Distracted by her reminiscing, Cordelia didn’t even notice Archer stopping until she was a mere twenty feet away. If he noticed her presence, he didn’t acknowledge it. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he wouldn’t have noticed a tornado barreling down the street. He stood in front of his momma’s house with his hands on his hips, just staring up at the place. Worry lines creased his brows. Cordelia found herself wanting to reach out and smooth that crease with her thumb. An absurd lapse in reason.
She waited for him to do something, knock on the door or go sit on the old swing that still hung from his momma’s porch. Something. But he just stood there, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, like he couldn’t make sense of whatever he was seeing.
Creeping out from behind the trimmed hedge, Cordelia cautiously approached him, not even giving her old home a second glance. Other than noting that the new owners had decorated their steps with bright-yellow chrysanthemums, she felt nothing, and didn’t know if she should be relieved or concerned by that.
“Archer?” Cordelia laid a hand on his arm when he jumped, his muscles tight and tense beneath his shirt. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.” His voice sounded faraway, like he was responding from somewhere else entirely and wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here.
“Are you going to go in and say hi to your momma?”
Archer shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“What’s going on?” Cordelia didn’t want to press him. It certainly wasn’t her place, but that lost look in his eyes bothered her. Archer was always so sure of himself, so confident. This new side of him rattled her.
“Nothing.” He blinked a few times, as if clearing his mind. “I can’t be here right now. The bed-and-breakfast is up the next street. I’ll call Daisy and have her pack your bags.”
Without another word, he walked away, but this time Cordelia didn’t follow him. She just stood outside his momma’s front walk wondering what had spooked him bad enough to make a man like Archer look so haunted. Letting instinct guide her, not that her instincts had been doing a bang-up job until then, she walked up the front steps and knocked.
It took a few moments, but eventually Stella answered the door. She wore a fifties-style polka-dot-print dress with a tight waist and flowing skirt. The top two buttons were undone, and her expression was mildly flustered, but other than that, she was put together. With her salt-and-pepper hair pinned up in a neat twist and a few loose strands framing her face, she looked ready to serve meatloaf to a family of two-point-five kids and a husband named Jim Dear. Or maybe that was just Cordelia’s old perception of her coming through.
“Cordelia.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What brings you by this late?”
“I was in the neighborhood...” Cordelia trailed off when her eyes drifted over Stella’s shoulder to find Gladys with her hair mussed and her lipstick smeared. Cordelia’s cheeks pinkened.She’d clearly interrupted an intimate moment. “I’m so sorry to drop in like this.”
“Nonsense.” Stella opened the door wider. “You’re always welcome here.”
As soon as Stella opened the door all the way, Cordelia understood what had pained Archer so much and why he’d stood in front of his momma’s house like a ghost. There, in the foyer of her home, was a fifty-gallon saltwater tank, brimming with glowing green coral.
Cordelia stood in the open doorway in shock as all the clues they’d chased down knitted together, exposing the full picture. The Dew Valley wine, a single bottle purchased by the pastor, would’ve been in this home. And now the palytoxin. Everything came together. Why hadn’t they focused more on Stella? Cordelia pressed a hand to her stomach as the contents of her lunch threatened to make an abrupt reappearance.
“Cordelia?” Stella reached a hand out to steady her. “Are you sick, dear?”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Cordelia’s lips trembled.
“What are you talking about?” Stella glanced over her shoulder, but Gladys had left, possibly to give them some privacy. Did she know? Had she been in on it?
“The wine. The Dew Valley you gave to Corbin.” Stella flinched, all but confirming what Cordelia already knew. She could barely form words. Her tongue felt thick and sluggish in her mouth and the insides of her ears buzzed with white noise. “He gave it to the pastor. He drank it and died and you’re the one who killed him.”
“Keep your voice down.” Stella stepped outside and shut the door. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but my husband wouldn’t drink while writing sermons.”
Gone was the soft woman she’d remembered from her youth,the sweet pastor’s wife who had a kind word for everyone. The woman who had been thrilled Cordelia was dating her son. In her place stood a cold and formidable woman.
Cordelia drew herself up to her full height. She wouldn’t be intimidated into submission. She wasn’t ten anymore. “The pastor didn’t die at church. He died in Daisy’s room after consuming a bottle of Dew Valley wine laced with palytoxin.”
“No.” Stella paled and drew her knuckles to her mouth. For a woman who had felt larger than life, she certainly appeared small now.
“You know what that is, don’t you?” Cordelia pressed forward. “You can deny it if you want, but I saw the saltwater tank, and I know you had a bottle of Dew Valley in your house.”
“The sheriff said it was arsenic.” Stella balled her fists under her chin. “I gave that wine to Corbin Abernathy. How did James end up with it?” She seemed so shocked, so suddenly lost, that Cordelia couldn’t help but believe her. Her heart now ached for Stella. She might not have loved her husband, but it was clear she still cared for him. The small cry she released was soaked in grief and terror. She hadn’t meant to kill her husband, but she did all the same, and she’d have to live with that guilt. Stella could be dismissive of sinners and haughty when questioned, but she wasn’t a bad woman. Just flawed.
Cordelia wrapped an arm around her and led her to the porch swing, seating them both on the plush cream cushion. “I think you need to explain what happened.”
“I put palytoxin in a bottle of Dew Valley, but I didn’t give it to my husband. I never would’ve hurt James.” Stella’s eyes filled with tears. If she was faking, she was a phenomenal actress. “I left it on the hood of Corbin’s truck with a note, hoping he’d split it with Edna.”
“Why would you try to kill Edna and Corbin?”
“I didn’t.” Stella looked taken aback, like Cordelia had just accused her of harvesting puppies for a fur coat. “I only wanted to scare them out of doing business with Sean O’Leary. The note I left made it look like it was a gift from Sean, so when they got sick, I was hoping they’d see it as a threat. I knew the three of them were planning something with the Chickadee.”
