Clemson drew in a deep breath and laced hands together atop his desk. “I sent off the samples from the autopsy and marked them urgent,” he started. “Any time it’s a city official, we have to consider that the death might be suspicious.”
“Agreed.”
“Initially, it looked like Bob died of a heart attack. But, as I told you earlier, I was Bob’s doctor, and he would have told me if he’d been having any problems that were out of the ordinary.”
Cassidy wondered exactly where this was going, but she waited patiently for Clemson to continue.
“Anyway, I got the report back surprisingly early,” Doc Clemson said. “And I thought you would want to know right away what I discovered.”
“I’m dying here, Doc. I need information.” He was drawing this out way too long for her taste.
He shoved a paper toward her. “To sum it up, we found traces of Nerium and Bisacodyl.”
The words sounded vaguely familiar to Cassidy, but she needed more information and she needed it more quickly than her recollections allowed at the moment. “I’m going to need the plain-speak version, Doc.”
Clemson frowned. “Oleander and a stimulant laxative.”
Cassidy tilted her head as she processed his words. “I’ve heard of people being poisoned by oleander, but I’ve never actually known it to happen.”
“Me neither. It’s fascinating, really. Oleander by itself could cause heart problems, but when combined with the stimulant laxative, there would definitely be a reaction that mimics a heart attack. It could be practically undetectable if someone wasn’t looking hard enough.”
“Did someone mix them together on purpose? Did they come up with this fatal mix just for the purpose of trying to stump police?”
Clemson nodded slowly, his intelligent gaze flickering with interest. “That’s what I suspect. Oleander sap may have been boiled into a liquid and then the laxative added. It was probably mixed into a drink that has a strong flavor. Whoever drank it was probably clueless as to what was in their cup.”
Cassidy drew in a few breaths before voicing her final thought. “So Bob didn’t die of natural causes. This was first degree murder.”
Clemson nodded with a frown. “That’s correct.”
“Thank you for the update.” Cassidy stood. She needed to call Abbott because she wondered if their other victims had died the same death.
It was a possibility definitely worth exploring.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Back at her office, Cassidy called Abbott with the update, and he promised to put a rush on having the other bodies tested for oleander and a stimulate laxative as well. She felt certain they’d find similar results.
In the meantime, Cassidy also sent a sample of the flakka to the state lab. She needed to confirm what the drug was and what strain it might be, since different gangs had different signatures they put on the substance.
At least she was inching closer to answers.
She leaned back in her chair and thought things through again.
What if Barnabas was selling these drugs? What if he used Reagan to help him with that?
And the stuffed animals . . . could they have planted the drugs inside the toys in order to go undetected?
Cassidy thought it was a good theory.
And that led her also to wonder about the three bodies they’d found. If Reagan was connected to Barnabas and to the flakka, why had she died? Had she become too much of a liability?
It seemed plausible.
That could also explain who those men were on the boat. What if they were connected to Barnabas and trying to protect their secret?
She needed to figure out a way to confirm this.
And there was only one person who came to mind.
Jimmy James.
Jimmy James reminded Cassidy of a mix of Popeye and Brutus. He worked down at the docks and had huge muscles and a stocky build. Though he looked rough on the outside, he was a good guy at heart. He also seemed to have a finger on the pulse of crime in the area.
Cassidy decided to pay him a visit. He had been a good informant in the past.
She pulled up at the docks fifteen minutes later, parked, and began walking along the boardwalk there. The scent of the sea wafted with the breeze—a mix of salty air, fish, and eel grass. The area was mostly empty, but several large boats that were kept at the area year-round floated in the slips.
A huge fishing center sat at the entrance to the property, a place where people could sign up for charter boat tours, buy supplies from drinks to tackle, or browse accessories for their boats.
Six boats down, Cassidy spotted the man in the glowing orange of the sinking sun. He was hard to miss.
Jimmy James stopped cleaning a boat for long enough to look up and smile. “Chief Chambers, what brings you here? You looking to charter a fishing trip?”
“Not quite. I was hoping you had time for a question or two.”
“Sure thing.” He put the water hose down and turned to her. “What’s up?”
Cassidy glanced around. No one else was close enough to hear. “Listen, I’m looking for two men on a skiff.”
“That could be a lot of people, Chief.” Jimmy James almost sounded apologetic as he said the words.
“I know. But I just saw them two days ago. They wore all black. Had guns.”
His face paled, and he crossed his bulky arms. “Sounds like trouble, Chief. You know I’m trying to stay away from people like that.”
He knew something, Cassidy realized. She just had to get him to open up. She knew he feared getting in trouble with the law, and she needed to put him at ease.
“I know you are, Jimmy James,” she started. “But I also know you’re an excellent watchman. Between you and me, I’m afraid these men may be guilty of killing more than one person, and I need to find them. Desperately. Is there anything you can think of to help me? Anything at all?”
He shifted, as if uneasy. His gaze scanned the docks around them before he turned back to her. “We don’t have as many boats going out at this time of year as we do in the summer, of course.”
“I know this was just a small boat,” Cassidy said. “I couldn’t get the exact make of it. And I know boats that small aren’t even launched here, necessarily. It could have come over from Ocracoke or the Mainland.”
He frowned, and his muscles flexed as he glanced around again. “You said these guys might have killed some people?”
“That’s right. They’re suspects in a murder investigation.”
He let out a breath, his gaze heavy as he looked at Cassidy. “You know I could get in a lot of trouble if people found out I was a blabbermouth.”
“That’s why it doesn’t have to go past me. This is a conversation between you and me. No one else has to know.” Cassidy’s voice was unwavering. She meant the words.
He still hesitated and glanced around. “People are going to see me talking to you.”
“What do you suggest?”
He nodded behind him. “We can use this boat. No one will see us there.”
A moment of hesitation rose in Cassidy. Though she mostly trusted Jimmy James, she still knew the man had a dangerous side. Would she be safe in there with him alone?
She prayed the answer was yes. He’d never tried to harm her before.
“Okay.” She stepped onto the yacht, Jimmy James behind her. He directed her into the cabin, glanced around, and shut the door before turning back toward her again.
“I might know who you’re talking about,” he started.
“This is important,” Cassidy prodded, sensing he was still hesitant. “Anything will help.”
“These two guys have been down at the docks. They look like trouble. I can smell it a mile away, to be honest.”
It was too bad Jimmy James had such a bad rap sheet because he’d make a good cop otherwise. The man was observant. “You ever see them before?”
“Yeah, I seen them on and off. Like you said, they mostly
wear black. Have shifty eyes. But it wasn’t my business, right?”
Her pulse spiked with anticipation. “What do you know about them?”
“Not much. And I might not have noticed them at all. But I saw them loading up a boat once, and some of their cargo caught my eye.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they had a box full of stuffed animals.”
Cassidy felt something ignite inside her. Stuffed animals? This had to be the link she’d been searching for.
“Can you describe these guys?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I think they were in their twenties or thirties. White guys. On the thin side.”
“But you couldn’t identify them if you saw a picture?”
He shrugged again. “I can’t say for sure. But I can tell you that they went into the shop to buy some supplies last time.”
“Are there security cameras inside?”
“You know it. I can see what I can find out—as long as you keep my name out of this.”
“A promise is a promise.”
Jimmy James paused and shook his head. “Chief, I know you know this. But these guys didn’t look like the type to play games. Are you sure you don’t want to let this go?”
“I can’t let this go, Jimmy James. Not only is it my sworn duty, but these guys are dangerous. They shouldn’t get away with murder.”
“I’ll see what I can find out then.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
She opened the door, ready to go back to the station armed with this new information. Just as she stepped onto the deck, something skipped across the metal, sounding like an acorn on a fall day.
But it wasn’t an acorn.
Before she could react, the world around her exploded.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cassidy hit the water. The icy cold liquid caused her lungs to instantly freeze. Her mind froze too—just for a moment—along with the world around her.
Air, she realized. She needed air.
She forced her eyes open. The water stung them, begging her to close them again, but she couldn’t.
Tiny fireballs cut through the water around her.
The boat. It had exploded.
Someone had thrown . . . a grenade onboard?
Those men. It had to have been those men.
Just then, another thought hit her. Jimmy James?
Where was he?
Eyes still open in the murky water, Cassidy rotated in the liquid world around her. Jimmy James wasn’t within her sight. She could only see shards of the boat littering the water.
Her lungs squeezed tighter. Cassidy had to make it to the surface, she realized. She wouldn’t survive down here much longer without any air.
But what if the person who did this was still there? Was still up above the surface, watching to see if their plan had worked?
Making a quick decision, Cassidy swam beneath the dock to the other side. A dark shadow floated above her.
Another boat, she realized.
She crossed underneath it before bursting through the water.
As her head bobbed above the surface, she sucked in a deep breath. Her greedy lungs hungrily gulped in air. Her chest heaved with exertion.
She swung her head back toward the open water in the distance.
A boat pulled away.
It looked like the same boat with the men who’d shot at Cassidy and her crew earlier.
They had done this.
But what about Jimmy James?
“Chief, is that you?” someone said from the boardwalk. “Are you okay?”
She glanced back and saw two men. They knelt on the ground, reaching for her.
Tate Donovan, she remembered. And Ryan Something.
They were both volunteers with the local rescue squad.
Cassidy reached for their outstretched hands. She didn’t think she could drag herself out of the water on her own strength. Her muscles felt like Jell-O.
Tate pulled her onto the boardwalk, and she clung to the ground, waiting for her world to right itself. She gasped for air, trying to get her energy back—and to remember everything that had to be done.
Her gaze jerked toward the yacht. At least, to the area where the yacht had been.
Only the bow was visible now—the rest of the boat sank beneath the water or had been blown into shreds.
“Jimmy James.” Her teeth chattered as she pointed toward the wreckage.
Ryan took off toward the boat. Cassidy wanted to go herself. But her muscles had frozen with the cold, and her energy evaporated like saltwater on a hot day.
A moment later, a blanket was draped over her shoulders. Cassidy muttered thanks and watched as Ryan dove into the water.
What kind of men carried around grenades?
Dangerous ones.
Had those men on the boat known Cassidy would be here? She didn’t think so. No one knew.
They must have seen her and been prepared . . .
The thought wasn’t comforting.
“You need . . . to call . . . backup,” she said.
Tate knelt beside her. “I already did. You need to be checked out as well.”
“I’m fine.”
“Doc Clemson might feel otherwise.”
Cassidy looked up for a better view of the dark-haired man and offered a grateful smile. “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course. I just happened to be walking outside when I saw the explosion. I’m on the volunteer rescue squad, but during the day I run the books for the fishing center.”
“Thank goodness you were near,” Cassidy said.
As the words left her lips, someone emerged from the water.
Cassidy stood for a better look.
No, that was two people.
Ryan . . . and Jimmy James.
He was okay.
Thank God, he was okay.
But that had been too close for comfort.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ty asked Cassidy again, studying her face for any sign she was in pain that she refused to admit.
They sat in Tate’s office at the fishing center, and Cassidy had changed into some yoga pants and a sweatshirt Ty had brought her. Her wet hair had been pulled back into a bun, and Cassidy had recovered enough from her scare to snap back into work mode.
“I’m fine. I promise.”
She’d called Ty and told him what happened. He’d shown up at the docks only fifteen minutes later, desperate to see with his own eyes that Cassidy was indeed okay.
That had been close, Ty mused. Too close. If Cassidy hadn’t stepped out the cabin door on the yacht when she did and been thrown into the water, she might be dead right now. Ty could hardly stomach the thought.
Jimmy James had been taken to a hospital in Raleigh. Paramedics thought he may have broken some ribs and suffered a concussion. But he should be okay—thankfully.
Meanwhile, Abbott and his team arrived on the scene to take over.
“So you think it was a grenade?” Ty asked Cassidy, still trying to get a better picture about what had happened.
She took a sip of her coffee. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Do you think these guys were watching you?”
Cassidy let out a long breath. “No, not really. Honestly, I’d guess that maybe they were coming in for the day and spotted me with Jimmy James. Maybe they just put things together and decided to eliminate the problem.”
Ty frowned. “This all sounds extreme. The fact they had a grenade? Normal people don’t carry one around. And what if these are the guys who poisoned those other people?”
Cassidy held her coffee closer, the steam from the cup rising to meet her face. “I’m not so sure these are the guys who poisoned them. My guess is that Barnabas was behind the poisoning. These guys are connected with the drugs.”
It sounded like a twisted web—one they needed to quickly unravel. “Hopefully the Coast Guard or marine police will catch them.”
&n
bsp; “Hopefully. But these guys had a head start. Too much of a head start, if you ask me.” Just as Cassidy said the words, the door opened, and Tate Donovan stepped inside.
Ty had met him once while out fishing with Austin, and the man seemed like a nice enough addition to the island—even if he did scream more big city charm than small island beach bum.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Cassidy. “Are you sure I can’t take you to the clinic?”
“I’m fine. The worst thing is the ringing in my ears. But otherwise, I just have a few scratches.”
He stood a few feet away, hands on his hips, and nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. This could have been much worse.”
Cassidy turned toward him. “Listen, I need to scroll through some video from a couple days ago. Do you have access to that? You said you worked here in the office, correct?”
“That’s right. I do books. I’d be happy to see what we have. I think we keep five days’ worth of security footage on file before our program starts to record over it. Video takes up so much space on a hard drive.”
“So I’ve heard.” Cassidy followed Tate down the hallway, motioning for Ty to come along also.
He set them up in a little room and showed them how to find what they were looking for. And then he left them on their own.
Ty watched Cassidy scroll through the feed but said nothing. He knew she needed space to process things.
“This all happened because Jimmy James was talking with me,” Cassidy muttered. “Those guys must have seen us and gotten scared. Jimmy James said he thought he’d seen the men here before. So these guys should be on the security footage. Jimmy James saw them come in to purchase some supplies.”
“They came in that day? The same day they fired on you?” Ty asked.
“That’s my impression. At least it narrows down a time.” She continued to scroll until she reached Wednesday morning. She backed the video up until she reached the time the store opened at eight and then hit play.
They watched as some families came in. A single guy. A group of older men.
First Degree Murder Page 13
