Toxin Alert

by Tyler Anne Snell

  Which seemed to be fine by Dot, considering how quickly she reacted to Rihanna mentioning the realtor who had tried to start a dude ranch not too far from the inn.

  “Yeah, that was Caroline Ferry,” Dot said with a huff. She slung her dishrag over her shoulder and took a stance that exuded grumpiness. “She’s this rich lady who lives in an honest to goodness mansion. I mean that place is three times the size of this inn and she’s not even married. I heard she has a staff of five. Boggles the brain to have that much space with only one person.”

  Rihanna mentally locked away the name Caroline Ferry and pushed past Dot’s obvious annoyance.

  “So why didn’t she start the ranch? If she has a lot of money, couldn’t she have bought what she needed to make that happen?”

  Dot shook her head, but there was a smirk on her lips.

  “She wanted to build along the creek which ran smack dab across three different properties, owned by three different Amish families. Three farms. Those families turned her and her money down flat. From what I’ve heard through gossip at the market, she tried to appeal to each of them, but in the end she had to scuttle the project.” That smile grew. “I guess she found out the hard way that sometimes principles don’t have a price tag on them.”

  “Do you happen to know which farms those were? What families, I mean?”

  Dot didn’t have to think twice. She listed off the names like she was a contestant on The Wheel of Fortune and she was going for a solve she knew.

  “The Kline family, the Weaver farm and the Graber farm.” Dot hung her head a little, sympathy spreading across her expression as Rihanna had alarm bells start ringing through her head. “I guess now if she wanted to try again she might have a better shot, since Elmer and his son passed.”

  Rihanna nodded.

  “I guess so.”

  She said good-night to Dot and sent Carly a text to call her when she was done with her short undercover stint. Then Rihanna went to her room to call Opaline.

  That’s when she noticed something was off.

  When she’d left her laptop it had been tilted just enough to where she could look out of the window with a glance instead of turning her head while working. Now it was centered.

  Such a small thing, yet Rihanna paused.

  Had she done it?

  She turned to look back at her bedroom door. She hadn’t locked it when she went downstairs, since no one other than FBI agents were staying inside.

  Surely no one had come inside the room without asking.

  Or maybe you’ve had too little sleep because you’ve too many questions bouncing around in your head.

  Rihanna turned back to the laptop and decided to go with what she was sure about.

  She called Opaline.

  “Multitasker extraordinaire, Agent Lopez here,” she answered. Rihanna laughed.

  “Glad you’re feeling feisty about it,” she responded. “Because I need you to look up the address of a Caroline Ferry and anything odd that might stand out about her. When you have that, call Carly and tell her what you’ve learned.”

  Opaline might have had fun, but she was always professional when it was called for.

  “Sure thing. Want me to send it to you, too?”

  “Yes, please.” She looked back at her laptop. “And send it to my phone only—text me.”

  Opaline didn’t question it.

  “Will do.”

  The call ended and Rihanna stood still for a moment in the middle of the room before sitting down in front of her laptop again. She slid it a little to the side again for an easier view of the window.

  This time she made sure she noted exactly where it was.

  * * *

  HE WATCHED THROUGH the feed as the boy almost destroyed their plan. As soon as the woman left the room, the boy had taken advantage and hurried to the laptop. He’d already tried the other rooms during the day, but the agents either had their laptops in their vehicles or they hadn’t used them at all.

  This Ms. Clark was the only one who had been seen through the feed plugging away at hers.

  But before the boy could do more than open it and see that a lock was set up, he must have heard the liaison coming back up the stairs.

  Panic had registered on his face seconds before he’d done something that not even the man would have attempted.

  The boy had crawled beneath the bed to hide.

  He was there now, beneath the floral-patterned bed skirt, less than a foot away from a woman whose sole purpose while in town was to take down the people behind the attacks on the community.

  Which was why he couldn’t let the boy get caught.

  He sighed into the dark and picked up his gun, but not before looking back at the monitors.

  All agents were snug in their rooms.

  All except Agent Welsh.

  Like the boy, she was another problem he was going to have to deal with.

  And soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The rain came in the middle of the night and turned half of Potter’s Creek to ice. Trees were encased by it, and windshields were annoyingly coated, but that didn’t stop the community from getting up and out. The main roads were salted and still drivable once the windshields were thawed, and a horse-and-buggy were seen in the distance before Carly and Axel went in the opposite direction.

  They had a job to do, though the new bite of cold wasn’t helping Carly’s mood.

  It, like their case, was in flux.

  From anthrax to David Lapp’s basement to Rodney Lee escaping the hospital, every few hours a new problem popped up without a solution.

  Then there was the whole kiss thing.

  Noah had instigated it, yet Carly? She’d reciprocated.

  And she’d wanted more.

  That was as troubling as it was confusing.

  Why did she feel a connection with someone she barely knew? That’s not how the world worked.

  Yet, she’d woken up thinking about the farmer. Just as she’d fallen asleep thinking about him, too.

  It hadn’t helped that the night before had driven home Carly’s growing suspicion—she and Noah were a good team. He’d played his part as her date when they’d gone to talk to Rob Cantos and his friends at the bar. Rob had been an outgoing guy and had looped the two of them in for a round of drinks and a lot of idle chatter.

  Noah had been the one to steer that talk to the questions they had needed answered. All without arousing any suspicion.

  They’d found out that one of his buddies had fallen so hard for a girl that he’d left everything behind to come to the city to be with her. Something Rob hadn’t been a fan of, from the way he said it.

  “Having a lady is one thing but his focus was over one hundred percent,” he’d said. “When he wasn’t drinking with us, he was all about her. And even when he was with us?” Rob had tapped his temple with his finger. “He was still with her.”

  That’s when Carly had finally shown her badge. She got more pointed with her questions and Rob hadn’t had too much of an issue parting with the answers. It turned out he’d been talking about Rodney and Rodney wasn’t one of his favorite people, just one of his group and that group had an order to it. One where Lee was bottom rung.

  Rob had had a name for the girlfriend and a place she worked, but hadn’t known where Rodney had been staying.

  “Do you know exactly where all of your drinking buddies live?” he’d asked when Carly had pushed.

  “I can at least point you to a zip code.”

  At that, Rob had shrugged.

  “When we hung out it was here.” He’d pointed to the front doors and then to the bar. “He’d walk in through those and sit down here and then just leave when we were done. The most I got out of him was posing for a few pics.” He’d then dragged his eyes to the notepad in C
arly’s hand. “Plus, the quickest way to find Rodney is to find Talia. No matter what he’s done, he won’t leave her alone for too long.”

  So that was the information she’d decided to act on as she waited for news from the labs analyzing the anthrax samples she and the team had sent them. Preliminary analysis hadn’t turned up anything especially unique or pointed to a trail they could follow.

  Find Talia to find Rodney.

  Which was starting to feel like its own investigation, an issue Carly hadn’t bet on when they’d left Traverse City.

  Potter’s Creek sure hadn’t let up on its surprises and curveballs. Not even while the TCD team had been in their rooms, ready to turn in.

  Which was a big reason why Axel was frowning now behind the wheel,

  “I’ve worked cases where I’ve effectively been in a war zone and felt more at ease there than here in this small town.” He rolled his shoulders back. “Bioterrorism, shady development deals, bad boyfriends, Amish flying the coop. What’s next, plagues of locusts?”

  Axel’s boyish charm was absent. He needed more sleep, she guessed, judging by the bags beneath his eyes. That and the fact that, while she’d been at the Wallflower Bar schmoozing up Rob, the team had been startled awake by several gunshots outside of the bed-and-breakfast. Three to be exact.

  It had been enough to send every TCD agent to their service weapons and out into the night.

  By the time Noah had dropped Carly off, they had just been finishing their search.

  “It could be a hunter?” Carly had offered. Selena, in her matching pajama set, had shaken her head.

  “Not for this time of year and not for here.”

  “It could be someone trying to rile up a building full of FBI agents,” Max had guessed. “It’s not like there’s all that much to do around here. I imagine the youth have to get creative to get their rebel jollies off.” At that, Aria had raised her eyebrow. Max had laughed. “What I mean is that it could have been out of boredom, too. A few shots into the dark to feel alive.”

  Axel, however, hadn’t been so sure.

  “Check it out in the morning,” Carly had told Selena. “Just to make sure it wasn’t something else.”

  Then they’d gone back into the inn and made a new game plan for the next day thanks to the information about Talia and the gossip Rihanna had gotten from Innkeeper Dot.

  Now Carly was with Axel and almost to Caroline Ferry’s mini-mansion, a residence that was somewhat secluded from the city, but the drive didn’t take them that far away from the inn. It still had a good amount of trees surrounding it and, judging by the ride up the private drive, it was one of a kind in the area.

  Almost like an estate fit for a celebrity.

  “She’s a realtor, you say?” Axel asked. He leaned toward the steering wheel to make an exaggerated show of scoping out the place. “Is she also a hired hitman for the mafia? A drug kingpin? A movie star rehearsing a role?”

  Carly snorted. She looked down at her notepad and the notes she’d taken from her call with Opaline.

  “According to our dear Lopez sister from afar, Caroline Ferry was a self-made real estate developer...before she exponentially increased her worth by marrying a man twice her age who had a trust fund that would put some small countries to shame.”

  Axel whistled.

  “I was about to say, if she got all of this land and square footage from real estate, then I’m definitely in the wrong business.” There was an actual half circle drive that led right in front of a set of double doors, like it was a drop-off in front of a hotel lobby. Two other cars were pulled off to the side beneath a portico. Both were sporty, but neither looked particularly new. Though Carly would have been wholly surprised if they were anything less than a hundred grand each. “Does one of these belong to Mr. Ferry?” Axel had his eyes on the two-door, slick red car closest to them. There was clear appreciation in his voice.

  “No. Two years after they married he passed away from natural causes associated with old age.”

  Axel turned the car off and shook his head, looking longingly one more time at something he’d probably never buy for himself.

  “Who knew all we had to do to get a place like this and cars like that was to marry rich and old.”

  “A lot of people know that one, Axel,” Carly mockingly chided. “Gold diggers are real.” She dropped the mocking in her tone. “Though it is extremely rude, insensitive and judgmental of us to think that’s the case for Ms. Ferry before we’ve even met her.”

  Axel’s grin came back.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t judge anyone until they give me a reason.”

  They exited the car and were met at the front door by an older woman wearing a gray uniform with an apron. She was quick to introduce herself as a member of the cleaning staff and showed them inside and back through to a study where she lingered, as if awaiting orders.

  All of it was grand and, try as Carly might not to, she formed an opinion about the woman who owned it all before setting eyes on her.

  Caroline Ferry was absolutely in the top 1 percent when it came to wealth.

  And she was proud of that fact.

  Just as much as she was unbothered by two FBI agents being led into her home office.

  “I’ve had a lot of people in my house before, but I don’t think I’ve had any members of a task force. What did you say it was called again?” she asked after looking at Axel’s and Carly’s badges.

  Axel put his badge back into his pocket. Carly followed suit as she scanned the room around them. It, like the house, was done to the nines. Modern, smooth, bright surfaces, trinkets that screamed attempts at artsy sophistication and several paintings with frames so ornate Carly bet they cost more than her apartment’s rent. There were built-ins that ran the length of one wall, while the exterior wall was mostly window. It showed a view of a beautifully landscaped backyard with what looked like a lap pool in the distance.

  Even Ms. Ferry matched her home’s opulence. Her platinum blond hair was twisted back in a flawless bun against her head while her lipstick, manicure and white dress with gold accessories were stunning in their execution.

  Ms. Ferry was certainly the most well put together suspect Carly had ever interviewed before, that was for sure.

  “The Tactical Crime Division, ma’am,” Axel answered, all polite. While Carly was the lead agent on this case, she followed his cue on how to speak to the woman. He was the expert profiler after all. If he went polite it wasn’t because he was after an Emily Post etiquette award.

  He did it because it was easier to catch flies with honey. Not vinegar.

  “Do you mind if we take a few minutes of your time for some questions?”

  Ms. Ferry swept her arm back to two love seats, also equal parts elegant and immaculate.

  “Oh absolutely, why don’t we take a seat. Hetty?” The woman in the apron straightened, as if at attention. “Could you get us some refreshments, please? Would you two like some coffee?”

  Carly was quick to decline because she had been caught off guard by the specific offer. Too quick. Axel gave her a look while he accepted.

  Then it was the three of them in the study.

  “I bet I know why you’re here,” Ms. Ferry started. “It’s because of that nasty business with the poisoning.”

  Carly nodded. She wasn’t surprised that the woman had brought it up. There was no other reason the team would be in town.

  And with such simplicity.

  Ms. Ferry touched her chest. She shook her head and breathed out. The very picture of exasperation.

  “I can’t believe something like this would happen in our own backyard. I mean, Potter’s Creek is a stone’s throw away and those people are so modest. I can’t believe someone would do that to them and for what? It’s not like they have anything. Unless maybe it was a hate crime? You kn
ow, Hetty and I talked about that. Surely no one around here has a problem with the Amish that badly. Then again, what a crazy world we live in. I mean I heard about two men fighting in the casino not too long ago because of Amish values. Values for goodness sake! At a casino no less! Honestly, what is the world coming to?”

  This time Carly couldn’t hide her reaction that Ms. Ferry was being open and friendly. In fact, not a whiff of suspicion had come off of her yet. She wasn’t nervous. She was meeting their gaze and keeping it. In fact, if anything, she seemed excited for them to be there.

  Carly shared another quick look with Axel.

  He cleared his throat, bringing the woman’s attention back to him.

  “When you say they don’t have anything, that’s not exactly true. They have land. Some land you were actually interested in not too long ago.”

  Ms. Ferry nodded so quickly that Carly was sure her hair was going to come undone.

  “Yes! The Graber farm!” She got to the edge of the love seat and spoke like she was starring in a soap opera. “When I heard what happened, I couldn’t believe it. First the family is hurt, and then that beautiful land? So tragic. I wanted to reach out to them but it didn’t seem right, and it’s not like I could just pick up the phone to call.”

  “You wanted to reach out to them? Why, if you don’t mind my asking?” Carly followed up.

  Had Ms. Ferry tried to swoop in to buy the land from the remaining Graber family? That certainly would give credence to her having motive.

  Yet, Carly was having a hard time believing Ms. Ferry was their culprit.

  The older woman waved her off, like asking was no problem at all.

  “I wanted to express my condolences.” She sobered a little. “One widow to another.”

  The answer seemed genuine, but they had a case to solve and too much time had already passed without any answers.

  So Axel followed up with a little more pointed series of questions.

  “And what about seeing if she would sell you their land now, after everything had happened?”

  That seemed to perplex her.