I opened each cupboard and the drawers. No pill bottles. Clement said he only took the one medication, so he didn’t use the weekly pill dispenser that my Uncle Stan used to have.
If the pills weren’t in the kitchen, that left Clement and Darlene’s bedroom and bathrooms. I’d used their powder room during my brief visit to see Darlene. It was a pedestal sink with no medicine chest or other storage in the room where someone would keep medications.
I went back the way I’d come and crossed to the other side of the house. Presumably that’s where the bedrooms and full bathroom were since I hadn’t seen them yet.
The first door I opened must have been a bedroom in a prior life. Now it was stacked full of boxes, a lantern, and a two-man logging saw that had to be at least five feet tall.
Clement’s meds wouldn’t be in there unless he wanted to lose them.
I opened the next door. Bingo. Master bedroom. The door off the other side must lead into their bathroom. I’d check there first.
I looked on the sink, in the vanity under the sink, and in the medicine chest. No pill bottles belonging to Clement. This might have been a fool’s errand. Most people threw away empty medicine bottles as soon as they took the last dose, and the bathroom garbage had clearly been emptied recently. If there’d been an empty bottle here, it would have been gone over a month ago since Darlene left the most recent bottle at the Fair Haven police station for Clement.
I needed to look for bottles that would still be here after a month. The only trash can in my house that didn’t get emptied often was the one in the bedroom.
I shone my light around the room. A trash can huddled next to the dresser. I went over and nudged it with my foot. A couple of tissues, an empty tube of hand cream, and a mint wrapper.
Darlene had to be almost done at her knitting club. I didn’t know how far away it was. Just because I’d never heard of a knitting club in Fair Haven didn’t mean there wasn’t one. Knitting wasn’t exactly my thing. I’d have likely taken an eye out with the needles.
All I could hope was that her club was in a nearby town instead. At least Mark hadn’t called me yet.
I tapped my foot. If I were a pill bottle, where would I hide?
Smart, Nikki. If you were a pill bottle, you wouldn’t hide anywhere because you wouldn’t be a sentient being.
So if I were someone who took medication, and I kept it in my bedroom, where might I drop a bottle if I didn’t want to cross the room to throw it out? My Uncle Stan used to keep his medications in the drawer of his bedside table.
I pulled open the drawer of one bedside table. Ladies reading glasses and a romance novel lay inside. That drawer must belong to Darlene.
One last chance. I’d check the other bedside table, and then I’d leave, even if Mark hadn’t called. If it wasn’t here, I was out of ideas, and Darlene could be home any moment.
Clement’s drawer stuck. The force of my pull rattled the bed stand, and a shiver raced down my chest. I glanced automatically over my shoulder toward the door. I needed to get out of here. I was starting to get jumpy, my heart beating so loud I might not have been able to hear the door open over it.
After all, what did I really expect Mark to do if Darlene caught me here somehow and wanted to kill me? It’s not like he was in the house with me.
I wriggled the drawer more gently, and it slid open. An empty pill bottle rolled to the front.
Finally.
I grabbed it out and shoved the door tightly closed. Hopefully there’d be enough residue inside that I could get it tested by a lab to determine what’d been in it.
A creak came from the front of the house, and then the front door banged shut.
19
I almost lost my grip on both my phone and the pill bottle. My fingers shook so hard I missed hitting the spot to turn my cell phone light off the first time I tried.
The screen still glowed, though. Darlene would see it—and me—if she came back to this part of the house. Why hadn’t Mark called to warn me?
If he thought he saw Darlene’s car now, he’d call and give me away. I turned my phone off and jammed it into my pocket.
I had to get out. Maybe I could sneak past Darlene.
I tiptoed to the door and strained to hear. Her footsteps were coming toward me. The whapping noise sounded like she’d exchanged her shoes for heel-less slippers.
There’d be no way I could explain snooping around her bedroom in the dark. She’d know I was looking for something I didn’t want to tell her about, and if she had hurt Clement, she’d make sure any evidence of it was gone. Tipping off a person you were investigating was one of the worst things that could happen.
I could make a break for it and hope she didn’t recognize me, but that seemed unlikely. She’d probably turned on at least one light in the main part of the house. Besides, she’d call the police to report a break-in and my fingerprints were all over the place. I could argue to the police that I’d been in the house previously, but Darlene would still guess I might have been the one. That brought me right back to tipping her off if she was the guilty party.
The only other door in the room led into the bathroom. Hiding in the bathroom wouldn’t work, either. With my luck, she was heading this way to get ready for bed.
Bed! Could I fit under the bed?
It was a canopy style, so it didn’t rest flat on the ground. Assuming Darlene and Clement hadn’t stored too much stuff under there, I might be able to wiggle in.
I dropped to my belly and slid in sideways, my head at the head of the bed and my feet at the feet. The lights flared on. I froze. My body was completely underneath the bed, but I’d planned to move farther back from the edge. Right now, if I moved too much, she’d likely be able to spot the motion.
I wished she’d left the lights off for another reason, too. They illuminated everything else that was under the bed with me, including a balled-up sock, some rumpled tissues, and a lot of dust and cobwebs. At least it was good to know I wasn’t the only person who regularly forgot to clean under the bed.
Darlene’s slipper-covered feet—they were blue and looked a bit like she was wearing an 80s shag carpet—moved past the bed and toward the bathroom. Seemed like I’d made the right call not to hide in there. If she filled the tub, I might be able to escape while she was bathing.
The sound of water running started, but it was too small for the tub, more like the sink tap.
A tingle tickled my nose.
Do not sneeze, I mentally chanted to myself. Don’t do it.
I’d heard somewhere that if you pressed a finger to the pressure point under your nose it would stop a sneeze. I’d never tried it before, but I wasn’t going to be able to hold it in much longer without some sort of help. I eased my hand up from my side.
