by Adrianne Lee
Chapter Eighteen
Doc Van Sheets, Father Wisdom, Daddy Comfort—the Know-all, Cure-all, Wizard of Riverdell—seemed world-weary. Drained of perspicaciousness. His brown hair was grayer than last year. It was cut too short to be mussed, but looked rumpled nonetheless. His kind blue eyes held the ache of someone who’d seen too much tragedy in too short a time. “Had to pump her stomach.”
Jake’s heart was in his throat. Kim had been treated at the hospital, then brought back home with round-the-clock nursing care, due to a lack of availability of hospital beds. “Will she be okay?”
Doc made a face. “Physically, she’s gonna be fine in a day or two. Emotionally, I recommend professional help. People bent on suicide keep trying.”
“But why?” Jake scowled. “Why would she try to kill herself?”
Mel stroked his thin gray mustache, which was silvery at the tips. He seemed to chew over what he should say. Finally, he asked, “You knew she was smitten with Cullen Crocker?”
“Yes.” Jake frowned, realizing he’d taken his cousin’s infatuation with Cullen as little more than a crush she’d soon outgrow. He cursed himself for the short shrift he’d given her feelings. He’d done a lot of that in the past. Especially to the women in his life.
He rolled his neck, easing the tension gripping those tender muscles. He’d paid for his callousness in heartache and loneliness. Too much hindsight and too little insight. He prayed to God for a chance to redeem himself. To prove he’d changed. “I suppose the whole town knows.”
Doc nodded. “More’n likely. She pretty much wore her heart on her sleeve. I called her about Cullen myself this afternoon. Thought it’d be cruel to have one of the old hens tell her. Would have come in person if I’d known she’d do something as foolhardy as this. Miserable thing, unrequited love. Glad I had the good sense never to fall under old Cupid’s spell.”
Good sense? Or bad luck? Jake pressed his lips together. The huge hole in his heart was beginning to mend. He had hope for a future with Laura, he supposed, and he now realized that life was better with love and all its accompanying baggage than without it. Would Laura and he find their way together again? Or would a killer rob them of that? “Can we talk to her, Mel?”
“Probably be a waste of time. She’s still pretty out of it.”
Jake wasn’t about to be put off. “This is kind of important. We wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
“It have something to do with Cullen’s murder?”
“Maybe.”
“Then I suppose you can try. But I don’t want my patient upset, so I’m afraid I can’t allow Laura to go with you. No offense, Laura. But when Kim thought Cullen had dumped both her and Izzy to run off with you, you became a real sore subject for her. I’m not sure she understands that didn’t happen.”
“That’s all right.” Laura sighed, the sound heavy in the muted hallway outside Kim’s bedroom. “We’ll straighten that out when she’s feeling better.”
Jake wondered how long it would take to straighten out the rest of the folks in Riverdell—if Doris Handley, the nurse Doc had tending to Kim, was any example. She had gazed at Laura with veiled hostility, had spoken curtly. By now she knew Laura hadn’t run off with Cullen, but leaving Jake at the altar was still an unforgivable offense in the eyes of most of Riverdell. Doris included.
Doc said, “I’m glad to see you back here, where you both belong. Just sorry that it’s under these circumstances.”
“I’m sorry about Cullen, Doc.” Jake knew the old man felt as though he’d lost a son and almost a daughter tonight.
Mel grimaced. “I know, boy. Whole town is mourning. Come on, let’s go see how she’s doing.”
Jake followed the doctor to Kim’s room. Ms. Handley, a muscular woman as tall as Doc, handed Kim over to Mel and left them alone, joining Laura in the hall. Jake hated subjecting Laura to such antipathy. She’d endured enough distress for one night. He gave her an understanding smile. She assured him silently that one misguided nurse couldn’t get the better of her.
When he entered the bedroom, Doc was walking Kim around the perimeter, trying to keep her on her feet and awake. They’d come close to losing her. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. He glanced away from her and his policeman’ mind took in details he hadn’t noticed earlier.
To his utter shock, photographs of Cullen littered every surface and half the walls—as though Kim had built a shrine to him. A clammy chill swept his insides. Rooms like this belonged to stalkers. Kimmie, while no stalker, showed the classic signs of obsession. Would she have eventually stalked Cullen if she could have found him?
The thought raised his hackles, and once again, he cursed himself for not realizing Kim was this close to going over the edge. Doc led her back to the bed, allowing her to sit a moment. Jake sat down beside her. Kim seemed as fragile as a kitten, her auburn hair as limp against her shoulders as her limbs on the bed. Her deep-set hazel eyes were unfocused and looked sunken and small without the severe makeup she loved. She muttered something indecipherable. Then more clearly, she said, “Culn.”
A sob tore from her throat and clutched Jake’s heart.
The doctor grimaced at him. “We really need to keep her awake. Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”
But Jake had the unerring feeling tomorrow would be too late. “I’ll walk her a bit. Just let me ask her a couple of questions. If I can’t get a sensible answer, I’ll try again later.”
The doctor nodded and stepped aside. Jake helped Kim to her feet, propping her against him. She moved sluggishly. “Kimmie, you gave us quite a scare.”
She glanced up at him. “Dake.” The word came out thick as though her tongue were swollen. “Culn.”
“Yeah, I know…I’m sorry, cuz. But don’t dwell on that now.”
“Culn.”
Jake urged her to keep moving. “Kimmie, I need the key to Mom’s storage unit.”
She heaved a sigh, as though even breathing were difficult. “Kee?”
“Yes, the key to the storage unit. Where is it?”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her thick auburn lashes lay like brush tips against her pale cheeks. Jake feared she’d dozed off. But she continued to walk with him. She wrenched her eyes open. “Decks.”
Decks? Did she mean desk? “Your desk?”
“Hmm,” she muttered, nodding as though her neck and head were connected with a single thread.
“What desk?” He didn’t recall seeing a desk in the house.
She didn’t answer, just stared at the floor. He held his breath, waiting with growing impatience, fearing Doc would terminate the interview. But she lifted her gaze to his, those hazel orbs golden and clear, as though the drug was beginning to wear off. She looked sorrowful and desperate.
“Culn.”
Doc clamped his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I think that’s all you’re going to get out of her for a few hours, son. Let’s let her be until some of the barbiturate has dissipated.”
Jake wanted to protest, but the doctor insisted. He called the nurse back inside and handed Kim over to her, with instructions to keep her walking. He led Jake out into the hall. Laura’s shoulders sagged with relief, as though the nurse had given her a harder time than he’d imagined.
She looked at him expectantly. He mouthed “downstairs” at her. Laura followed the two men to the first floor, then hung back as Jake saw Mel to the door.
Distracted, Jake wanted to find Kim’s desk and get the key to his mother’s storage unit. He scanned the living room. There was no desk here. He hadn’t seen one in her room or the other bedroom. Maybe he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Maybe “decks” meant something else entirely.
On the porch, the doctor said, “Ralph will want to speak with you first thing in the morning.”
“I want to speak to him now, Doc,” Ralph Russell bellowed, barreling up the walk.
Jake’s earlier sense of urgency attacked him anew, knotting his stomach. The last thing he needed was anoth
er roadblock. And this one was huge.
Doc hurried down the steps as Ralph joined Jake on the porch. Jake shook hands with his former boss.
Ralph asked, “How’s Kim?”
“Better. Doc says she’ll be good as new in a day or so.” Jake stepped aside and invited him inside. Everything about Ralph Russell was average, from his clipped brown hair and chocolate eyes to his height and weight to his even features and mild voice. Everything—except his brain. Ralph was a cautious man, a methodical one. He fitted questions and answers the way others did jigsaw puzzles.
The second he was in the door, his eyes landed on Laura and narrowed. He wasn’t surprised to see her, Jake realized. “I suppose Don and Susan told you about Laura.”
Ralph shifted back to Jake, his smooth brown eyebrows lifting slightly. “They had a tale to tell. I suspect she’s why you knew Cullen hadn’t left town, and I figure you won’t mind telling me your own tale. “Why don’t we sit down?” Ralph gestured to the twin love seats facing each other in the tiny living room. Taking charge was as natural to the man as reading a crook the Miranda.
Laura pulled Jake back, fear wrecking havoc with her digestive system. She whispered, “I don’t trust him. What if he killed my aunt and uncle?”
Jake leaned in close, so that only she could hear him. “Even if he did, he’s the law in this town. Investigating murders is his job. His right. I say it’s time we find out which side he’s on.”
“I haven’t got all night, you two.” Ralph withdrew a memo pad and pencil from his pocket
Jake and Laura settled down on the love seat opposite him. Jake said, “Where are Don and Susan now?”
“I didn’t get an itinerary.” Ralph poised the pencil to write. “I think we can start with how you knew Cullen might have been murdered.”
Laura told him her story, omitting self-incriminating details such as the theft of Sunny Devlin’s car, the securing of false identities and any other crimes she’d committed to stay alive.
Ralph wrote on the tablet, quickly filling and flipping pages. “Don says you’re claiming someone murdered the Whittakers for that formula Murph was so damned excited about just before he died.”
“Yes.” Laura nodded, her pulse skipping a beat at his admittance that he knew of the formula.
“But, Jake, you and Don investigated that.”
“We may have missed something,” Jake admitted.
“Or someone could have doctored their reports,” Laura suggested.
Ralph’s expression blackened. He didn’t like his department or his men’s honesty questioned. But Laura had forgotten that he’d never allowed his own prejudices to close his mind to other possibilities. The truth was what counted. Her Uncle Murphy had admired and respected Ralph’s sense of fair play since they’d been boys. He would want her to trust him now.
“What proof have you got?” Ralph asked.
“Isn’t it proof enough that someone keeps trying to kill me?” She told him about the pickup truck that had tried running them off the road earlier that night.
Ralph frowned, alarmed. “You get a look at the license or the driver?”
“No,” Jake answered. “The windows were too dark and I was too busy trying to keep us on the road.”
“It’s a small town. I’ll put my sources on the lookout for a battered pickup. What concerns me now, though, is why they’re so intent on shutting you up, Laura. If it’s just your word against Dell’s. Hell, your claims won’t hold up in court.” Ralph’s gaze was shrewd. “So, what else have you got?”
Praying she really could trust him, Laura told him about the sample bottles.
Ralph listened, his expression going from thoughtful to unconvinced. “Even if this cream and the analysis both still exist, Dell could claim they created theirs first.”
“But they didn’t,” she protested, realizing that was exactly the line of defense Dell’s attorneys would argue. “Uncle Murphy labeled the dozen sample bottles with the name Venus Masque and with the date—a full two months before Dell even started production of New Again. I know because I ordered the ingredients for both of them. Besides, Uncle Murphy’s handwriting can be verified.”
Ralph looked hopeful. “If Murph and May were murdered, then by God, I want whoever did it. Where are these sample bottles?”
“In my mother’s storage unit.” Jake placed his warm hand over her cold one. “I’m not sure where that is. Kim handled it for me and she’s in no shape to tell me much about it now.”
Ralph inched forward on the love seat, a slow grin forming. “She put Ruthanne’s stuff in storage at Dell. I helped her.”
“At Dell?” Laura gaped in horror. “Good grief, that’s like putting hens in a fox den.”
Ralph’s grin folded. “Payton turned one of the warehouses into storage units for his employees. Kim used hers for Ruthanne.”
“Then Kim did say desk,” Jake said. He started up out of his seat. “Her desk at work.”
Ralph stood. “Seems to me we should try to locate those sample bottles pronto.”
Jake agreed. “But how? It’s the middle of the night. We can’t get into Dell at this hour.”
Ralph smiled. “You can if you’re the chief of police.”
STANDING ON A KNOLL that overlooked the town and river, Dell Pharmaceuticals had started life as a private airport. Vapor lights illuminated the fenced acreage surrounding two hangars and the low-slung concrete-block structure that served as the main plant. This building housed the offices on its entrance level and two labs belowground in a basement and subbasement. All three buildings were painted a soft gray, with the Dell logo—a bright-purple squiggle—across their top quarters.
Laura, Jake, and Ralph strode up the snowy walkway and were greeted by Payton Dell himself. Strands of his white blond hair stuck out beneath his WSU baseball cap. He had the tanned skin of a man who lived outdoors, the lean body of an avid runner and the face of a hawk, his features pinched and birdlike. His green eyes looked huge behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
Laura shuddered inside. But as usual, Payton’s forbidding appearance had nothing in common with his affable nature. He greeted them profusely, as though they’d come to pay a social call. As though they were potential customers. He knew otherwise. Ralph had already told him of Laura’s claims against New Again.
Payton said, “Come in. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“We”? Laura thought. But she forgot it the moment she stepped into the elegantly appointed foyer of Dell Pharmaceuticals. The scent of eucalyptus hit her immediately and roused memories of her workdays here. She could see nothing new or changed about this part of the plant and it seemed odd. Her life had altered so drastically this past year, she supposed she expected everything else to be different someway or other.
A figure stepped from the shadows and Laura’s breath caught. “Izzy.”
“Hello, Laura.”
As usual she wore green, this time having chosen jeans, sweater and cowboy boots. On closer inspection, Laura saw that red streaked the whites of her eyes. Apparently, she, too, was taking Cullen’s death hard. She gave Laura an apologetic smile. “I behaved very badly to you. I hope someday you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Laura blinked. She was here with claims that the Dell family had stolen her uncle’s formula for a skin cream that had heftily lined their pockets, yet both Izzy and Payton were being gracious. She didn’t trust either of them. But she could play the game. “Someday is today. I’d just like this all behind me.”
“And the sooner we get those sample jars analyzed, the sooner it will be,” Jake declared, striding to his cousin’s receptionist desk. A moment later he held the key for Laura to see.
Payton said, “The storage units are in the two hangars. Kim’s is in the north one.”
The hangar had been insulated, wired for heat and divided into dozens of individual storage units. Jake unlocked the door and stepped inside with Laura. The others followed.
&
nbsp; Her gaze swung to the sea of cardboard boxes. They dominated the shelves that lined the side walls and monopolized the floor in the center of the room. Furniture was stacked against the back wall and draped with old blankets.
The unit had a ransacked look to it Laura’s chest ached. Had someone gotten here ahead of them? Or had Payton and Izzy gone through the storage before they arrived? Either way, she had the awful feeling that her evidence was gone.
With a heavy heart, she began turning toward Jake, but something silvery on one of the shelves caught her eye. Wrapping paper. Wedding paper. Her pulse kicked up two beats. It was the paper she’d wrapped the sample jars in. She took a step toward it.
“What the hell is going on here?” Travis Crocker’s voice stopped her cold. She pivoted. Everyone else had, too. They all seemed to be staring at his drawn gun. He wore his night watchman’s uniform.
Izzy stepped toward him. “Honey, what are you doing here? Payton told you to take the week off.”
“Sorry. I thought you were burglars.” Travis’s handsome face flushed with color and he returned the gun to its holster. He glanced at Izzy. “I couldn’t sleep. Had to do something. Looks like I’m not the only restless soul. Why are you all here this time of night?”
Payton said, “Laura seems to think I stole the formula for New Again from her uncle. We’re looking for the proof.”
Jake said, “It might help solve Cullen’s murder.”
“Oh?” Travis glanced at Ralph. “Is that right?”
Ralph shrugged. “Guess we won’t know if we can’t find the cream.”
“I have found it,” Laura said, sounding surer than she felt. With her insides turning to mush, she crossed to the shelf and grasped the box. It was her box. Hope and fear collided inside her. Saying a silent prayer, she lifted the lid. Four green plastic containers nestled in its depths. Tears sprang to her eyes and relief nearly buckled her knees. She clasped the box to her thundering heart and faced Jake. “They’re here.”
“Good,” Ralph barked. “I want an analysis done immediately. Can you get someone down here tonight to do that, Payton?”
