Murder by Misadventure

by B. T. Lord

  Cammie was no sooner through the door to her office when Emmy ran in behind her. Without saying a word, she shoved several rubber band bound baggies into Cammie’s hand.

  “What’s this?”

  “Tea from all of Torri’s tins. She had about seven of them in the cabinet.”

  Cammie’s eyes widened. “Emmy --!”

  “Please don’t get mad. I had to do this. She may be responsible for Todd and Marcy’s deaths. And she might have tried to kill you and me! I couldn’t rest until I got some of the tea for Doc to analyze.”

  Cammie took off her parka and hung it up before placing the canvas bag on her desk. “You risked your life to get something that, even if it does contain the salvia, without a proper search warrant, won’t be admissible in court.”

  Emmy’s face fell. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

  Cammie saw her disappointment, and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. Just promise me you won’t do anything this dangerous again. If the Jacksons are responsible, you’re already on their hit list. You don’t need to make yourself an even bigger target.”

  “They didn’t know I was there. I made sure to park far enough away so no one would see my car in front of their place.”

  Emmy described how she’d hidden in the shower until the two sisters left. She waited until she knew they were gone before leaving the trailer. She went home and hid the tea in her closet until this morning. “We can still have Doc examine it though, can’t we?”

  “Of course we can. And we will.”

  “What’s in there?” she asked, noticing the canvas bag for the first time.

  “Something I found in Todd’s cabin hidden under a floor board. It’s a book that holds the biography of Samuel Parris.”

  “The minister during the Salem Witch Trials? Why would Todd have something like that?”

  “Let’s get Rick in here and I’ll explain why this journal may hold the motive to Todd’s death.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “This is a case that goes back to 1692.”

  “I think we’ve passed the statute of limitations,” Rick replied.

  “Actually, there is no limitation where murder is concerned.”

  “So what do you think happened?” Emmy asked.

  “The historical record tells us that the Salem witch trial hysteria started in the home of Reverend Samuel Parris, correct?” Emmy and Rick nodded. “The historical record also tells us that one of the victims of that hysteria was a woman by the name of Anne Pudeator. Are you with me so far?”

  They nodded again.

  “What if I were to tell you that Todd believed he was descended from Parris, while also believing that Torri and Clarisse are descended from Anne?”

  “Yeah, so?” Rick asked.

  “What if the Jackson sisters sought revenge on Todd for what his ancestor did to their ancestor all those years ago?” Rick and Emmy exchanged dubious looks. “I know it sounds a bit farfetched, but let me read you Todd’s last entry.” Donning latex gloves again, she picked up the journal and flipped to the last page. “Revenge is a horrible tool. Once it’s used, there’s no calling it back, no matter the consequences. No matter how long it has lain dormant. God help me.”

  She looked up at the two. “I did some research. Anne Pudeator was a midwife. She would have known all about herbs and tinctures. From what you told me, Emmy, Torri is very proud of her teas. Who else but someone who knows their way around herbs would even know about salvia timor? Murders have been committed for far less reasons than the one I’m proposing now. You read this journal and it’s obvious Todd was racked with guilt over what his ancestor did.”

  “I suppose. It just seems a bit of a long time to carry a grudge, isn’t it?” Rick asked.

  “How would you feel if one of your ancestors was killed by someone because of greed or malice?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “Okay, bad analogy. But being part Native, I’m sure somewhere inside you’re a little ticked over what happened to your people.”

  “If I think about it, yeah. But like I said, that happened a long time ago. Would Torri and Clarisse really go as far as to murder Todd? He may have had some of this Parris blood in him, but he had nothing to do with Salem.”

  “The Bible does say something about the sins of the father shall be visited upon the sons, or something like that,” Emmy replied. Both Cammie and Rick turned to look at her in astonishment. She blushed as she shrugged her shoulders. “I do read, you know.”

  “So, suppose you’re right,” Rick said. “Suppose Torri and her sister are all hellbent on revenge for what Todd’s ancestor did to their ancestor. It still doesn’t prove anything. No offense, Cam, but you still can’t even prove they’re the ones who left the bag of salvia saturated tea on Emmy’s desk.”

  Cammie frowned. “I know.”

  “And don’t forget that $50,000 Todd gave them. Even if he gave them that money because he felt guilty over what happened a bazillion years ago, why would they shut that off by killing him? They could have played the guilt card until his bank account was cleaned out.”

  Her frown grew deeper. “True.”

  “It still doesn’t explain Marcy Audet,” Rick pointed out. “Is she related to Parris or one of those killed during the witch trials?”

  “I’ve been thinking about her. She was part of your coven, Emmy. She knew Torri and Clarisse. Who’s to say she didn’t stumble onto something she wasn’t supposed to? They seemed to have done a thorough job erasing their existence from the internet. Maybe Marcy was part of the old scenario of having to be silenced permanently.”

  “That is possible,” Emmy murmured.

  “You know,” Rick replied slowly. “This is all well and good, but the bottom line is that you still don’t have any proof that the Jacksons drugged Marcy or Todd or even you. Until we get solid proof, you’re just going to go round and round until your head explodes.”

  Cammie sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

  Just before heading to Doc’s after putting in her half day of work, Cammie popped into Zee’s for lunch. It was filled with the usual crowd, and she was lucky to get a back booth. Jace had planned to join her, but at the last minute he received a call about a break down outside of town. Alone, Cammie filled her time playing a game on her cell while she waited for her order. Just as Zee plopped down her chicken Caesar salad, her cellphone rang. Looking at the display, she saw it was Sean.

  “Hey, Sean,” she answered. “I hope you have some news for me.”

  “I sure do. It wasn’t easy getting some of this info. Your friend Torri did a good job covering her tracks. I’m thinking that week-end you promised me in Mohegan Sun just got extended by a day.”

  “If I like what you have to say, I’ll extend it by two.”

  “Wicked ah-some!” Sean exclaimed in his thick Boston accent. “Okay, here’s the dope. Torri and Clarisse’s real names are Bonnie and Susan Wallis. Bonnie owned one of those witchy-type stores in Salem, Massachusetts. She sold herbs, tinctures, all sorts of what they call ‘botanical’ products. To tell you the truth, looks like dried grass and rabbit food to me, but what the hell do I know? Anyway, for a smart businesswoman, her smarts didn’t extend to relationships. After bouncing around relationships for a while, she got married to a real asshole. He’s the kind of guy who thought with his fists, not his brain. Not, according to what people told me about him, that he had a lot of brains to begin with, if you know what I mean.”

  “How long were they married?” Cammie asked.

  “About five years.”

  “That’s a long time to be married to an asshole.”

  “Especially one that was known to knock her around. But it seems she finally saw the light and dumped him.”

  “Is that why she left Massachusetts?”

  “From what I could gather, Brian Muir – that’s his name, by the way – wasn’t about to let her go that easily. As far as he was concerned, she was his property. You’re pretty much off the
map, so she probably thought she had a chance of escaping him by moving up your way. Still, even if he had figured out where she’d gone, his accident would make sure he couldn’t follow her.”

  “Accident?” Cammie asked. “What kind of accident?”

  “This is the weird part. Seems he was driving down the road and suddenly decided to plow into a tree. Got busted up pretty bad. Cops didn’t find any drugs or alcohol involved.”

  A cold chill ran down Cammie’s back. Could Torri have slipped him the salvia as well?

  “Where did the accident take place?”

  “Let’s see.” The din was getting louder in the restaurant, and she had to press her ear against the cell to hear Sean. “Ah, here it is. Peabody.”

  Peabody was a town that lay between Salem and Danvers.

  “When did the accident take place?”

  “August of last year.”

  Cammie did a quick calculation. Torri told her she and Clarisse had moved up to Twin Ponds in May. Still, it was entirely possible for her to make the trip down to Peabody, slip the ex the drug, then drive back.

  “In case you’re interested, the name of her business was The Healing Herb. It was located right in the middle of downtown Salem. A lot of people were upset when she closed up shop, I can tell you that. She was supplying all kinds of that grassy shit to a boatload of people, including councilmen and cops to name a few.”

  The din had gotten so loud, Cammie missed the name of the shop. “What did you say the name of her shop was? The Healing what?”

  “The Healing Herb.”

  “Oh – the Healing Herb,” she repeated. “Kind of a cheesy name,” she admitted.

  “Hey, whatever works.”

  “You don’t happen to know if anyone saw her in Salem after she left?”

  “As a matter of fact, there was some kind of family reunion. They get together every August at the Hawthorne Hotel, which is located near where her shop was.” Sean chuckled. “I can hear your wheels turning now, Cam. To be honest, mine did too. She comes down for the reunion in August, ex gets into an accident around the same time. What are the chances?”

  “Exactly. Well, my friend, you’ve more than earned that weekend.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about. I’m waiting for one more piece of info. As soon as I get it, I’ll buzz you.”

  “Thanks, Sean. You’re the best.”

  “Damn right I am.”

  Cammie flipped off the phone. She was about to dig into her salad when she froze. Standing a few feet away from her at the bar was Torri. And she was looking straight at her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Cammie’s heart was pounding. Had Torri overheard her conversation with Sean? If so, how much had she heard?

  She kept her face neutral as Torri came over. “Good to see you again, Sheriff.”

  “What brings you to Zee’s?”

  “Clarisse. Now that she’s about to pop, she’s getting cravings worse than ever. Thought I’d surprise her with one of Zee’s Twin Pond burgers. It’s Clarisse’s favorite.”

  Zee’s Twin Pond burger was a pound of Angus beef, topped with mozzarella, basil and sliced tomatoes, drizzled with his homemade pasta sauce. She tried to study Torri without being obvious about it, hoping to see if her conversation had indeed been overheard. But Torri remained friendly and casual. Cammie decided to take a chance.

  “Why don’t you sit while Zee gets it ready for you?”

  “Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.”

  Somehow Torri managed to squeeze her bulk into the booth.

  “You find out anything more on Todd’s death?” she asked.

  “Not really.” Torri wasn’t the only one who could lie when she needed to.

  “Ain’t surprised. As much as I tried to get him to stop, Todd liked his liquor. Maybe he drank to forget his past. Maybe he did it to get rid of the pain of his nervous stomach. At least before he had some of my teas.”

  Cammie clamped down on the surprise starting to form on her face. “Your teas?” she asked as informally as she could.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard, I make my own teas. It’s a family tradition. As far back as I can remember, the women in my family were herbalists, believing in the natural healing abilities of plants. I’ve got teas for all kinds of things. Menstrual cramps, joint aches, headaches, colds.” She looked at the sheriff and smiled broadly. “I even got one for love.”

  Cammie pretended to look interested. “Really?”

  “It’s hard not to walk around town and hear about you and your break-up with that hunky mechanic. Now obviously I don’t know the particulars, but he sure is someone who could keep the cold away on these frigid winter nights.” Torri cackled. “Any time you want something to get the ball rolling with him, so to speak, come on by. It’ll be on the house – just to show you I don’t hold any grudge on you thinking Clarisse and I had anything to do with Todd’s death.”

  “So you were making Todd some tea?”

  Once again Torri surprised Cammie with her reaction. “He loved my ginger tea. Ginger is good for the digestive system. Poor Todd had issues with his belly. He told me my tea was the only thing that calmed it down. In fact, I used to make him up a baggie of my ginger tea once a month. I swear he became addicted to the stuff.”

  “When was the last time you gave him some of this tea?”

  “About two weeks before he died. He came by and while we were watching TV, he asked for some.”

  “You must have a lot of people interested in your teas.”

  “The word is starting to get around.”

  “What about Marcy? Did you make her any of your special teas?”

  “She was suffering from depression, so yeah, I helped her with that.” Torri looked pointedly at Cammie for a moment. To the sheriff’s surprise, she abruptly tilted her head back and roared with laughter.

  “Honestly, Sheriff. No offense, but do you honestly think Todd and Marcy died because of some teas I made for them?” She leaned over the table. “And do you honestly think I’d be that stupid to be so obvious if I did put something in their tea? That’s rich!”

  Cammie shrugged. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask. Tell me,” she added, “have you made any teas for Emmy?”

  “Now you know I have. She told me it worked wonders for your arm and head.”

  “I have to say, it did work wonderfully. Unfortunately, Emmy gave me the last of her tea.”

  Torri snapped her fingers. “Damn, she called me asking for more, but I completely forgot. It isn’t easy dealing with a heavily pregnant woman whose temper was never very good to begin with. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll make up more as soon as I get home.”

  At that point, Zee came to the table with a brown paper bag containing the burger. Torri took the bag, then stood up. “See you later, Sheriff.” She started to leave before turning back. “Look, I don’t expect you to believe me, but like I said, I come from a long line of healers. Our job has been and always will be to heal, not to harm. Now if Todd or Marcy put something in the teas I made them, nothin’ I can do about that.”

  Cammie turned and watched her leave the restaurant. Either the woman was the consummate actor, or she was innocent of trying to drug Todd, Marcy and Emmy. She’d been more than eager to share her expertise, taking pride in her teas just as Emmy had told her. What struck Cammie was the fact that if Todd drank her tea as regularly as she claimed, and she’d given him some two weeks before his death, why was none found in his cabin?

  When she arrived at Doc’s that afternoon, she shared her conversation with Torri. Doc lifted an eyebrow when she was done. “That woman is one cool customer. She actually admitted to making teas for Todd and Marcy?”

  “Yes, she did. When I told her I’d used the last of Emmy’s teas, she said she’d forgotten to make more for her and would do it this afternoon.”

  “Well, obviously someone made the tea that sent you into the Twilight Zone. Maybe you’ve been wasting yo
ur time. Maybe it really isn’t Torri, after all.”

  “The only other person who may have knowledge about making teas is Clarisse. I’m sure she’s watched her sister make teas. She’d also have easy access to the ingredients.”

  “Until you get a search warrant, or figure out who’s behind all this, I suggest you and your staff stay as far away from anything that even remotely looks like tea.”

  “Good idea.”

  Cammie spent the next morning placing calls to Danvers, Massachusetts in an effort to find out all she could about Bonnie and Susan Wallis, aka Torri and Clarisse Jackson. She was amazed at how high up the social and political ladder the admiration for Torri and her teas went. Although everyone was careful not to say anything derogatory about Clarisse, it was easy to read between the lines that they didn’t think too highly of her. However, when it came to Torri, they couldn’t say enough nice things about her. It was unanimous how much they missed her store and her presence in their town. A few even admitted they still had Torri make teas for them, paying for express mail delivery.

  “You’re lucky, Sheriff Farnsworth,” the mayor gushed. “She will be an asset to your little town.”

  By the time she hung up, doubt was beginning to prick her gut that maybe Torri really was innocent. If so, that left Clarisse. As she began to ponder that possibility, her cellphone rang. Looking at the display, she saw it was Sean. Giving her the last piece of information he’d promised to track down for her, Cammie listened with growing excitement. When they were done, she corralled Rick and shared all she’d discovered over the last twenty four hours. “Why don’t you use that considerable charm you have with the ladies, and ask the Jackson sisters to come down to HQ to answer some questions?”

  “I was wondering when you were going to give the go ahead. You think you’ll be able to crack them?”

  “To tell you the truth, no. But armed with the truth about them, I’m more interested in observing their body language. Especially when we ask about salvia timor.”

  An hour and a half later, Cammie was seated in the interrogation/conference room with Torri while Rick sat in Cammie’s office with Clarisse. She had yet to meet a woman who was immune to Rick’s charms, and knowing how much Clarisse hated her, it was decided Rick would interview the sullen woman. Both rooms had cameras which were recording the proceedings for later study.