Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery)

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Mom would have had a coronary.” I giggled.

  “Do you want me to help you look?”

  I shook my head. “Go ahead and eat. I’m not sure what I’m looking for anyway. You can help when you’re finished.”

  Half an hour later, I found what I’d been looking for. “Duane, listen to this. I think this might be it. I won’t read it word for word, just the interesting parts. There’s a lot of medical mumbo-jumbo, but here goes. Versed, or Midazoliam, is a clear, red or purplish cherry-flavored syrup. It’s used for relaxing someone before a surgery. Hey, they sometimes use it to relax prisoners who are about to be executed.” I ran my finger down the page. “Listen, this is interesting.

  “Symptoms include loss of short term memory, ‘waking up’ again and again, but not remembering what happened a minute before. Oh, don’t take it if you’re doing opiates. Not a good thing. Some people wake up angry, but that’s rare. You have total amnesia while under the influence. Do you think dentists use it? Would sure make having your teeth drilled easier to suffer through. The drug makes you groggy and disoriented. I bet that’s what happened to Sharon Weiss. She fell and hit her head. That would make the suspect a murderer times two.” I glanced up. “Duane?”

  His eyes had a glazed effect, and he grinned with one side of his mouth. “Why are you wearing a hat?”

  “I’m not.” I put a hand to my head. “I had my hair cut, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Why are you wearing a hat?” His words slurred and the glass of milk shattered to the floor.

  I leaped to my feet. The book fell with a thud to the floor. “Duane!” I shook him. His head lolled back and forth as he tried to focus his gaze on me.

  “You’re beautiful. What’s your name?”

  The plate of cookies on the end table screamed at me. It all suddenly fell into place. That’s how the suspect administered the drug. “How many cookies did you eat?”

  “About a million.”

  “Good grief.” I dashed for the phone and called nine-one-one. Bags of groceries sat on the kitchen counter. That’s what Mom had dropped off; not the cookies. I almost dropped the phone. I’d eaten cookies at the store. So had Lindsey, and Sharon had rattled on about me sending her cookies that tasted funny. Oh, Lord, help us.

  I carried the phone with me to the living room. I should have noted how many cookies had been on the plate. Eight sat there now. Could it be safe to say a dozen?

  “Hey, beautiful. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Marsha.” Oh, Lord, he doesn’t know me! “The ambulance is on its way. It’ll take ten minutes. Hold on, sweetheart.”

  “That’s my name? Funny name for a guy.” Duane tried to stand and wobbled.

  I dropped the phone and propped a shoulder beneath his arm. Heavy! With knees buckling, I eased him back into the chair. “You stay there.”

  “Okay.” He grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. His hands roamed in places they shouldn’t. Wrestling him was like fighting an octopus. “Mars Bar, I love you.” His eyes closed, and his head fell against the back of the chair

  I felt for a pulse. Steady and strong. When I got my hands on whoever was poisoning the residents of this town, I’d make sure I had my Tazer ready, and I’d zap them more then once. I hadn’t finished reading about Versed, but I was pretty sure if Duane was allergic to it he’d have stopped breathing by now. Worst case scenario; he’d wake up with a great big headache.

  By sheer willpower I held myself together and avoided the now awake but groggy Duane’s groping hands until the paramedics arrived. They nodded as I explained my suspicions and said they’d pass the information on to the doctors. They could determine with a blood test whether Duane had the drug, Versed, in his system. Fortunately, an antidote existed.

  As they wheeled my beloved out on a gurney, I grabbed my purse, made sure my cell phone was inside, locked the front door, then dashed out to my car. I’d call Bruce on the way. With one hand, I started the ignition and with the other punched in his number.

  “Not again.”

  “Hush. This is important. Duane’s being taken to the hospital. I think he ate cookies laced with Versed. I also think that’s what happened to me and Lindsey. The leftover cookies are in my house. Get the spare key from the flower pot beside the door.”

  “Whoa, slow down.”

  “I can’t talk anymore, Bruce. Didn’t you hear me? The ambulance is taking Duane to the hospital!”

  “Okay. I’ll get the cookies from your house, drop them at the station, then meet you there.”

  I phoned Mom. “I won’t be back at work. The paramedics are taking Duane to the hospital.” Tears clogged my throat. “He ate poison cookies.”

  “Cookies! Where’d he get them?”

  “He said someone left them on the front porch.”

  “Why would you let him eat something you had no idea where it came from?”

  “I thought you left them.”

  “I wouldn’t give him poison cookies! Gracious, Marsha. The groceries I left are clean.”

  “I didn’t . . .oh, never mind. Can you close the store and come to the hospital?” A sob ripped from my throat. “I need you.”

  “I’ll beat you there, sweetie.”

  What if something happened to Duane? What if I was wrong about him having an allergic reaction? Maybe it took longer than a few minutes for the body to react. I coaxed the Prius to a faster speed.

  Life without him would be unbearable. Robert’s death had been tragic enough. I’d loved him in my own way, but not the soul-encompassing, heart-wrenching love I felt for his brother Duane. The tears flowed unchecked, running down my cheeks and soaking the neckline of the tee shirt I wore under my faithful overalls.

  The thirteen miles to the county hospital might as well have been a hundred. The road stretched before me like an unending asphalt ribbon. Maybe I could’ve asked Bruce for a police escort. I pressed harder on the gas.

  Red and blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. I contemplated speeding ahead and suffer the consequences later, but couldn’t stomach one more thing going wrong. Gravel crunched as I pulled to the shoulder of the road.

  I watched as the officer marched to my window, one hand on the weapon at his belt.

  “Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?”

  “About seventy-five.”

  He stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Are you all right? You’ve been crying and that, coupled with speeding, is not a good combination.”

  “My boyfriend was just taken to the hospital.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “Can you call Bruce Barnett? He should be enroute as we speak.”

  “Why should I call him?”

  “Please. I’m in a hurry, and I’ve already explained everything to him.” My voice rose to near hysteria level.

  “Settle down. I’ll make the call.” He stepped away and unclipped a phone from his belt. His gaze stayed on me as he spoke. “Roger. Follow me, ma’am.”

  The officer roared away with me hot on his tail. Bless you, Bruce. I’d try not to think ill of him ever again.

  Mom, Leroy, and Lindsey waited in the parking lot. “Cool, mom. An escort!”

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom wrapped her arms around me after I slid from the car. “They’ve taken Duane inside. The doctor said to wait in the visitor’s room, and he’ll let us know when he has news.”

  I nodded and swallowed against the fresh threat of tears. As we turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of the side of my car where Melvin had hit it with his lawnmower. A thin scratch ran near the rear bumper. Light blue paint flashed like a beacon. Lunging into the front seat, I withdrew the envelope containing the title and opened it. A blank sheet of paper fell out. Why hadn’t I checked sooner?

  I knew the name of our thief and murderer.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Marsha, are you coming?” Mom laid a hand on my arm.

  “Is Bruce here?” Withdrawing from the car, I left the fake title on the seat and f
aced my mother.

  “He left about ten minutes ago, and said he’d be back in an hour.” She peered in my face. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. Checking on Duane took first priority. I could give Bruce my information when he came back. As long as the suspect didn’t know I’d figured anything out, we still had time. “I want to see Duane.”

  As soon as I sat in one of the green striped chairs in the waiting room, a doctor in scrubs entered. “Marsha Steele?”

  I popped up. “That’s me.”

  He smiled. “Mr. Steele can see you now. He’ll be fine. We’re keeping him overnight for observation. The tip you gave us was right on. He digested a rather large dose of a medication commonly known as Versed. We’ve administered an antecdote.”

  “Thank you.” I tore down the hall as the doctor called out Duane’s room number.

  Duane sat up and grinned as I burst into his room. I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. He rubbed my back. “Sweetheart, I’m going to be fine. I’m still a little dopey, but that’ll pass.”

  “You scared me. When you didn’t know my name, well, what if your memory loss would’ve been permanent?”

  He tilted my face so I’d look at him. “Then I would’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”

  After planting a kiss on his lips, I moved to recline beside him. Within seconds, his breathing slowed, and I realized he’d fallen asleep. With the utmost care, I slid from beneath his arm and stared down at his face. The dark shadow of whiskers colored his face. Lashes a woman would die for rested against rugged cheeks. Full hair, showing a few strands of silver, topped off the beautiful picture. Mrs. Duane Steele. Yep, I liked the sound of that, and if he didn’t propose soon, I’d do the asking myself.

  Guilt over not loving Robert as he’d deserved almost caused me to double over in pain. How could I have married him and born his child, knowing I’d still loved Duane? Sobs shuddered through me. I was a horrible person.

  In his way, Robert had known. That explained his staying out late more and more often as the years progressed. The reason he hadn’t wanted to seek out his brother. Their separation had been my fault. Forgive me, Robert. My soul cried out for peace. Fear clogged my throat. What if I couldn’t love Duane as he deserved? Maybe I was incapable of a love that deep.

  No, I knew God loved me and forgave me of my selfishness the moment I asked. The best thing to do would be to move forward and be the best person I could.

  I slid from the bed, planted a kiss on Duane’s forehead, and made my way to the restroom. After washing my face and patting my hair into place, I shuffled back to the waiting room.

  Mom hugged me. “Bruce is in inside. I mentioned you wanted to speak with him.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped in to deliver my news. “Bruce, I want you to sit down and not interrupt until I’m finished. When I’m done, if you still think I’m off my rocker, then I’ll step aside and not interfere in your investigation again. Agreed?”

  “You’re always off your rocker.”

  I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow in what I hoped was the perfect imitation of my mom’s intimidating ‘mother’ look. “Agreed?”

  “Fine.” He crossed his arms.

  Beginning with Sharon Weiss’s death, and counting off every one of the robberies that followed, plus The Corner Store and Kyle Anderson’s death, then moving on to the paint on my Prius and the blank sheet of paper, I squared my shoulders. “By now you know Duane was poisoned by Versed. All the times we’d eaten cookies, dropped off by a so-called, well-meaning friend, we’d been eating the medicine. Out of stupidity. . .” I held up a finger to stop his comment.

  “We didn’t check to see where the cookies came from. We assumed they came from well-meaning people. Also, I believe Sharon Weiss ate Versed, grew disoriented, thus falling to her death. Plus, Stephanie Jackson’s husband is a pharmacist. Super easy for her to get her hands on drugs.

  “Now, are you going to arrest her for the thefts in this town and the murder of Kyle Anderson?”

  Bruce whipped his cell phone from his belt and phoned in the order to pick up Stephanie for questioning. He glanced up at me. “You did good.” With those words, he marched from the room, his shoes clicking against the tiled floor.

  Duane was awake again and held his arms open. I slid into the place I most wanted to be in the world. “You, my love, are an amazing woman.”

  “I did pretty well for myself, didn’t I?” I closed my eyes against the knowledge I’d be in the market for a new car again. Maybe there’d be someway I could keep the Prius.

  The ringing of the bedside phone woke me. After several fumbling attempts to grasp the handset, I succeeded. “Duane Steele’s room.”

  “Marsha?”

  “Bruce?”

  “Stephanie has vanished. Her husband has no idea where she is. A suitcase is missing, along with the money they’d saved for the adoption. Don’t go home alone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “You think she’s going to come after me?” I bolted to a sitting position. Duane stiffened beside me.

  “Just a precaution. There’s no way she can know we’ve figured it out.”

  We? Marsha Calloway Steele solved the crime with no support from River Valley’s finest. Stephanie had to know I would check the title eventually, even being the procrastinator I am. I chewed the inside of my cheek. Everyone knew I’d been nosing around. It wouldn’t be hard. That’s why the two night-time visits to my home. “Okay, I’ll stay here until she’s caught.” I hung up.

  “What?”

  “Stephanie wasn’t home. It appears she’s skipped town. Her husband had no idea she’d been stealing.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “He thought she was really good at saving.”

  Duane grabbed for my hand. “Where are you going?”

  “To let my mom know the latest and to grab a bite to eat from the cafeteria.” I bent and delivered a kiss to his forehead and grabbed my purse. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Mom listened with a grim expression while I recounted my conversation with Bruce. Leroy laid an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll watch out for your mother and daughter. You stay here with Duane.”

  “Thank you, Leroy.” I gave him an impulsive peck on the cheek. “I couldn’t trust them in better hands. Y’all go home. I’m getting something to eat. Duane and I should be able to join you in the morning.”

  I watched the three of them leave then turned to find my way to the cafeteria. A hand reached out of the women’s restroom and yanked me inside. I stared into the barrel of Stephanie Jackson’s gun. My heart skipped a beat. “Hello, Stephanie. Bruce is looking for you.”

  “He won’t find me.” She motioned for me to walk ahead of her. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” The first stirrings of anger simmered within me. How dare she do all the horrible things she’d done, then accost me in the hospital?

  “None of your business. You won’t be around long enough to care. There’s a lot of places in these hills to leave you. By the time someone stumbles across your body, I’ll be in Mexico and the proud mother of a beautiful little girl.”

  The saliva dried in my mouth. “Do you actually think they’ll let you adopt a child after this?”

  “They’ll see the color of my money and won’t ask too many questions.”

  “You won’t be able to bring the child back to the states.” I hoped she would like Mexico.

  Stephanie poked me in the spine all the way to the parking lot and beside a dark green Toyota. If I looked closer, I knew I’d locate a smear of white paint on the bumper. The knowledge the woman had tried to run a couple of innocent kids off the road raised my blood pressure.

  “Get in.”

  I slid in the driver side door and climbed over the gear shift to the passenger side, dropping my purse on the floorboard. My brain spun trying to figure out where we’d go that the others could find me. Keeping her gun
trained on me, Stephanie backed from the parking lot and headed east on Interstate 40.

  “Since you’re going to kill me anyway, can I ask a couple of questions?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I don’t like killing you, Marsha. I’d hoped we could be great friends. We’d share parenting stories, have play dates. That sort of thing.”

  As if. Didn’t she realize my child was fifteen? “Why the stealing? If you were meant to be a parent, there are other ways.”

  She chuckled. “I thought you’d want to know how I figured out you knew it was me.”

  “Okay.” That would’ve been my next question.

  “I went to your place today after hearing Duane ate the cookies meant for you. Mark has a police scanner, so it’s easy to keep up on what’s going on. I’d suspected for a while that you were getting close to figuring things out, and I put enough medicine in those cookies to knock out a horse. Having a pharmacist for a husband comes in handy, doesn’t it?” She giggled. “Anyway, it worried me. I don’t have anything against that handsome man. Thought I might have put in too much. I broke in, saw the medical journals turned to a compromising page, and put two and two together. Brilliant, aren’t I?”

  “What did you do with Cleo?”

  “Locked her in the shed. She’s got a big bark, but still caved under a handful of dog biscuits.” Stephanie whipped the wheel to take us down Highway 64. “I should’ve poisoned those too, but I’ve got nothing against animals.”

  “Why did you kill Kyle?”

  “That man was too smart for his own good, and even nosier than you. He was in the pharmacy filling a prescription and saw me in the back filching drugs right under my dear husband’s nose. He was going to blackmail me.”

  I nodded. “How much did you put in Sharon’s cookies? The way I figure, she ate them, then fell and hit her head.”

  “Good guess. That woman really ought to learn to lock her front door. It’s too easy to waltz in and drop something off.”

  Stephanie Jackson was officially crazy. My stomach growled. “Any chance we can get something to eat?”