There hadn’t been a chance for her to eat bad food since she’d gotten there.
Had there?
I walked past them all and headed to the bathroom that I’d seen them exit.
When I arrived it was to the sound of vomiting.
Maybe she had eaten something that had irritated her stomach?
“Crockett?” I called, closing the door behind me solidly before throwing the lock.
An answering expulsion of her stomach answered me.
“Crockett,” I said as I reached for one of the fancy towels next to the sink, wet it down, then used my pocketknife to open the far bathroom stall.
Once I had it open, I crouched down behind her and placed the cool towel against her neck.
“Something isn’t right,” she managed between gasps. “I feel awful.”
“What did you eat?” I asked.
A sick sort of ‘knowing’ was rocketing through me, and I wasn’t sure that I liked where my mind was headed.
“A molasses cookie that Belinda gave me that Melody brought for her. From some bakery in town, she said. They were good, but now my stomach hates me,” she whispered brokenly.
An anger like no other started to roll through me.
“Stay here,” I urged as I stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, her face against her arm that was resting against the dirty toilet seat.
I’d shower her off later.
For now, I needed to find out what was in those cookies.
Because there was something in them.
I knew it.
I just had to find out what.
When I came to the main room, Belinda was standing at the front of the room with her bouquet, watching the bathroom door worriedly.
I gave her a chin tilt and headed straight for her. Melody was leaning against a table looking pissed, and Danny was standing beside his father asking him questions that I couldn’t quite hear, but were obviously upsetting seeing as their father looked pissed, too.
When I arrived at the group, Nora looked at my face.
“She’s sick,” she said. “I told you.”
I looked away from her and looked at Melody.
“What kind of cookies did you give Belinda?” I asked.
Melody went slightly pale, stiffening minutely.
“Umm,” she hesitated. “O-ones that were made at a local deli. They’re called ‘bridal’ cookies. I thought they were fitting for today.”
With the amount of detail she’d just given, on the fly as well, I would’ve believed her. But since Juniper and her band of misfits she called sisters lied to each other on the regular, I’d become sort of a connoisseur when it came to lying.
I’d had to read between the lines, so to speak, and I’d realized rather quickly that Melody was lying. Not only was she not meeting my gaze any longer, but she was also now clenching her fists so hard that her knuckles were whitening.
“Which deli?” I pushed. “This could be important.”
Melody licked her lips. “Um, It’ll Be Deli.”
“It’ll Be isn’t open on Saturdays,” Danny supplied. “Are you sure it was that one?”
Melody looked at him with annoyance. “Yes, I’m sure it was that one. They have new operating hours.”
“Melody…” Murphy started, but surprisingly, it was Rockett that spoke up.
I hadn’t even seen her arrive. I’d been so focused on Melody that I hadn’t paid attention to my surroundings.
“What are you talking about, Mom? You made those just today. Then refused to let me have any,” Rockett asked. “Then the maid complained about how much of a mess you made and ate one of the cookies. She had to leave early because she was puking. I think those cookies you’re thinking of that you bought were the ones for your book club. But they weren’t called bridal cookies. They were called Ranger Cookies. The ones with the raisins in them that were disgusting.”
Melody opened her mouth to continue to lie, but surprisingly it was Nora who spoke up this time.
“Either you tell us what in the fuck is going on, Melody, or I’m going to kick your ass right here in the middle of the entirety of Souls Chapel,” Nora growled in frustrated rage.
“It had some sort of syrup in it,” Rockett said. “Alpaca… paca…”
“Ipecac,” I supplied helpfully.
Rockett snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Yes! That!”
My gaze switched to Melody once again. “You just fed her cookies that induced vomiting. How much did you give her?”
Because that was important. In small doses, it was possibly safe. In large, it wasn’t.
Melody looked positively green now. “I… it was a very small dose. I made sure it was safe.”
With that, I’d had enough.
Because, in all the time that Melody was being questioned about her antics, not once had Crockett’s father spoken up in defense of her. No, he looked bored. Disconnected.
“You are no longer welcome at the store,” I said to the two of them, making sure to give both eye contact to let them know I was talking about them. “You are no longer welcome within fifty feet of her. If I find out that you are within fifty feet of her, you will regret it. Don’t come knock on her door. Don’t walk past her house. Don’t talk to Danny to tell her something through him. Same goes for Nora. You are no longer welcome in her life.”
Murphy 2.0 narrowed his eyes. “You can’t tell me that I can’t see my own kid.”
“Is she your kid?” I challenged him.
“Yes!” he cried.
“Then why the fuck haven’t you acted like it?” I questioned. “Why is she telling me things that you and that horrid bitch you call a wife have done to her over the years, and cries her fuckin’ eyes out after she does?”
Murphy 2.0 snapped his mouth shut.
“Out of everyone here, you know the only person that has shown her unconditional love? Her grandfather. A fuckin’ felon. What does that say about y’all?” I wondered.
With that, I walked back to the bathroom and was thankful to see Murphy already making his way outside.
When he arrived at the car with me on his heels, he opened the door for her and looked on as I deposited her passed-out body in the front seat.
“You know how to drive a motorcycle?” I asked.
Murphy grinned. “Once upon a time. But I don’t trust myself on it much anymore. Why?”
I looked at the passed-out woman in the front seat. “I wanted to bring her somewhere in town and give her some meds. Help her recover faster. Thought it’d be easier if I had you go home.”
“I’ll take him home,” Danny said quietly. “And I can bring your bike wherever you need me to.”
I looked back to see that he, Belinda, and Nora had followed us out.
Murphy gave him a disgusted look. “I don’t ride in foreign cars.”
“I have a Ford. Made in the USA, Murphy. You won’t burst into flames if you get into it,” Nora teased.
“But it’s a minivan.” Murphy looked even more disgusted.
I didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation.
Instead, I took Crockett to Lynn’s house where I kept a small room in his pool house as my office.