Clarissa stared at her expectantly until Sue began to squirm.
“Okay yes, I borrowed some money. But that’s just how Bobby was,” she stuttered. “He liked to live large, and he loved to flaunt his cash.” She said it very defensively, as though it somehow justified her failure to repay the loan he had given her.
Clarissa decided to back off before Sue got too offended. Rather than continue her accusatory line of questioning, she turned the conversation back to the deceased himself.
“Did Bobby have many friends?”
Sue shrugged. “He had acquaintances. And he had enemies.”
“Who?” Clarissa demanded, even though her parents had already tipped her off.
“He didn’t get along with his next-door-neighbor. Boy, did Bobby love to rant and rave about that guy! They despised each other. As for friends, I think there was really only Dave Carey. They were drinking buddies. They liked to drink together in Bobby’s backyard.”
“Where can I find Dave Carey?’
“He runs the hardware store,” Sue replied. She scowled. “Are we done now?”
“Not quite yet. What were you doing in the storage room the night Bobby died?” Clarissa demanded. “You don’t work at the bingo hall. Isn’t that room for employees only?”
“I was looking for Bobby,” Sue replied without hesitation. “Bingo was late getting started because he was nowhere to be found. I was getting impatient. So I went looking for him. I saw the light on in the storage room and went inside. There was Bobby, lying on the floor dead.”
“Do you have any idea why Bobby would have been in the storage room?”
Sue scoffed. “That’s where the candy supply for the concession stand is. Bobby was back there helping himself to chocolate bars and jelly beans, no doubt about it. He did that every night before bingo started. It was practically a ritual for him.”
“I see. Did you notice anyone else in that area?”
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t really remember,” Sue replied.
It was time to stop beating around the bush. Clarissa decided to go in for the kill. “Sue, you’re a nurse. That means you must have first aid training. Yet when I got to the storage room, you weren’t administering first aid. You hadn’t even called an ambulance yet. Why is that?”
Sue’s eyes widened. Then they narrowed. “What are you suggesting?” she demanded.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Clarissa replied innocently. “I’m just asking a question.”
There was a long pause.
“I don’t know,” Sue finally said. “I wasn’t thinking. I guess I was in a bad frame of mind.”
The phone on her desk began to ring.
“I have to take this,” Sue said. Her tone made it clear that the conversation was over.
Clarissa walked back to where she had left Parker. She had a bounce in her step.
“You’re looking a lot steadier on your feet,” he observed. “I take it things went well?”
Clarissa nodded.
“So, is Sue still a suspect?”
“For now,” she replied. “But I have another lead to follow up on: a friend of Bobby’s. His name is Dave and he runs a hardware store. Maybe he can help shed some light on things. I’m hoping he can at least give me a better understanding of who Bobby was.”
“Clarissa, do you think maybe you should rule out the obvious first?” Parker suggested.
She stared at her boyfriend blankly. “What do you mean?”
“What if the pharmacy made an innocent mistake?” he asked. “Maybe they filled Bobby’s prescription with the wrong pills. The death could have been a complete accident, for all we know. Maybe we should go have a word with the pharmacist who filled the prescription.”
“Whoa.” Clarissa smacked her forehead. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
“Glad I could be useful. But I wish I could be more useful. I have no idea how we’re going to find out who the pharmacist was,” Parker sighed. His big city upbringing was showing.
Clarissa grinned, completely unfazed by what her boyfriend perceived to be a problem. “That’s the beautiful thing about small towns,” she told him. “This place is about the same size as Sugarcomb Lake. I bet you anything there’s only one pharmacy here.”
“Ah, good point! Are you sure you’re up to investigating today?” Parker asked worriedly. “A few minutes ago you looked like you might pass out! Don’t you think you should just take it easy today and rest up? We can always investigate tomorrow.”
“Do you know what my mother said to me this morning when you were in the other room?”
“What?”
Clarissa grimaced. “She took me aside and whispered that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Then she said it’s time I learn how to cook. I think she was implying that if I don’t learn to cook, I won’t keep you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Parker said dismissively. “You’re the only woman I know who can’t even boil water properly – and I love you. Besides, I can cook…sort of. Well, better than you, anyway. Though that’s not saying much…”
“Thanks, I think!” Clarissa quipped. “Anyway, let’s please, please go find the pharmacy. I hate cooking. I hate it with a passion! I would much rather investigate a suspected murder than try to make a soufflé.”
Parker leaned down and planted an unexpected peck on her lips.
“What was that for?” she asked, unable to hide her bashful smile.
“You’re amazing,” he said, a look of pure affection in his eyes. “I love you. I love everything about you. I even love your inability to cook…and your unwillingness to learn. Let’s go to the pharmacy! Come to think of it, I could use some more painkillers for my back.”
“I still can’t believe I didn’t think to talk to the pharmacist who filled Bobby’s prescription. I got way ahead of myself, didn’t I? What if Bobby’s death really was an accident?” Clarissa mused. “What if there is no killer at all? Maybe I’ve been jumping to conclusions.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Parker replied. “Let’s hope it really was an accident.”
Clarissa nodded in agreement. But deep down, she doubted that Bobby’s death had been a tragic mistake. Though she couldn’t explain why, her intuition was screaming at her to delve deeper. She felt certain that foul play was involved.
Chapter 10
The pharmacy was huge, and unlike the hospital’s emergency room, it was busy.
Clarissa had to wait in a long lineup comprised mostly of senior citizens. She also had to listen to an unfortunately detailed account of one elderly lady’s bowel habits. Why did some people insist on oversharing like that?
By the time Clarissa reached the front of the line, she was determined to get answers. She figured she had earned it after the horrifying mental images the oversharing elderly lady had planted in her head.
But she had no idea how she was going to charm the information out of the pharmacist.
She decided to turn on the charm and hope for the best.
“Hi!” Clarissa chirped, smiling brightly.
“Hello,” the grey haired man in a white lab coat replied. “How can I help you today?”
“I uh, have some questions,” Clarissa told him. She looked around and then lowered her voice. “I have some questions about someone who may have gotten his prescription filled here.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,” the pharmacist replied. “It’s confidential.”
“Oh, I understand,” Clarissa assured him. Then she wiped the smile off her face and pretended to become emotional. “It’s just…it was such a shock. The way Bobby died was so tragic. I was there the night it happened, you know.”
The pharmacist’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re talking about Bobby Bates!”
So much for confidentiality, Clarissa thought to herself triumphantly.
She happened to be a bit of an expert on small towns, having grown up in one. And i
f there was one thing she knew about small towns, it was that people loved to talk. The man in the white lab coat was apparently one of those people.
“Bobby used to come in here all the time,” the pharmacist informed Clarissa. “He had a bad heart, you see. He also had terrible, chronic heartburn. I used to tell him if he just changed his diet, he’d probably be able to cut back on his meds. But he wouldn’t hear of it!”
“I heard he took the wrong medication,” Clarissa said. “I heard it brought on his heart attack.”
“Yes, that’s right,” the pharmacist nodded.
“How would Bobby have gotten the pills that killed him?”
“He wouldn’t have. No doctor in his right mind would have prescribed Bobby the pills that killed him. They’re well known to cause heart attacks in folks who are susceptible to that sort of thing. Somebody must have tampered with his pill bottle.”
“I hate to even ask this, but um…is there any way there could have been a mix up?” Clarissa asked. “I mean, I’m sure you’re very careful and very thorough here! But could the wrong medication have perhaps been put into Bobby’s pill bottle?”
“Absolutely not,” the pharmacist replied with conviction.
“I saw the pills that killed Bobby. Some of them were lying on the floor when his body was discovered at the bingo hall. The pills were small, white, round. They looked like any other pills, really. Wouldn’t it be easy to mistake them for something else?”
“Yes, but we were out of stock. I went back over my records when I heard about Bobby’s death. I didn’t think for one moment I had inadvertently given Bobby the wrong prescription, of course,” the pharmacist said. “But I just wanted to be diligent.”
“Of course, I understand,” Clarissa nodded. “Please, go on.” She was practically leaning across the counter, she was so eager to hear what the pharmacist had to say.
“I ordered more of the pills that killed Bobby two days before he came in here to refill his prescription. As of today, they still haven’t arrived. Actually,” the pharmacist said, “I’d better call the drug company about that. The order should have been here by now.”
“Is it a common medication? Do you fill many prescriptions for it?” Clarissa demanded.
If she could narrow down who had access to the pills Bobby had ingested, she would be able to fine tune her list of suspects. She crossed her fingers, hoping the pharmacist’s reply would be helpful.
“It’s quite rare for folks to be prescribed the pills that killed Bobby. I can’t tell you names –”
“Hey! People are waiting in line!” a cranky sounding woman with a blue beehive hairdo hollered from behind Clarissa. She waved her cane around angrily as if to emphasize her point. “We’re not getting any younger, you know!”
“Oops. I’d better move on to the next customer before they beat me to death with their canes and walkers,” the pharmacist said. “Can I help you with anything else, or was that everything?”
“Hmm…actually, can you recommend a good over-the-counter medication for a sore back?” Clarissa asked hopefully. “My boyfriend pulled a muscle the other day and is in quite a bit of discomfort.”
Five minutes later, Clarissa emerged from the pharmacy holding a white paper bag.
“Ta-da!” she exclaimed as she got into Parker’s flashy rental car. “The pharmacist says these will help your back,” she said as she pulled a box of muscle relaxants out of the bag. “Take two every six hours. In a few days you should be as good as new!”
“You’re the best,” Parker grinned. “So, what’s the verdict?” he asked curiously. “Could Bobby’s death have been the result of a mix-up at the pharmacy?”
“Nope,” Clarissa replied. “All signs point to murder.”
“What now?”
Clarissa thought for a moment. “The person who killed Bobby had access to a specific medication that’s only available by prescription. Sue Neilson is a nurse. She also has a gambling addiction and owed Bobby money.”
“Don’t forget medical knowledge,” Parker pointed out. “With her background, she would know exactly what effect those pills would have on Bobby.” He sounded as excited as Clarissa felt. It seemed they just may be on the brink of solving a murder.
“That’s all very compelling, but it’s also circumstantial,” Clarissa sighed. “I can’t just accuse Sue of murdering Bobby because she’s the most likely suspect. I need to do better than that. I need proof.”
“Okay. How do we get proof?”
With a frown, Clarissa shrugged. “I haven’t quite gotten that far yet,” she admitted. “But I’ll think of something. If Sue really did kill Bobby, then there has to be evidence somewhere. And I’m going to find it!”
“You always do.” Parker gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You’re the best sleuth I know.”
Clarissa wished she was as confident in her abilities as Parker was. She had no idea what her next move ought to be. But thankfully, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. Or to be more precise, she had a few spells under her hat.
Chapter 11
“Mom said no magic in her house…but I never said I’d abstain from magic outside the house!”
It was midnight. Everyone had gone to bed for the night…everyone except Clarissa and Cat. As soon as everybody else had settled in for the night, Clarissa had tossed off her covers and crept out the door with her fluffy, whiskered companion.
“Stop talking and go higher!” Cat ordered. The feisty feline was perched atop a broom Clarissa had borrowed from her parents’ shed. Clarissa didn’t particularly enjoy flying – it was exhilarating but it was also terrifying. The cat, however, seemed to love it.
“I’m not going higher!” Clarissa retorted. “This is plenty high enough!” She was already up above the rooftops, attempting to navigate unfamiliar territory in the dark. Her knuckles were white from gripping the broom handle so tightly. All she wanted was to land safely – and soon.
“You’re so boring,” Cat complained. “You won’t fly high enough to make birds jealous and you won’t perform spells in your parents’ house. What’s that about, anyway? Your mom forbids you from practicing magic in her house and you actually listen? Ugh! You shouldn’t take orders from anyone!”
“I –”
“Seriously, go higher!” Cat interrupted.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to take orders from anyone,” Clarissa reminded the bossy feline.
“Yeah, but…”
“Ha! I win.”
“You’ll regret defying me when I take over the world,” Cat threatened.
“Take over the world? You’re scared of the vacuum cleaner. I’ll take my chances.”
“You’ll regret saying that. So where are we going?” Cat asked.
“There,” Clarissa said, nodding toward the local hospital. Then she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, screwed up her face in concentration and focused on landing.
Flying wasn’t something that came naturally to Clarissa. Her Aunt Matilda was completely at ease on her broom – which was really something considering how often she got distracted and crash landed!
Clarissa, on the other hand, preferred to stay on the ground. Though it was neat to be able to do stuff most people couldn’t, she was afraid of heights. She only flew when it was absolutely necessary to do so.
“Watch out for that power line!” Cat yowled as Clarissa narrowly avoided a collision.
Clarissa gasped. Then she landed at the edge of the hospital parking lot, under the cover of darkness. There was a slight jolt when her feet touched the ground, but as far as broom landings went it was a pretty good one. In fact, it may have been her best to date.
“Again! Again!” Cat cheered, jumping off the broom and running around excitedly.
“We’re taking the bus home,” Clarissa informed her crazy companion.
“Humph,” the cat grunted. “What now?”
“Now I’m going inside to snoop around. You wait here,” Clarissa
instructed.
“What? No way. I’m coming with you!” The cat paused and licked its lips nervously. “There aren’t any dogs in there, are there? I hate dogs even more than I hate birds.”
“You don’t hate dogs. You’re scared of dogs,” Clarissa corrected the egotistical maniac.
“What? No! I’m not scared of anything,” Cat announced bravely, its nose in the air.
Suddenly a noisy pickup truck drove into the parking lot. It was in need of a new muffler.
“What’s that?!” Cat gasped, darting behind Clarissa’s legs.
Shaking her head, Clarissa stepped aside. She scooped the cat up and walked into the hospital. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased. “You don’t bat an eye at ghosts and ghouls, but you’re scared of your own reflection…and about a million other silly things.”
“Humph!”
Clarissa walked into the hospital.
If it had been quiet in there before, it was absolutely dead now. In fact, the only person in sight was the night nurse. Tonight it was a woman Clarissa didn’t recognize. She was sitting at the nurses’ station playing games on her phone.
The nurse glanced up. “Excuse me!” she called. “You’re not allowed to bring animals in here.”
“I’m not an animal. You’re an animal!” Cat muttered.
“Sorry!” Clarissa called back from across the room. “This is my, um…this is my service cat!”
She didn’t like to lie, but a teensy tiny little fib wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Oh, it’s a service cat? Okay,” the nurse shrugged. She turned her attention back to her phone. Clearly she wasn’t interested in Clarissa or the cat. What she really wanted was to resume the game she had been playing.
“Service cat?” Cat complained as Clarissa hurried away. “I do not serve you! You serve me!”
“Oh, I’m well aware,” Clarissa sighed.
“Excuse me?” a male voice called as Clarissa rounded a corner.
She looked over to see a man standing by the vending machines. He was slightly pudgy with balding dark hair. He looked to be about fifty years old. He wore dark blue coveralls and was holding a mop. It was clear from his appearance that he was a janitor.
The Name of the Game is Murder (A Clarissa Spencer Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 6
