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to know that," Zelda said like any good mystery fan who knows her police protocol. "From what I hear L.A. County takes forever with their autopsies. Then again since George was a rich guy maybe he jumped to the front of the line." She looked at Daniels expectantly.
     
    "So you're on the speed dial of the M.E., now?" Daniels said. "Wow, who knew?" He rolled his eyes at his partner. "I guess anybody who watches Judge Joanie knows the whole system like the back of their hand, right?"
     
    Zelda didn't miss a beat. "For your information, I don't watch Judge Joanie, but I can read. And I'm smart enough to know that they have to do lab tests. You can't say it's an accident 'til after all that stuff is done, right?"
     
    Davis helped herself to more coffee. "He was pronounced at the hospital by the E.R. doc but it's doubtful the M.E. will determine a different cause of death. He died of respiratory arrest due to blocked airways. We already know what he ate and that it probably caused the allergic reaction that killed him."
     
    We looked with anticipation at Davis and waited.
     
    "Stop staring at me," Davis said. "What's your problem?"
     
    "Well," Zelda said, "what did he eat?"
     
    Daniels polished off the rest of the pie and wiped his mouth. "A brownie." He balled up his paper napkin and chuckled. "Death by brownie, what a way to go." He hooked his head at Davis. "That's why she didn't want one. Superstitious girl."
     
    A wave of nausea hit me and I jumped out of my seat like it was radioactive. "That can't be."
     
    They looked at me like I speaking Spanish at a Chinese convention.
     
    The room spun, my heart pounded in my ears, and I struggled to catch my breath. I rushed outside and gulped in the cold air. The rain soaked through my cotton shirt but I couldn't move. Nausea rolled over me. I hadn't had a panic attack since I was a kid but this one made up for lost time. Bending at the waist, I forced myself to take slow deep breaths. If I could slow my pounding heart, the nausea would stop and it would be over.
     
    Zelda crouched next to me. Eyes big and worried. "Scotti? What's wrong with you? What happened?"
     
    I panted. "Panic attack."
     
    Zelda patted my back, which didn't help. "Why? Did it finally hit you that George is dead? I know it's hard to take in but getting all freaked out isn't going to change anything."
     
    "No, it's not that." I started to cry. "I think I killed George."

Chapter Seven
     
    Monday morning I fidgeted in my seat at the loan officer's desk. Feeling a lot less certain of my options than I'd been when I walked into the bank. Mr. Avayan, my loan officer perused the documents with knitted eyebrows and jockeyed between the papers and his computer keyboard. The sounds he made weren't encouraging and I wondered if he'd forgotten I was sitting in front of him.
     
    Finally, he looked up and feigned a smile. "All right then, Mrs. Fitzgerald."
     
    "It's Miss Fitzgerald. I'm not married."
     
    "Of course," he said. "Miss Fitzgerald." He looked away and stacked the documents, butted them into a neat pile and cleared his throat. "Okay then. Yes. We have what we need." He stood, reached across the desk, and put out his hand. "Thank you."
     
    I stood and shook his hand. "So, that's it?"
     
    "Yes."
     
    "When will I know if I'm getting the loan?"
     
    Avayan's eye wandered to visitor chairs where other bank customers waited anxiously. He looked back to me. "Within thirty days."
     
    I cringed. "Thirty days?" I only had five weeks to get the money. And the added threat of another buyer made me more anxious. "Really? Is there any way to speed things up?"
     
    Avayan fiddled with the knot in his tie.
     
    "Do you think I'll get the loan?"
     
    His eyes slid away from mine again. The universal sign for, not a chance in Hell.
     
    "But I have sixty thousand dollars here. In this bank. Plus I have an IRA and the restaurant is collateral." My voice hit that pitch that only dogs like but I wasn't going to let