Chapter 18
Everybody loves pizza
At 6:30, Frank lifted a hand to the door to knock, but Hugh and Lilly opened the door before his knuckles could make contact.
“Hi, Frank.” Hugh shook Frank’s hand with both hands, a warm smile filling his face. “Molly, it’s so good to see you.” Hugh gave her a quick hug. Lilly greeted them as well and ushered them inside. “Nice shirt, Frank,” she said. Molly gave a warm laugh. “I got it for him. It matches his eyes.”
Lilly laughed as Frank looked at his little sister with a look often shared between siblings. “Molly thinks that between being a full-time sheriff and part-timer for her goat dairy, I have time for a rich social life.”
Molly rolled her eyes, and followed into the kitchen the earthy aromas of basil, oregano, garlic mixed with the smell of homemade pizza dough. Ric greeted them with the wave of an oven-mitt clad hands and wearing a professional black apron splashed with flour. Lilly walked into the kitchen too, peering into the oven. Both shared the kitchen space, deftly dancing around each other and stepping over Penelope, who held vigil near the oven. Penelope momentarily gave up hope of dropped food to run to Frank, because Frank knew just where to scratch her ears. Lilly imagined that in Penelope’s wildest dreams, she might trip someone–gently–and have an entire pizza hit the floor.
Molly presented a paper-wrapped round of cheese to Ric. “Thanks for inviting us,” Molly said. “This is my oldest aged goat cheese with a consistency close to Parmesan. It’s one of my best-sellers.” Ric wiped his hands on his apron and accepted the cheese, as if the paper wrapping contained precious jewels.
“Can I try it now? Lilly told me you have an entire small-batch goat cheese dairy. Could I come watch one day?”
Lilly smiled at Ric’s pure, infectious excitement about all things culinary. Molly needed help, and Ric loved anything to do with food. Lilly let them geek out over all things cheese and ran into Frank as she walked into the living room. Frank handed Lilly two bottles of non-alcoholic gourmet apple cider. He always gave the excuse of being on duty, but Lilly also knew he had spiritual reasons for not imbibing.
“Sounds like Molly found someone to talk cheese with.” Frank said. Molly gestured with her hands as she described the cheese-making process to a rapt Ric.
Lilly nodded. “With Ric living here, she may have a willing apprentice.”
“That could be good for Molly.”
“And for Ric.” Lilly thought about what Annie had mentioned—the chemistry in the air between Frank and Olivia. She considered inquiring obliquely about the visit to the Apothecary, but was thwarted by her mother walking into the kitchen followed by Annie. “Francis, Annie and I request your presence at our place for a moment.”
Lilly sighed and raised an eyebrow at her mother. “Can’t we all have one night murder-free?”
“It will be a brief work meeting. I have information he needs to hear.”
Frank’s expression reminded Lilly of their high school days, when her mother had been their principal. She whispered, “Stay strong,” as he followed Annie out the door.
Annie opened the door for Frank, and as she walked out, shouted to Ric, “We’ll be quick, don’t worry!”
Ric yelled back, “The pizzas will be done in 20 minutes. Don’t be late!”
ANNIE
Frank was barely through the door when Gran started talking. “Francis, I’ve been working on the herbal formula ingredients. Searching the herbs, and any side effects, potential poisoning options.”
Frank’s eyes were wide as he took in the array of Post-it notes and lists covering the refrigerator, already expanding to the cabinet door next to it. He stopped counting at 22 Post-its, but his gaze rested on one in particular.
In clear handwriting were three options, including water hemlock, poison hemlock, and castor bean.
He ran a hand through his hair, put his hands on his hips, and stared at the floor. Annie and Gran stood silently, waiting. Was Frank mad? Maybe he did that ‘count to ten’ thing you do as an adult so you don’t yell. Was he going to yell?
He finally said, “That’s a lot of Post-its.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t confirm anything until I meet with Vik, the M.E., tomorrow. But feel free to give me the results of your,” he paused a beat, “investigation.”
Gran filled him in, and Frank let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. I can’t deputize you but let’s call you consultants. The phone found with Phil at time of death has received a few texts and a phone call.”
Annie bounced on her heels. “So it’s the mysterious fianceé?”
“The phone company takes its time complying with warrants and requests. It’ll be another day or two before we get the content of Phil’s messages.”
“But you think it’s her,” Gran said, less a question and more a statement.
“I do. The one we saw came from an airport payphone.”
All three of them stared at the murder board for a moment, until Annie said, “Which airport?”
“One we can’t trace yet, and then Denver.”
“So one theory is that she’s been out of town—heck, maybe out of the country,” Gran said.
“Oh, that poor woman,” Annie said. “If that’s true, she’s about to have all this dropped on her as soon as she finds us, or we find her?”
“Or…” Frank paced a little. “She murdered him, left, and is returning. Don’t assume too much.”
Annie’s mind raced, wondering when they’d finally track down this mystery woman.
