Eat, Pray, Die Mystery Box Set

by Chelsea Field

  He nodded. “That’s what I thought too. It turns out that Henry’s sister, Caroline Smythe, works at the hospital where Juan’s sister is being treated. They’re sending through a recent photo of her so we can see if it’s the same nurse.”

  His phone buzzed with a message.

  It was her.

  “You know what this means, right?”

  I was torn. This could be the connection we needed. If Caroline had become close to the Castillo family, Juan had motive, as well as opportunity. Hell, maybe Caroline had offered to botch some paperwork at the hospital to cut down his sister’s medical bills.

  But I didn’t want it to be Juan.

  Connor didn’t wait for me to answer. “I still don’t want to question Caroline when we can’t be sure Patrick MacCallum said anything to her. So, let’s find out where Mr. Castillo is working today.”

  He called the Green with Envy customer service line and told them he was Mr. Josh Summers’s personal assistant. Mr. Summers was most insistent that Connor meet with his gardener at once, or he’d be looking for a new gardening service. Connor understood Juan had other clients and so offered to meet him wherever he was for a quick chat.

  A minute later, we joined the northbound traffic flowing toward the address in Eagle Rock we’d been given.

  Halfway there, Connor got another call and put it on the car audio.

  “Mr. Stiles?” Josh’s voice came down the line. “A kid from across the street just brought me a glass bottle—could be a medicine bottle, but there’s no label—with what looks like dirty water in it. He said he was searching for his ball and found the bottle in one of my bushes on the edge of the road. I thought it might be important so—”

  “Tell everyone not to touch it until we’ve dusted for prints.”

  “Too late, sorry. I think the kid’s mom must have wiped it clean, because it doesn’t look like it’s been sitting in the dirt for a week, plus the kid had his hands all over it. We didn’t want to waste your time in case it really was just dirty water, so Caleb tasted it. He said it’s hellbane? Said you’d know what that means.”

  Connor pulled an illegal U-turn. “Sit tight. We’ll be right there.”

  When the car behind us finished honking, I turned to Connor. “Do her symptoms fit?”

  He knew what I meant. “I’ll call the doctor to check, but as far as I understand, yes.”

  Hellbane is a highly toxic plant with white, purple-veined flowers that’s grown commercially for making antispasmodic drugs. It also grows wild on roadsides, disused land, and pasture throughout California and is considered a weed. A lethal infusion could be made by anyone who bothered to soak or boil the roots in water.

  Was it the answer we’d been searching for?

  The doctor answered on the first ring. “I was about to call you. Dana’s condition is deteriorating more rapidly than anticipated. We aren’t going to be able to manage her symptoms much longer.”

  Connor let out a few choice curse words. “How much longer?”

  “Two or three hours.”

  Silence, broken only by the blipping of machines in the background.

  “There’s a chance hellbane is our mystery substance. Would that account for Dana’s symptoms?” Connor asked.

  “Yes. But then, so would dozens of other possibilities.”

  “Ready whatever you need to counteract a hellbane overdose then, but don’t give it to her yet. I’ll try to get confirmation first.”

  “Got it.”

  I spent the rest of the journey silently cursing every car ahead of us that slowed down for a turn or stopped too long at a traffic light.

  Too long. We were taking too long.

  Josh’s mansion sped into view and we raced inside. The bottle was sitting on Josh’s pale stone kitchen counter.

  “Taste it,” Connor said to me. “I want a second opinion.”

  I rattled around in a cutlery drawer and found a long-handled teaspoon before unscrewing the cap. I dipped the spoon in the liquid, then sniffed and tasted it gingerly, the image of Dana alone in a sterile white bed vivid in my mind from all the times it had haunted me.

  The flavors of fermented pomegranate and sweet straw burst on my tongue. “It’s hellbane all right.” I spat the tiny trace of it into the sink and rinsed my mouth out. “What do we do now?”

  Connor was staring out into the garden where the bottle must have been found, his gray eyes shadowed. “I don’t know.” He spoke more to himself than to me or Josh. “I don’t like it. Dana should have tasted it, even with the Ambience there as well.”

  It was true. Hellbane’s flavor was subtle but distinctive once you knew what to look for, and if she could pick out the Ambience in a blackberry dish, she should’ve detected the hellbane too.

  “And the crime scene team did a sweep of the house and garden and didn’t find the bottle.”

  “The team could’ve missed it, couldn’t they?” I asked. “This place is huge, and what possible reason could the killer have for planting the bottle in the garden for us to find now?”

  “To finish her off. If we give her the wrong counteracting drugs, she’ll die.”

  We both knew that if she didn’t have the gene mutation PSH337PRS, she’d be dead already.

  Josh hadn’t said a word since we’d arrived, but now he cut in. “But without the right antidote, she’ll die anyway!”

  Connor’s gaze swept to him. “The killer wouldn’t be able to know that for sure. We’ve kept her condition a secret.”

  “Then wouldn’t they assume she’s dead?” I asked. “No one’s seen her since. If it was intended as a lethal dose, why would the killer suspect she’s alive?”

  “Remember, we told a few people that an attempt was made on her life. That says not dead.”

  “But why finish off Dana if Josh was the target?”

  “Maybe she saw or tasted something that could lead back to the person behind it. Or maybe they think finishing off Josh’s girlfriend is an easy way to hurt him, seeing as he’s turning out to be hard to kill.”

  My eyes flicked to Josh. His face was a rigid, pale mask. He looked like I felt. The implications weren’t good.

  Yes, Dana could have missed the hellbane and the crime scene team could have missed the bottle in the sweep. It was possible. But it was also possible the bottle had been planted to trick us into finishing her off. If Juan was working with Caroline like we suspected, it would have been oh so easy for him to place the bottle in the garden.

  I was selfishly glad the decision was Connor’s. Josh and I watched him with matching apprehension.

  “Mr. Summers, I’ll have a team look over the last few days of your security footage for any sign that the hellbane was planted to finish Dana off.”

  He turned to me. “Get in the car. We have an hour left to find and interrogate our killer.”

  22

  I thought Connor had been driving fast before, but now he raced down the streets like he had sirens on. Only he didn’t have sirens on.

  I held on and tried to connect the dots. “If you think it’s unlikely Dana missed the hellbane, is it possible it got into her system another way?”

  Not all poisons have to be ingested or absorbed through the membranes under the tongue or in the nasal passages where a Shade can screen them. Some can be absorbed through the skin, aerosols and gases can be inhaled, and others injected, but these methods are unpopular. Skin absorption is slow, and usually causes irritation at the site of entry, which means there’s time to seek treatment and so fatalities are rare. Aerosols and gases are volatile, dangerous to the handler, and have a high risk of accidental collateral damage. Injections are fast and effective but require basic medical knowledge, and the bad guy has to get up close to the victim, which negates most of the benefits of using poison in the first place. A bullet or a knife works just as well if you don’t mind the risk of being spotted in the act.

  The car screeched around a corner as Connor answered. “It can be in
jected, but it would have had to be administered after the Ambience, otherwise Dana would’ve known about it and reported it. So the theory doesn’t work unless Dana was the intended victim. Plus, she was monitored that whole time.”

  He shook his head. “If Caroline is behind this, it doesn’t matter how she did it—Juan’s our best chance of putting a name to the second poison in the next forty minutes. Caroline would’ve needed him to lace the blackberries with Ambience. If we’re lucky, she told him the rest of the plan.”

  “Will he know what was used, even if he did it?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Long minutes later, we screeched to a stop at an address in Hollywood Hills—Juan’s next client. The usually forty-five-minute drive had taken us thirty-five, but the Green with Envy van we were looking for wasn’t there.

  Connor called the dispatcher again. She called Juan’s phone but got no answer and reiterated what we already knew. He’d been scheduled to leave Eagle Rock forty minutes ago. Plenty of time to have made it to Hollywood Hills, even stopping for gas. Connor asked the dispatcher if she’d told Juan he was coming. She had. He gave a curt thank-you and hung up.

  “Do you think he’s on the run?” I asked.

  “Could be.” His eyes were hard. “We’ll sit here for another fifteen minutes in case he’s just very late. If he’s on the run, even if he’s dumb enough to go home first, it will take us more time to get to El Sereno than we have left.” He let out a slow breath. “Dana’s condition is so critical now that even with the right antidote she might not make it. Every minute decreases her chances.”

  I touched his arm. “There’s a good possibility it’s hellbane, isn’t there? Josh’s place is huge. It would be easy to miss a small bottle stuck in a bush. Plus, Josh said he and Dana were recovering from a big night, and he urged her to hurry. That, combined with being distracted by the taste of the Ambience, might have been enough to make her miss the hellbane. It’s rare to have more than one poison in a single meal, right?”

  Connor looked out the window in the direction Juan would come, if he was coming. Minutes dragged by.

  “Could we ring his wife?” I asked. “Ask her if she’s seen him? Or maybe we could call Caroline and grill her without mentioning what we think her motive is?”

  Connor crushed the steering wheel. “It’s too late. We’re out of time.” He rang the doctor. “Give it to her. Let me know as soon as her condition changes, either way.” When he hung up, he sagged in his seat, aging five years before my eyes. Lack of sleep hadn’t ruffled him, but admitting defeat was a whole other matter.

  Best to keep him occupied. “Now what?”

  He stared out the windshield and didn’t respond for one long, scary minute. Then he reached for the keys. “Now we find Juan.”

  We drove to the Castillos’ home in El Sereno. If Juan was on the run, he might’ve contacted Francisca, and regardless of what he was up to, there was a chance he’d answer a call from her when he wasn’t answering anyone else’s.

  Francisca wasn’t happy to see us. “You think because he’s Mexican he’s guilty, huh? My husband is good man!”

  “We’re not accusing him of anything,” Connor said. Yet.

  “We’re just trying to find him so we can ask a few more questions,” I said. “Could you please try phoning him?”

  She glared at both of us but grabbed her phone and dialed. It went to voice mail.

  “Mrs. Castillo, could you tell us more about Juan and the nurse, Caroline Smythe’s, relationship?”

  Her dark eyes smoldered. “Relationship? You think my Juan is having a relationship?” Before Connor could respond, she slapped him across the face. “How dare you? Get out of my house.”

  Connor backed up, hands raised. “That’s not what I was asking. Really, I meant no disrespect.”

  She wasn’t having any of it. “Get out!” She included me in her fiery gaze, and I started backing up too.

  Connor placed his card on a side table on the way out. “Please call me if you hear from him.”

  She slammed the door in our faces.

  “That went well,” I said.

  Connor’s cheek sported a rosy imprint of Francisca’s wrath. He didn’t say anything.

  Was it possible Francisca had hurried us out on purpose, to cover for Juan somehow? His Green with Envy van wasn’t in the driveway, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here.

  We returned to the SUV. My mind churned. What was our next step? I came up empty. Even if we found the killer and got a full confession in the next two minutes, it wouldn’t make any difference to Dana. The antidote was either stopping the hellbane from doing any more damage or making it worse and guaranteeing she’d never be unhooked from life support.

  Connor hadn’t started the engine. He was just sitting there, smiling.

  I did a double take. His smile was as wide as I’d ever witnessed.

  I checked to see if I was missing any clothes. Nope, all there.

  Connor held out his phone. “Read it.”

  It was a message from Dana’s doctor.

  Appears antidote is working. Pulse, blood pressure, and vitals starting to improve. Not out of danger yet, but outlook is positive.

  I felt like I lost ten pounds in an instant. The waistband digging into my hips didn’t corroborate this miraculous weight loss, but I looked up at Connor and grinned anyway.

  He really was breathtaking when he smiled. Just as well it was a rare sight.

  “You did it,” I said. “You made the right call.”

  “No. We did it.”

  I realized I was still holding his hand, the one holding his phone. I let go.

  He leaned in toward me, and the atmosphere of our shared relief turned steamy. I searched his gray eyes, which were warm for once, and didn’t pull back. He tucked a stray tangle of hair behind my ear, his touch sending tingles rampaging all the way down my spine. I licked my lips. He drew closer, and my breath hitched. Then his lips met mine, and my head exploded.

  Or it might have if he hadn’t pulled away after a minute.

  I stared at him, breathless and disoriented. “Why did you stop?”

  His face told me nothing. “The Taste Society contract states I need your explicit agreement, remember?” He brushed my cheek. “But your acting’s improving.”

  I shoved his hand away and tugged up my top, which had somehow slipped down past my bra when I wasn’t paying attention. “I’ll have to report you for breach of contract, then.”

  “Yes. Only we both know you want me to do it again.”

  He may have been right, but he wasn’t giving me any clues about what he wanted, or his real reason for pulling back, so I finished adjusting my top and tried to look haughty. “Then, like you said, I guess my acting is improving.”

  Connor didn’t react. The robot. He started the engine. “Are you hungry?”

  “For food? Of course.”

  I was way too horny to be hungry, but I couldn’t let him know that. Besides, by the time food was served, I was pretty sure my stomach would have reasserted itself as overlord of my bodily urges.

  Sure it would have.

  23

  We went to an outdoor taco stand, seeing as we were in the area for it. I was a big fan. I just hoped living by all this cheap, delicious Mexican food, with its huge portions, wasn’t going to turn me into a big fan in the literal sense.

  I was licking the last of the spicy sauce from my mouth, trying not to imagine Connor doing it for me, when his phone rang once more.

  “That was the dispatcher from Green with Envy,” he said after disconnecting. “Juan called in to report he was running late because his client wanted to discuss his landscaping ideas. Apparently he had a lot of ideas, and Juan left his phone in the car.”

  “So, he’s not fleeing to Mexico?”

  “Doesn’t seem like it. Of course, he doesn’t know what we’ve learned.”

  The thing I’d learned was that Connor was a bette
r kisser than I’d fantasized. Somehow I doubted that’s what he was referring to.

  “So, what do we do?” I asked, to cover my distraction.

  “Well, now that Dana’s been given the correct antidote and Juan isn’t halfway to the border, everything is less time critical. That means we can delay confronting Juan until we have either concrete evidence or a bluff strategy to persuade him to confess. I’ll head in and work with the research team, see what we can rustle up.”

  “Can’t I come?”

  “No. You don’t have clearance.”

  “Then, what do I do?”

  “Get some sleep?”

  I crossed my arms and harrumphed, but, as expected, he remained unmoved. He drove me back to my apartment, and I trudged up the stairs, feeling strangely subdued considering everything.

  Dana is going to live, I reminded myself. My flat mood must be the fatigue catching up with me. I carried Meow to my bed for a quick nap.

  Five hours later, I woke up to Meow’s purrs vibrating through my belly. I checked my phone. It was six-thirty, and Connor had sent me a message half an hour ago:

  Doctor says he’s seeing steady improvements in Dana’s oxygenation, pH levels, renal function, and vitals. All that means she’s out of danger, and he should be able to take her off the machines and wake her up tomorrow. Thought you should know. Also, still have some things to take care of here, so I’ll see you for a late dinner around 8:30.

  I got out of bed and danced around the room. Meow was unimpressed. I didn’t care. Dana was out of danger! It was incredible news.

  Incredible news that Josh deserved to know, I realized. He’d been at least as stressed as me the entire investigation and then found out she was his daughter to boot.

  It was the kind of news best delivered in person. Besides, I didn’t have his number. Mind made up, I fed Meow her dinner and grabbed my keys before remembering I’d given my car away.

  I swore.

  Google Maps said it was a nine-mile walk. Too far. I did some more Googling. I could use my last few bucks on bus fare, catch two buses, walk two miles, and take an hour and a half to get there, or I could get Etta to drive me. The problem was, I couldn’t tell Etta where I was going or she’d want to come too.