assume he believed existed one floor below us. Friday nights were especially difficult because it was fried cod night.
I followed Hunter into the kitchen and watched him place the boxes on my kitchen table. It was like an out-of-body experience. He was in my kitchen, with dinner, and the way he smiled at me had my mind flashing back to when we were teenagers.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” I admitted, shifting from one foot to the other, nervous. “I thought you might be busy with the Martha stuff.”
“We still don’t know if there is Martha stuff to be busy with,” he reminded me, glancing around. “What’s that?” He inclined his head toward the tray in the living room.
“Dinner,” I replied.
“What is it?”
“Chicken and stars.”
He pressed his lips together and I could see the merriment dancing behind his eyes. “I see you’ve developed a refined palette as you’ve matured.”
“I’ll have you know that chicken and stars is the height of sophistication.”
“That and the alphabet vegetarian vegetable soup you like so much.”
My heart did a long, slow roll. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Of course I remember. You’re a creature of habit with food. Your idea of cooking back then was dropping slices of steak in a frying pan with teriyaki sauce, frozen peas and corn, and calling it stir fry.”