Mystery: The Sam Prichard Series - Books 1-4

by David Archer

  Sam sat there, frozen. “Carol,” he said finally, “are you sure?”

  “Well, I can't be a hundred percent certain, of course, but I think there's a very good chance. The only thing that worries me is that this hurts our defense for Carl, but if your mother-in-law has any luck...”

  Sam's eyes shot wide open. “My mother in law? What's Kim got to do with this?”

  Carol looked at him. “Uh-oh, did I let a cat out of the bag? I thought you would have known; she made an appointment with Dr. Connors today, and went and got her blood tested both before and after. We're praying he used the zolpidem on her, because then we can tie him to it directly!”

  Sam stared at her. “That idiot!” he said suddenly. “She has no clue what she's sticking her nose into! How could she be so stupid?”

  Carol looked at him in surprise. “Sam, I'm confused,” she said. “This woman just put herself on the line to try to prove you were innocent. Frankly, I think she's amazingly brave!”

  “She isn't brave, she's psychotic! Somehow I just know that stupid Beauregard is behind this!”

  “Hey, your wife said almost the same thing. Who on earth is Beauregard?”

  “Nobody!” Sam yelled, and then refused to say another word on the subject.

  As soon as he got back to the cellblock, Sam went to the phones and called home. When Indie answered, he said, “Would someone please tell me how to kill that ghost?”

  “Uh-oh,” Indie said. “Carol must have come to see you.”

  “Yeah, and she told me about this harebrained scheme of your mother's to go get doped up by Dr. Demento! It was Beauregard, wasn't it? Did she say this was his idea?”

  “Well, yes, but...”

  “Baby, how could you have let her go through with this? Where is she now? Locked up somewhere safe, I hope?”

  “Um—she's in the living room, watching TV. But, Sam, before you go all nuts on me, don't worry, I handcuffed her to the gas pipe on the fireplace. She can't possibly get out of it, and I'm going to stay up all night and watch her. And Kenzie is staying with the twins tonight, Anita said it was no problem.”

  Sam counted to ten, then said, “Okay. Fine, it's already done and there's no undoing it. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Carol came to tell me that the blood test shows there was no zolpidem in my system. Instead, they found ketamine, which probably knocked me out to the point that I couldn't possibly have killed Mrs. Connors. It looks like I was just plain framed, and she's gonna try to convince the prosecutor of that in the morning and get me released, but that's not definite. We still need to nail Connors, if we can, and use that to show malice. If we can establish that he uses drugs to manipulate people, then we can probably show that he had the only viable motive to kill his wife, and thought he could shut me up in the process.”

  “We're working on it,” Indie said. “Carol's got depositions set for tomorrow with a lot of the witnesses I found, and that will help. If it turns out Mom got a dose of zolpidem, then we've probably got enough to hang him, and that's what I'm hoping for. That should give us enough to show you were framed, too.”

  Sam sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Baby, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just got worried when she said your mom tried this. If he'd known she was connected to me, she could be dead by now.”

  “I know, Sam, but she was really just trying to help. And Beauregard, figment of her mind though he is, does have a tendency to be right. This could work; if he really uses his tricks to hook up with women, well, Mom's not bad looking, and she passes for my sister all the time. He might go for her, and then we'll have proof.”

  “Okay, baby. I love you, and I'll try to call you back later tonight. Keep a close eye on her, don't let her do anything stupid.”

  “Trust me on that, babe,” she said. “She isn't getting out of my sight!”

  8

  Indie heated up frozen sandwiches for herself and Kim, and they sat in the living room to eat and watch a movie. They had looked through what was on, and finally settled on one of the latest superhero movies. Kim enjoyed them, and Indie liked the action. When it was over, they sat and talked for a bit, and Kim drifted off to sleep on the couch.

  Indie hadn't lied to Sam about cuffing her mother to the gas pipe, but she'd actually hooked several pairs of Sam's cuffs together and made a chain about three feet long, with the other end of it hooked to her mother's ankle. Kim couldn't move more than few feet away from the couch, but it allowed her to stretch out and lay down. She was sleeping peacefully, while Indie sat there and watched a movie called “Fireproof,” about a fireman who was having problems in his marriage, and embarked on a forty-day challenge to try to win back his wife's love and respect. It was a wonderful movie, and she found herself in tears at the end.

  Kim was still sleeping, and Indie saw that it was nearly eleven. She flipped channels and tried to find another movie, but finally gave up. She went to the bookshelf beside the fireplace and looked through the books; she'd always enjoyed reading, and hadn't had much time, lately. This seemed like a good chance to renew the hobby. She found a book of Sam's called “The Very Swift Witches,” and the title caught her eye, so she flipped it over and read the back. It was a comic drama about three witches from seventeenth century Wales who are magically transported to the Ozark Mountains of today, adopted by a single mother and her kids, and have to adapt to a world where magic is unknown, and carriages run around without any horses to pull them! It sounded cute, so she took it back to the recliner and began to read.

  Two hours later, after stifling laughter several times and even shedding a few tears, she glanced up to see her mother sitting straight up on the couch, with her eyes wide open.

  “Mom?” she said. Kim looked at her for a second, but then seemed to ignore her again. She looked down at her purse and reached for it, digging in the bottom of it for something, and then came up with a small bottle. She unscrewed the cap and started to put it to her mouth, but then stopped suddenly.

  Her face turned to Indie, who was already on her feet and moving toward her mother. She said, “I think perhaps you should take this bottle from your mother, Indiana,” but the voice that came out of her wasn't her own. It had a distinct masculine quality, and Indie froze where she stood.

  “Mom?” she said again, and her mother's face smiled while she shook her head.

  “I'm afraid she's not here, at the moment, Indiana. She is somewhere in her mind, and I've had to take over to keep anything from happening.”

  Indie stared. “B—Beauregard?” she asked, and her mother nodded.

  “Yes, dear girl,” that odd voice said. “Now, please—take the bottle. It may contain something dangerous.”

  Indie reached out and took the bottle, then got the cap from her mother's other hand. She carefully put it back on, and then looked at her mother again.

  “Is Mom okay?” she asked.

  “She is acting on something she was told earlier,” the voice said. “She wants to drink that bottle, and then go to a place to meet that fool dentist.”

  Indie stared for another minute. “And you're Beauregard? Are you real? Really a ghost, I mean?”

  Her mother's face smiled, a jovial expression that was so unlike the way Kim normally looked that it sent a chill down Indie's spine. “I certainly think so, though I know that others don't believe it. Sometimes your mother doesn't believe it, but she still listens to me. She's ready to go back to sleep, now, I think.”

  A moment later, Kim lay back down, and Indie stood there until she heard her mother's breathing become deep and steady once again. She looked at the bottle in her hand, and then took it to the kitchen and hid it in the back of a cabinet. She made a pot of coffee while she was there, and waited until there was enough to pour herself a cup.

  When she got back to the living room, she half expected to see Kim sitting up again, but she was still sleeping peacefully. Indie watched her for a few more moments, and then picked up her book again and sat down to read. She looked up every f
ew minutes to check on her mother, but Kim didn't move again the rest of the night. Indie didn't take any chances, though, and between the coffee and the book, she managed to remain awake with no problem.

  In the morning, Kim awakened normally, stretched and yawned and smiled at her daughter. “See? Everything was fine. I'm still here, and nothing happened in the night.”

  Indie stared at her for a moment. “Mom,” she said at last, “you don't remember anything from last night?”

  Kim looked at her, and frowned. “No. Should I?”

  Indie sat there for a moment, then said, “Last night, about one, you sat up and got a small bottle out of your purse. You were about to drink it, but then you stopped, and...” She trailed off, and had to force herself to go on. “And then you looked at me and said I should take it, but it didn't sound like you, and when I asked if you were okay, you said you were Beauregard. You—he said you were gone in your mind somewhere, and that you were trying to do what Dr. Connors told you to do, to drink whatever's in that bottle and then go to see him, but he stopped you.”

  Kim smiled. “Ah,” she said, “so you finally got to talk to him. He doesn't come out very often, he says he doesn't like it out here.” She cocked her head as if listening for a moment, then smiled at Indie again. “He says to tell you that he doesn't always believe in himself, either, whatever that means.”

  Indie shook her head, and another chill went down her spine. “Listen, I need to take that bottle to the lawyer so she can get it checked out. Do you need to go to the bathroom or anything?”

  Kim laughed. “Well, yes, I could stand to. Would you mind?”

  Indie unlocked the cuff on her ankle and followed her to the bathroom, waiting outside while her mother took care of necessary things. When she came out, they went back to the couch and Indie hooked her ankle back up again.

  “Sorry, Mom, but I'm not letting you go until I know you're clean.”

  Kim smiled. “I understand, honey, don't worry. I'll be fine, but could I have some of that coffee?”

  Indie got her a cup, made the way she liked it, and gave her the remote and the book. “If you get sick of the TV, try this. I read it last night, and it's pretty good.”

  Kim glanced at the back and said, “Ooh, witches! It sounds good!” She giggled like a teenager, and Indie rolled her eyes.

  She went into the kitchen and got the bottle out of the cabinet. Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the cap and sniffed at it, but jerked back instantly. It smelled like some pretty potent alcohol, stronger than anything Indie had ever tried, and she put the cap back on quickly. She would bet that the zolpidem they were looking for was in that bottle.

  She called Carol at eight, and her secretary answered.

  “Hi, this is Indiana Prichard,” she said. “I've got something that Carol needs to see right away. Is she in?”

  “Actually, she is, but she's in a deposition already this morning. She should be free in about an hour, if you'd like to come then?”

  Indie smiled. “I'll be there,” she said, and went to take a shower and get dressed.

  When she came out, she checked on her mother and found her reading contentedly. Kim glanced up at her and waved with her fingers, and Indie rolled her eyes again. She grabbed the bottle and headed out the door, telling Kim she'd be back as soon as she could. She went out to the truck and got in, started it up and drove off toward Carol's office downtown.

  She arrived at the office as Carol was finishing up with Donald Miller, the old man who had butchered his dog after visiting Dr. Connors a year before. He was smiling, but there were traces of tears on his face as he left, and Indie was surprised to see that Carol's cheeks were also damp.

  “That poor man has been beating himself up for a year because of what happened,” Carol said. “Now he has a chance to find peace, knowing that it wasn't just some suppressed insanity of his own that made him do it. We're not only going to nail Connors, Indie, we're helping people recover their lives.” She wiped her eyes quickly. “Now, you’ve got something for me?”

  Indie produced the bottle. “I took this from my mom about one o'clock this morning,” she said. “She sat up suddenly from a deep sleep, dug it out of her purse and was going to drink it, but I managed to take it away. She mumbled something about drinking it, then going to see Dr. Connors someplace.” Indie had decided that she didn’t want to even try to explain Beauregard.

  Carol looked at the bottle. “Has it been out of your control since you took it from your mother?” she asked.

  Indie shook her head in the negative. “No, I hid it in a cabinet and didn't take it out until this morning. There was no one else in the house, and I was awake all night, so no one could have tampered with it.”

  “Okay, good, so we've got a simple chain of custody. I want you to take it over to the same lab you went to yesterday; I'll call and tell them what to do with it. You get a receipt from whoever you hand it to, and bring that back to me, okay?”

  Indie agreed, and left. She took the bottle to the lab, where a chemist gave her a signed receipt, and took that straight back to Carol. Once she handed it over, she went home again, and found her mother sitting there with tears in her eyes.

  “Mom? What's wrong?” she asked, but Kim only shook her head as she wiped at her eyes.

  “I'm okay,” she said. “I just finished the book, and the ending made me cry.”

  Indie stared at her. “You read that book in two hours? It took me all night!”

  Kim waved it off. “Speed reading course, two years ago, before you came back from college. It was great, you should try it.”

  Indie rolled her eyes. “I don't have that much time for reading,” she said.

  “You would if you took the course,” Kim replied. “I usually read at least one book a day, now. It's very relaxing.”

  “I'll bet. You need the bathroom or anything?”

  Kim shook her head. “No, not right now. But I could use another cup of coffee.”

  Indie went to get it for her, and was bringing it back when her phone rang. It was Carol Spencer.

  “Hello?” Indie said.

  “Indie, we're looking good! The lab says the bottle you brought in contained four ounces of pure, two hundred proof grain alcohol with ten milligrams of zolpidem tartrate dissolved in it. I've been thinking about our next step, and I'd like your mother to be seen by another hypnotist. I've talked to a psychiatrist who is very knowledgeable and is willing to see her right away. What I'm hoping is that he can actually recover what posthypnotic suggestions she was given, so we can get right down to what Connors was up to. Can you get here there in the next hour or so?”

  “Sure,” Indie said. “Gimme the address.”

  “Great! It's Dr. Annalee Stratton, and she's over at one thousand Greenbriar Avenue. She’s expecting you any time, so just go on over as soon as you can.”

  “You got it!” Indie hung up the phone and said, “Mom, I'll make this to go. You're finally going to see a shrink!”

  Kim smiled. “Oh, how exciting!”

  Indie rolled her eyes once again, but found a travel cup for her mom's coffee, then made another one for herself. They left the house a few minutes later, after a stop in the bathroom for each of them, and arrived at Dr. Stratton's office after a thirty-minute drive.

  The receptionist there was thin and brunette, and ushered them right into the doctor's office as soon as she got Kim's name. She had Kim sit in a recliner, and offered Indie a straight-backed chair, then left. Dr. Stratton came in a moment later, a lovely woman who reminded Indie of one of old porcelain dolls from the early twentieth century. Indie introduced them.

  “Hi,” she said, “I'm Dr. Stratton. Ms. Spencer has given me a pretty clear description of the situation, and I'll be honest and tell you that I'm appalled that any medical professional would abuse the power of his position this way. We'll be placing you under hypnotic induction, into the 'trance state,' as it's called. In this state, we should be able
to direct you to recall things that you were instructed to forget or conceal, and remove that injunction so that you can tell us about them. Is that okay with you?”

  Kim smiled. “Yes, certainly. I understand I tried to do some strange things last night, and I'd love to know what it was I was trying to do. Right now, I can't remember anything.”

  Dr. Stratton nodded. “That's because you were instructed not to remember when you're awake. Let's begin, then, shall we? What I want you to do is get yourself as comfortable in the chair as you can, and then we're going to begin.”

  Indie held up a hand. “Should I leave the room? I mean, I don't need to be hypnotized...”

  Dr. Stratton smiled. “You can stay if you wish. What we're going to do is directed at your mother, and shouldn't affect you at all. You may find yourself relaxing, but you'll be in control of yourself at all times, both of you. All we're really doing is guiding your mother into a relaxation technique that will remove some of her inhibitions, especially any artificial ones from the dentist. Ready?”

  Kim nodded with a smile, and Dr. Stratton began speaking softly.

  “What I want you to do is simply relax and listen to my voice. You're sitting comfortably and relaxing, and that's all you need to be doing right now...”

  Indie watched, fascinated, as her mother's face relaxed completely. Kim usually wore a slight smile, as if life were a joke that she alone could understand, but even that little smile slowly faded away as she listened to the doctor speaking in a soft monotone.

  “...feeling like you're sort of floating, you can't even feel the chair under you. Your mind is relaxed, and relaxation is good, oranges are good, too, and sometimes you can find yourself riding in an orange car, riding into further and deeper relaxation...”