Free Killer Crab Cakes by Livia J. Washburn Page B

Leo went on, “The guy was murdered, plain and simple. And some woman did it.”
    That bold declaration made Phyllis frown. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How in the world do you know that?”
    “Because if a guy wanted to kill somebody, he’d shoot ’em or stab ’em or take a baseball bat to their head. He wouldn’t sneak around and slip poison into some frickin’ crab cakes—pardon my language.”
    “You’re nuts,” Raquel said. “You can’t just say that no guy would ever poison anybody.”
    “Leo’s right about men being more violent overall, though,” Sheldon pointed out. “It’s something atavistic in us. However, I agree with Raquel that you can’t automatically rule out all men as suspects just because the murderer employed poison as the means to his or her particular end.”
    “So you think a guy could have done it?” Leo said.
    “Of course.”
    “Then you’re the one who’s nuts.”
    None of them seemed to take offense at anything the others were saying, and Phyllis supposed that was because they had all been friends for so long that they were accustomed to such good-natured wrangling. She said, “I don’t think any of you are nuts, as you put it. I just wanted you to know what the situation was. I’m sure the police will be coming around to ask more questions about Mr. McKenna—”
    “Oh, my God,” Jessica interrupted as her eyes widened. “They don’t consider us suspects, do they?”
    Earlier Phyllis had tiptoed around that same question from Consuela. She didn’t feel like tiptoeing anymore.
    “I got the feeling that Chief Clifton considers everyone to be a possible suspect at this point.”
    Leo came to his feet as an angry expression darkened his broad face. “Well, that really is crazy! We barely knew Ed McKenna. None of us would have any reason to kill him.”
    “Didn’t he usually stay here at the same time as the four of you?” Phyllis asked. She was just assuming that based on comments she had heard them make over the past few days, but it was something that could be easily checked by going over Dorothy’s records. She was sure the police would get around to doing just that, probably sooner rather than later.
    “It’s true that our visits usually overlapped to a certain extent,” Sheldon said. “They seldom dovetailed precisely.”
    “He was here when we got here,” Raquel said.
    “And he usually left before we did,” Jessica said.
    “We don’t know anything about him except that he went fishing all the time,” Leo added. “Hell, I don’t even know where he’s from.”
    “San Antonio,” Phyllis said.
    “See? Why would I kill a guy when I don’t even know where he’s from?”
    Phyllis didn’t think that made much sense, but Leo seemed to, and his wife nodded supportively.
    “You know who had the best opportunity to poison somebody?” Raquel mused. “Consuela.”
    Jessica put a hand to her mouth. “That’s right! She prepares all the food. She could have put anything in it, for all we know! We could all be poisoned right now!”
    Leo turned toward her and shook his head. “You’re not poisoned. None of us has been poisoned.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “You feel okay, don’t you?” He looked at Sheldon and Raquel. “You guys are all right, aren’t you?”
    “A little hot and sweaty, maybe,” Raquel said, “but other than that, yeah, I guess I’m all right. How about you, Sheldon?”
    “I feel fine,” Sheldon declared.
    “You see,” Leo said to Jessica. “If Consuela had poisoned us this morning, we’d all be dead by now.”
    “Not necessarily,” Sheldon said. “If she used a different type of poison on us, it might be considerably slower-acting. We might not die until later tonight, or even tomorrow.”
    “That’s right,” Jessica practically wailed. “We won’t know until it’s too late!”
    Phyllis had listened to all of this she could stand. She said, “No one else has been poisoned, and none of