How about that? Can we compromise? Let the Archers do their thing and I’ll help you with PR. I’m great with people. You know that. Let me help.”
“Fine. You can help.”
“And you’ll focus on the company? Not the investigation?”
I pulled my hand free and shifted on the couch.
“Mia.”
“PR is first.”
“Mia.”
I cracked under the interrogation. “I’ve already researched poisons at my folks’ place.”
He flopped against the backrest. “Why?” He lifted both hands overhead before clamping them on like a hat. “I’d planned to ask you to stay out of this when I thought John was a lame former activist. Now that we know he was involved with the mob, you can’t seriously pursue this.” He plunged forward, landing elbows on knees. “You’ll be the next target for the Jersey mob.”
“I don’t think it’s a statewide thing.”
His eyelids drooped. “‘You’re killing me, Smalls.’”
I smiled at his quote from The Sandbox . He posed a good argument for keeping my distance, but the bottom line was he’d never fight with me and we both knew it, so I was going to do what I wanted.
“I’m going to help the company first, but I plan to do a little more research on John. You’re welcome to help with both.”
“Fine.”
Knew it.
I pushed my phone between us and brought up my most recent search. “According to this site, poison’s a good choice for covert killing. If you think about it, poison’s been taking lives, by accident and otherwise, since the beginning of time.”
He scoffed at the little screen. “Poisons for Beginners.”
“Yes.” I rotated on the cushion, cocking a knee between us. “There are a ton of ways to deliver the dose. Some toxins work really fast, others take days. In spy movies, villains use a syringe, but victims can also ingest the poison, breathe it or have it rubbed on their skin. Look at this.” I scrolled the screen with the flick of my finger. “Arsenic. Hemlock. Cobra bites. Mushrooms. Methanol. I could read all night and only learn a portion of what there is to know.”
“Uh-huh.” He pressed the heels of both hands to his eyes. “I think if he was bitten by a cobra, he might’ve noticed.”
“Exactly, but what if someone put something into the Healer’s Hand Cream tester or our wassail? I don’t think that’s possible, but I’m eliminating worst-case scenarios first. I wonder if he stopped to talk with anyone after he left Surly Wench, but before he spoke with me.”
Nate uncovered his eyes and stared, helpless. “Last time nearly got me killed.” His voice was low and weak, a last-ditch effort to bring me to his side of the debate.
Gooseflesh rose on my arms. “Last time, I caught a killer who was in the process of ruining dozens of lives.” My counselor said so.
“Yes, and for that, you’re a hero. A hero with nightmares, a new apartment and no tech support. You still haven’t replaced Warren and I know why. You’re not over the last murder investigation you got involved in.”
I ground my teeth. If he kept going, he’d just piss me off, and he knew it. “I’m fine. In fact,” I improvised to prove my point, “I’m calling a temporary agency tomorrow and hiring a woman to fill Warren’s position.” A very tiny, feeble old lady, preferably.
My phone buzzed and my heart stopped. I’d chosen “Flight of the Bumblebee” for Bree’s ringtone for good reason. Scary how one sound could encapsulate a person’s personality so perfectly. “Hello?”
Bree’s voice blasted through the phone. “When are you sending the email? Grandma’s on her fourth beer and threatening to call the news station again. You need to do something.”
“Calm down. I needed to see Nate. I’m heading home now.”
“You need to smooth things over with the public. Squelch these ridiculous accusations against the company ASAP. We need to get out in front of this train before it runs us over.”
Technically, getting out in front of
“Fine. You can help.”
“And you’ll focus on the company? Not the investigation?”
I pulled my hand free and shifted on the couch.
“Mia.”
“PR is first.”
“Mia.”
I cracked under the interrogation. “I’ve already researched poisons at my folks’ place.”
He flopped against the backrest. “Why?” He lifted both hands overhead before clamping them on like a hat. “I’d planned to ask you to stay out of this when I thought John was a lame former activist. Now that we know he was involved with the mob, you can’t seriously pursue this.” He plunged forward, landing elbows on knees. “You’ll be the next target for the Jersey mob.”
“I don’t think it’s a statewide thing.”
His eyelids drooped. “‘You’re killing me, Smalls.’”
I smiled at his quote from The Sandbox . He posed a good argument for keeping my distance, but the bottom line was he’d never fight with me and we both knew it, so I was going to do what I wanted.
“I’m going to help the company first, but I plan to do a little more research on John. You’re welcome to help with both.”
“Fine.”
Knew it.
I pushed my phone between us and brought up my most recent search. “According to this site, poison’s a good choice for covert killing. If you think about it, poison’s been taking lives, by accident and otherwise, since the beginning of time.”
He scoffed at the little screen. “Poisons for Beginners.”
“Yes.” I rotated on the cushion, cocking a knee between us. “There are a ton of ways to deliver the dose. Some toxins work really fast, others take days. In spy movies, villains use a syringe, but victims can also ingest the poison, breathe it or have it rubbed on their skin. Look at this.” I scrolled the screen with the flick of my finger. “Arsenic. Hemlock. Cobra bites. Mushrooms. Methanol. I could read all night and only learn a portion of what there is to know.”
“Uh-huh.” He pressed the heels of both hands to his eyes. “I think if he was bitten by a cobra, he might’ve noticed.”
“Exactly, but what if someone put something into the Healer’s Hand Cream tester or our wassail? I don’t think that’s possible, but I’m eliminating worst-case scenarios first. I wonder if he stopped to talk with anyone after he left Surly Wench, but before he spoke with me.”
Nate uncovered his eyes and stared, helpless. “Last time nearly got me killed.” His voice was low and weak, a last-ditch effort to bring me to his side of the debate.
Gooseflesh rose on my arms. “Last time, I caught a killer who was in the process of ruining dozens of lives.” My counselor said so.
“Yes, and for that, you’re a hero. A hero with nightmares, a new apartment and no tech support. You still haven’t replaced Warren and I know why. You’re not over the last murder investigation you got involved in.”
I ground my teeth. If he kept going, he’d just piss me off, and he knew it. “I’m fine. In fact,” I improvised to prove my point, “I’m calling a temporary agency tomorrow and hiring a woman to fill Warren’s position.” A very tiny, feeble old lady, preferably.
My phone buzzed and my heart stopped. I’d chosen “Flight of the Bumblebee” for Bree’s ringtone for good reason. Scary how one sound could encapsulate a person’s personality so perfectly. “Hello?”
Bree’s voice blasted through the phone. “When are you sending the email? Grandma’s on her fourth beer and threatening to call the news station again. You need to do something.”
“Calm down. I needed to see Nate. I’m heading home now.”
“You need to smooth things over with the public. Squelch these ridiculous accusations against the company ASAP. We need to get out in front of this train before it runs us over.”
Technically, getting out in front of
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