“Maybe she drugged him too,” Dad said.
“It would be quite easy to slip a sleeping pill into a cup of tea,” Morgan agreed. “Even two would go unnoticed.”
“They drank your Yule blend,” I recalled. “Alan claimed they have tea every night before bed, but he wasn’t familiar with this one. Neither was Suzette. Any odd taste from medication could easily be dismissed as being the flavor of the tea.”
Morgan frowned. “I don’t like that my tea was used with such ill intent.”
I returned to my notebook. “Alan went to bed right after Nina left.”
“The fresh tracks on the driveway.” Reed reminded me. “That’s an important detail.”
“Very important,” I agreed.
Reed caught the others up. “Mrs. LeBeau brought over a coffee cake the next morning and saw footprints and tire tracks that weren’t covered with snow. It stopped snowing around two o’clock.”
“Whoever left those tracks is likely our killer.” I was starting to feel panicky again. We had all the pieces but couldn’t get them together. “According to Dr. Bundy, the concoction would take a minimum of four hours to take effect. What if Nina drugged her husband, left the cottage for four hours, and then returned to drag Suzette out onto the patio? For some strange reason.”
“Yes!” Reed clapped his hands once in victory.
“But,” I interrupted his celebration, “we can’t prove it.”
River sat me down again. “Breathe. Center. Think it through.”
I stared into his black-brown eyes and felt my mind go still. I knew the answer, it was in my head. I needed to let it rise to the surface. When it finally came to me, I gasped.
“The security system,” I whispered to him.
His eyes lit up with understanding. “The one we installed at the bed-and-breakfast.”
“I need to get over there and check the video feed.”
Chapter 23
“Take care of the Suzette situation first,” Morgan told me as we left the station. “Call us if you need help when you’re ready to deal with Donovan.”
I promised I would. “River is very good at getting into my brain and ferreting out the things I’ve buried.”
She smiled, a look of pride that clearly showed she was madly in love with River Carr. “The two of you have a special connection. Have you noticed?”
I’d suspected for a while that River showed up in Whispering Pines for reasons other than because Morgan had manifested a father for her child. There had been a couple of times that he’d been key to helping me with situations, both professional and personal, but I hadn’t seen it as being a special connection.
I thanked them for their help and then Dad, Reed, and I headed to Pine Time. We walked in and found Rosalyn still on the couch in the great room. She looked over at us, saw Reed, and let out a little yelp of horror. She was still in her pajamas, didn’t appear to have showered since yesterday, and her eyes and nose were red from rom-com tears.
“You’re in trouble,” Dad told me.
“Me?”
“You didn’t call to tell her we were coming.” I opened my mouth to object, and he stopped me. “Go watch the video feed. I’ll defuse your sister.”
River had prepared a step-by-step instruction manual for the security system we’d installed. In exchange for getting cool new toys in the house, we had to test all the gadgets to make sure they were user-friendly and point out anywhere the instructions weren’t clear.
“Click there,” Tripp instructed over my shoulder as I brought up the feed from Friday night. He was far more tech-savvy than I was. “No, there. Now enter the time you want the recording to start.”
Meeka had joined our trio in the den and climbed into my lap to assist with the operation. I entered the military time of 2230 hours, ten thirty at night.
“Isn’t it a little weird to be watching your own house this way?” Reed asked.
“It’s even weirder,” Tripp pointed out, “to get such in-your-face proof that life goes on around you. We had no idea so many animals wandered around the yard at night.”
“It’ll be worse in the summer,” Reed said, “when you’ve got tourists wandering around out there too.”
“Thanks for that.” I kept my eyes on the screen. “I’m already freaking out over the false sense of security locks on windows and doors offer. It takes seconds to break a window and enter a home.”
“And you invite strangers into your home every day,” Reed teased.
I held a hand out to him. “Stop talking.”
Tripp pointed at the computer screen. “Headlights.”
I waited until the Thibodeauxes’s silver minivan pulled fully into view and Nina got out. I noted the time, 2308 or 11:08, in my book while Reed verbalized a possible chain of events.
“Nina Thibodeaux gives her husband sleeping pills in his tea a little after ten. It takes, what, twenty minutes for pills to start working?”
“Bump it to half an hour,” Tripp suggested. “There was a lot of food at the celebration. He probably had a full stomach.”
“Alan stated he was ready for bed at ten forty-five,” I reminded him.
Reed returned to his timeline. “She gives her husband sleeping pills sometime after ten and half an hour later Alan is ready for bed. She also slips the physician-assisted death drugs to Suzette. She leaves the house a little before eleven, gives her van a few minutes to warm up, takes five minutes to drive here.” He nodded, satisfied. “Timeline fits.”
“Dr. Bundy thought the pills would take a minimum of four hours. Let’s say Nina crushed those pills into Suzette’s tea at ten fifteen. Earliest approximate time of death would be two fifteen in the morning.”
I increased the speed of the recording’s playback to double time and slowed it when it got close to 0215.
“Pause the feed,” Reed said.
I hit pause. “Did you see something?”
“It stopped snowing. Mrs. LeBeau thought it had stopped snowing between one and two.”
I backed it up to where the snow was still falling and noted the time when it stopped. “Time stamp is 0112.”
There was no more action until four in the morning.
“There she is.” Tripp’s voice was low and soft. Meeka mimicked him with a soft ruff of agreement.
I noted that Nina Thibodeaux left Pine Time at 0409 and returned an hour and eleven minutes later at 0520.
“Five minutes to get over there,” Reed calculated, “five minutes back. That leaves her an hour to do whatever she did there.”
“She enters the cottage at approximately four fifteen,” I guessed. “She verifies that the pills have done their job, and this is where I get confused. Why take Suzette out on the patio?”
“Maybe the pills hadn’t done their job,” Tripp suggested. “Maybe she still got a pulse.”
The thought made me pause. The pills would kill her eventually. How heartless to take her outside and let the below-freezing temperatures finish the job.
Fighting back emotion, I cleared my throat. “Possible. We need to interview her to know for sure.” I grabbed the master key from the desk drawer. “Let’s go check her room.”
Tripp stayed in the den to make a copy of the 2230 to 0600 timeframe and email it to my station address. Reed, Meeka, and I started for the stairs to go search the Alcove room. I paused at the end of the hallway when I saw Dad sitting near the windows in the great room, looking out at the lake.
“Everything okay, Dad?”
He startled slightly and had a faraway expression when he turned to me. “I’m fine. I told Rosalyn that Martin is here on business and didn’t even notice her.”
“I didn’t notice her doing what?” Reed looked between us, clueless.
“Perfect,” I said with a grin to my father. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
He insisted he was, but I wasn’t convinced. We’d chat later.
“It’s empty,” Reed noted as soon as we entered the roo
m.
“Alan told me Nina was going to her parents’ house in Winnipeg. The plan, according to him, was that he’d stay here in this room while sorting out his aunt’s estate.”
“Maybe he didn’t have his things ready by the time Nina wanted to leave?”
Meeka, who had started investigating the room the second we opened the door, gave her alert signal near the table and chairs by the bay window.
“Does she smell something?” Reed asked.
“Possibly. She’s trained to detect more than illegal drugs. She’ll also alert on prescription pills including hydrocodone, oxycodone, and morphine among others.”
“Dr. Bundy found morphine in Ms. Thibodeaux’s urine.”
“Yes, he did.” I knelt next to Meeka and gave her ears a good fluffing. “Good girl.”
“Have you ever had her check this room before?”
“Not purposely. She’s been in here plenty of times and never alerted on anything. We can’t prove it was Nina who brought drugs in here, but it would be a reasonable assumption.” I cradled Meeka’s head in my hands. “Since we’ve got a top-notch K-9 on the premises, it would be in our guests’ best interest to make sure their rooms were clean. A new task for your to-do list, girl.”
She wagged her tail happily. Meeka liked to stay busy.
“I’m going to put out an APB on the Thibodeauxes,” I told Reed. “You probably won’t find anything in here, but will you check over the room?”
He pulled latex gloves out of a pocket with one hand and gave a little salute with the other. “Yes, ma’am.”
At times like this, I was extra grateful we’d put all the station’s information in the cloud. All I had to do was go downstairs to the den instead of clear over to the station to get contact information for the county sheriff’s station. More specifically, Deputy Evan Atkins. I’d had to call over there so many times since I’d become sheriff, they gave me his direct number.
“I’m actually off today,” Atkins said after I’d explained what was going on. “I’ve been off all week. Back in uniform tomorrow, though.”
“You have to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?”
“Sounds like you will too. With a job like this, you learn that the day on the calendar is a guideline. You celebrate things when you have the opportunity.”
“I hear you. I’ll send you everything I’ve got on the case but won’t take any more of your time today.”
“I’ll check it all out first thing.”
By the time I’d gotten everything set with the APB, Reed had finished checking over the room.
“Like you thought, there’s nothing up there.” He dropped into the chair across the desk from me.
I echoed him and sat back with a sigh. “There’s nothing more we can do with the Thibodeaux case right now. Hopefully someone will spot them soon. Either way, let’s shift gears and focus on Donovan now.”
“Never a dull moment around here.”
“The last week of November and the first three weeks of December were dull. It was great.”
We both found that hilarious and had a good laugh.
“What’s going on?” Rosalyn appeared in the doorway in leggings, an oversized sweater, and full makeup.
“Don’t hover there,” I told her, thinking of Briar’s warning the other night. I laughed, again, at her confused expression. I looked at Reed. “We should really fill her in now.”
He nodded. “We should.”
I pushed myself out of the desk chair, exhaustion setting in. “Let’s go out to the great room.”
The three of us, Dad, and Tripp gathered by the fireplace. Meeka joined us, wedging herself in between Aunty Roz and Deputy Reed. We explained about the harlequin dolls and what we thought was going on with Donovan.
Her expression shifted from surprise to fear and finally settled in on anger. “And you thought it was a good idea to keep all of this from me why?”
“Because,” Dad began in his soothing voice, “we didn’t know for sure what was going on. I didn’t even believe Jayne until more of those things were delivered.” He looked at me. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
I shrugged it off. “I understand. Who would want to believe they were being targeted this way?”
“You seriously believe,” Roz began, “that the Pack members are in danger?”
“There’s reason for concern, yes.” Reed patted her hand comfortingly. “It’s possible he’s playing mind games, though.”
I zeroed in on the pat. Tripp had, too, if I read the grin he was fighting with correctly.
“He’s somewhere in the village.” I didn’t feel anywhere near as certain of that as I sounded. Donovan tended to slip away just as people got close. “We’re going to find him.”
Rosalyn, now recovered from her initial shock, took on the same call-to-action attitude I’d seen in her when Jacob Jackson went missing during Samhain. The attitude that made me sure she’d be a great community advocate.
“What do we need to do?” she asked, pushing her shoulders back.
“The most important thing,” Reed said, “is that those who have been threatened shouldn’t be alone.”
“That’s why I stayed here with you last night,” Tripp told Rosalyn.
“With me?” Her fear returned. “I’m in danger?”
“Donovan sent me a doll,” I explained. “His way of getting at me would be to first go through the people I care about most—you, Dad, Tripp . . . We didn’t want to take any chances and figured you were safest here with Tripp and Meeka.”
“I accept that.” She settled back into the sofa and then grinned at Tripp. “You got to watch You’ve Got Mail.”
“And my life is fuller now for that experience,” he teased without missing a beat.
“Sheriff O’Shea?” A voice came over Reed’s walkie talkie. Mine, on the kitchen counter, echoed the words. “Deputy Reed? This is Sugar.”
My heart sank as Reed took the unit from his belt. “This is Deputy Reed. What’s going on, Sugar? Over.”
“Honey and I found two suspicious boxes in our courtyard.”
With eyes locked on mine, he ordered, “Don’t touch them. We’ll be right there. Over and out.”
Chapter 24
For the first month or so that I lived in Whispering Pines, I thought Sugar and Honey actually lived at Treat Me Sweetly in an apartment upstairs. Then I found out they lived somewhere north of the creek and west of the Meditation Circle and figured they must share a cottage. I was shocked when we arrived at their plot of land to find two identical cottages side by side with a really pretty little courtyard in front. At least, it must have been pretty when the plants weren’t dormant.
“It doesn’t matter how well two people get along,” Sugar explained when I told them about my belief, “they need a break from each other now and then.”
“We have very different decorating styles too,” Honey agreed. “I like the simple straight lines of Craftsmen style. Sugar likes pink and white, crystal and flowers. Basically, anything girly.”
I never would have guessed that. This meant their decorating styles were completely opposite their personalities. Further proof that you never really know a person until you’ve been in their home.
“Where are the boxes?” Reed asked.
“I brought them inside.” Honey pointed over her shoulder at her cottage. “We thought they might be Yule gifts. If we would’ve known what they really are, we would’ve left them where we found them.”
“Maybe lit them on fire,” Sugar added.
“You opened them?” Reed confirmed.
They both nodded, and I assured them, “You couldn’t have known. We’ve kept mum about this because we didn’t want to start a panic. Where exactly were they?”
“On the picnic table.” Sugar pointed at the table made out of pine logs, the bench seats were made from logs split in half lengthwise. “They even had big red bows on them like actual presents.”
“Come on inside.” Honey
opened the door to her cottage which sat to the north, Sugar’s to the south. “Boots off, please. And if you don’t mind, Meeka has to stay on the rug.”
“I can take her bootie’s off,” I offered.
“That would expose her claws. They might scratch my floor.” She looked down at the Westie who lowered her head as though ashamed. “You know how much I love her, but I don’t want dog fur all over my house. I just cleaned.”
“You always ‘just cleaned,’” Sugar grumbled.
We left our boots, and our K-9, on the front-door rug and found the inside of the little English-style cottage to be very different from what the outside hinted at. It was sleek and clean with gleaming medium-brown wood floors. The Mission-style furnishings were few but plenty enough for Honey and a guest. The decorations minimal.
“We spend so much time at Treat Me Sweetly,” Honey explained when I commented on her style, “and we’re always cleaning something when not waiting on customers—counters, cookware, ice cream freezers, tables, and chairs. I prefer to read and relax when I’m home instead of doing more cleaning. Fewer things mean less cleaning.”
I smiled. “You sound like my mom. She decorates the same way.”
Honey wiggled happily at the comparison. I didn’t tell her that home decorating was where their similarities stopped.
“I don’t let a little dust bother me,” Sugar dismissed. “I clean my house when it starts bugging me.”
Honey glanced at me with a see what I mean look. “Another reason we shouldn’t live together.”
“The harlequins,” Reed pressed, bored with our discussion. “Where are they?”
“You really should pay attention to these things,” I teased him. “You must be about ready to bring furniture into your place.”
“Already did.” He puffed his chest proudly. “Got a mattress on a frame and an apple crate to set my phone and a glass of water on in the bedroom. Put an old door on top of more crates in the loft that makes a pretty sturdy desk with plenty of storage. There’s a recliner in front of my sixty-inch TV and video game console.”
Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3 Page 44
