Grady and I decided it would probably be best if we didn’t look for Candace together. Neither one of us wanted to hurt her any more than we already had. Not that Grady and I had actually decided on anything about us. We agreed to talk later … which was kind of brutal because we had been so close! But you know, Candace might be in mortal danger, so I guess I could let her have him for a little longer. She could have me, too, for that matter. I was serious about not letting her die on my watch.
On our way back downstairs, Grady put a call in to Amos to get a couple of uniforms out to Hemlock Estate to start a proper investigation. He also tasked Amos with finding out everything he could about Candace’s pen pal. If he was just out of prison, there was a good chance he was on parole. And if he was on parole, there was also a good chance that he had violated some of the conditions of his parole. If that was the case, Grady could bring him in for questioning.
Just before we made it back to the ballroom, Grady touched my elbow to get me to stop. “Does Rhonda have any idea where she might have been headed?”
“Not really, but Candace did say earlier that she wanted to go back to the party. Freddie and Rhonda are checking outside just to be sure she didn’t decide to go to the boathouse again trying to find you. She’s pretty out of it.”
“Okay, let’s split up and cover this room first. Tell everyone you can that we’re looking for her.”
“But won’t that tip off the murderer? What if it makes him or her panic?”
“It’s the best shot we have with Candace missing,” he said. “The more people looking for her the better. Maybe the murderer will run, and we’ll have time to get Candace safe.”
“Got it.”
I pushed my way through the crowd. The jazz band was really swinging now. It had to be getting close to midnight. The guests were louder too. There had to be a couple hundred people here now, all laughing, singing, dancing. Nobody seemed to have a clue what was going on. It didn’t help that someone had passed out noisemakers. Everything was feeling just a little bit surreal. Or maybe this is just what it was like being at a New Year’s party completely sober. Weird.
I tried spreading the word that I was looking for Candace, but I doubted that the message was really sinking in. Everyone was having too good of a time.
I had a bad feeling about this.
“Erica!”
I spun around.
Kit Kat and Tweety were elbowing their way through the crowd like a pair of white-haired juggernauts.
“What’s happening?”
Tweety swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath. “We know…”
“You know what?” I asked. “You know who started the rumors?”
“No,” Kit Kat said, shaking her head. “But we know … someone who does.”
“What? Who?”
Tweety grabbed my elbow, leading me toward the far side of the room. “We followed all the trails.” She paused to swallow. “They all lead back to the same person.”
“Tell me.”
“Betty Johnson,” she said, still struggling with her breath. “All the trails lead back to her.”
“But,” Kit Kat added, “she said someone else told her. And when we talked to that person—”
“Who? Where are you taking me?”
“To the bar,” Tweety said. She was the head of our awkward snake making its way through the crowd. “She wouldn’t tell us who started this whole mess. She said she wanted to tell you herself.”
“What? Who? Why?”
“Who knows?” Kit Kat said, hands on my back, pushing me forward.
Tweety yanked on my arm. “I think she just doesn’t want to be left out of the mix.”
When we finally got through the crowd, I spotted our destination.
The martini bar … although it kind of felt like it should be called the Dragon’s Den.
It was the nicest pop-up bartending station I had ever seen. I hadn’t really noticed it earlier because it was tucked far back into a corner—mainly because it needed a lot of room—but it was worth noticing.
Blue, red, green, yellow, and orange bottles glittered on the glass shelves. There was even a purple drink in a martini glass sitting on the counter. I had never seen so many colorful types of alcohol in my life.
Mrs. Watson was instructing a young man behind the counter on his stir-stick technique. He looked equal parts scared and confused.
I thought about stopping to text Freddie to tell him what was going on, but there wasn’t time. Not with Candace missing.
“Erica,” Mrs. Watson said as I approached. She gave my outfit a concerned once-over but was kind enough not to mention it. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of things earlier in the smoking room. Your mother’s fortune-telling has been a hit. Despite all obstacles.”
“She means Freddie,” Kit Kat whispered too loudly in my ear.
“She’s still mad he denied her grandbaby the crown,” Tweety added. Also too loudly.
I simultaneously elbowed both of them in the sides, launching myself a few steps closer to the bar.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Mrs. Watson asked. “I’m teaching Harold here how to make a beetini.”
“A beetini?”
“Don’t let the beets scare you. They’re wonderful for your health and very sweet.”
The thought of a beet martini did scare me though. It scared me very much. “Um, maybe a bit later.” I thought a moment about what to ask her first. Before we tackled all the rumors, I should probably check out the details of Chloe’s story. “Mrs. Watson, I know you were with my mother earlier, but have you been keeping an eye on the martini bar tonight?”
“Of course. I was just getting your mother settled. You know, making sure there wasn’t any trouble.” She arched a knowing eyebrow as she pinned me in her gaze. “Harold, be a dear and pass me the sweet vermouth and the agave nectar.”
The young man hopped to attention.
I placed my hands on the counter. “I know this is a long shot, but was there a really big, handsome man here earlier—someone from out of town—who might have ordered an apple martini or some other green drink?”
“No, but it’s funny that you should mention that,” she answered, dragging her attention completely away from the beetini.
“Funny how?”
“Well, let me start by saying, I’ve only made one apple martini tonight.” She looked over to Harold. “Have you made any green drinks?”
He shook his head quickly no.
“And Kit Kat and Tweety here were telling me that you wanted to know who started the rumors about Grady and Candace breaking up.”
I nodded.
“Well, it just so happens that the apple martini I made was for the same person who told me all about Candace’s concerns over Grady.”
I could feel my heart pulsing at my throat. “Who?”
When she told me, I immediately said, “That … that doesn’t make any sense. Why?” But even as I asked the question, thoughts were turning in my head, pieces were fitting together. I could see … I could see the why. Maybe …
But there were still so many things that didn’t make sense. Like how did Candace’s prison pen pal fit into this? Was he in on it? Or did he even know what he was doing when he gave her that drink?
Maybe …
No …
I suddenly remembered Jessica asking Freddie if Stanley had spent any time in the garage … and I had tripped on a container of antifreeze right outside the door of the kitchen! I knew windshield-wiper fluid was particularly dangerous around pets and children because of its sweet smell. Could someone have poisoned the drink that way? Mixed with alcohol the taste might not be noticeable. And Candace wasn’t a drinker. She wouldn’t know what it was supposed to taste like. There were so many people coming and going from the kitchen it was possible no one noticed. And the same person could have taken the glass from the garbage …
… the boathouse must have been Plan B after the poisoning failed.
And if the killer had been thorough enough to make a Plan B then there might still be a Plan C …
I quickly thanked Mrs. Watson for the information and left. I think she called after me, but my head was too full of thoughts to hear properly. I also didn’t know exactly where I was headed, but my feet seemed to have an idea. Kit Kat and Tweety hurried to follow.
“So what are you going to do?” Kit Kat asked, panting in her effort to keep up. “I mean it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They’re just rumors.”
“Yeah, I’ve been holding on to the belief that none of the things that have been happening tonight mean anything, but I have a horrible feeling that sticking to that belief is going to leave Candace dead.”
Tweety grabbed my wrist. Forcing me to a stop. By the look of concern on her face, I was guessing I was coming off a little weird. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t think all of this through and still look normal. “But Candace is safe, right?” she asked. “Rhonda’s with her.”
“And what about Grady?” Kit Kat chimed in.
“Yeah, I found him, but—” I got up on my toes trying to spot him in the crowd. “But no. Candace is missing. I’ll call Grady and—Frick! He lost his phone.” Or it was stolen. His phone was stolen to set him up for murder.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Find Candace. Fast.”
“We should split up,” Kit Kat said.
I nodded. “But don’t do anything else. We’re not confronting anyone. Find her. Then call me. That’s it.”
“Got it.”
“Just whatever you do, don’t leave her alone. And be safe.”
“Got it.” The twins hurried off.
Just then my phone buzzed. Freddie.
Any sign?
No.
She’s not outside. We’re coming in.
Right, but—
Just then someone caught my eye.
I didn’t finish the text.
I had spent so much of the night trying to track people down … and there, headed for the smoking room with my mother, was the very person I needed to have a word with. Someone who—if I was right—was the key to figuring out everything that had happened tonight.
I had to be sure.