Free Armoires and Arsenic by Cassie Page Page B

yes. I don’t know.”
    That took care of Tuesday’s bugging her about who killed Mr. Blackman, why and what on earth was he doing in your armoire, girl child?
    Olivia leaned back in her leather club chair and shrugged her shoulders. “Can I make you some tea so you‘ll tell me?”
    “I’m off duty, Devil Diva, at least for today.” Olivia grinned and cut a diva-ish pose. She loved the affectionate names Tuesday called her. Once she accused her, “You call me sweet buns and babykins because you can’t remember my name.”
    Right now, Tuesday had her attention no matter what she called her.
    “You don’t have to be clairvoyant to know you had better do some sleuthing of your own to find out why this detective dude is after your hide. And what does he have on Cody? An argument six months ago? What’s that about? Does he think Cody is carrying a grudge? And what do the Blackman’s have against you?”
    Olivia put up her hand to stop the rush of Tuesday’s questions. “If I knew, don’t you think I’d give you an exclusive?”
    Tuesday frowned, her pink Afro dipping over her forehead. “What I don’t understand is why poison the guy? I mean, if they were trying to cover it up to make it look like a death from natural causes? I mean, why else would you use poison? And like, with forensics these days? Don’t they like watch CSI? Who even does poison anymore? So why stuff him in the armoire and tie it up so it is obviously a murder? I mean, what’s up with that, Ollie Mollie?”
    Olivia gave her a wide-eyed are you kidding me look. “You’re asking me to get into the mind of a killer? I don’t even step on ants.”
    Tuesday gave her a two thumbs up. “And that’s why you’re my girl.”
    Olivia bowed her head in thanks, then continued. “And another thing. Strychnine? Isn’t that easily detectable? I know arsenic is cumulative. You have to give many doses over time, right Tues?”
    Tuesday guffawed. “Like I should know? Do I look like Lucretia Borgia? Hmm, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind glamming it up with some jewels and velvet. But later for that. Seriously, why are you under suspicion? I don’t get it.”
    Olivia threw up her hands in frustration. “Tuesday, come on. That’s why I need you. Can’t you give me a hint? Can’t you feel some vibrations or what ever it is you feel? Seriously. I’ll make some tea. We have to figure this out and get Cody out of jail and . . . .”
    Olivia leaned over and picked up the tray of triple crème cheeses and seed crackers to tempt her friend. With a mouthful of St. Andre, Tuesday said, “Wait a minute. I thought he was just being questioned.”
    She leaned over to let the cracker crumbs fall from her mouth to her plate before continuing. “That’s not the same thing as being in jail.” She wiped her mouth with an ivory cocktail napkin that had DVD&A in a circle around Olivia’s logo, an ornate Greek plinth.
    Olivia still couldn’t eat, though Tuesday’s arrival both calmed her anxieties and lifted her spirits. She hadn’t mentioned Brooks yet. But a hole had opened up in her center that wouldn’t close and wouldn’t accept food. In this abyss, all the unknowns of life yawned before her. Life, death, the misery of uncertainty and insecurity. What had happened to the sense of adventure and freedom, of limitless possibility that had swept her from LA to Darling Valley? It wasn’t just to get away from Brooks. She’d also been  exhilarated at the prospect of a new life, new challenges. Now it all seemed like a huge mistake. She punched the pillows on her couch and fussed with them until they looked camera ready. The futzing calmed her a bit, as it always did. She was born to make spaces beautiful. Her grandmother said so. The bit of pillow primping helped her climb back into herself, up from that ugly pit of despair. She answered Tuesday.
    “Jail. Questioning. Whatever. He’s still in the hands of the police department and I’ve got to