Lenny growls beside me. “She was always jealous of Duncan’s success.”
“The thing is,” Gina adds as her gaze shifts to the refreshment table, “Bunny is basically a walking apothecary. She can get her handson anything that’s supposedly good for you—or anything that can kill you, if you know what I mean.”
“Kill?” I lean back, and Gina gives a quick laugh.
“Don’t worry, Lottie. I’m pretty sure you’re safe. But seriously, she knows all of nature’s tricks and secrets. Herbs, plants, extracts, tinctures—if it grows somewhere on this planet, Bunny probably has it in her collection and knows exactly what it can do to the human body. This is going to sound strange, but Duncan believed for years that she was out to get him, and just a few weeks ago, when she brought some of her special cookies by the office for him, Duncan threw them out. He said the witch was trying to poison him.”
“What?” I shake my head at the thought.
She shrugs. “I’m just telling you what I saw. It was more than odd. I mean, I knew the family was a little kooky, but that was over the top.”
“Why would Bunny want Duncan dead?” both Lenny and I ask at once, and I must say, we harmonize quite nicely.
“I don’t know.” Gina’s eyes widen a notch. “I don’t even know if the two of them were serious or just bantering. But she’s accused Duncan of poisoning the masses with chocolate for years.”
I file this information away for future reference, because a woman with access to natural poisons definitely belongs at the top of my suspect list.
“What about Muffin?” I ask, because I might as well get the full family dirt while Gina’s in a sharing mood.
“Oh, Muffin,” Gina groans despite shedding a little laugh. “Where do I even start with that woman? I guess you heard all about her romance novels, right?”
“I heard everything Duncan had to say that afternoon.” I’m right back to wincing.
“Everyone heard that,” she muses. “Well, from what I heard, those aren’t your run-of-the-mill dirty books,” Gina says with a knowing look. “They’re memoirs. Every affair, every secret rendezvous, every passionate encounter—it’s all been documented in excruciating detail and published for the world to read.”
Lenny perks up. “That’s what Bunny implied.”
I give a covert nod his way before looking back at Gina.
“How do you know that?” I ask. Come to think of it, I don’t know what made Bunny so sure she knew that either.
Gina leans in closer. “Fairbanks told me.” She bites down on her lower lip at the mention of her husband. “It turns out, Duncan found out about her current affair about six months ago. He hired some private detective to have her followed, got pictures and more details of anything he ever wanted. The detective spoke to the guy Muffin was sleeping with, you know, bellying up at the bar with him. The guy didn’t know he was talking to a P.I. Anyway, the guy basically spilled the beans on Muffin’s books. He said his night moves were infamous and were recorded for the whole world to see.”
“He was actually bragging?” I ask in disbelief.
“That’s right.” She laughs. “I guess after a few beers, he was shouting it from the rooftops. That’s how Duncan got the information on Muffin’s pen name. And, of course, he told Fairbanks and me. I read the books. She may have fictionalized a few things, but I was shocked that she basically wrote about her life, right down to being a church secretary and a secret romance writer by night. It was pretty detailed in the bedroom as well, if you know what I mean.”
“Wow,” I muse. “I guess she was treating it as a diary of sorts.”
“That’s not all.” Gina ticks her head to the side. “The guy’s been pressuring Muffin to leave Duncan and marry him instead. But here’s the kicker—Duncan had filed for divorce the week before the festival.”
“Oh my word,” I breathe, because this is getting juicier by the minute.
“The prenup is ironclad,” Gina explains. “If they divorce, Muffin gets essentially nothing. But if Duncan dies while they’re still married, she inherits everything—millions and millions of dollars, plus controlling interest in the company.”
Lenny snarls with disgust. “That gold-digging harpy never loved him. She loved his bank account and his family name.”
“The timing of Duncan’s death was very convenient for Muffin,” Gina adds quietly. “Very convenient, indeed.”
From across the ballroom, I hear Carlotta’s voice rising above thegeneral chatter. “Is it just me, or does that chocolate fountain look like it needs a stripper pole?”
I shoot a look her way. She had better behave. But I know better.
Here’s hoping she’s not about to cause a scene that will cut short my very productive interrogation session.
Lenny growls, “Cut to the chase, Lottie. I have a feeling she’s about to dart in the crowd.”
Judging by the way Gina is assessing the room, I’d say he’s right.
