Punch, Pastries, and Poison Page 9

  Slow was the right term for it, but steady wasn’t. As customers came in, they naturally sat at the clean tables, which I then had to circle back and clean again. Ephy and I were just getting to the last few tables when Sammy came back into the café from her break.

  “I’m going to work on refilling the pastry case,” she announced. “Is there anything in particular you want me to focus on, Fran?”

  I turned and looked at her with a hand on my hip. She still didn’t look too good, although her cheeks weren’t as flaming red as they had been before she sat down. “I want you to focus on going home and getting some rest.”

  “I’m fine, really.” But I could see how she was leaning against the counter.

  “Then why don’t you—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Ephy interrupted.

  “What’s this?” She held up a box wrapped in brown paper and rotated it around.

  “It looks like a package,” I snapped, irritated by her obliviousness. “The mailman probably came in while we were busy and dropped it off.”

  “No postmark. Just your name on it.”

  I sighed and grabbed the package from her hand, thinking it was entirely likely that she just didn’t know what the postmark on a package looked like. But, to my further annoyance, she was right. Just my name on it—and not even my full name like my mail usually had. Just “Fran Amaro,” and that was all. No address, no postmark, no nothing. “Someone must have dropped it off during the rush.”

  I thought about just dropping it back on the counter and worrying it about later, but I was curious about what was inside. I thought maybe Matt had brought something by for me and decided to leave it when he saw how busy we were. Besides, I knew Ephy would pester me about it until she got to see what was inside.

  I slid my finger under the neat folds of the paper and pulled one side open. The gift box inside slid out easily. It was square and large enough that I could only just hold it in one hand. The box was nondescript, a dark gray color with no logo on either side. I pulled the lid off.

  “Chocolates.”

  “Someone left you chocolates?” Rhonda asked, leaning over the counter to look.

  “Looks like it.” I poked my finger around the edges of the box, looking for a card or anything else that might give me an idea of who had left it or where it had come from, but I found nothing. I looked again at the brown paper the box came wrapped in. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but my name was written in block letters, which made identifying the writer difficult. “But it doesn’t say who it’s from.”

  “Matt,” Rhonda said.

  “Probably.” He didn’t usually write like that, but maybe he was trying to be sneaky. I put the lid back on the box.

  “You’re not going to eat them?” Ephy looked incredulous. She eyed the box as I put it down on the counter near where she’d found it.

  I was surprised. I’d never taken her for the kind of girl to go for chocolates, especially after her comment about not liking sweet stuff. Maybe I needed to talk to Mike about her after all. But her palate had surprised me before, so maybe chocolate just worked for her in a way that other sweets didn’t.

  “Not right now. I want to get everything cleaned up and the cases restocked before I sit down and have a snack.”

  “Well, can I have one?”

  The answer that came immediately to my lips was a resounding no, but she was so contrary that I knew she would ask why, and I was too tired from being sick and too daunted by the mountain of work still left to be done to argue.

  “Sure, just don’t stick your finger in the bottoms to pick out which one you want to eat.”

  She looked at me like I’d lost my mind, which, to be fair, was how she usually looked at me. I looked at Rhonda for support. Surely I wasn’t the only person who knew about this abomination picky people committed against boxes of chocolates in an attempt to spare themselves the indignity of biting into an orange crème center when what they really wanted was vanilla crème. Few things were worse, in my opinion, than biting into a fancy chocolate or truffle only to realize too late that someone’s thumbnail had already been inside it.

  “Dan and the boys do that to every nice piece of chocolate I bring into the house. I have to hide it with the cleaning supplies so they don’t get to it.”

  My eyebrows went up in alarm at the mental image of Rhonda eating chocolates that had been sitting next to—and possibly contaminated with—bleach or furniture polish or who knew what.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, seeing the look on my face. “I put them in a plastic bag or two and then a box so nothing gets to them. And then I label it Toilet Bowl Cleaner so no one gets to them.”

  I chuckled quietly to myself at the thought of Rhonda furtively sneaking pieces of good chocolate out from under a cabinet and what her husband and sons would think if they ever caught her.

  Meanwhile, Ephy had ignored our conversation and chosen one of the chocolates. I watched as she first sniffed it then popped the whole thing in her mouth. She made a face as she chewed. I immediately felt insulted, even though I hadn’t tried the chocolates and didn’t know where they’d come from. She was the one who insisted on having one—it wasn’t my fault she didn’t like it.

  She swallowed it down, still making that face. If anything, she looked even more disgusted, which was really saying something.

  Then she coughed—a small, tight little cough.

  Her hand went to her chest.

  She looked at me with fear in her eyes before crumpling to the floor in a heap.

  Chapter 16

  I ran the two steps to her and dropped to the floor by her side. “Ephy!” I yelled. “Ephy!” It had only been a moment since she’d fallen, but she already looked frighteningly lifeless. I didn’t think people normally passed out that quickly from choking, but then again, how many people had I ever seen choke?

  I struggled to get her limp body into a sitting position so I could give her the Heimlich maneuver, but her torso kept bending over my hands.

  “Sammy, call 911!” Rhonda shouted as she ran around the counter and crouched down beside me. Together, we managed to sit Ephy up a little straighter and support her so that we could eject the piece of chocolate from her throat. It wasn’t working, though.

  Rhonda and I traded places so that I kept Ephy sitting up while Rhonda tried the Heimlich.

  Seeing Ephy from this angle made my stomach clench tighter in fear. Ephy’s eyes were still open wide, but they had a blank glassiness unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Her skin was even whiter than usual, and her lips had taken on a purple cast. “Harder! Harder!” I yelled at Rhonda.

  “I’m trying!” She leaned Ephy forward a little and smacked her hard on the back as though that might jostle the chocolate loose when the proper procedure hadn’t. I couldn’t blame Rhonda. I was getting tempted to stick my fingers down Ephy’s throat to see if I could reach the chocolate and scrape it out. I might have tried that out of sheer desperation if professional help hadn’t arrived just then.

  Ryan Leary, officer in the Cape Bay Police Department and Sammy’s boyfriend, ran through the door and came straight to where Rhonda and I were crouched down with Ephy. “Lay her down flat.”

  “She choked on a piece of chocolate,” I said as he grabbed her wrist in his right hand. After a moment, he dropped her wrist and grabbed the other one. He frowned, adjusted his grip, and waited again. He shook his head and looked at me and Rhonda. “Do either of you know CPR?”

  “Sort of,” I said, trying to remember the details of what I’d learned in the CPR class I’d taken back in high school.

  Fortunately, Rhonda’s skills were fresher than mine. “I’m certified.”

  “You do breaths and count. I’ll do compressions.” Ryan said something into the radio perched on his shoulder as they both moved into position. “Ready?” Rhonda nodded. He looked at his watch. “Okay, let’s go.” Ryan started pumping Ephy’s chest as Rhonda counted along. Wh
en she got to thirty, Ryan stopped, and Rhonda bent to breathe twice into Ephy’s mouth. Even I could see her chest rise and fall with the two breaths. If air was getting through to her lungs, that meant she hadn’t choked after all.

  Ryan and Rhonda were only a few rounds into their CPR when the paramedics arrived. Ryan rattled off a bunch of words that I took to mean something about Ephy’s condition as he and Rhonda stepped back to make room for the paramedics to take over for them.

  It was the second time in only a few months that I’d witnessed a scene like this, but it was no easier than it had been the first time. If anything, it was more upsetting this time around.

  As the paramedics did their work, Ryan guided Rhonda, Sammy, and me toward the back of the café. By some miracle, we’d been completely empty of customers when Ephy collapsed, so it was just the three of us and Ryan. “Mike’s on his way,” he said. “He’ll want to talk to you.”

  I wasn’t sure whether he meant just me or all three of us, but we nodded.

  Ryan looked towards the door apprehensively. He shifted his feet and rubbed his hands together. Sammy got up and put her arms around him. He hugged her back. I suddenly found myself desperately wishing Matt were there.

  Rhonda grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back. If Matt wasn’t there, at least my friends were.

  A blur of a man sprinted past the front windows and burst through the door. Mike looked at the body on the floor and the paramedics around it for a long few seconds then over at us. His eyes closed as he exhaled. He pressed his lips together then, after another moment, opened them again and became all business.

  Mike strode over to one of the paramedics who was standing to the side, talking on his radio. They spoke briefly in low tones that I couldn’t hear. Mike nodded a few times and then came over to us. I thought he would be as hard, brusque, and businesslike as ever, but something else was in his eyes as he walked over. He looked at each of our faces before he said anything, and then it was the last thing I would have expected.

  “I’m glad you’re all safe.” He looked from one of our faces to the next again, nodded, and pulled his notebook out of his pocket. He opened it with a flick of his wrist and clicked the end of his pen. “What do we know, Leary?”

  “Arrived on scene to find a female, early twenties, lying on the floor unconscious and unresponsive with no pulse. Fran and Rhonda were attempting the Heimlich maneuver. I—”

  “Wait,” Mike interrupted. “The Heimlich? Why?” He looked at me with an expression that wasn’t quite as judgmental as I expected but also not as sympathetic as I would have liked.

  “We thought she was choking,” I said, as if that weren’t obvious.

  It must have not been obvious to him because he looked exasperated as he repeated, “Why?”

  “She ate one of those chocolates over there right before she collapsed.” I moved to go get the box and paper to show him, but he put his arm out and stopped me.

  “No, don’t touch it.” He walked over there. “It’s this box? What’s this paper?” He used the end of his pen to turn the paper so he could read my name written in block letters across it.

  “That’s the paper it came wrapped in.”

  “Leary, get this all bagged up. We need it fingerprinted and tested for... everything.”

  Ryan nodded and headed for the door. Mike turned back to us. “So where did these chocolates come from?”

  I shook my head and shrugged. “Someone left them while we were busy.”

  “Someone? Who? Approximately what time?”

  I turned my hands palms up and looked at Rhonda and Sammy. They didn’t know any more than we did. “I don’t know. Sometime between nine and two is the best I can tell you on time.”

  He sighed with barely concealed frustration. I knew better than to take it personally.

  Another ambulance pulled up outside. The two paramedics who jumped out of the cab went around to the back and brought out a gurney. We watched them load Ephy onto it and roll her out to the ambulance, still trying to bring her back to life. As quickly as they’d arrived, they were gone.

  Mike went over to talk to the guy who appeared to be in charge while the couple of guys who were left picked up their gear. They exchanged a lot of nods and “uh-huhs,” and then the paramedics left.

  Ryan came in with a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags. He and Mike spoke quietly, then Ryan snapped on the gloves and started carefully putting the box of chocolates and its wrapping paper into the bags. Mike walked back over to us, looking subdued. “She have any allergies?” He jerked his head in the direction they’d taken Ephy.

  I could only shrug. “She never mentioned anything. Does that mean you think she had an allergic reaction?” I felt hope rise in my chest. If it was an allergic reaction, they could give her drugs and she’d be back on her feet in no time.

  Mike closed his notebook and put it back in his pocket, ignoring my question. “Look, I don’t have any reason why you can’t get back to work, but don’t go eating any food if you don’t know where it came from, okay? I’ll be in touch.” He headed for the door and waited while Ryan gave Sammy a quick hug goodbye.

  They left, and I turned to look at Sammy and Rhonda.

  Sammy had sat down at one of the tables and was holding her head in her hands. She looked paler than ever.

  Rhonda had her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her face was pinched and looked anxious.

  There was no way we could open back up.

  I dropped down into a chair. “You guys can go home. I can’t sit here and smile and serve people coffee this afternoon not knowing how Ephy is.”

  Rhonda gave me a look. “Fran, I think Ephy—I don’t think—” She stopped and blinked rapidly, looking like she was in pain.

  “Don’t.” I put my hand up in a signal to stop. “They were still working on her when they left. We don’t know anything.”

  Rhonda nodded.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Sammy said. “I don’t want to sit there alone and think about—” She waved her hand toward the area where Ephy had fallen. Her blue eyes filled up with tears.

  I was at a loss. I didn’t really want to be alone, either, but I knew I couldn’t function well enough to work. Matt would still be at the office, but at least I’d have Latte.

  Rhonda clapped her hands together. “Let’s go out and get something to eat.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “What did your mother always do when you had a bad day at school?”

  The sudden change of subject threw me for a loop, and I didn’t know how to answer.

  “She sat you down and fed you,” Rhonda said in her best mom-like tone of voice. “So let’s go get something to eat. It’ll take our mind off what happened, and we can talk. Now go get your purses, both of you.”

  I didn’t think either Sammy or I knew what else to do or had the emotional energy to argue, so we did as we were told and got our purses then headed out the door.

  I shuddered as I locked it behind me. People kept getting sick in my café, and it terrified me.

  Chapter 17

  We ended up sitting on the deck at a restaurant that had just opened up a couple of weeks before. It was the kind of place that came and went in a beachside town—open for a year or two then shuttered again when the owners realized that they hadn’t made enough from the tourist season to pay the rent through the winter. Some businesses made it, of course—mine was one of them—but they were more the exception than the rule.

  The restaurant we were sitting in was the third that had been in the building in the last ten years. It was a great location with a beautiful view that had tourists flocking to it during the season, but the same thing that made it successful was also what led to the restaurants’ downfall. Restauranteurs fell in love with the location and all the money they made from the tourists but forgot that we locals weren’t going anywhere just for a view we saw every day and that rent still had to be paid in the win
ter.

  In any case, the drinks and appetizers were good. Not that we were enjoying them much. It was hard to have an appetite when you’d just seen what we had.

  “She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Sammy asked, staring at the iced tea in front of her. She always had an aura of sweet innocence about her, but this sounded naïve even for her.

  Rhonda looked at me. I looked at the lobster lettuce wrap in front of me. I couldn’t get the sight of Ephy’s blue lips out of my mind. Even after all that CPR, she was still limp and blue when they carried her out.

  “Sammy, I don’t—” Rhonda started.

  Sammy cut her off with an imploring look. “Just say yes.”

  Rhonda met her eye and then looked down. “I really hope so.”

  “How is everything?” Our chirpy waitress had appeared beside us as we all stared at the table. “Everything tasting delicious?”

  I looked up at her, wondering how to explain that our plates were all untouched. As much as I was now worried about people eating the food at my café, I usually worried when they didn’t.

  Her cheery smile faltered slightly when she finally seemed to notice that none of us were eating. “Did I get your order wrong or something? It looks like you haven’t touched a thing!” She pulled out her notepad and started looking at what she’d jotted down.

  For some reason, I still couldn’t find the words to string together to explain that everything was right—we just weren’t in the mood to eat it.

  She looked up from her notepad with her lips pressed together as she scanned the table again. “Well, it looks like—”

  “Our friend just collapsed in front of us and had to get rushed to the hospital in an ambulance,” Rhonda said brusquely. “We’re just taking a minute to talk about that.” Leave it to Rhonda to take the situation in hand, I thought.