“Taking a call outside.”
“It must be a catching condition,” I say. “Apparently, that’s where Killion is, too.”
She rolls her eyes while simultaneously checking her reflection in a butter knife. “Men and their calls, am I right? Like, who even talks on phones anymore? Just text like a normal person.”
I nod, thinking of Killion rushing off totakea text and it makes me frown.
Bunny launches into a detailed description of her date’s financial portfolio, which I’m pretty sure violates several privacy laws, but she’s interrupted by Killion’s return. He slides back into the seat next to her, looking flushed.
“Well, hello, Detective Delicious,” Bunny purrs. “Solving any crimes tonight besides the one your jawline is committing against my composure?”
Killion is more than used to Bunny’s unique brand of flirtation.
He holds up his hands in surrender with a chuckle. “I’m just here having dinner with my girlfriend.”
“Hint received and roundly ignored,” Bunny chirps, standing. “But I should probably get back to my date before he falls in love with someone else. It happens alarmingly often.” She blows us both kisses. “Toodles!”
Once she clip-clops away, I turn back to Killion. “So, what did toxicology have to say?”
He stares at me blankly. “About what?”
“About Vivian Maple. The reason you just took a text message like it was the president calling with launch codes.”
“Oh, right.” His phone chirps again, and he glances at the screen with such obvious relief that alarm bells start ringing in my head. “Ah, this is them—uh, again.”
He reads from his phone. “Preliminary findings indicate the presence of taxine B in the victim’s system—and in the remnants of her drink. Consistent with yew poisoning. Full report to follow.”
“Yew poisoning?” I repeat. “As in the plant?”
“Apparently. Highly toxic if ingested. Symptoms include abdominal pain, cardiac arrhythmia, and respiratory failure. Death can occur rapidly after consumption.”
“So, someone definitely murdered her,” I say, feeling a chill despite the restaurant’s cozy warmth. “Someone with knowledge of poisonous plants.”
“Looks that way. Which means I’ve got a homicide on my hands.” He runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up in a way that normally makes my heart skip, but now just adds to my unease. “What did you learn at the bakery?”
I fill him in on Meredith’s revelations about Vivian’s upcoming meeting with Autumn Harrington and the apparent history between Vivian and Oliver.
“Sounds like I need to have a chat with both of them,” Killion says, slipping into detective mode so completely I can almost see the badge glowing on his chest.
“We’ll need to talk to Autumn first,” I say automatically.
His eyebrow rises. “We?”
“It’s a figure of speech.” I backpedal, though we both know it wasn’t. “I meantyou. You will need to talk to her.”
His expression makes it clear he’s not buying what I’m selling—and you had better believe he looks hotter than heck doing it.
“And you won’t be conducting any amateur investigations on the side?” he asks. You could practically hear the doubt in his voice.
“Would I do that?” I bat my lashes at him.
“Is water wet? Do bears do their business in the woods? Does Rookie have an unhealthy attachment to that teddy bear?”
I mock-gasp. “Leave Jolly Beary out of this. He’s sensitive.”
Killion’s phone chirps a third time. He glances at it, and something flickers across his face too quickly for me to interpret.
“Another update from toxicology?” I ask, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.
