Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) by K.J. Emrick Page A

lower lip.  “Don’t know ya, Mate.  Or yer Sheila here.  What can I do ya for?”
    “We’re here on vacation—”
    “Good for you.  Tourists from America.  I’m not a bloody tour guide.  Whad’ya want?”
    The man was close to shutting the door in their faces.  Darcy could tell just from his tone of voice and the hostility that radiated off him in waves.  Some people were like that, she knew.  Some people hated outsiders intruding on their business.  Misty Hollow was a pretty friendly place, for instance, but even back home they had plenty of people who were happy to live their lives behind closed doors.
    Before he could shut them out she took a step forward.  “We were worried about the people who got poisoned here,” she said.  “We heard you were a victim.  Would it be all right to talk to you for a few minutes?”
    “The poison?”  Alec’s face softened, going through a series of emotions that barely registered before it settled on a tight smile.  “Right.  I mean, sure.  Anything to help a neighbor, even if they are from the other side of the blooming world.  Come in, come in.”
    He stepped aside for them to enter.  Jon glanced at Darcy and then quickly looked away.  She knew what he was thinking.  That was a fast change of heart.
    “I think he likes the attention,” Jon whispered to her when Alec’s back was turned.  “Being poisoned probably made him a local celebrity.”
    “I’ve some water in the kettle fer tea,” he told them, cinching the belt of his robe up tighter.  “Wasn’t expecting company.  Don’t get many visitors.  I work night shift at the quarry out west of here.  Usually asleep during the day.  But, I got crook after that poison got me.  Had to take a few days.  Now the whole outfit is shut down for the season and I ain’t got no way to make me rent.”
    He stopped talking.  His hands slipped into the pockets of his robe like he didn’t know what to do with them.  “So.  Er.  What can I do for ya?”
    They were in his living room, but truthfully Darcy didn’t dare sit down.  Standing was fine with her.  There was a grimy couch with a horrible floral pattern and two mismatched easy chairs, both different shades of blue.  A spring was poking through the cushion of one.  The rest of the room was just as neglected.  The wallpaper needed to be scrubbed.  Magazines and beer bottles and empty pizza boxes littered the floor.  Alec probably wasn’t home much, Darcy guessed, working nights like he did.  That probably explained the mess.
    Or, he was just a slob.  She wasn’t sure.  Either way, she stayed standing with Jon.
    “Mister Beaudoin,” she said, hoping that being honest with him would gain her some continued good will, “do you know how you were poisoned?”
    He was shaking his head even before she had the question finished.  “Coppers asked me that at the hospital.  ‘Fraid not.  So, don’t drink the water, I guess?”
    He let out a half-hearted laugh for his own joke that quickly turned into a cough.
    “Does the hospital know what poison you had in your system?” Jon asked.
    “Sure enough.  Some sort of biological poison, they said.  Like poison oak, just a whole lot stronger.  Put me out on my…er, me backside for four whole days.  Couldn’t see straight the first two.  Couldn’t swallow, neither.  Bad rash all over me skin.  Still coming back from it.  Had to take a week off from me job.  Nothing I’d wish on a worst enemy, I can tell you that.”  Again he stopped, like he’d caught himself saying too much.  “Anywho, you folks won’t have to worry.  Only hit four of us.  Not like it’s an epidemic.”
    “Two people have died,” Darcy reminded him.
    Alec shrugged.  “Everybody bites the big one sometime, Miss.”
    That wasn’t a very caring attitude.  “Did you know the victims?” she asked him.  “The ones who died, I mean.”
    “Not the first bloke.  Knew the second one, sort