Bitter Brew

by G. A. McKevett

  She had been fooled before.

  Every investigator was, once in a while.

  Unfortunately, people who lied every day of their lives often became quite good at it.

  Wrapping her arms around her weeping husband, Darlene said, “But we thought it was all settled. Her death was ruled to be from natural causes. The medical examiner was Brianne’s best friend, and they assured us that she’s very good at her job.”

  Dirk shot Savannah a quick, uneasy glance. Both of them were reluctant to reveal Jennifer’s culpability unless they absolutely had to.

  “Dr. Liu is an excellent M.E.,” Savannah quickly assured her. “But since her ruling, other information has come to light that has caused her, and us, to reconsider the facts of the case.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Dirk agreed, giving Savannah a grateful nod. He reached into the pocket of his bomber jacket and pulled out a couple of photos that Tammy had downloaded and printed from Earlene’s and Andrew’s social media pages.

  He leaned over and handed them to Darlene.

  “Could you please look at these pictures and tell me if you recognize either of these people?” he asked. “You, too, Mr. Marston, if you can. I’m sorry to have to question you at a time like this, but . . .”

  With what appeared to be quite an effort, Henry Marston gathered his wits, wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt, and looked at the photos his wife was holding.

  After considering them for quite some time, both shook their heads.

  “No,” Darlene said. “They don’t look familiar to me either. Who are they?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “The woman runs a support group for people with have fatal genetic diseases,” Dirk replied. “The guy attends those meetings. They both knew Brianne.”

  “Did she tell either of you that she attended support group meetings?” Savannah asked.

  Darlene glanced away, and Henry cleared his throat, also avoiding Savannah’s eyes.

  Savannah took that as a “Yes.”

  “You knew she was going then?” she prompted.

  Darlene nodded. “She told us, but she asked us not to tell anybody. She didn’t want word to get back to Paul about it.”

  “Why?” Dirk asked.

  Henry finally joined the conversation. “We don’t know for sure,” he said. “But Paul’s a super jealous guy. He could hardly stand it when Bri was out of his sight. He was so sure she’d hook up with some other man. But she wouldn’t have. She wasn’t the type.”

  “Either that,” Darlene added, “or maybe she didn’t want Paul to know because he’s the sort of person who can’t be bothered with the negative things in life. He wanted to pretend that Brianne wasn’t sick and everything was going to be just fine. He wouldn’t have wanted her to go to a support group and talk about what might happen, you know, further down the line.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, but it doesn’t sound like you two like Paul very much,” Savannah said.

  “There’s not much to like,” Henry replied. “He wasn’t that good to my sister, and after she got so sick, he wouldn’t let her friends come around to comfort her.”

  “We were having to take legal action to even see her ourselves,” Darlene added. “The last time we tried to take her some nutritious snacks and protein drinks that we’d made just for her, he wouldn’t let us through the door.”

  Dirk took the pictures back and replaced them in his pocket. “Do the names Earlene Kendall or Andrew Ullman mean anything to you? Did Brianne ever mention them?”

  “She talked about a Dr. Kendall quite a bit,” Darlene replied. “I don’t think I ever heard the doctor’s first name. She led the group. Brianne thought the world of her. Said she was kind and knowledgeable and very good at what she did.”

  Darlene smiled, then added, “A bit eccentric about her clothing and her office furnishings, but other than that . . .”

  “But she never mentioned this Andrew or Andy, huh?” Dirk asked rather gruffly.

  Savannah could always tell he was tiring of the small talk that was getting them nowhere. Patience did not number among his many virtues.

  “No. Nothing.” Henry suddenly looked suspicious. “Why? Do you think he might have done something to my sister?”

  “We’re pursuing all possible avenues of investigation,” Savannah interjected. It was a pat response that usually worked.

  But not this time.

  “If you’re asking about him, then he must be some sort of suspect,” Henry said, his former grief turning to anger. “Tell me the truth! Do you think he killed Bri?”

  “I don’t think nothin’,” Dirk snapped back. “It’s way too early to be thinkin’. I’m just askin’.”

  Chapter 27

  When Dirk knocked on the door of Brianne’s house, Savannah was surprised to see Dee answer it. After all the negative things the groom had said about Paul Oxley during their previous conversation, Savannah figured she would want to stay as far away from the main house as possible.

  As Dee invited them inside and seated them in the barnhouse’s massive living room, Savannah decided to file that fact away for future consideration, should she need it.

  Perhaps Dee and Paul weren’t as antagonistic as they had initially appeared.

  At Dirk’s request, Dee summoned Paul from the back of the house, where his studio was located.

  When he joined them, Savannah looked him over and briefly wondered if he was ever without smudges of paint all over his clothing, face, hands, and arms.

  Once the introductions had been made, Paul offered them coffee. With a twang of disappointment, Savannah passed on the treat. They had more important things to discuss.

  After they told Paul why they were there, she doubted that he would be interested in serving them anything at all.

  “I have something to tell you,” Dirk began. “I’m afraid it isn’t—”

  “I already know,” Paul snapped.

  Savannah was surprised. “You do?”

  “Yes. I’ve been informed.” He turned to Dirk. “Brianne’s worthless brother called a few minutes ago and told me you cops believe she was murdered. I think he honestly enjoyed telling me something as awful as that. He even accused me of harming her, threatened to kill me if I did. Like I would have ever done anything to hurt the woman I loved.”

  “I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” Savannah said gently.

  “Sounds like you and Henry hate each other’s guts,” Dirk remarked, far less gently.

  “Nobody gets along with Henry. Not even his own wife.” Paul ran his fingers through his blond hair, an act that left some green paint behind. “Brianne couldn’t stand him. She knew what he was after.”

  “What was that?” Dirk asked.

  “Her estate. He’d already run through what their dad gave him. He needed her money to keep them afloat a while longer. He and Darlene spent his inheritance like it was nothing. Now they’re broke, and they’re looking to Brianne’s estate to bail them out.” He stopped to catch his breath, then added, “If Brianne was murdered, you’d better take a hard look at the two of them. They’re the ones with the most to gain from her dying before her wedding, rather than after she had a husband.”

  Savannah watched Dirk as he carefully considered his response to Paul’s outburst. Because she knew him so well, she could practically see his mental cogs spinning, but he appeared calm and unmoved by what he had just heard.

  “Thank you, Mr. Oxley,” he replied evenly. “I’ll take everything you just said into consideration.”

  Savannah couldn’t help noticing that the formerly talkative groom had nothing to say. Dee was just sitting on the fireplace hearth, listening attentively to all that was being said.

  Try as she might, Savannah couldn’t read her enigmatic expression.

  She turned her attention back to Paul and said, “Henry and Darlene mentioned that you refused to let them visit Brianne . . . there at the end.”

  “I most c
ertainly did!”

  Savannah watched Paul’s face grow redder by the moment as he said, “They kept showing up, day and night, unannounced, and neither Brianne nor I appreciated it. I had my hands full nursing her, and she didn’t want to see them. She knew why they were here. They weren’t coming by because they were so concerned about a beloved sister. They hadn’t bothered to visit her once in the year before. Not even holidays. They just wanted to make sure they were on her good side in case she passed before the wedding.”

  “What sort of food did they bring?” Savannah asked.

  “Stuff they made themselves. Supposedly healthy junk to build up her system or whatever.”

  Dee cleared her throat and joined the conversation. “I tasted one of those concoctions,” she said. “I think it was some sort of protein drink meant to enrich her blood. It tasted horrible.”

  “Did Brianne drink it?” Dirk wanted to know.

  “She took one sip of it and spit it out,” Paul said. “It was disgusting. All she ever wanted to drink there at the end was the coffee I made for her.”

  For a moment, the angry version of Paul disappeared and a sweet sadness filled his eyes, reminding Savannah of her first talk with him, when he had impressed her with his love for his fiancée.

  “I’m not surprised that Brianne asked for your coffee,” she told him. “That blend of yours is some of the best I’ve ever had.”

  He smiled, but said, “Oh, it wasn’t my blend that she asked for. She wanted the special mix that her friend gave her. That’s all she wanted . . . there at the end.”

  Savannah resisted the urge to shoot a glance at Dirk, but in her peripheral vision, she saw him sit up straighter and lean forward.

  “What mix?” he asked. “What friend?”

  “It was some sort of special dark roast,” Paul told him. “She said it was an old childhood friend of hers who was keeping her supplied.”

  “A childhood friend?” Savannah felt her knees go weak. “Did she mention this friend’s name?”

  “Yeah. Jennifer Liu. She’s the county medical examiner. The one who did Brianne’s autopsy.”

  Savannah’s hand was shaking when she reached into her purse and took out her phone.

  Dirk saw what she was doing. He drew their attention away from her by asking Paul a barrage of questions.

  “Did you ever actually see Dr. Liu give her this coffee?”

  “Um. No. I’ve never met the woman.”

  “Then how do you know it was from the doctor and not someone else?”

  “She went out one evening, then brought home a bright red tin and said she’d just been with her friend Jennifer Liu, and she’d given it to her.”

  As fast as her thumbs could type, Savannah sent off a text to Jennifer: “Did U give Brianne red tin of coffee?”

  As she waited, she prayed the doctor had been released on bail and had access to her phone.

  “Then you don’t actually know for sure that it came from Jennifer Liu,” Dirk was saying.

  “Well, no. I’m just going by what she told me. Brianne wouldn’t have lied to me. Why would she have to—?”

  “She lied to you all the time!” Dee said.

  Startled by the outburst, Savannah looked up from her phone and saw that the woman’s eyes were bright with anger.

  Paul and even Dirk were taken aback.

  “Wh-what?” Paul sputtered.

  “Brianne lied to you constantly, because she had to,” Dee shot back at him. “She couldn’t do a damned thing—even the most normal, innocent chores, like going to the grocery store—without you interrogating her when she got back. You’d want to know everywhere she went, everyone she spoke to. If she stopped somewhere for a bathroom break, you’d want to know every detail. She told you white lies morning, noon, and night, just so she could have some peace!”

  Savannah felt her phone vibrate. She looked down to see that, thankfully, Jennifer had replied: “No why”

  Savannah answered: “Thx Later”

  Dirk dug into his pocket and pulled out the photos of Dr. Kendall and Andrew Ullman that he had shown earlier to Henry and Darlene.

  He held them out to Paul. “Have you ever seen either of these people?”

  Paul looked them over, concentrating on the one of Andrew. Then he handed them back and said. “No. Why? Who’s the guy? Did he know Brianne? Why are you asking about him? Was she up to something with him?”

  “See?” Dee threw up her hands. “That’s exactly what I mean. You’re shown a picture, and you automatically jump to a conclusion like that? She loved you, was far too good for you, but you never gave her a break!”

  Dee stood and walked over to Dirk. Holding out her hand, she said, “Let me see those.”

  He handed the pictures to her, then looked over at Savannah and down at her phone.

  She showed him the screen, just enough for him to see that she’d received a reply. Then she shook her head no.

  “Where’s the coffee tin now?” Dirk asked.

  “Still in the kitchen,” Paul replied. “Why?”

  “Show it to me.”

  Dirk stood. Paul did the same, then led him across the great room to the kitchen.

  Savannah started to follow, but then she noticed Dee carefully studying the picture of Andrew.

  “Do you recognize him?” Savannah asked.

  “I don’t think so. Just want to be sure,” Dee replied.

  “Good. Thanks.”

  Savannah saw Paul opening the kitchen cupboard over the coffee station. When he started to reach inside, Dirk said, “Don’t touch it. Just point to it.”

  She walked up behind them just as Dirk pulled a pair of surgical gloves from his pocket and tugged them on.

  “Who else has touched this tin?” Dirk asked Paul.

  “Me mostly. Brianne a couple of times, when she felt up to making her own coffee. Why?”

  “Anybody else?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Savannah felt Dee brush past her on the way to the back door.

  “Don’t leave yet. Wait for me,” Dee told her, as she went outside. “I’ll be right back.”

  Savannah watched as Dirk pulled a bright red tin from the cupboard and set it on the counter.

  He opened the container, then asked Paul, “How much was in here the last time you made coffee?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It was about half full, I’d say.”

  “When was that?”

  “The day before . . .” Paul choked on his words, then continued. “The day before she passed.”

  “I assume Brianne didn’t make any coffee on that last day.”

  “Of course not. She was too weak to move. Why are you asking me all this?”

  Dirk held up the tin so that both Paul and Savannah could see inside. “It’s empty. Not just empty, it’s been cleaned. Looks like there’s never been anything at all inside it.”

  Savannah moved closer to get a better look. He was absolutely right. Without a doubt, someone had cleaned it quite meticulously. It was spotless. The metal interior gleamed like the finest, freshly-polished silver service.

  One look at the astonishment registered on Paul’s face, and she believed he was as surprised as she was.

  “Do you have a housekeeping service?” she asked him. “Or any sort of help with Brianne, anyone who might have cleaned that and put it back?”

  “No. We liked our privacy. I did the cleaning myself, while Brianne was at work. After she got sick, too.”

  Savannah heard the back door open and close again. She turned to see Dee holding a small, brown paper bag.

  “What do you have there?” Savannah asked her.

  “Goat manure” was the unexpected answer.

  “Um. Okay.” Savannah couldn’t imagine what purpose goat manure might have at that moment, but . . .

  Without further explanation, Dee marched to a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen, pulled out a white plate, and placed it on the marble counter. Then
she handed Savannah the two photos that Dirk had given her.

  “I thought I recognized someone or rather, something, in that picture,” she said as she proceeded to open the paper bag, then hold it over the plate.

  “Hey!” Paul exclaimed. “What are you doing? You said that’s goat droppings in there. You’re not going to—?”

  “Yes, I am,” Dee replied, emptying the bag onto the plate.

  “You recognized something? What do you mean? What? Which picture?” Savannah asked, completely bumfuzzled.

  “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

  Having shaken the last bit of the bag’s contents onto the plate, Dee moved aside for the others to see. Then she slid the plate across the counter, closer to Savannah.

  As the groom had said, it was goat manure. There wasn’t a lot, but enough for Savannah to know what it was. It was a plateful of dark brown pellets that looked like shiny beans, not unlike what Savannah had seen in abundance inside the goat pen when she had visited the mini-herd before. She had also seen a lot of it as a child in McGill, where gardeners used it to fertilize their blue-ribbon winning flowers.

  “Last week, when I was mucking out the goats’ pen, I picked up a shovelful and saw this,” Dee said, pointing to the manure. “You can imagine my surprise! I was wondering what the heck the goats had eaten.”

  Dee reached over and tapped one of the pictures in Savannah’s hand.

  “See what that woman’s wearing there?” Dee asked her. “That fancy top with all the sparklies?”

  “Yes. They’re crystal rhinestones that she—”

  “I know. And that’s what’s in the crap.”

  Savannah leaned over the plate, peered at the droppings, and instantly saw what Dee meant.

  There, mixed in with the dark brown pellets, were bits of blue fabric that had, no doubt, been fine silk in a previous life. And scattered among the manure were tiny blue, purple, and iridescent rhinestones.

  It was, without a doubt, the most elegant poop Savannah had ever seen.

  She felt someone brush the back of her arm, and she realized that Dirk was right behind her, also looking at the plate and then the picture in her hand.