by Tara Meyers
Ember assumed he was talking about the disturbance call. She literally bit down on her tongue and rocked back on her heels, trying to think of an excuse to leave. But Cody turned his attention to her.
“You know how it is here. Quick to condemn, slow to forgive.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned. “Lots of wild speculation floating around about Delilah and the guy that died. I know I’ve only been working for her for a couple of weeks, but I know she’s a good person. I won’t stand by and listen to people call her a murderer.”
Ember was trying to think of a response, when the door behind Cody was pulled open. To her surprise, Becky stepped inside. She didn’t look well.
“Oh!” Mel gasped when she almost walked into her. “Becky, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I need to talk to you, Ember. Alone.”
Mel and Ember exchanged a concerned look before Ember gestured for her and Cody to leave. “Have fun, guys.”
After a brief hesitation, Mel closed the door behind them, causing the small bell overhead to jingle happily. A direct contrast to the dark mood that had flowed into the room with Becky.
A small ball of ice settled in Ember’s stomach. It was so unlike her Aunt Becky to get rattled over anything. She’d always been the rock in Ember’s life, and endless horrendous possibilities poured through her mind.
“Becky,” she finally got out when the other woman just stood staring at her hands. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.” Reaching out, Ember took Becky’s gloved hands in hers. “Let me help you.”
Becky looked up. Her blue eyes were watery and red-rimmed, her short fiery hair in disarray. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Licking her lips, she tried again. “I’m sorry for running out the other day, but―” Closing her eyes, she took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “The date.”
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Ember leaned in closer so she could hear. “The date? What date?”
Thinking back to the conversation over lunch, she recalled that Becky left right after Mayor Gomez had confirmed she’d made the connection with the date of both Allen Swenson and Delilah’s husbands’ deaths. “December fifteenth?”
Becky’s eyes flashed back open, and she squinted at Ember as if waiting for her to have an epiphany. When it was clear she’d have to explain it, a brief look of annoyance crossed the older woman’s features.
“Seventeen years ago, Doug Huntsman died on that day.” Taking yet another ragged breath, Becky visibly braced herself. “Twenty-seven years ago, Ember, on that same day…your father died.”
Ember staggered backward, pulling her hands from Becky like she’d been physically shoved. It didn’t make any sense. How could it be true? The walls of the room were closing in on her, and her ears began to ring, the sound of her own racing heart echoing in her head.
“Ember!”
Becky’s voice came from far away. Staggering, Ember reached out blindly for something to grab onto as her vision swam.
“Ember, slow your breathing down. You need to take some deep breaths.”
Strong hands gripped Ember’s upper arms to support her, and she leaned into them. Those were the hands of the Aunt Becky she was used to. Her rock. The one person who had always been there for her. The one who held her just six months ago as she wept at her mother’s graveside.
“Ember, I’m so sorry, but I had to tell you. I don’t know what it means. Maybe it’s nothing, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.”
The initial shock was passing, and Ember’s head slowly cleared as she followed her aunt’s instructions and took several slow, deep breaths. She hadn’t had a panic attack since getting the call about her mom’s accident. She knew how to control it, but when in the midst of the fight-or-flight response, there was no rational thought. Now, she steadied herself and went through her normal relaxation techniques and talked herself the rest of the way down. She’d suffered from anxiety off-and-on for most of her life, but she’d learned how to cope.
Becky waited patiently, her hands still firmly planted on Ember’s arms. “Can I get you anything?”
Shaking her head, Ember stepped forward to give Becky a hug. “I’m okay,” she whispered while in the embrace. “But I certainly didn’t see that coming,” she added, moving back. “I don’t know what to make of it. Could it be a coincidence? How can it be anything else? Mom never talked about what happened except to say that Dad died from complications of the flu. Was that not true?”
“No, that’s true,” Becky confirmed. “Can we talk in the break room? Do you have any clients coming soon?”
Ember glanced at the clock mounted on the wall of the front lobby. “I’ve got over half an hour until the next appointment.”
Sensing movement at her feet, she looked down and saw that Daenerys was lying there. At some point, the dog had come to her during her distress and had stayed, not making a sound.
Kneeling down, she wrapped her arms around her friend’s furry neck. “I love you, Shappa.” She murmured the dog’s original Lakota name, which meant Red Thunder. It was a name reserved for times of endearment and held a special meaning for them both.
Ember stood and led the way to the break room. She busied herself with starting a fresh pot of coffee, and the familiar routine helped steady her nerves.
“I was the one who found Brodie.”
Ember turned from the counter to look at Becky, who was seated on the couch. It was the first time she’d heard that detail. It was weird to hear her father’s name spoken. Since he’d died when she was just one, he was usually only mentioned during the course of her mom and aunt recalling an old memory. But it was obviously painful to talk about him, so Ember learned at an early age not to ask.
“He’d been sick with the flu for over a week, but he was finally starting to feel better,” Becky continued with a faraway look in her eyes. “I think he almost went back to work that day, but your mom talked him into one more night of resting at home. She’d taken you into Great Pines for some appointments and shopping and asked me to stop by and check in on him after school.”
Ember focused on the calming smell of freshly brewed coffee. She steeled herself for the details.
“I saw Brodie the day before, Ember, and he looked a ton better. Some bags under his eyes, and he might have lost a few pounds, but his color was so much better. Everyone was relieved that you hadn’t gotten his cough, and that was the only lingering symptom he had. But when I walked into the house that afternoon, I knew something was horribly wrong.”
Becky stood abruptly and grabbed a mug out of the small cupboard over the sink. Ember filled it for her, and Becky wrapped her hands around it like she was cold and sat back down.
Taking a slow sip of coffee without adding any creamer, Becky closed her eyes briefly before continuing. “The house was too quiet. And dark. It was snowing and already getting dark out, but none of the lights were on. I called his name as I went through the rooms flipping switches. I heard a muffled groan from the bedroom, and…I found him on the floor. He was drooling.”
Becky was talking faster and faster as the memory came rushing back. “He looked up and tried to talk. I think he was saying my name, but nothing would come out.” A small sob escaped Becky’s lips, and she set the cup down on the table with enough force to cause some of the black liquid to splash out.
“I fell to his side and tried to help him up, but…but he started seizing. His head hit mine, and I almost blacked out. I crawled to the phone and called my mom. We didn’t have 911 yet, and I didn’t know who else to call.
“It seemed like forever before anyone got there. The police chief was first. He didn’t know what to do either. Brodie had stopped seizing by then, but he started again just before the medics arrived. He stopped breathing before they could get him on the gurney. They were doing CPR when our mom walked in. I was seventeen, Ember. Seventeen.”
Ember wasn’t sure how to react. She wanted to
hug Becky, but she held back. Her aunt was someone who needed her space when emotions were high. Instead, she opted to keep her talking to work through it.
“There wasn’t anything else you could have done. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Shaking her head, Becky stood up. “You’re right. It was horrible, and for years I held on to the knowledge that he’d gone into respiratory distress from pneumonia, as the doctors told me. That it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d gone straight there like I said I would, instead of stopping to see Ben Walker along the way. I told myself that those fifteen minutes wasn’t what killed him. It was the flu. But this changes everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“If someone poisoned him, then I might have been able to stop it. Or calling for help sooner might have made a difference. I know,” she lamented, throwing her hands up at the look Ember gave her. “Thinking like that doesn’t make any sense, but I can’t help it. It’s what’s been running through my head since that moment at the Rusty Wagon Wheel when I figured it out. Why would someone want to kill Brodie? Or Delilah’s husband? And why would they kill again twenty-seven years later?”
The clinic phone ringing interrupted the intense conversation. Ember jumped at the harsh sound and nearly dropped her coffee cup.
Relieved to have a distraction, she rushed out to the front counter to snatch it off the receiver on the fifth ring. “Hello, Sanctuary Animal Clinic.”
“Yes, this is Gary at Quick Quality Labs. Is Dr. Burns available?”
“This is Dr. Burns.”
“I have those results back. I apologize again for the delay. I have to say, this isn’t something I’ve ever seen before. The test was positive for arsenic. I’ve just emailed the results that include the levels and parts-per-million. It obviously wasn’t a lethal dose, but it was most definitely arsenic trioxide, which isn’t naturally occurring. May I ask how the cat is doing?”
Ember blinked a couple of times as she tried to refocus her thoughts. She wasn’t surprised by the results, but the implications behind it only added to her already tumultuous emotions. “Um, the cat is doing fine.”
“Have you already reported this to the proper authorities? I want to stress that the chances of a cat encountering and ingesting this at random are highly unlikely.”
“Yes. I reported my suspicions before I even sent it in. It’s part of a murder investigation.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I’ll make sure to give a copy of the full report to the police.”
Ember reached out blindly with the receiver and clumsily hung it up as Gary was still saying goodbye. One thought was roaring through her head, and there wasn’t anything Ember could do but acknowledge it.
There was a serial killer in Sanctuary.
TWELVE
“You have to tell Walker.”
Ember slowly pushed the last bite of strawberry-glazed cheesecake around on her plate. Her fork scraped slightly, making her cringe. She looked up at Nathan and nodded as she let out her pent-up breath. “I know you’re right. It’s just that Becky begged me not to.”
Dinner had been amazing and couldn’t have come at a better time. Ember needed the distraction. Nathan brought all the food to her house and prepared a three-course meal, including homemade tomato soup, a tossed salad, and an amazing tri-tip steak. She didn’t care that the dessert was store bought, although he’d claimed the only reason he didn’t make it was because he didn’t have enough time. Watching him cook had been the most relaxing experience Ember had all month. It also showed a side of him she hadn’t seen or expected.
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Nathan countered. He took their empty plates to the sink in the adjoining kitchen and began rinsing and loading the dishwasher.
Ember was once again caught off guard by his domestic behavior. She wasn’t sure why. Was it really so surprising that he could cook well and didn’t mind doing dishes? She’d been inside his house a couple of times, and while it was a modest cabin supplied for free inside the national park, it had always been clean and tidy.
Snapping out of her daze, she cleared the rest of the dishes and joined him at the sink.
“I didn’t think it made sense either, at first. But then I thought about what’s going to happen once it gets out.” Ember paused with a dripping fork in her hand and looked up at Nathan, her green eyes flashing. “The town gossips are going to blow the whole thing up! It’s hard for me to imagine that this is anything more than a coincidence, or more likely, it’s a new killer preying upon the original coincidence of the date of my dad’s and Delilah’s husband’s death. But it won’t matter. Wild speculation will be regarded as truth, and life is going to be turned upside down for Aunt Becky’s family. She’s terrified about who’s names are going to be bantered around, Nathan, and I don’t blame her.”
Nathan stared at Ember for a moment, his jaw clenching as he came to the same conclusion. “And what about you, Ember? Aren’t you afraid about how this will affect you?”
Ember shook her head. “I was only a baby when Dad died and eleven when Delilah’s husband passed away. But everyone else will be fair game. I could see a witch hunt unfolding, and I don’t know if it would be worth it. It might be exactly what Allen’s killer wants.”
“You think he’s using the date as a way to further implicate Delilah?”
“Or someone else. I’ve got a feeling something bigger is at play.”
“Uh-oh.” Nathan leaned back against the counter, a dish rag draped over his forearm. “What does that mean?”
“I wish I knew.” Ember took the towel from his arm and started to wipe down the counter. “I got the results back this afternoon on the berries I sent in. You know, the ones the cat threw up?”
Nathan nodded, watching her closely as she moved.
“Arsenic. I forwarded the results to Walker and then called him. It was the same inorganic compound that killed Allen. Not nearly the same saturation in the cat, of course, but it still checks off another box against Delilah.”
“Because it implies her cat had access to it, but the likelihood of the cat being inside Allen’s cabin is pretty slim,” Nathan said, more of a comment than a question.
“Right. Except it doesn’t feel right. I don’t believe she did it. If you were there the night she told me about her husband, Nathan, you’d understand why.”
“Then who?”
Ember thought about his question as she watched him pour coffee beans into the grinder.
Daenerys scrambled out from under the table and ran into the family room. For whatever reason, she’d always been scared of the sound the grinder made.
Nathan watched the dog run out, looking concerned.
“She’s okay,” Ember reassured him. “Once she realizes the grinder monster didn’t attack, she’ll be back.”
Chuckling, he continued preparing the coffee. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I don’t know. The only thing I can put my thumb on is the connection between Delilah coming back and looking into her husband’s death.”
When Nathan looked at her questioningly, she realized she hadn’t talked to him about any of that. “She was always curious about why he died. But part of her running away was so she didn’t have to face his death. Coming back, I think she felt that in order for her to really move on, she needed to understand what happened. A week before Allen Swenson was killed, she’d gone to City Hall and requested a copy of the autopsy report.”
“And you think that whoever killed Allen did so in order to implicate her and prevent her from getting to some other truth?”
Ember nodded eagerly, encouraged that he’d quickly come to the same conclusion as her.
“But who would have killed your dad? How old was Delilah then?”
“Sixteen,” Ember replied. “And my dad was the older brother of the girl who was dating the guy Delilah recently broke up with.”
Nathan took a moment to figure it out. “You
r Aunt Becky was dating Delilah’s old boyfriend.”
Ember nodded again, but slowly.
“Do I want to know who that boyfriend was?”
“Ben Walker.” Ember nearly choked on the words.
Nathan’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, what a tangled web we weave.”
“So, you can understand why Becky doesn’t want to point out the date connection to the investigators. She doesn’t think my dad was murdered. She still believes he died from respiratory distress, but…”
“But what?” Nathan prompted when Ember hesitated. He pushed the plunger down on the French press and then poured their coffee.
Ember added cream while gathering her thoughts. “What Becky described to me today? The way he’d been improving, and then the sudden inability to talk or swallow…the convulsions. I mean, sure, you can have some of that if you’ve had a severe infection, but he would have had other symptoms leading up to it. He wouldn’t have been improving just a few hours before. His cough was better. He didn’t have a fever, just some continuing weakness from not eating much.”
“Arsenic?” Nathan took his cup in one hand and Ember’s elbow in the other, guiding her gently into the family room. They sat down next to each other on the over-stuffed leather couch and set their mugs on the coffee table.
“No,” Ember answered. A chill crawled along her spine in spite of the heat radiating from the crackling fire in front of them as she turned sideways to face him. “That’s what’s bothering me. My dad, Doug Huntsman, Allen Swenson…they all died suspicious deaths but with differing symptoms. But now that we know one of them was caused by a poison, I think we have to consider that a possibility for the others, if they were done by the same person.”
“I have to go in to work in the morning for part of the day,” Nathan said. “But if you want, I can go with you to talk to Walker in the afternoon. He needs to know. If he feels it’s significant to the investigation, he can pass it on to the Thomas County Sheriff Department.”
A growing tension in her shoulders instantly faded as Ember grasped that she didn’t have to handle the situation on her own. While she knew she could always talk to Mel about it, Nathan’s experience in law enforcement gave him a special insight that was invaluable. She trusted his opinion. More than her own at the moment.
