Laced with Poison by Meg London

this?”
    “Cream cheese.”
    “What is the news at Sunny Days?” Arabella leaned her elbows on the counter eagerly.
    “Yeah, shoot.” Sylvia eased onto the love seat, stuck out her legs and rotated her
     ankles.
    Emma watched her with concern. Sometimes she worried that Sylvia was working too much—it
     was hard being onyour feet all day. But she also knew that Sylvia would rather be working than sitting
     in her apartment.
    “Did you talk to Crystal Davis?” Arabella popped the last bit of her cupcake in her
     mouth.
    Emma shook her head.
    “No, she was hiding in her office,” Liz said.
    Arabella tilted her head quizzically.
    “We knocked on the office door, but she didn’t answer. Later we saw her sneaking into
     the hall when she thought no one was looking. She practically ran the other way when
     she saw us coming,” Emma explained.
    Arabella laughed.
    “That girl is less than useless,” Sylvia complained.
    “But we ran into your friend, Earl.” Emma looked at Sylvia. “He called his nephew
     who is in the police department and got a few details at least.”
    “Well don’t keep us in suspense,” Sylvia grumbled.
    Emma explained about the nursing resident being taken to the hospital and the doctor
     discovering that someone had attempted to smother her.
    “This is too much.” Arabella slumped against the counter. “First Jessica Scott and
     now this poor woman.” She looked at Sylvia, then at Emma and Liz. “Do you think the
     two incidents are related?”
    Emma shrugged. “I can’t imagine how. Jessica was killed at our trunk show, so the
     person responsible must have been at the party.” She shivered.
    Liz finished the last bite of her cupcake. “Someone had to have substituted the poisonous
     flower for the one Bitsy originally put on the cupcake. I know I didn’t pick any poisonous
     flowers by mistake.”
    “And I only used the ones Liz brought me,” Bitsy said. Her expression darkened. “I’ve
     heard from some friendsthat the police have been around asking questions about me and Jessica when we were
     in college.” Bitsy stifled a sob. “What if they find out what happened between us
     when we were rushing? They’re bound to think I had something to do with her death.”
    “Oh, my dear, you needn’t worry,” Arabella said soothingly. “This new detective, what
     was his name?” She looked at Emma.
    “Bradley Walker.”
    “Detective Walker. He seems much more on the ball than poor old Chuck Reilly. He’s
     bound to discover the real culprit in due time.”
    “I hope you’re right.” Liz’s face turned ashen. “I’m still the most logical suspect.”
    “No!” Emma declared. “Someone at that party is responsible, and it’s not you, Liz,
     or you, Bitsy.”
    “But how did that foxglove flower get on the cupcake that Jessica ate?” Sylvia said
     from her perch on the love seat.
    “We know neither Liz nor Bitsy had anything to do with it,” Emma said firmly. “Therefore,
     someone else had to replace one of the harmless decorative flowers with the foxglove.”
     Emma began to pace back and forth. She stopped, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
    “I can’t exactly imagine anyone carrying foxglove flowers around in their purse,”
     Arabella said.
    “No.” Emma scrunched up her face. “But Deirdre has a garden. What if she has foxglove
     growing and someone noticed it? It would be easy enough to slip outside when no one
     is looking, pick one of the flowers and put it in place of one of the edible ones
     Bitsy used to decorate her cupcakes.”
    “Foxglove is a fairly showy plant, so it’s possible a landscaper might have used it
     in the Porters’ garden,” Liz said. “We need to ask Deirdre.”
    Arabella cleared her throat. “That might sound as if we’re accusing her.” She frowned.
     “Deirdre’s been a good customer. I would hate to offend her.”
    Emma and Liz looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes. “We could sneak