APOCALYPSE MEOW by KEANE ZARA

Author:KEANE, ZARA [KEANE, ZARA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beaverstone Press
Published: 2021-05-25T04:00:00+00:00

11

I nudged Angel to the side and moved to the bed. A dark-haired man in his forties lay fully clothed on top of the bed covers. Everything about him screamed average. Average height, average weight, average looks. Even his bland gray suit fit into the blink-and-you-miss-it category.

I picked up his wrist and checked for a pulse. As I’d known the instant I set eyes on him, and confirmed when I’d smelled the familiar bitter almond scent, there was no sign of life. I turned to the others. “He’s been dead at least an hour. Possibly longer. Rigor mortis is already starting, but that ties in with cyanide poisoning.”

Angel swayed in the doorway, her face contorted into a mask of horror. “No way. Not a second stiff.”

Lenny, who was more used to encountering dead bodies, slid the room’s only chair beneath her backside before she hit the ground. “Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths.”

My cousin obeyed. When she’d recovered enough to speak, she straightened and returned her attention to the body on the bed. “I don’t get it. He was alive when I brought up his soup. And if the soup was dodgy, then why aren’t more guests dead?”

“Don’t tempt fate.” Lenny’s voice was grim-reaper dour. He patted Angel on the shoulder and then stepped over to the bed. Expressionless, his eyes skimmed the corpse for clues. “Dead at least an hour, you say?” He checked his watch. “It’s eight fifteen now. So that puts his time of death at approximately seven fifteen.”

My gaze clashed with his and I tasted bile. “That’s when Haakon declared Mona dead.”

“Couldn’t that be a coincidence?” Angel’s voice was steadier now, regaining her natural confidence. “Even if both their soup bowls were poisoned, would they have eaten at the same time? It was around ten to seven when I brought up Mr. Richards’s tray.”

I stood back and surveyed the room. The tray lay on the vanity table next to the window. I sidled past Lenny and went to take a closer look. When Angel had picked up the tray in the kitchen, I hadn’t paid much attention, but it had included a soup bowl, bread basket, butter, and a glass of whiskey. “The spoon’s clean,” I remarked. “And so’s the knife. I don’t think he touched his meal. How many pieces of bread did you give him, Angel?”

“Four slices. He asked for four when we discussed me bringing up a tray.”

“Then they’re all present and accounted for.” I drew back and checked the nightstand. “He has a cup beside the bed, next to his whiskey glass.”

“Coffee.” Angel got to her feet. “I brought him up a cup before I started preparing dinner.”

I picked my way to the other side of the bed, stepping over Quibbles, who was shredding a pair of bedroom slippers. When I reached the nightstand, I leaned down to sniff the coffee cup. Then I did the same with the whiskey glass. “I think the cyanide was in one of his drinks.

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