Pineapple Pirates: A Cozy Mystery Romance (Pineapple Port Mysteries Book 21) by Amy Vansant

Author:Amy Vansant [Vansant, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Mariska paced her living room with the phone at her ear.

“Now I can’t get Darla or Frank on the phone,” she huffed.

“Why are you trying to call Frank?” asked Bob.

“I thought he could tell me how Marty’s autopsy went. He could call and ask for me.”

“Right. I’m sure he wants to keep Cockamamie Investigations on the case.” Bob chuckled to himself. “That’s probably why he isn’t answering the phone.”

She glowered at him and ran through her phone until she found another number she thought could be useful. She dialed.

“Hello?” answered a young man’s voice.

“Hi, Deputy Daniel?” asked Mariska.

“Yes?”

“This is Mariska, Charlotte’s, uh, mother person?”

“Hi, Mariska. I know who you are. Is something wrong? Is Charlotte okay?”

Mariska thought it was cute how worried he sounded. He’d had a little crush on Charlotte since grade school.

“Oh, everything’s fine. Charlotte’s on her honeymoon. I’m actually, um, delivering a message.”

She was glad he couldn’t see her nostrils. They were flaring like crazy. She felt like a dog sniffing a steak on the table.

“For me? From Charlotte?” he asked.

“No. From Frank. He wanted to find out how that autopsy on Marty Fisher went.”

Mariska winced as silence fell. She saw Bob’s head shake and turned away before he said something and ruined all her plans.

“Uh, hold on, I’m looking for it,” he said.

She smiled.

Yes.

“Thank you. He wanted to know cause of death. Specifically, if it was poison.”

“Got it. Um...Yes. Ricin.”

“Ricin? What is that?”

“Poison. It’s what killed him.”

Mariska gasped. “Is that rice poisoning?”

Daniel hemmed.

“Ummmm…I don’t know. It says ricin.” He paused and added, “Why didn’t Frank call me?”

“Oh, he isn’t getting cell service, and he happened to be talking to Bob on a landline, so he asked if we could check for him,” said Mariska.

She was getting really good at lying.

“Don’t drag me into this,” muttered Bob behind her.

“Oh, okay,” said Daniel.

He was a sweet kid but not the questioning sort. He’d never been the brightest star on the sheriff’s chest.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No, that was it. Just checking up on Marty for Frank because he asked me to. Thank you.”

Mariska hung up.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she said.

“I can’t believe you’re taking advantage of that poor, trusting, dim-witted deputy.”

“It was one question.” She clapped her hands together with excitement. “Guess what.”

Bob stared at her.

“Guess what,” she repeated.

He continued to stare.

She sighed.

“What, Mariska?” she said, mimicking his baritone. “I’m glad you asked, Bob,” she continued in her own voice. “It’s the most amazing thing. Marty was poisoned.”

He grunted. “Fantastic.”

“See? That is interesting, isn’t it? Guess what poison it was.”

“Almonds?”

“No. Not almonds. Not even cyanide. It was rice.”

Frank twisted in his seat to look at her.

“He was poisoned with rice? He ate a bowl of bad pudding?”

She scowled. “No. Not that kind of rice. Wait...I think I have it wrong. Not rice. Risin. I have to look it up. Hold on.”

She hopped on her computer and made a few searches.

“Oh, here it is. I was spelling it wrong. Ricin. It’s a poison that comes from castor beans.”

“What are castor beans? Like castor oil?” Bob’s nose wrinkled.

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