Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined

by Patricia Rockwell

“Miss Cobb,” Abbott said, as he sat down on the sofa and bent in towards Essie. “We have some questions for you.”

  “But Detective,” she replied, bewildered, “I don’t know anything about cocaine. I had no idea that was an illegal drug in my heart. I just assumed it was some sort of stuffing to give the little heart some shape. And when I actually saw the powder, the first thing I thought of was that anthrax scare from years ago when that maniac sent that poison through the mail. That’s why I phoned 911.”

  “You did exactly the right thing,” said Abbott, in an assuring tone. “There was no reason for you to suspect drugs. Actually, we’re rather surprised to find it, but it does create a new problem. As you can imagine, the government frowns on people sending illegal drugs through the United States mail. When we discover such a substance being sent this way, we are obviously anxious to find out who sent it. We’re also interested in finding out the identity of the intended recipient. Obviously, it wasn’t you. You were a ploy.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Essie, puzzled.

  “I mean, you were never the intended recipient of this valentine,” replied Abbott, his intense brown eyes unwavering as he looked at Essie.

  “But it was sent to me!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes,” he said. “But you were not really meant to receive it. At least, that’s what we think.”

  “How could that be, Detective?” she asked.

  “We suspect that someone probably planned to intercept this card before it ever reached your hands,” he explained. He maintained eye contact with Essie as he clenched his hands and cracked his knuckles audibly.

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler just to send the card to the person who it was intended for in the first place?” she asked.

  “Simpler, but not safer,” he replied. “If the card ever were intercepted by law enforcement—just as has happened—having your name on the card protects the actual recipient from being exposed.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Essie, shaking her head is disbelief. “How would this person even know that I got this card, or when I got this card in the mail?”

  “That’s a good question,” Abbott said. “And it’s something we don’t know the answer to. But, Miss Cobb, we have reason to believe that the person who sent this card to you is part of a large drug ring that federal agents have been tracking for years. We’ve been in contact with agents in Boston—where your card was postmarked—and they believe that your card was sent from a major dealer. Whoever the card was intended for is probably just a minor cog in the machine, but if we could nab this person, he or she might be able to lead us to the major dealer that we know is headquartered in the Boston area.”

  “From the return address?” she asked.

  “Not so much that,” he said. “You can write any false address as a return address and this guy knows that, but you can’t fake a postmark, and your envelope has a Boston postmark. We know where it came from and when. We need to move fast so we can help law enforcement in the Boston area crack this drug ring.”

  “I certainly hope you do, Detective,” said Essie firmly. “These people have caused me enough anguish.”

  “We need your help, Miss Cobb,” said Abbott, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

  “What?” she cried.

  “We certainly don’t wish to embroil you in anything dangerous, but we doubt that the intended recipient of this cocaine represents any actual threat to you. This is probably someone who has been using this scheme for some time now and needs the residents of Happy Haven to maintain this business. This person just wants the drugs so they can distribute to their users. They’re probably just a small-time dealer, a small part of a big organization. But somehow they have managed to involve you in their business. The only way we see to capture them is to use you as bait.”

  “What?” she cried again. Magee moved closer and sat next to Abbott on the sofa.

  “Detective,” Magee said. “I had the opportunity to speak with Essie before you arrived and I think you’re scaring her. Can you let me try?”

  “Sure, Magee,” said Abbott with a wave of his arms, rising and moving over to the window.

  “Essie,” said Magee in a soft voice, bending in to her, “I think what Detective Abbott is asking for is your help in catching a criminal. You were telling me earlier about how you’ve solved some mysteries here at Happy Haven. What Detective Abbott is asking for is your help in solving another one of those mysteries. Right, Detective?” Magee turned his head and looked over at the window.

  “Yup,” said Abbott, nodding.

  “Essie is a real detective herself,” Magee said to Abbott. “She’s actually rather famous around here.” Abbott listened to Magee list some of Essie’s exploits and responded with a shrug. He came back and sat back down on the sofa.

  “You can think about all of this as a mystery, Miss Cobb,” he said. “We don’t know who the intended recipient of your valentine is—and we need to know, if we’re going to break up this ring.”

  “And you think I can help?” she asked.

  “We do,” replied Magee softly.

  “We think you’d be the key to solving this mystery,” added Abbott. “So far, we believe we’ve been fairly discreet in our comings and goings. But just in case, we’re going to use a cover story that we want you to use too in case anyone asks why the police were visiting you. Just say that the police came to answer your call for help regarding an insurance phone scam. How does that sound?”

  “Fine. I can say that. Do you think this person might hurt me or anyone here at Happy Haven?” she asked cautiously.

  “Highly unlikely,” said Abbott, again cracking his knuckles. “Whoever this person is, they don’t want to jeopardize their set-up here by exposing themselves to you. So, will you help us, Miss Cobb?”

  “I guess so,” she said. “Will I need a gun?”

  The men laughed and smiled at each other.

  “No, Essie,” said Magee. “No pistol for you.”

  “What we need from you is information,” said Abbott, pulling out a small black notebook and a pencil. “So put your thinking cap on and see what you remember.”

  “My thinking cap is always on, Detective,” Essie said, rolling her eyes. “What do you need to know?”

  The two officers proceeded to quiz Essie about the particulars of the card and when she had received it. Essie informed them about all of her movements since the moment she’d pulled the envelope from her mailbox until the moment when she discovered the white powder in the little heart.

  “So, you would say that many people here at Happy Haven are aware that you received this valentine?” asked Abbott, ready to note Essie’s response in his notebook.

  “I can’t imagine there’s anyone who lives at Happy Haven who hasn’t heard about it from me directly or from someone else,” she said.

  “Hmmm,” said Magee, looking over at Abbott.

  “And, of course, someone searched my room,” added Essie.

  “What?” asked Abbott. “You think your room was searched?”

  “Yes,” replied Essie. “I came back to my apartment and I noticed that things were not in the places they were supposed to be. Nothing was missing.”

  “You’re sure?” asked Magee.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” said Essie. “It’s just that it appeared that someone had moved my things around. I think they were trying to find the valentine, but they couldn’t because I had it with me. I’ve kept it with me ever since I got it. Safe in my walker basket.”

  The men stared at each other.

  “Miss Cobb,” said Abbott, “we’re going to have someone keep an eye on you. An undercover agent. You won’t be aware of the person, but they’ll be around if you need them. I don’t like the idea of someone searching your room.” He cracked his knuckles even louder. Essie surmised that the more worried he became, the louder he cracked.

  “I don’t either!” said Essie. “I don’t like people messing with my things!”
>
  “So,” continued Abbott, “we want you to just go about your daily activities as if nothing is different. You can talk about the valentine if you want to but obviously, don’t mention calling us.”

  “But you have the card and the envelope now,” she said. “Before, I could show it to people. The ladies here really liked seeing it. It was from a secret admirer, you know!” Essie smiled proudly.

  “Yes,” said Abbott, “a clever ploy on the part of the dealer. If anyone from the Post Office opened the letter, it looked innocuous. “

  “You can pretend you have the card,” suggested Magee, “even if you don’t.”

  Essie thought about his idea and nodded.

  “Hmm,” she said. “I guess I can. No one needs to know it’s not in my basket anymore. I can still talk about it as if it’s there.” She reached over to her walker and patted the seat.

  “So, Miss Cobb,” continued Abbott, laying out his plan, “we want you to just go about your daily routine. Don’t do anything different or anything that might draw attention to yourself or to the valentine. We will be keeping an eye on you and if anyone tries to get into your basket, we’ll stop them.”

  “That is very reassuring, Detective,” said Essie.

  “We will do our part,” said Magee, cautiously, “but, Essie, you have to do your part if we’re going to catch this person. Don’t you take any crazy chances.”

  “Why would I do that, Officer?” asked Essie.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he laughed. “I’ve only known you for a little while, but I already have the feeling that nobody takes advantage of you. You’re obviously one smart cookie!”

  “I hope you’re right,” replied Essie. “And I hope that we can work together and catch this drug dealer.”

  At that, there was a loud knock on Essie’s front door.

  “Now who?” she moaned. The policemen looked at each other. Abbott nodded to Magee who rose and peeked out the door.

  “Essie!” cried both Marjorie and Opal standing in the doorway. Fay was positioned behind them in her wheelchair. Marjorie ignored the man clutching the door and forced it open.

  “Where’s Essie?” she demanded. The two women rolled their walkers in, followed by Fay in her wheelchair. Magee was almost thrown against Essie’s small sink.

  “Essie,” said Opal when she saw Essie sitting in her recliner. “Are you all right? When you didn’t show up for lunch, we all became worried that you might be sick!”

  “Or in trouble!” exclaimed Marjorie, glaring back at Magee who was cowering at the sink.

  Opal stared at Abbott sitting on Essie’s couch.

  “Who are these men, Essie?” she demanded.

  “You see, Officers,” said Essie calmly, speaking to both policemen. “I have a lot of good back-up.”

  “Officers!” cried Marjorie from the center of the room. “Have you been arrested, Essie? Don’t worry! We’ll defend you!”

  “I haven’t been arrested, Marjorie!” replied Essie, arms up in the air. “Calm down.”

  Abbott rose and motioned for the three women to take seats. He nodded to Magee to shut Essie’s front door.

  “What is going on?” asked Opal, seated on the small sofa next to Marjorie. Fay wheeled over to the far end of the sofa.

  “I’m a special agent!” proclaimed Essie proudly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Love is not blind—it sees more, not less. But because it sees more, it is willing to see less.”

  —Rabbi Julius Gordon

  “Umm,” said Abbott, “Miss Cobb, I’m not sure it’s advisable to discuss….”

  “Detective,” said Essie pointedly to the man who was now standing. “These women are my three best friends. I share everything with them. They know all about the valentine. In fact, they helped me find out most of what I know about it. There is no way I can keep them in the dark about all of this.”

  “All of what, Essie?” asked Marjorie. Opal and Fay also stared at Essie, expecting a response. Essie looked back at Abbott, with a pleading expression on her face.

  Finally, as the four women scowled at him, he threw up his arms. “Oh, all right! I guess it’s too late to keep them out of it now!” He moved over to the armchair where his coat was draped and sat down, scrunching the two stuffed animals resting on the seat cushion. A deep sigh escaped his mouth.

  Magee remained at the door, an almost imperceptible smile on his face. It was obvious to Essie that he hadn’t seen his superior in such a disgruntled form before.

  As Abbott slunk into Essie’s armchair, Marjorie and Opal sat up straighter. Eyeing the man, they quickly turned their attention to Essie.

  “What’s this about your valentine, Essie?” asked Opal.

  “Why are the police interested in a card from your secret admirer?” Marjorie chimed in.

  “My, oh my!” cried Essie. “I can’t believe this is all happening!”

  “Start at the beginning,” said Opal.

  “Now why should I do that, Opal?” sneered Essie. “If I start at the beginning, it would be a waste of time. You all know what happened from the beginning because I told you all about it. How I got this valentine from a secret admirer. Then you all helped me try to find out who he was.”

  “Actually, Fay did most of that,” noted Marjorie, smiling over at Fay. “If it hadn’t been for her, we wouldn’t have discovered that the return address on the envelope was fictitious and there was no such place in Boston.”

  “And don’t forget,” added Opal, “that Fay found out on the Internet that the company that supposedly made this greeting card didn’t exist. That’s what led you to begin to think that it was homemade.”

  “What?” asked Abbott, perking up from his chair. “You ladies actually researched this valentine when you received it?”

  “Of course, Detective,” said Essie. “Didn’t I tell you? Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we’re slow!”

  “Who thinks we’re slow?” demanded Opal.

  “And I told you that my granddaughter Mindy believed that the card was homemade, Detective!” added Essie.

  “What were you saying about the company that made the card?” Abbott asked.

  “Fay researched it online,” said Opal finally, in her authoritative tone.

  “And Fay is?” he asked, looking around. The silent lady in the wheelchair raised her hand sheepishly and smiled at Abbott.

  “And you found…?” he prompted her.

  “Oh, Fay doesn’t talk, Detective,” interjected Marjorie. “But she knows what’s going on, believe me!”

  “That’s for sure,” added Essie, smiling warmly at Fay.

  “And what did she find?” Abbott redirected his question to the other women.

  “She found that there is no Boston Bell Greeting Card Company,” announced Opal, regally. “That was the name in the logo on the back of the card.”

  “Where is the card, Essie?” asked Marjorie.

  “They took it to the lab,” replied Essie.

  “Why?” asked Opal. “Why do the police care about the identity of your secret admirer?”

  “Oh, not because of the secret admirer,” replied Essie. “Because of the cocaine!”

  “The what?” cried Marjorie.

  “Cocaine?” shouted Opal.

  “Ladies! Please!” said Abbott in a pronounced whisper. “Keep your voices down!” He looked over at Magee who was still manning the door.

  “Why would someone send Essie cocaine?” asked Marjorie. Then, suddenly, her demeanor changed. “Oh, my, Essie! Are you a drug addict?”

  “Of course not, Marjorie!” replied Essie, annoyed. “How could you think such a thing?”

  “You mean your secret admirer was trying to get you hooked on illegal drugs, Essie?” asked the ever thoughtful Opal.

  “No!” cried Essie. “If you all would just be quiet for a minute and let me explain, you’ll understand! I didn’t know about the cocaine, actually. I was just sitting here in my chair
examining the card. I kept thinking that the more I knew about how it was made, the greater the likelihood that I might be able to identify my secret admirer. After all, Mindy did suggest that the card was actually made by the same person who sent it. So, I figured that since my secret admirer made this card, I might learn something about him if I…well…took it apart.”

  “Oh,” said Marjorie softly.

  “The little heart,” added Opal.

  “Yes,” said Essie, nodding. “I got out my nail file and I carved open a small opening in the back of the heart and some of the stuffing fell out on my lap. I expected to see sand or salt or foam rubber or something similar. But instead I saw all this very fine, white powder. The only thing that came to mind was….”

  “Poison!” exclaimed Marjorie.

  “You mean you thought someone had sent poison to you in the mail?” asked Opal. “That seems a little far-fetched.”

  “Well, what would you have thought, Opal, if all this white stuff had puffed out onto you? It’s one thing to chastise me now, but I bet if it was you and you were all alone, you would have thought the same thing.” Essie puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms in annoyance.

  “Now, ladies,” said Abbott. “It doesn’t really matter what Miss Cobb was thinking or what you…Miss Opal…might have done. What matters is what actually happened. And that Miss Cobb called us. And lucky that she did. If she hadn’t, we would not have discovered the cocaine in this card and this drug ring would continue on unabated.”

  “Drug ring?” asked Marjorie. “You mean a drug ring here at Happy Haven?”

  “At least a part of it,” replied Abbott. “We believe the hub is located in Boston.”

  “See!” cried Marjorie. “That’s where your envelope was sent from, Essie!”

  “I know, Marjorie,” replied Essie. “It’s postmarked Boston.”

  “Maybe now the police can figure out that indecipherable return address,” suggested Opal.

  “No,” said Abbott. “That return address is indecipherable for a reason. The sender doesn’t want anyone to decipher it.”

  “I understand, Detective,” said Marjorie. “But I still don’t understand why this drug dealer in Boston sent this cocaine to Essie. Essie may be a little weird…”