“Mac, it was an accident,” I said. “He must have eaten something elsewhere and then reacted to it. Unfortunately, we were so far out in the woods that we couldn’t get him to a hospital in time.”
“He was severely allergic,” Diana said. “He carried EpiPens everywhere he went, and stashed them all over the place. And he was really careful about what he ate. I don’t know how this could have happened.” She put her head down on her arms.
I put my hand on her back.
“Diana, you knew him pretty well, right?” Mac asked.
Diana sat up and nodded. “He was my father’s best friend. Dylan and I called him Uncle Rafe. After my parents died, he was the one who helped us put the pieces back together.” Her voice broke and she put her hand to her mouth.
Mac slid a box of tissues in her direction. “I’m sorry, Diana,” he said, and waited.
After a loud use of the tissues, she said, “Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed with the festival and I’ve been avoiding thinking about him being dead.”
“You’ve been working too hard.” I put a hand on her arm. “Let Bethany take over the booth today.”
She shook her head. “It’s better if I stay busy.” Diana looked at Mac. “Do you need anything else?”
“Whatever you can think of that would help us find out who might have wanted to hurt him.” Mac held his hands out. “It’s clear he ingested something in the hour or so before he died. Was he with you all that time?”
Diana sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. She nodded and looked at the ceiling, trying to recall the evening.
“He helped me set up the food,” she said. “We had a small meal before the ceremony. That’s where he would have eaten the bambrack. Who said they tasted nuts?”
Mac looked at the table and then at Diana. “I can’t tell you.”
I felt my jaw clench. If we’d been alone, I would have called him on his top secret attitude. There was nothing to indicate foul play as far as I could tell, so unless he was keeping major information from us, he had nothing to go on.
“Mac, Diana is exhausted. I’m sure she’ll call you if she thinks of anything. Can we be done here?”
He nodded. “Before you leave, I’ll need a list of everyone who was in the woods that night, his closest contacts, and any family.”
Diana took the pad of paper he offered and began writing. Mac pulled me out in the hall while she worked.
“Did you see anything that might help?”
“Like, did I see someone hand him a jar of Planters?”
“This isn’t funny, Clyde. I have to investigate the claim that his food may have been contaminated. Knowing Diana made it without any nuts means someone must have doctored it later.”
“It’s all hearsay. Some random person claims they tasted nuts and now you’re launching an investigation?”
“We have samples of all the food from the ceremony. The nurse who helped out at the scene took it all to the hospital—he thought it was a food allergy reaction and figured it might be useful to the doctors. He watches too much TV, but in this case it was actually helpful to be able to send it all off to a lab.”
“You know that will never hold up in court. There’s no proof he got that food from the ceremony.”
“Who said anything about court?” Mac’s voice got a little higher and he held his hands up like I was mugging him. “I’m just trying to figure out if this guy died by accident or not.”
“Diana did everything she could to help him.” I crossed my arms and held his gaze.
“No one is accusing Diana of anything.” He put his hand on my arm and slipped it around my back to pull me into a hug then retracted it quickly when he remembered where we were.
I raised an eyebrow, then smiled at him. “Good.” I wasn’t sure why I was worrying. Mac was right, there was no reason to suspect she had anything to do with peanuts in the food, but I was getting a bad feeling anyway.
In general, bad feelings are the only kind I have. Or maybe they’re just the strongest ones. I’ve never quite figured it out, but I was excellent at predicting trouble and doom. It was my special talent. Vi talks to animals, Mom reads the tarot, and I have vague inklings of badness, punctuated by dreams predicting death and mayhem. I’d trade it in an instant for a talent like singing or painting.
Diana came out of the room and handed Mac her list.
“Thanks, Diana. I’ll look into this.”
He walked with us back toward the front of the building and said good-bye. Mac could get very wrapped up in a case. It was unlikely I’d see him anytime soon. But, I smiled and nodded—I don’t do clingy.
5