“Is she gonna be here all the time?” Reed and Meeka never really got along.
“The Whispering Pines Sheriff’s Station officially has a K-9 unit.” I gave him a big grin and a pointed look. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He mumbled that he didn’t, and something else I couldn’t make out, and returned to whatever he was reading on his computer.
“I’m going to grab some lunch. Can I get anything for you?”
“No, thanks. Mother said if I wasn’t back in an hour she’d assume I got the job and would bring me something.” He held up a hand before I could say what I was thinking. “Don’t worry, she won’t be coming by often.”
Meeka and I walked to Grapes, Grains, and Grub where I sat on the pine tree-shaded deck with a few dozen tourists and enjoyed a bacon, lettuce, avocado, and tomato wrap, fries, and a vanilla shake. Meeka got to play with a group of other dogs in the fenced-in area Maeve had set up for her patrons’ furry companions.
We headed straight back and had barely entered the station when Reed announced, “Dr. Bundy called, about half an hour ago. He’s got news on your dead guy from yesterday.”
“Already? He said it might be a few days.”
Reed held his hands up in a don’t know gesture. “He said he has to leave early today so wouldn’t be there for much longer.”
I went to my office and immediately dialed Dr. Bundy’s number.
“I was going to give you another five minutes,” Dr. Bundy said in lieu of a standard greeting.
“You found room in your lineup for my dead guy?”
“Deaths in Whispering Pines are rarely what they seem. I admit, curiosity got the better of me and I bumped him ahead of a few others. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Thanks, Doc. So? Does this one fit with the other recently deceased from here?”
“Honestly, it was a bit of a letdown for me. I’m betting you’ll find it interesting, though.”
“Was he murdered?”
“No, he wasn’t murdered. Care to guess again?”
“You said you were about to leave the office. Unless that means you’ve got a couple of hours for me to take stabs, you should probably tell me.”
“True. We’re having a little gathering at our place tonight. My wife is making pot roast for dinner. I love her pot roast. Nice and rare.”
The fact that a man who cut up dead bodies all day enjoyed near-bloody meat for dinner didn’t surprise me nearly as much as it probably should.
“Hang on.” He shuffled through some papers. “Want to make sure I’ve got the right info for you. Like I said, I’ve had a lot of bodies on my tables lately.” More shuffling. “Okay, got it. He drowned.”
“What? No, you must have the wrong file. I rescued him from drowning. Remember?”
“It’s called secondary drowning,” Dr. Bundy explained. “Some call it dry drowning, but that’s a different set of circumstances. During his struggle, your guy got just enough water into his lungs to impede proper oxygenation.”
“All those hours later, nowhere near water, he drowned?”
“That’s what I’m telling you. His symptoms probably included chest pain, tiredness, coughing, and irritability. Basically, his breathing became impaired and he asphyxiated. It’s common for victims to live for many hours before expiring. Your guy fits the profile, so to speak.”
“You found nothing else suspicious on his body? No injuries of any kind?”
“Nothing that could have caused him to asphyxiate. That’s what I’ll be listing as cause of death.”
“What about that white stuff around his mouth and nose? It looked like pillowcase fibers to me.”
“It was foam residue. Another common thing in drownings. Foam bubbles up from inside and exits through the mouth and/or nose. I found trace amounts of foam on his face, too, which tells me there was more initially, and someone wiped it away.”
“One of his friends performed CPR. She probably removed it before beginning.”
“That would be my assumption as well.” He paused, flipping through papers, probably checking to see if there was anything else he needed to tell me. “That’s all I’ve got.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” This explained why no one I interviewed could provide any helpful information.
“You sound disappointed, Jayne.”
“Do I?” I laughed. “I guess after the other ultra-involved deaths here, this one is rather tame. Not that I wanted there to be another murder here.”
“I understand what you mean.”
I paused a second before asking, “Doc? Did I miss something? Did I do anything wrong?”
“You told me that when you came across this man he was tangled up in some weeds, correct?”
“Right, he was in a little cove. The water is warm and still there, which is why the weeds grow so thick in that spot.”
“I found tiny bits of plant material in his lungs. The damage was done before you got to him.”
“I understand that.” I still felt sad about the situation. Nice guy, my age, headed for a bright future. “After such a traumatic event, I feel like I should’ve taken him in to get checked out.”
“Did you ask if he wanted to go?”
“Yes, but—”
“We’re talking about a full-grown adult man. You couldn’t have forced him.”
“I know. But if he would have gone?”
“Then he would probably be alive right now. Don’t beat yourself up over this, Jayne. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He waited to see if I had anything else to say and then changed topics. “I have something that might cheer you up.”
I took a deep breath and shook my head, forcing thoughts of Barry out of my mind for now.
“Cheering up would be nice. What have you got for me?”
“Maybe ‘cheering up’ isn’t the right term, but I got a hold of someone in records. Your grandmother’s autopsy report should be in your inbox now.”
I spun to my computer and wiggled the mouse to wake it up. Sure enough, the subject line of the last item to hit my inbox read FULL AUTOPSY: LUCY O’SHEA. I slumped with relief as my adrenaline level soared at the same time.
“This is great. Thank you so much, Dr. Bundy.”
“I’ll send over the preliminary autopsy on your guy before I leave for the night. Let me know if I can help with anything regarding your grandmother. I didn’t have time to look over the report, so I have no idea what you’re about to see.”
“Will do. Go enjoy your pot roast.”
Try as I might, I couldn’t get myself to read Gran’s report slowly. I flipped through the pages at lightning pace and then went back to the start. Among the many details and photographs, two things stood out to me like a neon sign in the middle of the village commons.
First, my grandmother didn’t drown like we’d been told. Unlike poor Barry, there had been no water in her lungs. This meant she was already dead when she ended up in her bathtub. Which meant someone put her there. As the reality that someone had killed my grandmother took hold, my vision tunneled and I felt like I was going to pass out. I leaned forward in my chair, putting my head between my knees, and waited for things to clear.
Meeka, who’d been wandering around exploring the station, was in front of me in a flash. She pawed at my hands dangling off my knees, her little claws gently scratching me. When I didn’t respond, she licked my hand.
“I’m okay, girl. This is a nightmare, though. Someone killed Gran.”
As though she understood, Meeka let out a mournful whine.
Once I was sure I wasn’t going to pass out, I sat up and turned back to my computer. The second thing that stood out to me in this report was the image currently on the screen. I’d seen it before, someone had drawn it all over the walls of my house. A lower case “y” with an extra-long straight tail, a horizontal line crossing the tail near the bottom. Below the line and to the right of the tail was what looked like a lower case “m.” Beneath it all,
a lower case “w.”
Morgan had identified it for me as a symbol from the Theban or Witch’s Alphabet. She said witches used to use the alphabet, a few still did, as a sort of encryption in their spell books to keep others from being able to read it. This particular symbol meant full stop or period. As in, at the end of a sentence.
The fact that this symbol had been drawn over the heart of the dead woman I found in my backyard had delivered a chilling message: full stop, end of life. The fact that it had been drawn in the same place on my grandmother, according to the picture on my computer screen, led me to believe it had to be the same person.
Chapter 9
Reed looked up from his computer with an expression I recognized. It was the same one my sister used to get when she had information to share. Usually, being the older sister, it was something I already knew, but I let her share anyway. It was easier than dealing with her demanding, at the top of her lungs, that I never let her talk. Like I could ever stop her from talking. Right now, whatever Reed had learned, I wasn’t up for a discussion about law enforcement rules and regulations.
He opened his mouth at the same moment he must have registered the look on my face and course corrected. “I take it you got in touch with Dr. Bundy. Bad news?”
I gave him the quick rundown on the autopsy results for Barry.
“Really? Never heard of secondary drowning before.” He studied me for a moment. “That’s not what the look on your face is for. Care to share?”
Good question. “Tell me something first. I need to know that hiring you was the right decision.”
“You won’t regret it. I know we started out kind of rough when you first got here, but you saved my life. And that’s not being dramatic. If you wouldn’t have figured out—”
“I know.” I halted what could turn into a mushy moment. I wasn’t up for that either. “I’m glad I was here for you.”
“I feel like I owe you.” The tops of his cheeks pinked a little and he tried to shrug it off. “Not like, you know, I am indebted to you forever.” Another shrug. “I just appreciate what you did.”
Who knew Martin Reed was such a softy?
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m sure you’re aware that your mother and I aren’t exactly crazy about each other.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Then I’m sure you can understand why I was wary of bringing you back on as my deputy.” He nodded but didn’t reply. “If this is going to work, we need to trust each other. Like I did with my old partner in Madison, I need to know you’ve got my back. That means you can’t tell your mother things that go on here. Just like I can’t tell Tripp everything.”
I waited while Reed analyzed my comments.
“I can agree to that, but in return can I ask that you don’t hold my mother against me? She’s my mother and I love her, but I understand how people feel. She’s not my fault.”
Another side of Reed I didn’t anticipate. “How about we proceed with the theory that we will trust each other until there’s a reason not to.”
“Deal.” Reed stood and held his hand out to me. “Now do you want to tell me what’s got you so upset?”
We had an agreement going forward, but full confidence had not yet been achieved. Like I did when explaining a crime to Lupe, I held back the crucial information that only the killer would know.
“I received new information regarding my grandmother’s death. Turns out it wasn’t accidental.”
“You’re saying she was murdered?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I have no idea where to start investigating this. My gut is telling me that the reason is tied to something that happened long ago.”
My gut and the fact that two people, Sugar and Reeva Long, had told me the same thing. Reeva was Reed’s aunt; no way was I ready to connect those two dots yet.
“If that’s the case,” Reed said, “you should start with those who were here years ago. The Originals.”
I smiled, pleased with his logical reaction. Maybe bringing him back was the right choice.
“As Tripp and I have been renovating the house, I’ve been going through my grandparents’ possessions. I think my grandmother kept journals but I don’t know how far back they go. If I can find them, they might help. So, if you don’t mind—”
“I’ve got probably another hour and I’ll be through with this first website you gave me. Who knew learning about the law would be interesting. I’ll close up tonight if you trust me to do that.”
All I wanted at that point was to get home and talk to Tripp. “That would be great. We’ll review what you’ve been reading tomorrow.”
Before leaving, I printed Gran’s autopsy report and tucked it into Gran’s file, which I took home with me, then Meeka and I left through the station’s back door.
“Crap.” I groaned and let my head fall back. Once again, I had forgotten that we brought the van into work this morning. It was either take the van home again or walk all the way to the marina to get the kayak. “Might as well go for a walk or we’ll have to deal with this again tomorrow.”
~~~
The marina was packed with tourists when we got there. Some were checking in their rentals for the night, but since closing was still a couple hours away, there were plenty of people just heading out onto the lake. Either way, this meant Oren and his dad Gil were dealing with boat rentals. My kayak was on the rack inside the building where Oren had put it yesterday. I grabbed my dry bag from the cargo well and went out to the changing hut to get out of my uniform. Even more than not wanting to get it full of lake water if I tipped, I was ready to be off duty.
Once changed, I stepped out of the little hut to find Lily Grace scratching Meeka’s ears. My first reaction was to hide. I was almost in the clear, all I had to do was grab my kayak and go. But then I remembered Lily Grace’s vision of the lady in the water.
“Hey.” I pointed at her hair. The not quite blonde, not quite brown, not quite curly, not quite straight mane had expanded to nearly the size of her boyfriend Oren’s Afro. “Problems with the humidity?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started.”
I smiled. “Can I chat with you for a second?”
She gave Meeka’s ears a final fluffing and stood. “Sure. What’s up?”
I led her off to the side where no one could overhear us. “I got some news about my grandma today.”
Confiding these things to Lily Grace presented a quandary for me. First, she was a teenager. Second, I didn’t believe in the woo-woo of fortune telling. Except, her visions had been spot-on, and regardless of my personal beliefs, the cop in me couldn’t dismiss tools that helped solve cases. In this situation, the personal collided with the professional. If Lily Grace could help me figure out what happened to Gran, I didn’t care where the information came from.
“She was murdered?” Lily Grace looked as shocked as I felt. “That sucks. Why are you telling me?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Do you remember the second reading you did for me?”
“Told you before, I don’t hold on to all that. My head would explode if I tried to remember the details of every reading.”
“That’s what I figured. What you told me was that you saw a lady in the water and that she had ‘black stuff’ on her.”
She looked at me and blinked, waiting for more details.
“At the time,” I said while flipping through papers in Gran’s folder, “we thought maybe you had seen a tourist who had drowned. Would drown. Whatever.”
“And I was right? Didn’t some guy drown yesterday?”
“Yes, but it was a guy not a lady.”
“You know my visions aren’t that exact.” Her tone said she needed patience when dealing with me. “I saw someone drown and someone did.”
“Maybe,” I pushed, “but you said you saw a lady in the water. You didn’t see someone who was dead in the water.”
I walked her through how the position of Gran’s b
ody, face up in her bathtub, combined with the placement of the lump on her forehead didn’t add up. It wasn’t possible for her to have hit her head on the bathtub in that spot and ended up face up.
“You’re saying,” Lily Grace concluded, “that you don’t think she drowned in the bathtub?”
“That’s what I’m saying, and that’s what the autopsy proves. There’s also this ‘black stuff’ you saw on the lady in the water.” I showed her the picture included in the report of the symbol drawn over Gran’s heart.
“Huh.” Lily Grace sounded both surprised at this revelation and pleased that she had foreseen it. “That kinda qualifies as black stuff, doesn’t it? So what is it that you want from me? Another reading?”
She held out her hands, as though prepared to read me right here on the beach, and I shook my head.
“Not yet.” I couldn’t believe I was even considering using a fortune teller to help solve a case. “I mostly wanted to tell you about the connection between your vision and Gran’s death. If my trail runs cold, I’ll stop by The Triangle and see what you can see.”
The Fortune Tellers’ Triangle was an area of Whispering Pines not far from my house where Lily Grace and all the other fortune tellers lived.
She held my gaze, her big turquoise eyes full of emotion. “Jayne, I knew your grandma. Not, like, intimately, but she was my grandma’s friend. She was around a lot, and I went to her house . . . your house pretty often. I really liked her.” She blinked and cleared her throat before continuing. “If I can help you figure out what happened, I’m all over that.”
With emotion clogging my own throat, I nodded my thanks and motioned toward the marina office. “I need to grab my kayak and head home. I know there’s something somewhere in that house that can help me with this.”
She walked with me. “I’m waiting for Oren. We barely see each other during the summer season. His dad agreed to let him take off a little early tonight. We’re going to have a picnic by the lake.”
The two teens were so cute together. I had no idea how many high school sweethearts stayed together forever anymore, but I hoped these two would. They were good for each other.
Original Secrets: A Whispering Pines Mystery, Book 3 Page 8
