Leann Sweeney - The Cat, The Professor and the Poison

A waitress in a pink and white uniform appeared, handed us menus and took our drink orders-iced tea all around.

I turned and looked at Candace. “Why the need to vent?”

She said, “Between Morris and Lydia, I might be checking into the Hotel California before this case is over. Or maybe I already have, seeing as how you can never leave.”

“I’d love to help, but I don’t think I have much influence with those two.” I opened the menu, and the first thing that caught my eye was what was touted as the diner’s specialty, a Texas chili dog. In South Carolina? That was kind of like serving a Whopper at McDonald’s.

“ Lydia can drive anyone nuts,” Tom said. “She’s nearly driven me to the edge more than once. What’s going on?”

“You know Morris is acting chief?” she said.

“Jillian told me,” Tom said.

“He won’t listen,” she said. “Not like he ever listened to me before, but we’re losing time while he waits on Lydia to find a pathologist to do the autopsy. Tough to accomplish on the weekend, I know, but still, she seems to be in no hurry.”

“Losing time?” I said.

“The first forty-eight hours are crucial in any investigation, and I spent the entire night and this morning collecting evidence.” She began whispering then. “See, I know the professor was murdered.”

“Not suicide and not an accident? You’re sure?” I said.

“Yes, because-”

But Candace was interrupted by the waitress, who’d reappeared with our drinks and was ready to take our orders. We all chose Texas chili dogs-which, from their description, sounded like nothing unusual, but since they were touted as “the special” we all decided we had to try them. Tom ordered fries and Candace added onion rings, but my mind wasn’t on food any longer. My instincts had told me that man was murdered, so I was eager to hear what Candace had to say.

“Won’t you get in trouble for talking about this with us?” I said.

“She knows we won’t say anything,” Tom said.

“But that means not saying anything to Kara, Tom. You understand that?” I said.

“Who’s Kara?” Candace looked back and forth between us.

I hesitated.

“Okay, if there’s a person who you might talk to about this case, then I’ve said enough.” Candace looked ready to vent on me now. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and her lips were a tight pucker.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Kara is John’s daughter. She arrived this morning, right after the bug man left.”

“He had a daughter? And you never told me?” Candace said. She sounded hurt.

“Never told me, either,” Tom added, who obviously sympathized with her hurt.

The whole thing made me pretty uncomfortable. It was hard for me to talk about Kara and explain to others why we weren’t very close. It was one of those things that was easier left unsaid. “Can I explain when we’re both not so… so tired and cranky?” I said.

“I’m not tired,” Tom said.

“But you want to help Kara with her writing career, and-”

“Hold on, Jillian,” Tom said. “I thought you understood.” His knee moved away from mine. “Helping Kara does not involve telling her anything Candace says about the case. If the professor was murdered-and I have no doubt that’s true if Candace says so, then-”

“Kara’s a writer? What kind of writer?” Candace asked.

I sighed. And then I explained.“She lost her job and needs your support. I get it.” Candace seemed to relax, and so did I. No secrets between the three of us now.

When our food arrived, Tom said, “Let’s take a break from talking about Kara and the professor, eat these chili dogs and then get coffee over at Belle’s. I, for one, will feel better about the three of us conversing as trusting friends once my belly is full.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Stressful day. Nothing like a chili dog and fries to cure what ails you.”

Turns out the “ Texas chili dog” was like nothing I’d tasted back home in Texas. Instead, this dog had a chili sauce touched with cinnamon and came loaded with grated sweet onions. It had to be the best bad-for-you food I’d ever eaten. No one talked. We’d all gone to heart- attack-on-a-bun heaven.

When we were done, we walked one block to Belle’s Beans in silence, but in a far better mood. Food is the quicker fixer-upper. As we made our way down the block, I could almost smell the impending rain, but the aroma of coffee was stronger.

As we entered the coffee shop, I wondered whether Belle had been exaggerating about losing revenue. The place was packed. After we gave our coffee orders to Tom, he stood in line while Candace and I went back outside. Belle set up wrought-iron tables on the sidewalk when the weather was nice, and we grabbed the only one that was unoccupied.

“Tell me why you think it’s murder,” I said. I glanced through the window to my right and saw that Tom still had three people in front of him. “Or should we wait with the questions until he comes with the coffee?”

But the questions would have to wait, thanks to the arrival of Lydia Monk. She stopped at our table and smiled. “If it isn’t Cagney and Lacey.”

I snuck a peek through the window. Please stay in there, Tom. Please. The last thing I need is a crazy Lydia moment.

“What are you doing in town?” Candace asked.

“Talking to Morris. He’s not taking this case as seriously as he should.” She glared at Candace. “Because strychnine is serious business. Surely you can find the poison source if you’re as smart as you think you are.”

I thought about mentioning Rufus Bowen and how I’d questioned him about strychnine this morning, but that might have been disastrous. Lydia had no idea whom she was messing with on this particular evening, but I did. From Candace’s expression, I could tell it wouldn’t take much for her to engage Lydia in an argument.

Candace stood, her coral Henley T-shirt and blue jeans a tad ordinary in comparison to Lydia ’s bejeweled and beaded black shirt with the plunging neckline.

“Are you trying to start something, Lydia?” Candace said.

“Hold on, you two,” I said, hoping to avoid a public catfight. “You’re both competent women who know how to do your jobs. Can we leave it at that?” Okay, lying to Lydia about Lydia tweaked my conscience a tad, but I was more interested in getting the woman to move along before Tom walked outside. And that would happen soon, I noted, since he was giving our order to the young woman behind the counter this very minute.

“Start something?” Lydia said, ignoring me. “I’m not that unprofessional.”

Except for the hoop earrings, the tattooed eyeliner and the teased hair, I thought. Not unprofessional in the least.

I caught Candace checking inside the coffee shop, and she obviously realized what might happen if she kept up this disagreement. “Sorry, Lydia. You’re right. Nice seeing you without a corpse nearby.” Candace sat back down and folded her arms on the table.

Lydia narrowed her eyes and stared at Candace for a few tense seconds. Then she cracked a smile. “You know how to apologize. That’s progress, Candy.”

She looked at me. “Good night, Jillian. And stay away from crime scenes and certain security experts, would you?”

I mustered what I hoped came off as a sincere smile. “I’ll try.”

Lydia turned, and the rhinestoned spike heels she wore glittered in the light from a nearby streetlight. I watched as she walked away and released the breath I’d been holding.

Then Tom arrived with our coffee, and before he could speak, I raised a finger to my lips and nodded in the retreating Lydia ’s direction.

Tom set down the cardboard tray with two cups of coffee marked DECAF on the side and his own small espresso in a china cup. “That was close,” he whispered.