I rinsed out the cup and brewed myself another, this time taking it black.
As I sipped my coffee, I thought about the anti-anxiety pills I planned to take to the clinical lab in town. Preoccupied with Jeremy’s recent fever, I’d forgotten all about them.
I stared at the sugar bowl. Now I had two items that needed to be examined.
Carefully, I covered the bowl and moved it to the back of the counter. Knowing this time I had to do something, I pulled out my cell and, scanning my contacts, speed-dialed Special Agent Haskell at the FBI.
They put me right through to him.
“Dr. Pomeroy,” he said, sounding a bit irritated. “What’s up?”
I took a deep breath. “Have you gained any more information on Vlad Sokolov’s whereabouts?”
The agent sighed. “No, but, like I told you before, he’s probably somewhere in Russia by now. Hooked up with the mafia there.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that.”
I went on to tell him about the misplaced book, the pills, and my experience the night before. I also told him about finding the candy bar wrapper in the tunnels.
“You went down there? Why?”
I had to think fast. I couldn’t tell him about the silo.
“I just wanted to check them out for myself. Vlad threatened me. I needed to know for sure that he was gone.”
“Okay,” Haskell said. “Leave the sugar as it is. I’ll be over within the hour with a team. They can re-canvas the tunnels. I’ll also bring an expert who can do a cursory exam of the powder. The pills, I’ll have to take with me to the lab.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Don’t mention it. Now I want you outta there. If someone has access to your house, you’re not safe. We’ll meet you at the clinic.”
I started to thank him again but he’d already hung up. I frowned. Despite making all the right noises, I got the distinct impression that he didn’t buy anything I’d said. Convincing him I wasn’t nuts was, I believed, going to be an uphill battle, but it was one I was ready to take on.
The team from the FBI met me at the clinic about an hour later. I handed over my keys to one of the agents, who proceeded to the Carriage House. From there, I assumed they would enter and canvas the tunnels. Another agent, with a large black suitcase, was going to do an analysis of the Splenda. He also took the bottle of antidepressants, gave me a receipt for them, and told me he would be taking them to the FBI lab on the mainland. I was instructed to remain at the clinic for a formal interview with Agent Haskell.
Haskell arrived a few minutes later and asked me go over everything I had told him on the phone, but in more detail. By the time he was done questioning me, I felt exhausted.
“Okay,” he finally said. “I think that’s it. I’m going to check in with my team now.”
He put his tape recorder into his briefcase, then walked out of the room. Waiting just outside the door was the agent with the suitcase.
“May I speak to you in private, sir?” the agent asked.
Haskell nodded and the two men walked to an open area just inside the clinic entrance. They spoke briefly, then Haskell returned to me.
“The sugar was negative. Nothing but Splenda. But Agent Morris did find something else in your apartment.”
As he spoke, Haskell held up a bottle of OxyContin labeled “Prescription Sample, not for sale or distribution.”
“What!” I exclaimed, examining the bottle. It was a drug sample like those big pharma reps were always handing out to doctors. But it was Oxy – a highly addictive pain killer – and not something I would prescribe lightly or take myself.
“That’s not mine,” I said emphatically. “I don’t generally prescribe it and I would never take it. Where did he find it?”
Agent Haskell hesitated for a moment. “In your bathroom medicine cabinet. The bottle’s only half full. You sure you haven’t been sampling?”
I stared at him, not appreciating his tone of voice.
“We have a strict procedure at the clinic on the handling of restricted drugs,” I said firmly, “and that includes pharmaceutical samples. If someone removed this bottle from our stores, then they would have had to log it out.”
The agent nodded. “Well, let’s go have a look-see.”
“All right. Follow me.”
We walked toward what once was my Uncle Raoul’s study. The door was secured with a digital combination lock.
“Only Steve, my head nurse, and I have access to this facility,” I said, punching in the code. “This lock keeps count of how many times it’s opened in a given day. If there’s not a corresponding entry in the drug log, it would be a cause for alarm.”
I ushered the agent inside, where there were three shelves full of pharmaceuticals and a small refrigerator. There also was a desk, on which sat a laptop computer.
“If Steve or I need to use any of these drugs, we must first come in here and then complete the log, which details, the date, what drug was being used, how many pills, ounces, mgs, etcetera, the name of the patient, patient’s date of birth, and the condition we’re treating.”
I opened up the drug log program for him to review. “As you can see, no one removed any Oxy from this room.”
The agent nodded. “Okay, nothing came from here. I’ll buy that. But say you had lunch with the big pharma rep that pushes this product. It wouldn’t be hard for you to slip a bottle or two into your purse for personal use.”
Now, I was really angry. “That is just supposition. I was drugged last night, but it wasn’t by anything I took knowingly. I am NOT a drug addict! And, what the hell was your comrade doing nosing around in my bathroom anyway? Do you have a search warrant?”
Haskell had the decency to look embarrassed. “No, we don’t. And, you’re right. My agent shouldn’t have been searching your bathroom. But the Splenda is clean and so are the tunnels. And, as for those pills you gave me, even if they turn out to be something other than what’s printed on the label, how are we to know that you didn’t replace them yourself? I mean, maybe it’s not just Oxy you’re into.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“And, further,” he continued. “All the intel we have says Sokolov is back in Russia, not running around on Storm Island trying to gaslight you. I’m afraid you may just have an overactive imagination or a bit of a problem. It’s not unusual in your profession, you know.”
When he said the latter, he placed the bottle containing the Oxy squarely in my hand.
I stared at it for a moment, then looked back up at him.
“I think you’re done here,” I said, trying to rein in my temper. “Hand over my keys and you can show yourselves out.”
Haskell silently passed the keys to me, then turned and, with his partner, left the building.
“What was that all about?” asked Steve, making his way to my side.
I breathed deeply. “That was the FBI. I called them. But I don’t think that agent could find his butt with both hands, let alone that damned Russian.”
Steve grinned. “Well, don’t worry, you’ve got me and Jeremy and, together, I think we could fight crime better than a hundred of those G-men!”
I looked at him and smiled. “Yeah, I’m lucky I’ve got you two. Come on, I think I’ve wasted enough time this morning. Let’s go see some patients.”
That evening I told Jeremy what had happened, omitting the part about my being in the tunnels.
“Are you telling me,” said Jeremy, obviously angry, “that the agent said he found those drugs in your medicine cabinet? What the hell was he doing in your bathroom? Taking a piss?”
“I don’t know, honey,” I replied. “But the conclusion they came to was that I’m some sort of drug addict and, as such, cannot be believed.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Jeremy countered. “Anyone who knows you knows you don’t do recreational drugs. Maybe a pill to ease your anxiety once in a while, but no hard stuff.
I’m going to go to town tomorrow and give that creep a piece of my mind. He’s got no business impugning your integrity.
“And,” he continued. “What the hell are they going to do about someone breaking in here?”
“Nothing that I can see,” I answered softly. “They don’t believe me. Haskell says they found nothing in the sugar bowl, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. The intruder – oh, let’s just call him by his name – Vlad – probably dumped the doctored stuff and replaced it with the real thing. He also put those pills in my bathroom to try to throw suspicion my way.”
“God, that guy’s evil. The thought that he was here watching you … touching you. If I ever get my hands on him…”
His voice trailed off as he glanced around the room. “So, what’s the deal with all these cameras anyway? Why didn’t they record anything? Are they defective?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. There was nothing on the nanny-cam. The outside cameras don’t show anything either. Maybe Vlad is a computer genius, as well as being a stone-cold criminal. Maybe he knows some way to short circuit them.”
“I’ll talk to Tom about it. See if someone could have hacked into them. Vlad would also have to have keys. Where would he get a copy of yours? I can’t see the locksmith giving him a set.”
“I don’t know. But before he was arrested, he was here on the island often, working with Raoul. Perhaps he has an accomplice. Someone who came to the clinic and, somehow, made an impression of my keyring.”
“Should we re-key again?”
“I hate to have to do that. These are state-of-the-art locks and they weren’t cheap. But I may have a different solution. I going to go with a more old-fashioned thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow, I’ll go to the hardware store and pick up a couple of those chain locks. If Sokolov has keys, the chain locks will keep him out or at least give me a warning that someone is trying to get inside.”
“And you’re sure it’s the Russian? Not just some island prowler or meth addict looking for drugs?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It was the way he touched me and the use of a narcotic, possibly raw opium, to drug me. Also, the planting of the Oxy fits his modus operandi to a tee. This little B&E was fun for him. He probably got off on it.”
Jeremy took a deep breath. “Okay. But why didn’t he do more? Abduct you or…”
His voice trailed off and I knew why. He didn’t want to be the one to say the words.
“You mean why didn’t he kill me? I don’t know. He’s got a twisted mind. His idea of revenge may be torturing me – making me feel isolated and alone.”
“Well, we’re not going to let him beat us. You get those chain locks and I’ll put them in tomorrow. From now on, you either stay at my place at night or I stay here. Until that guy’s apprehended, you’re not safe alone.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“And, I am going to have a conversation with that agent myself. Drug addict! That guy’s a loser.”
I put my hands on his shoulders. “I love you, you idiot, but you’ll do no such thing. I don’t want them throwing you in jail for assaulting an officer. Let’s just let them do their little Elliott Ness dance. I’m going to put in a call to my attorney about the agent who went snooping through my medicine cabinet without asking my permission or obtaining a search warrant. A little civil lawsuit will put them in their place!”
Jeremy laughed. “Ahhhh, the girl’s got her dander up. I kinda like seeing this fighting side of you.”
As he spoke, he put his arms around me and kissed me deeply.
“How about we split this place,” he whispered. “Let’s head down to the Whistle for burgers? All this talk of Russians has made me hungry.”
55
Kate
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
LATER THAT EVENING, after we finished dinner, I called Matt, who was still in Bangkok, and explained to him what had happened.
“That’s not good, Kate,” he replied. “What was that agent’s name again?”
“Haskell.”
“Tall guy, salt-and-pepper hair cut like a Marine in basic?”
“Yup, that’s him.”
Matt sighed. “He’s a tool. Just because some sleaze informant told him your man’s in Russia, he thinks the case is closed. I’ll call his superior when their office opens in the morning. Have them get someone who knows what he or she’s doing on your case.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
“Also, think about putting in a real alarm system. You know, something that has a siren go off if anyone opens the door. You can get them online now. Easy-peasy.”
“I’ll look into it. How are things going on your end?”
He hesitated. “There’s something that’s come up, but I’m not convinced that it’s solid yet. I’ll let you know.”
I wondered why he was being so vague, but assumed he had his reasons. We chatted a bit more then hung up.
“What did he say?” Jeremy asked after I put down the phone.
“He’s going to call and speak to Haskell’s superior. Let him know what happened. He’ll probably threaten a lawsuit. He called Haskell a tool!”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, he is a tool. Now, come over here and sit down.”
“Oh, and he also said I should look into getting a real alarm system. Do you know anything about them?”
“Naw, island’s always been a safe place. But I bet Tom does. I’ll call him in the morning and see what he can come up with.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, sitting down beside him. “Let’s find a movie to watch. Something silly. I’ve had just about all I can stand of cops and robbers for a while.”
The following morning, a Saturday, I called for a water taxi to take me to the mainland. It would be a quick trip to Ace Hardware, then home.
When I returned to the island, I stopped by the boatyard and showed Jeremy my purchases.
“Looks good,” he said. “I’m meeting Tom for lunch and we’ll talk about the camera issue and a full-fledged alarm system. I’ll meet you at your place at five.”
“Great,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll see you then.”
As I backed my car out of the parking lot, I noticed Terrance Morrison getting on a water taxi. I assumed he was going to the mainland and, if so, Mary would be home alone with his grandfather. This could be my opportunity to speak with her without her husband’s interference. Formulating a plan in my head, I returned home.
An hour later, I pulled my car up the Morrisons’ driveway. The house sat at the top of a slight incline and, like Stormview Manor, was a large, sprawling mansion. Three stories, it was constructed of stone with leaded glass windows throughout. The windows were beautiful, but I wondered if they were practical. Old windows were often not air-tight and could wreak havoc on one’s heating bill.
I stepped out of my car, taking a deep breath. It was a beautiful, clear, albeit chilly day. We’d had a couple inches of light, fluffy snow the night before and everything glistened in afternoon sun. It was my plan to get Mary out of the house, away from the old man, and the weather was perfect for outdoor activities. I had purchased a pair of snowshoes in October and, knowing Mary was an avid athlete, hoped to convince her to take advantage of the conditions and teach me how to use them.
I pulled my snowshoes from the back of the car, made my way to the front porch, and rang the doorbell.
At first, there was no response and, pretty sure she was home, I was about to ring again when I saw the curtains part on one of the upstairs’ windows. Mary was peeking out.
Recognizing me, she waved and hurried to answer the door.
“Kate, what a surprise! What are you doing here?”
I grinned and held up my snowshoes. “I feel like doing something non-cerebral today. So, I thought about snowshoeing. I got these bad boys from L.L. Bean last month, but haven’t used them yet. I know you ski and I’m assuming you snowshoe, too. I tho
ught maybe you could give me some pointers.”
Mary smiled. “That sounds like fun. I haven’t been snowshoeing in ages. Come in, but be quiet. Grandfather’s sleeping.”
She ushered me into the foyer, glancing up the staircase as she walked. She, obviously, didn’t want the old man to wake up.
“I don’t know if I should leave,” she said softly. “But, I guess maybe an hour’s exercise wouldn’t hurt. He’ll be okay, won’t he?”
“He seemed pretty darn frisky when he was at the clinic. I’m sure an hour away won’t make much difference.”
She once again glanced up the stairway, then nodded. “Give me a minute to change and get my things.”
She came back a few minutes later wearing ski pants, a sweater, and a down vest. In her hand were a pair of snowshoes that, while they weren’t nearly as new as mine, looked way more professional.
“Let’s go,” she said in a whisper.
Once outside, I watched as she appeared to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Do you have poles?” she asked, holding up hers.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. They’re in the car.”
I got the poles and she showed me how to put the snowshoes on and went over the basics of the sport. Then, she motioned me to follow her.
“Let’s go out back,” she said. “There’s some fun trails through the woods that lead to the shore. If we’re lucky, we’ll see some wildlife – deer or foxes. I love it out here. It’s so quiet.”
It was indeed quiet. The only sound was that of our breathing and the occasional song of a bird or two. We’d been hiking for about twenty minutes when Mary stopped and motioned me to stop too.
Ahead, in a clearing, were two deer.
We watched them for a couple of minutes and, when we started moving again, they ran off into the woods.
“That was cool,” I said.
“Yeah. I wish I could be more like them. Living in nature – free.”
The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2) Page 21
