Chapter 31

I walked Otis down to his waiting car and sent a text to Ted the minute he drove off.

 

I got you the part. You’ll get the offer from Otis as soon as I get the paperwork on the gowns.

 

That part was non-negotiable. He wasn’t going to weasel out of giving me those receipts, even if Otis somehow weaseled out of giving him the part.

Ted’s response was immediate and effusive. I’d never seen the word “awesome” used so many times in so few lines. I stayed out on the sidewalk in front of the Palace, thinking long and hard before I sent him the next message.

 

If you’re smart you’ll turn down the part.

 

I’d warned him. My conscience was clear. Or clear enough.

But Ted had never been smart.

  

When I came down to the lobby before the seven-thirty show I found Callie and Brandon buried in their phones behind the concessions stand. When they heard me on the balcony stairs and looked up I could tell something was wrong.

“What happened?” I asked. “Is it Kristy?” I rushed down the remaining stairs.

Callie shook her head. She held up her phone, but I couldn’t see what was on it until I got closer. “It’s awful,” she said. “Two kids were killed while they were playing the game.”

She handed me her phone, but I didn’t need to read. Brandon supplied the details.

“They were with a group following a clue, but they got it wrong,” he said. “They followed some train tracks into a tunnel, and when a train came they couldn’t all get out of the way.”

“They were eleven years old,” Callie said.

I sank onto a stool at the counter. “How horrible.” I shuddered. “Where was it?”

“Someplace outside Philadelphia.”

“Are they stopping the game?” I asked. “They have to now, don’t they?”

“That’s what everyone’s saying.” Brandon shrugged, just as his phone buzzed. He checked it. “Wait. Tommy and S’s companies just released a joint statement.”

The two of them went face-down into their screens. I pulled mine out of my bag, but Brandon was already muttering as he read the statement.

“It says their thoughts and prayers are with the families—”

Callie snorted derisively.

“Wait, listen to this,” Brandon said. “‘As truly heartbreaking as this incident was, the fact is that the app is rated twelve and up.’” He read a moment longer before looking up. “They’re saying the kids shouldn’t have been playing.”

“They’re, like, blaming the parents,” Callie agreed.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Not, like, outright,” she said, still reading. “But it’s implied.”

“That’s disgusting. They can’t get away with this. They have to stop that game.”

“Um, I don’t think they will,” Brandon said. He held it up his phone for me to see why.

“A team in Argentina found the third coin. It’s worth ten million dollars.”

  

“It’s despicable,” I said, sinking into the soft leather of Hector’s front seat. It was half an hour later and Hector had picked me up for dinner.

“It’s been all over the news,” he said, pulling away from the curb. “They reported another half a million people have downloaded the app since the third coin was found.”

“I wonder how many parents have deleted it from their kid’s phones.”

“According to the news, the companies are recommending that parents play the game with their children,” he said. “To provide a level of supervision.”

“Do those companies seriously just get to dust off their hands and walk away?” I asked. “I can’t imagine what those parents are going through.”

“Hell, I would think,” Hector said.

My phone pinged with a message. It was from Abby.

 

Nora, I’m so sorry I had to run off today. But I’d like to talk. Can you meet me for coffee in the morning? How about that place across from the Palace? Around eight?

 

“It looks like I’m having coffee with Abby in the morning,” I told Hector, sending her a reply.

“I thought you saw her this afternoon.” He took a right on Divisadero.

“I did, just for a minute, but when Monica and I got back from visiting Kristy at the hospital Abby was gone. She told one of the guys at the shop that there was some emergency on her farm.”

“She has a farm?”

“According to Monica, it’s a little family place up near Petaluma where Abby grows all the organic herbs and botanicals she mixes in with her concoctions. Hey, where are we going?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said, gliding into a parking place across the street and down the block from the Potent Flower. “It depends on where that car goes.” He nodded toward a light blue Toyota across the street.

I looked from the car to him. “Whose car is that?”

“Earlier today you said something about how if you were in danger, so was everyone who had been in the shop that day. That got me thinking. Who else had been in the shop that day? Who was working? Who were the other customers?”

“Excellent questions. So whose car is that?”

Hector grinned. “His name is Adam Bennett, and he’s been working at the shop for a little under two months. He was working the day you, Abby, and Kristy met S and Tommy,” he said. “In fact, he rang up S’s sale, and based on the video footage from the store, he spent more than a little time with S in the shop.”

“Do I want to know how you saw the video footage?”

“Why? Do you think I stole it from the police evidence locker?”

“Did you?”

“I might have. Or I might have asked our friend Monica if I could have a look.”

“Oh.” I was irrationally disappointed that he’d done something so tame.

“In any case,” Hector continued. “I haven’t had the time to look into everyone who was there, but I began with Adam Bennett. Would you like to know why we’re waiting to follow him tonight?”

“I’m very curious,” I said.

He gave me a look that reminded me strongly of Cary Grant, in one of his I-know-something-nobody-else-knows-and-I’m-enjoying-it-immensely moods. Which was interesting, because I’ve always thought Hector leaned a little more toward Clark Gable than Cary Grant.

He revealed his secret. “Adam Bennett has made three substantial cash deposits to his savings account in the past ten days.”

“Three deposits?” I stared at him. “Deposits like payments for three poisonings?”

“It’s an interesting coincidence, isn’t it?” Hector nodded toward the shop. “There he is, right on time.”

The guy who had given me Abby’s message earlier in the day was just leaving the Potent Flower. He was one of Monica’s salesclerks, in his early twenties with close-cropped blond hair and a wide-ranging assortment of tattoos. He nodded at the security guard and went down the street toward the blue car. Hector started his engine.

“What are we doing?” I asked. “Are we following him?”

“We are,” Hector said. “I’ve got sandwiches, snacks, and a thermos of coffee in the back seat. I know I offered to take you for dinner, but…”

“We’re on a stakeout,” I realized.

“Technically, we’re on a tail.” Hector checked for oncoming traffic before pulling out and making a swift U-turn, winding up a few cars behind Adam. “Once he gets wherever he’s going we’ll be on a stakeout.” He shot me a look. “This is our first official date. I wanted it to be special.”

  

“So we’re dating.”

Hector plucked the bag of potato chips from my hand. “I certainly hope so. I don’t share my mesquite barbeque chips with just anyone.”

“I feel very special,” I told him. “I hope you don’t regret it when you see all the crumbs I’ve gotten in your car. Just out of curiosity, if we’re dating now, what have we been doing for the past six months?”

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’ve been practicing admirable self-restraint.”

I laughed.

We were parked in front of a ramshackle Victorian in the lower Height. We’d been there for about twenty minutes, so if Adam was at all consistent we could expect him to emerge soon.

“There he is,” I said.

Hector handed the chips to me and started the car. We followed the blue Toyota for about five minutes, until he parked in front of another house, this one on Grove in Hayes Valley.

“I don’t get it,” I admitted, watching the young man lope up the stairs. “I don’t know what I expected from a possible poisoner. Maybe that he’d lead us to his secret arsenic lab somewhere?”

“That would be great,” Hector said. “Although the odds were probably against it.”

“Understood. But this is the fourth place he’s stopped at tonight. I thought at the very least he’d meet up with a group of friends to play the game or something. But he doesn’t even have his phone out. What’s he up to?”

Hector turned to me. “Seriously?”

“What? You’re saying you know?”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“What are you seeing that I’m not? Is he our poisoner?”

“It’s seeming less and less likely,” Hector said. “I’m pretty sure he’s a pot dealer.”

“Sure. That’s his job. Although Monica frowns at the word ‘dealer.’”

“Right, but I think he’s delivering it.”

“No,” I told him. “Monica’s shop doesn’t—Oh!” I grabbed Hector’s arm when I got it. “He’s stealing pot from the shop and selling it.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Oh,” I said again, deflating. “So the three cash deposits may not have been in payment for poisonings.”

“Possibly not.”

I let go of Hector’s arm, somewhat reluctantly. “At least we can let Monica know what he’s up to.”

“True.” He put his hand on his arm where I’d touched it.

“And, to be fair,” I said, “this may be a bust as a stakeout, it’s still an exceptional first date. I mean, you did give me my choice of sandwiches.”

“I am nothing if not a gentleman,” he said, a glint of something that made me shiver in his eye.

“You certainly are,” I agreed. “Chivalrous, even.” I looked out the window, humming a tune.

“Thank you,” Hector said. “Although I’m feeling something less than gentlemanly at the moment.” He shifted to face me. “Have I told you how good you look tonight?”

In point of fact, he hadn’t. I’d kind of thought the heels and the clothes and the lipstick that I’d worn for the Otis meeting might have registered with Hector, but he hadn’t said a thing when he’d picked me up. I stopped humming long enough to answer.

“I thought you didn’t notice.”

“I notice everything.”

The car was suddenly very warm. I started humming again.

“What’s that tune?” he asked.

“I think it’s our song,” I told him. “It’s from Swing Time.”

“Our song is something I don’t know from a movie I haven’t seen?”

“If you haven’t seen it you have no one to blame but yourself. It’s been playing since Tuesday.”

He grinned. “I’ve been busy. Why is it our song?”

I started singing, very softly. “A fine romance, with no kisses. A fine romance, my friend, this is…”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Hector said.

“Oh?”

“Nobody said anything about no kisses.”

I have no idea when Adam Bennett left the building.