A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) Page 2

  I ran for the phone and dialed. “Please, we need an ambulance at 564 Main. A woman’s having a severe allergic reaction—hurry!” I threw the phone down, leaving the dispatcher on the line. He called to me from the phone, but I ran back to Melinda.

  She and Emily had dragged Charla to the floor, where her breaths came in ragged gasps.

  “Hang on! Hang on! Help’s coming!” Melinda’s wide-eyed gaze darted around the room. “Benadryl? Anyone have Benadryl?” No one did.

  I knelt down next to Charla and prayed in whispers, holding her hand that now squeezed mine in a viselike grip. Her body shook in spasms.

  “What’s taking so long?” Melinda wailed.

  I ran back to the phone and grabbed the receiver. “Where’s the ambulance? She can’t breathe. We don’t have Benadryl or an EpiPen.”

  “Ma’am, they’re en route. They’ve just left County Hospital and are about five minutes out. Try to keep her airway clear.”

  “Okay, okay, we’ll try.” I flew back to Charla’s side. “She said they’ll be here in about five minutes.”

  Charla’s eyelids fluttered, then closed.

  “No–o–o–o!” Melinda wailed.

  “Tilt her head back.” My basic first-aid training took over. “Try to keep her airway open.” I felt her pulse, racing too quickly for me to count. Lord, no, please!

  “Her pen’s got to be here!” Melinda went back to the table, where the other girls stood, clasping hands to mouths. Mitchalene’s face was streaked with tears.

  Charla’s fingers were turning blue, her lips now a deep purple and twice their normal size. Not good. A siren wailed in the distance. Tess ran for the door.

  Melinda sank to her knees beside her sister. “Charla…no, no, no…” She brushed silken blond strands back from Charla’s forehead, now distorted and mottled with red welts.

  Charla’s body gave one last great convulsion, her arms flailing like a rag doll’s. I closed my eyes. The siren’s wail intensified. The pulse under my fingertips grew still.

  Chapter Two

  The ambulance left without using its sirens. I watched it glide away down Main Street. Clusters of people gathered on the sidewalk. A few onlookers squinted from the parking lot of the Antiques Barn across the street, so I reentered my store. Not long now, and news would spread. Melinda sat in Charla’s chair, its red paper flowers crushed. Emily sat next to her, crying. Tess and Mitchalene were busy on their cell phones, presumably trying to secure rides home. I wanted to throw up. I’d skipped breakfast that morning, and the only food I brought with me was a Baggie of my sister Diana’s homemade beef jerky.

  As much as Charla had grated on my nerves, I would have never wished anything like this to happen to her, or to anyone. Jerry, for the second time that morning, came to the shop. A rookie officer questioned the bridesmaids, then left. Maggie dusted the register for fingerprints. Like that mattered now.

  A heavy stillness hung in the store. At last I realized I still had Cherries Jubilee scrub drying on my face, so I grabbed a washcloth to wipe it off.

  Jerry jotted something on his notepad and approached me. “What were y’all doing again?”

  “Facial scrub…” With my free hand, I picked up the bowl Charla had used. “She was fine until…” I closed my eyes.

  “Until she put that stuff on her face.” Melinda finished for me. Her glare would have made me flinch if I wasn’t so numb.

  “I don’t understand. I made this scrub before and Charla used it. Charla told me she was allergic to certain ingredients, and I made sure the scrub contained none of those.”

  Emily sniffled, then sat up straighter in her chair. “Charla liked to push it, though. Last week she snuck a bite of my strawberry pie over at Honey’s Place.” I nodded in understanding. Honey’s had the best food in town, and their homemade pies were to die for. Maybe not literally to die for, but…I frowned.

  Melinda shot Emily a look. “And that stunt you pulled on Valentine’s Day wasn’t even funny. You should be glad she had her EpiPen after eating a chocolate bon-bon filled with strawberry nougat.”

  A flush swept over Emily’s face. She glanced from me, to Jerry, then back at Melinda. “She wore my new sweater to that party without asking me. I know, I was being stupid and immature, now that I think about it.” Fresh tears came from Emily’s eyes. “But that’s just it, I didn’t think… . Oh, Charla…if I could take it back.”

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about. This is just an unfortunate incident.” Jerry turned from them and gestured to me. “I have to submit a sample of that soap to the lab for testing.” He almost sounded apologetic, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “Do what you need to do.” I pushed the container into Jerry’s hands. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions, especially with Melinda here.

  “Miss Thacker, I’m really sorry.” Jerry glanced at her. “Do you need someone to come get you?”

  Melinda shook her head. “Emily’ll drive me to Mom and Dad’s.” A tear rolled down her cheek, now free of scrub. After the initial uproar had quieted, I had passed around the wet washcloths to both soothe the women and let them clean their faces.

  Tess moved to give Melinda a hug. “Hey, my sister just pulled up. She’s takin’ me and Mitch home. I’ll call ya later.” Melinda nodded. Without a word to me or a look in my direction, Tess and Mitchalene left the store.

  I sat down at the round table. “Melinda—”

  “Don’t talk to me right now.” The words stabbed at me. “Em, get me out of here.” They snatched up their purses and left the store.

  Jerry was leaning against a glycerin-soap display. “I need to file my report. You gonna be all right?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to call Ben.”

  “That’s a fine idea.”

  With that, he left me alone with the memory of the tragedy fresh in my mind. I sat down and did the next logical thing. I prayed. I didn’t know why this tragedy had happened, but I prayed for Charla’s family. What Melinda must be going through, her parents, and Robert, Charla’s fiancé. The thought of how they must feel made me want to cry. My sister, Diana, once told me I have the gift of empathy, if that’s a gift. Sometimes I don’t like the sensation of wearing someone else’s shoes.

  I shifted to safer territory and prayed that God would show me what to do next, that He would protect my business somehow—and my reputation. The petition made me feel shallow. But I’d worked so hard on Tennessee River Soaps. For once, I wanted to succeed in Greenburg.

  As I walked around the shop, I prayed, touching the bins of scoop-and-bag-it-yourself bath salts. I picked up one of the molded glycerin soaps. A pale blue background surrounded a taupe swirl that looked like a seashell. Maybe this is frivolous, Lord, but for once in my life, I believe I’m doing something right.

  My cell phone warbled before I got to amen. Ben!

  I punched the button. “Hey, hon, I’m sure glad it’s you.”

  “Jerry left a message, said I needed to call you immediately.” Already his baritone voice warmed me to my toes. “I just stopped for lunch. What’s goin’ on?”

  Once I explained what had happened, his response was stillness on the other end of the line. Ben borders on being the silent type, but even for him this was unnerving.

  “Ben?”

  “That’s horrible. How’s her family?”

  “Her sister’s taking it hard. Which is understandable.” My throat felt like I’d swallowed the sharp end of a potato chip. “Everything happened so fast.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it was just that one scrub that killed her. I’ve heard some allergens build up in someone’s system over time, and one little thing could send them into shock.” Ben knew a little something about everything, his brain a virtual sponge.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “I listen to a lot of talk radio on the road.”

  I wished I could reach through the phone and hug him. “I can’t wait till you get home.
”

  “Well, I’m on my way back now. I should be in Jackson by ten, and hopefully in Greenburg by midnight.”

  “I’ll wait up if you want to call. I…I don’t know how well I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” I despised the quaver in my voice. But sometimes I needed a bit of rescuing, no matter how hard I tried to run things.

  “You want me to pray with you?”

  “Sure.” I listened to Ben’s words pass over me like a breeze, then waft their way to heaven. He was a definite keeper. Charla could have her polished young lawyer who went for manicures and moisturizers, but I’d hang on to my gentle giant with a buzz cut who’s a smidge rough around the edges. Except Charla didn’t have her young lawyer anymore. Oh, Lord, help her loved ones. And my attitude.

  “I’ll call you tonight, Ands.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” But I wasn’t done talking just yet. “You know what really bugs me?”

  “What?” I heard the weariness in his voice. He was probably thinking, Here goes Ands into one of her ramblings. Okay, so I liked to think out loud.

  “I know that scrub had nothing in it that Charla would have been allergic to. I mixed it myself, using the exact recipe Charla and I played with a month ago. She mentioned that she’d had reactions to strawberries, peanuts, and mangos. But this was cherry scrub.” I smacked my countertop for emphasis.

  “Baby, there’s just some things we can’t explain.”

  “Well, I know the scrub was fine. I refuse to believe otherwise.” I moved back to the table in the center of the shop. The bowls still lay where the young women had set them down. One had ended up on the floor somehow. Cherry scrub was already starting to dry onto the laminate surface of the table.

  “Sometimes things happen. You didn’t do anything wrong. Did Jerry happen to take any of that goop for the lab?”

  “Yeah, he did. It’ll take forever to hear back, though.”

  “I’m sure he’ll give you a copy of the report.”

  “I just don’t like waiting,” I tried not to sigh.

  “Neither do I.” His affection oozed through the line. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “I miss you, too.” My throat tightened. “Well, I’d better get off the phone so you can get back on the road.”

  “I love you, Ands.”

  “I love you, too.” The phone clicked, and I slid the cover shut.

  Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben. What was I going to do? I missed his voice when he was away, the strength of his arms, the dimple in his right cheek when he’s embarrassed. His little-boy joy at discovering something new. The man was a fact magnet. Yet when he was in town for too long, I sometimes felt like I wanted to run and hit the road. But it wasn’t him. It was me.

  If I dropped a few hints, I’d probably have a diamond bright enough to blind someone. Not as over-the-top as Charla’s ring, but it would be mine. Ben worked hard and was frugal with his money but lavish with his love.

  So I came back around to the inevitable question, what was wrong with me?

  I already knew I couldn’t imagine being without him. Trouble was, I didn’t know how I could be with him. Every day. All the time. Day in and day out.

  The bell over the front door clanged. I tried not to cringe before I looked up. I’d forgotten to lock the door. Then I smiled at Diana, my sister with the more normal name. Momma had put her foot down when Diana was born.

  “I came as soon as I could get away from the drive-through window.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and plopped onto the chair next to me, her brown eyes round, her eyebrows raised. “What in the world happened?”

  “I don’t know what you heard, but the rumor around town is probably that my facial scrub killed Charla Thacker.”

  Diana touched my arm. At the bank, her hands touched more money than we’d ever have in our lifetime. “All I heard was an accident happened at your shop and something about Charla. But I’ve been frantic wantin’ to find out. Did you talk to Ben?”

  “I just did. He’ll be home tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” Diana, an old soul, had a soothing way about her much like Momma’s. “What about you? Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “But I need to pick your brain.” I reached for one of the bowls that still hadn’t made it to the storage room. “Something in this scrub killed her, but I haven’t a clue what it was or how it got into the containers.”

  Diana opened the bowl and sniffed. “Did she try to eat it?”

  “Of course not.” I shook my head. “She put it on her face and—bam!”

  “It’s not your fault.” Her calming tone didn’t have the same effect on me that it usually did.

  “I know it’s not, but you know how people talk. Small towns have the longest memories.” I spread my arms out as if to embrace the room. “I’m heartsick over what happened to Charla, but I put so much into this business.”

  “More than even the rug-weaving business you started, or the pottery shop, or the gourmet-cookie business?”

  My face flamed. “Those flopped. This place has a chance. Or had.” God made me creative. I’d had a hard time focusing that gift until I opened Tennessee River Soaps.

  Diana pointed at me. “Those businesses didn’t flop. They struggled. I might not have finished my business degree, but I know that businesses have growing pains, face struggles, and have setbacks. You have so much talent and creativity. You can’t quit because of what happened to Charla. No matter what people say.”

  It was my turn to point at her, but I instead pointed at the floor where Charla had lain until EMS had strapped her onto a gurney and rolled her from the store. “She died right there. I don’t know if I’d want to shop here either. The poor girl.” I hadn’t even thought about when to reopen for business. What sounded like a respectable amount of time, and what sounded uncaring? Still too early to tell.

  “You know what you need to do?”

  I shrugged at her question.

  “You need to close up shop, put this scrub on your worktable, and go home and turn off the phone. You’ve had a horrible shock. I know your first thoughts were for Charla’s sister and friends, but you’ve been through an ordeal, too. I’ll tell Momma and Daddy.” Diana sounded so convincing. “She’ll send some soup over for you or something.”

  “But my back door—the lock’s been jimmied. Someone broke into the store last night.”

  “Huh? You didn’t tell me that. When?” Her outrage would have normally amused me, but now I felt droopy with the adrenaline rush wearing off.

  “Last night. What happened to Charla sort of overshadowed the breakin for a while.” I explained what I’d found that morning.

  Diana snapped her fingers. “I’ll ask Steve to rig something up for the door. In fact, I’ll call him right now.” Not only did she marry before I did, but she married a handyman. She found her cell phone and hit a button.

  Great. The matter of the breakin fought for attention again. I’d have to call the real-estate company and tell them what happened. It wouldn’t surprise me if my rent increased once the lease came up for renewal in a few more months. All over a broken door lock.

  “Thanks, Di,” was all I could manage to say while my thoughts overwhelmed me. I vacillated from shock over the breakin, what happened to Charla, and then to a flooding sense of empathy for Melinda as if I’d been the one to lose a sister. A constricting feeling came into my throat. I struggled to catch my breath as a sense of overwhelming loss swept through me. Lord, if anything like that ever happened to Di—

  Peace

  I wrestled with my emotions while Diana chatted. She snapped her phone shut and waved me off. “Now go. I’ll wait for Steve here and he’ll put in a new lock.” Diana sounded like she was addressing Taylor, my six-year-old nephew. “Stop worrying and borrowing trouble. ‘Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof ’ and all that.”

  I stood and gave her half a smile, then took off my canvas apron. I had to agree. So far today had contained enough trouble
for a good long time.

  Chapter Three

  Since I knew I’d be too busy working at the store to take any kind of vacation that summer, I had agreed to teach the church’s high school Sunday school class until September. I had thought about calling the Sunday school coordinator to see if she could find someone to take my class that morning, but I stopped myself. A substitute for the substitute. Ha. My Sunday routine would hold back the memories of Charla’s body on the floor. The kids would make me laugh as they usually did.

  As I surveyed the room filled with nine girls and five boys, I didn’t regret the decision. This morning, however, stories flew around with a life of their own. I did my best, though, to deflect rumors with the truth. No one gave me accusing looks when I explained that Charla had tried the scrub before the party, and it hadn’t bothered her.

  So I let them talk about what happened…to a point. The adult classes had coffee and doughnut time, better known as fellowship, so I figured the kids needed a chance to talk also. My stomach turned over on itself when I heard snatches of conversation.

  “Her face was big as a balloon.” One kid held his hands up around his face and puffed out his cheeks like a blowfish. “My brother’s friend worked the ambulance yesterday.”

  “I heard a news story once about something like that happening to a girl after kissing her boyfriend.” A brunette shook her long, curtainlike hair. “She was allergic to peanuts, and he’d had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, hours and hours before.”

  “That’s just so gross, you know. Didn’t he brush his teeth?” another girl interjected. Oh, the practicality of teenagers.

  “Where’s Seth?” I scanned the faces in the room for the slim, dark-haired boy who had sat in the back last week. He hadn’t participated, but I felt his challenging stare throughout the entire class.

  Sadie, the girl who talked about the peanut-butter kiss, spoke up. “He probably won’t be here. He’s Charla’s cousin.”

  I nodded. “I see. Well, this seems like a good time to share prayer requests. We should pray for the Thacker family. Does anyone want to write down the requests so we can keep track?”