CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My mind instantly flashed to the man in the black coat and hat. There was no reason for him to wear a trench coat on a hot day unless he was trying to hide his identity. I went straight to my desk and pulled out my phone, hitting the redial button for Case’s number. It rang four times and went to voice mail, so I left a message for him to call me ASAP.
“Athena?” I heard Abby call.
“I’m in here.”
She stuck her head in my office doorway. “Is everything okay? The front door was open.”
“I forgot to close it.” I stood up and held out the piece of paper. “This was on the floor inside.”
She took the paper, reading it aloud. “ ‘Leave the investigation to the police.’ Wow. We must be on to something. Someone is getting nervous to leave a threat like this.”
“The note isn’t exactly a threat, is it?”
“The threat is implied,” Abby said. “Do what it says or face unknown consequences.”
“What do we do?”
“Be cautious. Make sure we keep the doors locked. Make sure we’re not being followed. Stay alert. It’s happened to me before.”
Followed. Suddenly the words of my pseudo-psychic sister sprang forth. Abby is being followed by a blue aura. The letters M and S. Follow your inner guide. Delphi’s visions were becoming harder to ignore.
“Have you noticed anyone following you lately?” I asked Abby.
“No,” she said thoughtfully. “Why?
I flexed my fingers again, this time feeling a tightness where a bruise was forming at the base of my palm. “A man opened the stairwell door right into me and knocked me down.” I pointed at the note. “I think it was the same man who left that.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
I shook my head. “Not really. He was moving fast. Tall, burly, wearing a black trench coat and hat.”
“How tall?”
A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “He looked pretty tall from my vantage point. I was practically on my back.”
“Could it have been Donald?”
I thought about it for a second and shook my head. “I don’t know. He seemed taller than Donald.”
“Charles Sloan?”
“No, heftier.”
“The security guard?”
I remembered the big, broad-shouldered man in the suit trailing closely behind the mayor at his last rally. He fit the description perfectly. “If it was him, then the note is most likely from Charles Sloan.”
“You’re right,” Abby said. “It would also mean that the security guard isn’t just the mayor’s bodyguard but, as we suspected, also his lackey, doing whatever the mayor needs him to do.”
“Like poisoning Carly.”
“And to play it out,” Abby said, “if the mayor is behind Carly’s death, then he intends for Jillian to take the fall for it. Hence the wording on the note—leave the investigation to the police—who’ve already decided on her guilt.”
I took another look at the note on my desk. “If the message is a threat, why leave it so ambiguous?”
Abby studied it for a moment. “An actual threat would be illegal.”
I massaged my bruised wrist, checking to see if it was swelling. Luckily it didn’t feel broken. “You’re right. Charles was a lawyer. He would’ve known to leave the note vague. I think he sent it.”
Abby huffed impatiently. “Which is why he’s been avoiding us. Somehow we have to get him to talk.”
I eased myself down at my desk, still stunned by it all. “What do we do about the threat?”
“Use it to our advantage,” Abby said. “The note is handwritten, which is extremely careless if it was written by the same person who murdered Carly.”
“Good point, but would the mayor be so careless?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Unless it was rushed, or he had his bodyguard send it. We need a handwriting sample from both the mayor and his bodyguard, just to be certain.” Abby sat down across from me and studied the threatening note in her hand. “But how can we get a sample without raising suspicion?”
“I think I have an idea.” I picked up my phone and punched in Lila’s number. After three rings, she answered, “Hey, Athena! How’s the investigation going?”
“Going well, thank you. That’s why I’m calling, actually, to see how your investigation is going.”
“My investigation?”
“Yes, Lila. Your undercover investigation?”
“Oh, right. It’s going very well! The mayor hasn’t tried to sleep with me or murder me, so I’d say he is clean.”
“Well,” I said, “it might be a little too soon to rule out the mayor completely. We should probably interview him first. Would you be able to get me an appointment with him sometime soon?”
There was a pause, and then she came back on the line. “He’s got meetings all afternoon, but if you could come by his tent at the fairgrounds this evening.... Say around six? That’s usually a quiet time. People are eating.”
I put my hand over the phone and said to Abby, “How about six o’clock this evening at the fair?”
“I can be there,” she said.
“Okay, Lila. We’ll be there at six. In the meantime, we’re going to need a sample of his handwriting. Can you get that for me?”
“What kind of writing?” Lila asked.
“His handwriting.”
“Of what?”
“Of anything,” I said. “You work in his campaign office. I’m sure there is something there with his handwriting on it.”
She paused, then said reluctantly, “I’ll try.”
“Oh, and don’t tell him that we’re coming to the fair tonight. Okay?”
“Why?”
“Because,” I explained gently, “it feels like he’s avoiding us, so I’d like to catch him off guard.”
“Athena, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve earned his trust. I’m part of his inner circle now. I can’t let him be ambushed.”
“Hold on, Lila. Do you remember why you were trying to earn his trust?” I paused to wait for an answer but heard nothing. “To help our investigation?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Then help us with the investigation,” I pleaded. “Make sure Charles is at the booth at six o’clock tonight and do not let him know we’re coming.”
“Okay,” Lila said slowly, “I won’t say a word. But you have to act like you just happened to be there. I don’t want him to know I set him up.”
“Will do. Thank you.” I ended the call and turned to Abby, “We’re all set.”
Abby checked the time and stood. “I want to get over to the jail and talk to Jillian, so I’ll see you back here at three o’clock to meet with Hope.”
“See you then.”
I limped back to the garden center with my bruised backside and scraped-up wrist, continuously glancing around for the man in the black trench coat. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the mayor who’d sent that note. It seemed too rushed and careless. But it could’ve been his bodyguard, possibly acting alone in his boss’s interests.
On the other hand, it very well could’ve been Donald Blackburn who’d written the note. He’d already confirmed his reputation for hiding in plain sight, and he also had big, burly bodyguards who fit the description of the man who’d knocked me down.
I entered Spencer’s to find everything humming along nicely, albeit much darker since we had to rely on the generator for power. I noted that Abby’s mom’s garden stakes, which were on display at the base of the statue of Athena, were selling well and made a mental note to let Abby know.
I stopped at our kitchenette to take some ibuprofen for the pain in my hip, then continued to the office, where I sat down at the desk to call Case. This time he picked up.
“Hey, Goddess, sorry I haven’t called you back. I just finished an interview and had to grab a bite of lunch. How are things going? You sounded stressed in your voice mail.”
I filled him in on my run-in with the burly stranger and the threatening note, letting him know what we suspected.
“The main thing,” Case said, “is that you’re okay.”
“A little bruised. A little unnerved. Otherwise, all right. Abby advised us to make sure we keep the doors locked and to be cautious.”
“That’s a good idea,” Case said. “What’s our next move?”
“We need to go back to the fairgrounds this evening to talk to Mayor Sloan. Lila said to stop by his tent about six o’clock to catch him. Want to join Abby and me?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be back in time. I have several more interviews to conduct. I’ll let you know if I can make it.”
My phone beeped. I checked the screen to see an incoming call from Bob Maguire.
“Hey, Bob is calling, and I need to take this.”
“Okay, I’ll be in touch later.”
I ended Case’s call and clicked over to Bob. “Hello, Officer Maguire. What’s up?”
“I found out what kind of poison was used,” he said.
“You did?”
“It wasn’t easy, but I got it.”
“You’re amazing, Bob. What was it?”
“It’s a chemical called tetrahydrozoline.”
I grabbed a pen. “Would you spell that for me?”
He spelled it out and then said, “In large doses it causes severe nausea and vomiting, rapid pulse, high blood pressure, and will stop the heart within fifteen minutes to half an hour of ingesting. And here’s the most interesting part. It’s the main ingredient in over-the-counter eye drops.”
“Seriously? So, someone emptied a bottle of eye drops into Carly’s water bottle?”
“You got it. It’s tasteless, colorless, and odorless. It slows the respiratory system and causes heart failure.”
“How would someone know to use eye drops?” I asked.
“There was a murder case a few years ago that aired on television that brought national attention to the product. I’m wondering if Carly’s killer expected the drug to go unnoticed. Medical examiners only recently started testing for it.”
“Interesting,” I said. “This is great information, Bob. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You can solve this case and send Walters packing. The sooner he retires, the better.”
“I’ll do my best. Thanks again.”
I hung up and sat back in my chair. Eye drops. Anyone could have purchased them. Anyone could have seen the television show about them. But which one of the people backstage would have been angry enough to use them?
My head was starting to pound from all the information I’d taken in, and my backside was starting to throb from sitting on my bruised tailbone. I called Case and left a detailed message about the poison, then left the office and went out back to see what Nicholas was up to. If anyone could take my mind off the case, it was my son.
* * *
At ten minutes before three o’clock, Abby and I sat down in my office at the detective agency and went over our questions for Hope. I had already filled Abby in on Bob Maguire’s information on the eye drops, which had surprised her. She’d come across one case where the poison ricin was used, but never anything involving eye drops.
“There was something else I found interesting,” I told Abby. “Tetrahydrozoline only takes about fifteen minutes to start working.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Abby repeated. “That’s quick. I can’t imagine a whole lot of people know that eye drops can poison someone, which once again brings me back to the chemistry teacher.” Before she could say more, there was a knock on the outside door.
“That must be Hope now,” I said, talking quietly. “Make sure you stay in Case’s office.”
“I’ll stay out of sight,” Abby whispered. “Do you have all the questions?”
I patted my iPad. “Got them right here.” I walked through the reception area, unlocked the front door, and opened it.
But to my surprise, it wasn’t Hope. It was her husband, Chief of Police Ed Louvain. And he did not look happy.