“No, thank you. You can scam tourists but not me.”
I hadanother sandwich in my bag for Marius. It was getting cold as we walked quickly through the market.
“Voodoo dolls.”
“We should ask her for one of him but, like, a sex-doll version.” Zoe cackled.
“I don’t need a sex doll.”
“Why? Did you sleep with him?”
“No! He’s my lawyer. We’re not like that.”
Except for the dinner invitation and the cuddling on Main Street…
“What?” I asked Zoe.
“Ida saw you and told my grandmother,” Zoe said. “I think the entire town believes you and Marius are about to get married.”
“Santa’s balls. I can’t even buy a sandwich for the man who’s helping to clear my name without the rumor mill cranking up? Marius is being nice.”
“That blush says otherwise.”
“Actually, he’s being coerced by his aunt.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yes, that’s exactly it. He’s going to go back to New York City after the holidays and forget all about me.” I wrenched open the door to the café.
Marius was there next to the glass case, looking tastier than any of the cupcakes. He didn’t seem at all like someone who would buy a voodoo doll of my deceased husband.
He couldn’t be the killer, could he?
I did have terrible taste in men…
I smiled at him.
He didn’t return it.
“We received the revised toxicology report back.” He frowned. “With all the ingredients as requested. There’s a complication.”
18
MARIUS
“Idon’t understand.”
I ushered Emmie and Zoe into the kitchen storeroom for privacy and pulled out the paperwork I’d printed. “This”—I pointed—“is the report from a few days ago. From the cupcake Brooks allegedly was eating.”
“The cyanide cupcake,” Emmie confirmed.
“This one,” I said, “was from one of the other cupcakes in the box. I asked the lab to test for ingredients.”
“Egg, sugar, flour, butter.” Emmie frowned.
“But,” I added, “they also retested for toxins. And there was no cyanide in those cupcakes.”
“So?” Zoe shrugged. “That just means the murderer didn’t poison all the cupcakes.”
