I thanked the pharmacist and left, taking the printout of Clement’s medications with me.
I checked my watch. Tonight was the night of Darlene’s knitting club, so I had to be there shortly after she would need to leave if I didn’t want to have to wait until she went swimming on Monday. In the meantime, I had to hurry or I was going to be late to my supper with Mark and Stacey to talk about how we could get Russ to take our concerns about his health seriously.
Mark walked me out to my car after supper with Stacey, but he didn’t let go of my hand once we got there. “Are you really okay with all of us trying to talk to Russ independently first before we do an intervention-style sit-down?”
I’d been outvoted in our little meeting. Stacey wasn’t comfortable with confronting Russ as a group, which shouldn’t have surprised me considering how she’d been raised. Her father was a shy, private man who’d worked hard throughout her childhood to keep her out of the Fair Haven rumor circuit.
Mark simply hadn’t thought Russ would react well to it.
The agreement we’d come to was that we’d each find a time in the next week to speak to him privately and express our concerns. The theory was that it should have a similar effect of an intervention without the potential for negative rebound from Russ.
“I’m really okay with it. I think Saul’s advice was good in that Russ needs to hear it from more than just me, but I agree we need to adapt that general advice to take Russ’ personality into account.” I squeezed his hand. “Besides, if this doesn’t work, we can always try it the other way later.”
Mark leaned in for a kiss, and for a minute, I forgot how cold it was outside.
When we finally pulled apart, I wanted to snuggle back into the warmth of his arms. We were so close to our wedding now, only a few more months. “It’ll be nice when we can go home together instead of going our separate ways.”
Mark flashed me those dimples of his that I was sure I’d love until the day we died. “Did you want to go to The Burnt Toast for some dessert before we part ways?”
I did, but I couldn’t. Supper ran longer than expected, and Darlene would already be on her way to her knitting club. If I didn’t go now, I’d have to wait. “I’d like to, but I have to search my client’s house while his wife is away.”
Mark’s hand clenched around mine. “Why would you need to do that?” There was an edge to his tone.
I’d been so caught up in wanting to solve this conundrum and help Clement that I hadn’t thought this part of the plan through the way I normally would. Taking a step back and looking at it through Mark’s eyes, perhaps it wasn’t wise to go in alone. Even though I didn’t think Darlene would hurt me if she found me there—if she was guilty, she chose a very non-confrontational way to kill Clement—it was better not to take that chance at all.
I explained the situation to him. “I could use some backup. You can drop me off and then park somewhere along the road. If I’m not out before you spot Darlene’s car coming back, you can call me to let me know to get out. What do you think?”
“What are my chances of convincing you not to go at all?”
“Slim to none. It’s the only way for me to figure out if my client’s wife was trying to kill him.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to play Robin to your Batman again, because you know I’m not letting you go alone.”
I felt a lot less like Batman than like a cat burglar, but Clement had given me permission to go into his home and look for old pill bottles. And having Mark back as my sidekick on a crazy scheme reminded me of how we’d hunted for my Uncle Stan’s killer together.
Which unfortunately brought another idea to mind. It was possible Clement’s medications were the medications he’d been prescribed and that something else had been crushed up and put into his food at home. That’d been the case in one of my earliest investigations in Fair Haven, and it would also explain why Clement got better in prison since he’d stopped eating food from his own home.
If Darlene did that, I likely wouldn’t ever be able to prove it. I had to pray she hadn’t been that crafty. It’d have been much simpler for her to swap out the medications and allow Clement to harm himself without realizing it.
Clement had said he started sleeping after he ran out of the medication Darlene brought him from home. My original theory still seemed stronger than my new one. We wouldn’t know until I found a pill bottle.
On the drive there, I described the Dodds’ car to Mark as best I could remember it.
He let me off at the house. “Should I call or text when I see her car?”
A text would be less intrusive, but it could take too long. I’d have to have time to get to the back door and out into the woods before she entered the house or she might see me. “Call.”
I waved goodbye and walked right in the front door. With the way our world was going, I didn’t see how people still felt safe leaving their doors unlocked. I could have been someone intending to rob them or lie in wait and hurt Darlene as easily as I was Clement’s lawyer looking for evidence.
I got my phone out of my pocket—I left my purse in the car with Mark—so I would be able to answer immediately.
I moved slowly deeper into the house.
All the lights were off. As Mark pulled away down the driveway, darkness closed in on me, tight and heavy. My breathing shallowed, and I struggled to take deep enough breaths to keep from getting lightheaded. Now that I was living in Fair Haven permanently, I should consider petitioning them for more street lights.
I’d expected Darlene would leave a light on. I hated coming home to a dark, empty house, even though my dogs were there, so I always left the front light on and a light inside. Turning a light on in her house wasn’t an option. It’d be too obvious if she made it to the end of her driveway before I could turn it off after Mark called. I should have brought a flashlight.
My shin connected with something hard, my phone shot out of my hand, and I yelped. I bent over and rubbed the sore spot. Good thing they didn’t have a dog. I’d be dinner right about now.
Though I now had a bigger problem than becoming doggie chow. My phone was somewhere in the dark. I got down on my hands and knees and groped along the floor. I’d be in a real spot if Mark called before I found it. I’d have wasted all my time and gotten nothing to show for it. But at least it would light up if he called and I’d be able to find it.
Light up. I smacked my forehead. My phone had a built-in flashlight. If I could find it.
It felt like ten minutes passed before my eyes adjusted, and I spotted my phone wedged under the corner of the couch. I’d run my shin into their coffee table.
I swooped my phone up and turned on my cellphone light.
I made my way through the living room, giving the door into the office where Gordon died a wide berth. I’d check the kitchen first. Some people kept their medications there because they took them with breakfast.
The table and counters were clear of anything except a jar of peanut butter and a crumb-covered plate with a knife resting across it. Had Darlene eaten only peanut butter toast for supper? I knew it wasn’t left over from breakfast because I could still smell the warm yeasty aroma of toasting bread in the air. Maybe she’d been too short on time to cook.
Or…she’d told me Clement and Gordon cooked breakfast every morning. Not every woman, even of Darlene’s generation, was a good cook or liked to cook. If Clement was the cook in the household, it definitely meant Darlene hadn’t been seeding his food with anything that could cause insomnia.
If he took care of so much, the little lawyer’s voice in my head whispered, why would she want to kill him?
It was a question I couldn’t answer now. First I had to find evidence that she had before I looked for the reasons why.
