01 - Playing with Poison by Cindy Blackburn

refilled my glass. “That went well.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    Bryce wandered off to replenish Gina’s tray, and I gave myself a pep talk. Surely this sleuthing stuff would get easier the more I practiced? With that in mind, I turned my attention to the Dibble’s booth, where Audrey was now showing her husband one of the many trinkets adorning her neck.
    “What are all those things Audrey wears?” I asked when Bryce came back.
    “Crystals,” he said without even a peek in her direction. “But don’t go asking her about them. Make that mistake and you’ll end up with a big old bag of rocks.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Really, Jessie. I’ve seen it happen.” Bryce held out his arms and stumbled around, pretending to hold a very large imaginary bag of rocks.
    “I won’t mention the jewelry,” I promised. “But I should buy them a drink, no?”
    Bryce produced two more Long Island Iced Teas. “These will get them talking,” he said. “Talking nonsense, but talking.”
    I mumbled something about how Captain Rye probably didn’t have to ruin his monthly booze budget getting information out of people and picked up the drinks.
    ***
    Subtlety, I reminded myself as I approached the Dibbles. They looked puzzled, but I refused to be discouraged and asked ever so politely if I could talk to them about Stanley. Indeed, I practically curtsied as I set the Long Island Iced Teas before them.
    “May I join you?” I asked.
    Jackson grunted and reached for the drink, which I interpreted as a yes. Audrey also was welcoming. She moved over, her jewelry clinking and clanking, and patted the seat next to her.
    “We were just talking about you,” she said as I sat down. “We saw you on TV, and I reminded Jackson you’re the only Pisces I know. It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” She appealed to me with her bulbous eyes, and I agreed that it did seem uncanny.
    “And it’s uncanny you’re the one who found Stan.” Audrey leaned a bit too close. “Pisces have to watch out for things like that, you know?”
    “Oh?”
    “Well, yes! Stan did die in your house, didn’t he?”
    I nodded. “On my couch to be exact.”
    “But how awful for you!” Audrey stared at me with a fascination I don’t believe I merited, even considering I was the only Pisces she knew.
    “Where are you living now?” she asked. “And what about your couch?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “My wife believes in ghosts.” Jackson grunted. “I’d bet good money she thinks your place is haunted.”
    “You can’t possibly sleep in a house where someone just died! Murdered, no less!” Audrey shuddered at the prospect, and as if on cue, the weather outside broke.
    As the first thunderclap boomed, I confessed that I was still living in the same place. Audrey looked horrified, so I tried to ease her distress. “My couch is gone, though. It was confiscated by the police.” I shrugged. “I do hope to get it back someday.”
    “Oh no, Jessie!” Audrey shuddered again. “You really must get rid of that couch. Do not allow it back into your home!”
    “Huh?”
    Jackson looked up from his drink. “She’s serious, you know? Listen to her long enough, and you’ll start thinking everything’s haunted.”
    With that, the Dibbles started arguing over the validity or absurdity of Audrey’s claims, and Audrey was spouting off some rather complicated statistics of ghost sightings before we could stop her. I interrupted a detailed explanation of the hazards of unhappy poltergeists and insisted I hadn’t seen any trace of Stanley or his apparition since he had died.
    “I don’t see why he would haunt me, anyway,” I said. “I didn’t kill him.”
    The Dibbles stopped bickering to stare at me.
    “I’m innocent,” I told them.
    They continued staring.
    “That’s probably true,” Audrey said eventually, although she didn’t sound all that convinced.
    I cleared my throat and moved on. “If Stanley were going to haunt someone, who would it be?”
    She sat up