Firebrand

By DelSheree Gladden

What’s worse than getting dragged into a murder investigation because you tried to help a friend?

Answer: Getting dragged into a murder investigation, drug ring, and criminal syndicate because someone mistakes you for a friend of your most despised coworker.
When Eliza sees the man dead on the floor of Saul’s Diner, she’s more annoyed than scared. Until they all realize the man’s death wasn’t caused by a heart attack and Queen Bee Danielle blames Eliza’s cooking. Fit to be tied, Eliza is determined to let Officer Gordon figure out who really killed the guy and put her energy toward not getting kicked out of culinary school after a reporter prints Danielle’s spiteful accusations.

But Eliza is Eliza, and staying out of things never works out quite the way she expects. When she is somehow mistaken for a friend of Danielle’s by the people who actually killed the guy in the diner, she quickly finds herself up to her eyeballs in creepy fish, a burgeoning drug ring, scary criminals who like to put black bags over people heads before they kidnap them, and baking a three tier birthday cake at the last minute for someone she doesn’t dare refuse.

Eliza has never hated Danielle more, but helping her is the only way to save herself. After that, Danielle is fair game.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DelSheree Gladden
• Release date: Aug 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370177882

DelSheree Gladden

DelSheree Gladden was one of those shy, quiet kids who spent more time reading than talking. She didn't speak a single word for the first few months of preschool. Her fascination with reading led to many hours spent in the library and bookstores, and eventually to writing. She wrote her first novel when she was sixteen years old, but spent ten years rewriting before it was published.Native to New Mexico, DelSheree and her family spent several years in Colorado before returning to northern New Mexico. When not writing novels, you can find DelSheree reading, hiking, sewing, playing with her dogs, and working with other authors.DelSheree has several bestselling young adult series and has hit the USA Today Bestseller list twice as part of box sets. DelSheree also has contemporary romance, cozy mystery, and paranormal new adult series. Her writing is as varied as her reading interests.

Book preview

1: Sinking Feeling

I glared at the plates as they disappeared from the order window. Or, more accurately, I glared at the person who had removed them. Danielle flashed me a venom-laden smile before turning away. The temptation to throw something at the back of her head was so hard to resist.

Let it go, Eliza, Saul muttered.

That was the only advice he ever offered up for dealing with Danielle. He called her a queen bee. Everyone else called her much worse. She dumped those plates back through the window on purpose.

Saul declined to comment.

"That’s the third time tonight I’ve had to remake an order because she accidentally knocked the plate back through the window. Not to mention the food that was on the grill which she also ruined, I pointed out. Don’t you care that she’s wasting food?"

He turned away shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Clearly, Saul wasn’t going to do anything about Danielle. It was up to me, as usual.

What’d you do that’s got her so pissed off anyway? Saul asked.

Who says I did anything?

Giving me a knowing look, he waited for a response.

Grunting in annoyance, I turn my attention back to the burgers on the grill. She found out Sean invited me to his uncle’s cabin along with a bunch of other people. She’s acting like the two of us are going away for some romantic weekend. Which is stupid. Sean’s made it perfectly clear that I’m way too much trouble for him. We are strictly friends.

Saul shook his head. "Danielle used to be the one he invited to the cabin, and it was a romantic getaway for them."

I scoffed. Romantic? First off, I couldn’t imagine Sean actually being romantic. Second, Puck was coming. That thought inspired all kinds of mixed up emotions. Puck was handsome and fun and into me. If anything remotely romantic was going to happen for me out in the woods, it wouldn’t be with Sean. That was almost certainly not going to be the case, regardless. Puck was a player. Sort of. A nice guy, sure, but a risk…and not the kind of distraction I needed while trying to survive one of the country’s toughest culinary schools while avoiding my dangerous past catching up with me.

Danielle will cool off. Ignore her. Saul said that last part a bit more firmly than usual. He knew I came up with creative ways to ruin the meal she took home after work each night, and had never objected before. I wondered why this time he was bothering to dip his toe into our ongoing battle.

Before I could puzzle it out, a crash sounded from the dining room. It was followed up by several gasps and one startled shriek of fear. Saul groaned. I held my breath, expecting the worst. Since coming to Manhattan, I had been accused of stealing evidence in a murder investigation by a corrupt cop and been dragged into a human trafficking case by one of my culinary school classmates. Life in the big city had been anything but calm or safe. I’d had more guns pointed at me in the last month and a half than most people would see in an entire lifetime. Even the smallest hint of danger or unwelcomed excitement put me on edge.

I held my spatula out in front of me, as though it had some shielding potential. Saul grumbled his way toward the dining room to investigate. I didn’t move a muscle until he shouted, Someone call 911!

Damn it! What now?

I snatched my phone out of my pocket and dialed the three numbers as I forced myself to leave the kitchen and enter the dining area. It probably said something about as me as a person that I was more annoyed than concerned by the man slumped halfway out of the booth with his food spilled all over the floor. I’d hit my max of drama in this city about a week after I got here. Why was it so hard to just get through school without craziness dogpiling on you every five seconds?

Instantly, I felt terrible for putting my own sanity and peace of mind over this poor guy’s health. I realized then that the guy’s health was irrelevant. He wasn’t choking or having a heart attack. His frozen face and stiff posture sent a chill through me. He was dead.

It had damn well better be of natural causes, I thought uncharitably as I tapped send and completed the call. Looking away from the man, I tried to pass off the weird feeling I had that said this wasn’t going to be a simple case, but something didn’t seem right about the way he’d fallen.

I waited through the standard what’s your emergency message from the 911 operator and tried to push aside any thoughts of foul play I responded.

My name is Eliza Carlisle. I work at Saul’s Diner, and we just had a man collapse in the dining room. I think he’s…dead.

I’m sending paramedics to your location right now. Have you checked for a pulse? the woman asked.

My boss just did, I said. Judging by the shake of Saul’s head, my initial guess was spot on. I crossed my fingers my second guess wouldn’t be. He can’t find a pulse, I told the operator. He’s not breathing, and he’s very…still.

The operator hesitated a moment before continuing. Is there anyone on the premises who is trained in CPR?

I really wasn’t sure, but when I turned to ask Saul, I realized he’d already begun compressions. My boss already started, I said.

I knelt down, thinking the operator might want to talk to Saul since he was the one trying to save the guy, but something caught my eye before I could offer to give him the phone. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the dead man. There was something on his mouth. Saul stopped compressions and moved to give the man a rescue breath, but I grabbed the back of his shirt on instinct and held him back.

Glancing back at me in confusion, Saul started to say something, but I pointed at the man’s mouth. What is that?

What is what? the operator asked.

I’d forgotten she was still on the line. Even after realizing she was still listening, I spoke to Saul instead of her. There’s this weird white powder at the corners of his mouth. It almost looks like artificial sugar, but…

The consistency isn’t right for artificial sweetener, Saul said.

He stood and stepped over to the table, scanning the mess for some clue. His gaze fixed on something I couldn’t see. Curious, but hoping with everything I had that it wasn’t anything worthy of police involvement, I stood and stepped over to the table as well. Nothing stood out at first. It wasn’t until Saul pointed at an open sugar packet lying on the table next to a blueberry muffin that I even noticed the bit of trash. Even then, I wasn’t sure why it had caught his attention.

We don’t carry that brand, Saul said, and that doesn’t look like sweetener.

Are you sure? I asked.

He nodded, his mouth turning down in a deep, worried drown.

"Do not touch the powder," the 911 operator said in a way that made me think she’d already repeated herself several times.

Yeah, I replied dumbly.

Emergency services are on their way. Do not touch the victim or any of the powder. Back away from the victim, please.

Laying my hand on Saul’s arm, I gently urged him back from the dead man. I couldn’t help hoping we were wrong and it was just sugar, but deep down I knew it wasn’t. I knew because I had the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’d had the first moment I saw them carting Ms. Sinclair off in a body bag, and the moment Rapha said his sister hadn’t arrived at the airport as planned. Something was very, very wrong. Wrong enough that the police were going to ask questions and take statements and start pointing fingers at suspects. I had the distinct, sinking feeling I was going to be one of those people.

2: Join the Club

Detective Gordon? I asked when I saw him walk into the diner. A pair of paramedics rushed past him to the body, but I kept my focus on Gordy. Is this actually in your precinct or does anything involving my name send up some sort of Bat Signal?

I wasn’t alone in getting pulled into things I had nothing to do with. Though, as my escapades were more accidental than anything, Detective Gordon getting roped into my messes were more philanthropic in nature. He was a friend of Baxter’s and seemed to have trouble saying no to people in need.

Smirking, Gordy walked over to me and said, "This is actually my precinct, for once. If I’d known you worked within the boundaries, I would have requested a transfer."

Screwing my nose up, I said, Whatever. You sent officers to protect me here. You knew where I worked.

A startled expression blossomed on Saul’s face. What? Why were there officers protecting you?

That simple question got Danielle’s hackles up. Did you seriously not see her on the news?

The news? For what? If I’m not working, I’m in bed by the time the news comes on. Saul seemed genuinely confused, which answered a few of my questions on why he’d never brought up my infamous fifteen seconds of notoriety.

Don’t you have a smart phone? she demanded. It was the top story for a week!

Saul shrugged. I have a flip phone.

"You are so old!" Danielle spat. She spun away and stomped over to the bar, glaring at the dead body on the floor between us.

Saul looked offended. I’m not that old. He turned to me. Am I that old?

Patting his shoulder, I shook my head. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how old Saul was. He was one of those guys who had a timeless look, where he could be anywhere between thirty and sixty and I wouldn’t have been surprised. Like Gerard Butler. I sighed. I’d much rather ponder Gerard Butler than a corpse.

Eyeing Danielle warily, Gordy said, Is she done? Can we address the body at our feet? I got an alert on the way over not to touch the body and wait for the CDC to show up.

His questions drew all of our attention to the unfortunate diner. Masked and gloved, one of the two paramedics checked for a pulse, checked the dead guy’s airway, then one of the paramedics shook his head and pulled back as he eyed the white powder. Gordy followed his gaze. His eyes narrowed and he stepped forward to speak with the paramedics.

Any idea on cause of death…or what that powder might be? He said that last part quietly, probably to keep the other diners from hearing and freaking out. I cringed, thinking we’d likely already let that cat out of the bag when I first saw the powder and mentioned it to Saul.

The unusual posing of the body suggests some sort of paralysis. Petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes indicate asphyxiation, but his airway is clear as far as I can tell. The paramedic shook his head. The powder…I’ll leave that to someone else. I was instructed to keep everyone clear until someone from the Centers for Disease Control arrives and assesses the scene.

Same here, Gordy said.

Both paramedics stood, leaving their bags on the floor at their feet and surveying the nearby diners and staff. The second paramedic addressed everyone. Did anyone else come in contact with the victim?

Saul hesitantly raised his hand. I tried CPR.

Linette, the other early evening waitress, jabbed Danielle in the side. What? Danielle snapped. I didn’t touch him!

"You delivered his food, though, and I think you did touch him when he first collapsed."

Glaring at the other woman, Danielle stabbed her hand into the air and narrowed her eyes at the paramedic. He sighed and approached her. It was Danielle’s loss, because he was actually really cute, and probably would have been more than happy to check her out if she weren’t such a screechy witch about everything. God forbid he try to keep her from potentially dying.

Left alone with Gordy, I subtly moved closer to him. Do you know what the powder might be?

He shrugged, but it looked forced. Hopefully just some weird sugar he brought with him. Natural or something. Who knows?

But if it’s not?

Gordy frowned. Then it’s likely nothing good and this case is going to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

And there went my hopes for not getting into trouble.

A taller man with a darker complexion than Gordy’s ruddy look stepped up next to him. Keeping his voice low, he said, I called in for backup to take witness statements and contain the scene until things are figured out. So far no one’s panicking, but… He shrugged.

Gordy nodded. Thanks, Spence.

He turned and walked back toward the door, as though expecting someone, while the pit in my stomach deepened. Linette shuffled up next to me, cautiously eying Gordy before asking, Should we cover him with something? I think it’s creeping people out that he’s just lying there like that.

Gordy shook his heads. Not until the scene is processed. We don’t want to take any chances with contaminating anything.

Linette’s face paled. You really think this wasn’t just a heart attack or something?

Gordy’s mouth firmed into a stern line. I can’t say.

Her hand reached for mine and I didn’t hesitate to take it. I really did feel bad for the guy, but I couldn’t help worrying more about the rest of us with the way things were looking. I glanced over at Saul and Danielle as they were being checked by the paramedics. Danielle was scowling as the cute guy listened to her breathing, but Saul looked worried as the other paramedic rubbed a long cotton swab over his hands.

All heads turned toward the diner entrance when the bell rang. Suddenly, Gordy wasn’t next to me anymore. I felt unreasonably unprotected and clung to Linette even more. A handful of people carrying what looked like big tackle boxes and wearing windbreakers with CDC printed on the back filed into the little diner. The leader, a woman with an air of no nonsense authority, glanced around in search of her equal. Gordy stepped up to the plate.

Detective Gordon, he said before extending his hand.

She shook it, saying, Carrie Worthland. Where’s the substance?

Gordy gestured toward the dead guy lying in plain sight. Carrie Worthland nodded and said, Please clear the area and don’t allow anyone to leave…as a precaution. Then she and her crew went to work. The other diners all started to get considerably more uneasy as the CDC people donned enough protective gear to qualify them for parts in some sort of post-nuclear meltdown movie. No one got in their way as they scooped up samples of the white powder, tested it in various ways, checked the body for signs of whatever it was they were expecting to find, and finally began to wrap everything up.

Worthland carefully extracted herself from all of her protective gear and left the others to finish cleaning up and doing whatever else they needed to do. I wasn’t the only one who flinched when she strode over to Gordy, who I was purposely hovering next to. Concern played on her features as she considered what she was about to say.

We don’t think it’s ricin or anthrax, she said quietly, but we’ll need to take the samples back to our labs for testing to be sure. Judging by the rapid onset of death and the state of the body, I expect the lab results to concur.

Gordy blew out a breath, but wasn’t completely relieved. What do you think it is?

Biotoxin of some sort. Paralytic and fast acting. That narrows the list, but we’ll have to run some tests to be sure. She shook her head. My guys will take care of the substance, but I can’t guarantee cleanup won’t compromise collecting further evidence.

Waving off her warning, he said, Do what you need to do.

She nodded as though she hadn’t expected anything different as a response. We’ll want a full list of everyone in this building and they all need to be given instructions to contact us if they start experiencing symptoms. The two who came into contact with the victim, she said, waving in the general direction of Danielle and Saul, will be transported to the hospital for observation and tests.

Are they okay? I demanded.

Worthland’s gaze darted down to mine before going back to Gordy’s with a questioning look. Staff, he told her. She’s friends with those two.

She nodded. Neither one seemed to come into direct contact with the substance, but we’re taking every precaution.

Apparently done with both me and Gordy, she turned and went back to her crew to supervise their cleanup efforts. The bell above the diner door rang again and several uniformed officers stepped into the already over-filled dining area. The last one in took up position directly in front of the door, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to let anyone through any time soon. That was when everyone started freaking out.

Gordy abandoned me to help his partner take control of the panicking diners. Everyone wanted to know what was going on, were they in danger, when they could go home, and what happened to the dead guy. It seemed to take forever before they got the crowd quieted down enough that they could start taking statements and getting contact info from everyone.

Even though I watched everything unfold, I was still startled when a young officer suddenly appeared in front of me. Can I have your name, miss?

What?

Your name, for the witness statement.

I didn’t actually see anything. I was in the kitchen. I work here.

He jotted that down without taking his gaze from me. I still need your name.

I wanted to tell him that the police already had my name and address and all the personal information he could ever want on me, but I supposed that probably wouldn’t be terribly helpful to him at the moment and sighed. Eliza Carlisle.

And you work here?

Yeah, I’m the fry cook.

How long have you been employed here?

Unsure of why that could possibly matter, I answered all the same. Since the beginning of September.

And did you see the victim prior to him collapsing?

No. Saul and I were in the kitchen. We heard a crash and a couple people gasp and yell, then Saul went out and, a minute or two later, he yelled for somebody to call 911. That’s when I came out to the dining area and saw him.

Do you remember what he ordered?

I stared at him dumbly. What?

His meal. Do you remember what he ordered?

No, I said, irritated by the stupid question. The tickets don’t come in with names and descriptions. I have no clue what any of these people ordered. I just make what’s on the tickets and put it up for the waitresses to deliver. Did he not understand how restaurants worked?

So he didn’t request any special sweeteners along with his meal?

Bristling at the indication that I or anyone else who worked here had anything to do with this guy’s death, I folded my arms across my body and glared at him. No.

I have to ask, he said with a shrug.

I scowled at him, though I knew he was only doing his job. Whatever he was going to ask next was interrupted by Danielle’s shrieking.

Are you seriously suggesting I had anything to do with this? The officer taking her statement winced at the high pitch and anger in her voice. He pleaded with her to keep her voice down, but there was no containing the Queen Bee when she went into rant mode. "I have no idea where that packet came from! How dare you suggest I gave it to him! What possible reason would I have for poisoning some random stranger? This is ridiculous! I want to talk to a real cop! I had nothing to do with this! She’s the one who made his food!"

And suddenly, all eyes were on me. If there hadn’t been so many witnesses, I honestly might have strangled her. As it was, I settled for seething and clenching my hands into fists as I glared holes into her pretty little head.

She’s always screwing up my food at night, Danielle continued to rant. "She’s the worst fry cook that’s ever worked here! And she’s already been involved with the police twice since she moved here! Look at her if you want a suspect! I didn’t do it!"

One lone diner cleared his throat, and you could hear it clearly because it was the only sound in the room. Until I lost my ever-loving patience with Danielle and stormed across the room to her.

You know damn good and well neither of those were my fault, you spiteful bitch! I was toe to toe with her, daring her to deny it or hit me and get herself arrested. You’ve been after me since Sean dumped you and I took his job. I screw with your dinners because you do everything you can to sabotage me. I can’t believe you’re taking your jealousy so far that you’d accuse me of poisoning a diner! What is wrong with you?

Everything was perfectly fine around here until you showed up! Danielle spat.

Uh, Linette interjected hesitantly, technically, Sean dumped you and quit before Eliza even moved to the city, so…

Shut up, Linette! Danielle shrieked.

Clamping a hand down on both our shoulders, Gordy pushed us apart. I think we have more than enough to deal with right now without adding assault charges to the list, he said drily. He pushed me back toward the officer who’d been taking my statement and leveled his gaze at Danielle. Can you please attempt to contain yourself until the paramedics can take you to the hospital? I don’t give a shit about you getting back at your ex-boyfriend.

As soon as he turned, Danielle threw me a nasty glare, which I returned despite knowing it was childish. Spinning away from her, I found myself face to face with officer whoever he said he was. The curious expression on his face made me want to run. I thought I recognized your name, he said.

Groaning, I walked away from him, not caring whether or not he had more questions for me. I knew the last thing Gordy wanted was me getting in the way…again…but I figured everyone else might leave me alone if I pretended to be his shadow. I slipped up behind him and leaned against a booth hoping he’d serve as a shield if Danielle came after me with a steak knife.

He had ID in his pocket, someone said. We’ll take the body back to the lab, but Worthland said to give you this in case you need to notify next of kin.

The guy disappeared after that and I leaned around Gordy to unobtrusively watch him open the wallet. He took out a driver’s license and held it up to scan the information. I had to squint to see it, but I managed to make out his name and address. The name meant nothing to me, but I couldn’t control the quick intake of air as I processed the address. Gordy spun around, and looked ready to reprimand me for spying, until he saw my expression.

You know him? he asked.

I shook my head. But I recognize the address. It the same building as Sean.

Sean? He thought for a moment. The guy driving the motorcycle when the two of you wandered into a police sting and nearly got yourselves killed?

I nodded. Yep, that Sean.

You and Sean did what? Saul asked, suddenly behind me.

I jumped at the sound of his voice and tripped over the foot of a diner sitting in the booth behind me. He caught me before I could land on him, though I might have preferred sitting on him to having his hands on my ass. Mumbling a quick thanks before scooting away from him, I squished in closer to Gordy.

Never mind about that, I said to Saul. This guy lives in Sean’s building.

Saul’s worry lines deepened significantly. Danielle lives there too.

That got Gordy’s attention. His gaze snapped over to my least favorite person. Seconds later he was striding up in front of her, and not in a friendly way. You said you didn’t know the victim.

I don’t, she snapped.

He lives in your building, Gordy challenged.

She planted a hand on her hip and glared up at him. How do you know where I live?

Your boss just confirmed you live in the same building as Sean DeLacey, which Eliza just confirmed is the same building the victim lives in. He clearly thought she’d lied to him and was pissed about it.

Danielle couldn’t have cared less and turned her hateful glare on me. How do you know where Sean lives? I knew you were lying about not sleeping with him!

I wanted to kill her. I really, really wanted to kill her. I tried to tell myself one murder was enough for tonight, but it was very hard not to act on those desires. The captive diners no longer seemed to mind that they were trapped here for the time being. The show Danielle was providing was likely proving more interesting that anything else they had planned for the night.

We’re in culinary school together, I said through my teeth. Which you know. We’ve studied at his place a few times. That’s it.

I’m sure, Danielle spit with a roll of her eyes. You’re such a slut. First Sean, then Puck, that Baxter guy. Who else, huh?

Saul gently gripped my arm, wisely realizing I was about at my breaking point with her. Let it go, Eliza, he said under his breath. It took everything I had not to pick up the fork on the table next to me and throw it at her.

For the love of God, Gordy exploded. I could not care in the least about any of this shit. Answer my damn question! Do you live in the same building and do you know the victim? He held out the license and dared her not to answer him immediately.

Yes, she forced out between clenched teeth. I live in the same building, but I’ve never seen the dead guy before.

Never? Gordy demanded.

No! She threw up her hands. Like I’d stand around getting to know some dumpy, old guy for no reason. I have better things to do with my time.

Gordy looked like he wanted to slap a pair of handcuffs on her and throw in the back of his cruiser just because she’d pissed him off, but I had to admit I believed her. Danielle was as self-absorbed as they came. Her unhealthy fixation on Sean added into the mix and, yeah, no way was she going to take notice of anyone who wasn’t hot enough to make Sean jealous. Maybe Gordy figured that out as well, or maybe he was just sick to death of talking to her. He sucked in a slow breath and turned away from her with a look that said he hoped he never had to see her again. He could join the club.

Stalking over to Detective Spencer, he jabbed his thumb back over his shoulder at Danielle. As soon as she’s cleared by the hospital, I want her taken down to the station for questioning. By someone else, preferably, he muttered under his breath.

The CDC was still cleaning the scene, and the uniformed officers were taking statements. Gordy stomped over to me and closed in eyes in an effort to calm down. I half expected the first thing out of his mouth to be something along the lines of how knowing me was slowly ruining his life.

Instead, he asked, Are you sleeping with Baxter?

3: Alone

Not choking on my own spit was pretty much impossible after that question. I inhaled it right into my lungs and started coughing like a lunatic. It cleared out the space around me in a flash, all but Gordy who was clapping me on the back with more force than I thought necessary. He had a curious glint in his eye when I was finally able to face him. Or that might have been the tears pooling in mine from coughing so much.

So? he asked.

No! I hissed as I wiped my eyes. Why would you think that?

Gordy cocked his head to one side and considered me.

Despite what Danielle says I snapped, I’m not sleeping with anyone, thank you very much. Least of all Baxter. He barely puts up with me half the time. I folded my arms over my chest and felt my face fall into a familiar grumpy slump.

He more than puts up with you. Gordy scoffed. He seemed ready to ask another inappropriate question when the door suddenly opened, the bell chiming in its wake. Heads popped up all over the diner. No doubt that hoping the sound meant it was time for them to all leave. Groans spread through the dining area when the officer who’d been guarding the door stepped right back into place once Baxter was inside.

What is he doing here? I hissed.

I texted him.

I stared up at Gordy in disbelief. Why?

Because that’s the deal we made, he said with a devious grin before stepping away to meet his conspirator.

I had no idea what that meant and wanted no part of it, so I stomped over to where Saul was standing with Linette and refused to look at either Gordy or Baxter. Despite my next door neighbor being a lawyer, I knew without a doubt he was not here in an official capacity. He was an immigration lawyer. Even if the victim had been in Manhattan on a visa of some sort, he was dead now so it couldn’t possibly matter.

Eliza, Baxter grumbled, making me jump, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

Absolutely nothing.

He glanced over at the body, then at the CDC crew, then at the police milling about the diner. Doesn’t look that way.

Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.

He shut up after that. Not because of my witty comeback. Because he knew me too well to believe this wouldn’t turn into a gigantic mess. Have you been accused of anything yet?

Shut up.

Danielle accused her of poisoning the victim, Linette supplied helpfully, but that’s it.

Saul sighed. I think Danielle may be the one in trouble this time.

Is she the one who looks ready for a catfight? Baxter asked.

We all watched Danielle slap at the paramedic who was trying to get her to sit back down so he could finish doing something or other. Could he give her a tranquilizer and spare the rest of us? I could hope, right?

That’s her,