Page 54 of The Rainbow Recipe
Dante almost staggered. Then remembering this was all shadow play, he steeled himself. “I’ll think about that better in the morning.”
Spirit? Did that mean Lucia wasdead? Or possibly that Evie was feeding off his fears. How could Lucia have died and no one told him? It was impossible.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, Pris lifted the outside cellar door and called down, “We can throw down an air mattress if you can’t climb out, Dr. Ives. I’ll send the twins down to join you in the morning, shall I?”
After that text, it would be a relief to bed down here, out of view of the too-perceptive women. He needed time to process. “Do that, Miss Broadhurst,” he called back. “Reuben says he has other places to be. Tell me when you’ve solved the case.”
She slammed the door. Unaware of Evie’s second text, the other men reached for their beers and belongings and headed out, saluting him as they did so.
“Welcome to the whacky world of women.” Jax pounded him sympathetically on the shoulder before heading out. “Where would we be without them?”
Backing up the cellar stairs on his bum, Dante figured. Pris knew damned well what she was doing—tucking him into bed like the twins. She just did it with prickly flare.
That gave him something better to think about besides the twins’ mother possibly being dead—which explained why Lucia’s hairbrush hadn’t been touched since the twins were toddlers and lent new meaning to the violence in her townhouse.
Some days, he hated his eccentric abilities. As a scientist, he didn’t trust them—until he had evidence. Talking ghosts weren’t any better. Both just led him to visions of horror and not a single fact.
Twenty-eight: Pris
“One way or another,planned murder is all about the money,” Evie insisted after sending Loretta off to school and Jax off to work the next morning.
“You’re forgetting crimes of passion,” Pris argued, chopping vegetables while her cousin washed breakfast dishes.
They both stewed over Lucia’s unexpected presence last night, except Pris didn’t want to expose all her thoughts just yet. If Lucia was dead...She had to have been buried without anyone knowing of it. Which meant murder, right? Dante had every reason to murder a woman who hadn’t told him about his children until she showed up on his doorstep. Could she believe that he wasn’t there when Lucia abandoned the twins?
Actually, she rather could. He was never home.
“Someone else needs to do the statistics, but I’m guessing that men don’t risk the death penalty unless they’re sociopathically possessive, violently drunk, or know there’s life insurance or money. No one was passionate about KK,” Evie contended. “And there was no violence.”
“As far as we can tell, KK only had stock in nearly bankrupt La Bella. She lived off a generous salary. Do you know if she had life insurance?” Pris checked out the screen door. The twins happily ran around the chilly backyard with her aunt’s golden retriever. Psycat had retreated to the warm top of the refrigerator.
Dante was still sleeping. She didn’t want to talk about Lucia until she talked to him first.
“I’ll text Roark about life insurance. Surely the sheriff knows. Anyway, poison isn’t a crime of passion.” After texting, Evie returned to her original thought while she waited for a reply. “It has to be about money.”
“Poison is a woman’s weapon.” Pris returned to beheading Brussels sprout stalks. “Rhonda is the only woman in this scenario. Put her together with the money—”
“But Rhonda wasn’t there when KK died. KK smacked her and sent her away, remember?” Evie checked her phone screen.
“You don’t have film of what happened in the mayor’s office. Rhonda could have poisoned the limoncello while she was there.” Pris had barely met any of the suspects, but anyone hanging around Vincent was corrupt in her book. Dante said he sensed violence in Vincent’s townhouse, and she had read hatred for the twins on the man’s mind. Hate and violence were villainous behavior.
But KK’s brother Matthew had lived in that townhouse too. He’d been everywhere KK was. And then there was Nick...She couldn’t do this.
Evie madly texted, presumably sending all these questions to her team. “But Rhonda could have died in that fire.She wouldn’t have lit it herself. Did someone know she was KK’s killer and attempted revenge?”
“Someone didn’t want her telling what she knew? Or more probably, didn’t know she was in there.” Pris dumped the sprouts in a bowl and hunted for seasoning.
Evie’s phone swooshed. “We don’t have enough to give the sheriff. And if we say poison is a woman’s crime, the finger points at you. At least Lawless Jane isn’t stirring up trouble from her hospital bed.”
“Did she burn her fingers?” Pris asked sarcastically.
“Huh, hadn’t thought of that. But phones take dictation. Maybe she saw me in the bistro and guessed I was the tipster? I thought I was pretty well hidden. Maybe I won’t go online to check if she’s back.”
“No reporters on the doorstep yet.” Pris began dousing her butchered ingredients with oils and potions. Cooking was her witchcraft. “Probably ought to prepare ourselves though.”
Evie grimaced. “I’ll bring down the gobbler for an early warning system. You check the blog and see if she’s posted.” She took off her apron.
“You don’t still have that awful thing?” Pris called after her. “It can’t possibly work.”
