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It was after 5:00 when Dottie bid the last guest goodbye. She was exhausted. She passed by the kitchen where the caterers were packing up dishes under Cookie’s watchful eye.
"Is Henry okay?" Dottie asked. She knew Henry had been upset by the trespasser loitering outside by the trashcans. Henry was a great guy and the couple had been loyal for many years. They were, in fact, along with Michaela, Dottie's “adopted” family. Of course, she had a few long-lost relatives in Italy and one great niece who couldn’t wait for her to die so she would inherit her title. Dottie gritted her teeth when she thought about her. Dottie loved Cookie and Henry and knew she couldn't make it without the two of them.
"I think he's okay," Cookie said as she spooned potato salad in a plastic container. "I just went up and checked on him. He's fine. He took one nitroglycerin but honestly, I don't think he needed it. I made him take it," she said sheepishly.
"Oh, I didn't know he had chest pain," Dottie said, her eyebrows arched in concern.
"He didn't. I just thought he might. He wants to come down and help clean up, but I told him to rest," she said not looking at Dottie in the eyes. She was more upset than she wanted the countess to realize.
"I'm sure the caterers can finish up here. Why not go up and stay with him," Dottie said in an unusual display of concern.
Cookie turned her back so Dottie wouldn't see the tears pop in her eyes and said, "I'll go up shortly, Countess. Would you like me to have the caterers bring some sandwiches and salads into the library? General Rothrock, Michaela, and Dr. Grey are in there now talking."
Dottie nodded. "Please, they’re all probably hungry. I doubt any of them ate anything," Dottie said as she walked behind the enormous bar in the kitchen and put her arm around Cookie’s shoulders. She whispered, "Promise me you'll go up and tend to Henry. You know I can't do without either of you," she admitted softly.
Cookie was surprised but nodded and said, "I will, Countess. You best go and visit with your guests. There's probably a lot of important stuff being said.”
Dottie nodded at the caterers and left the kitchen. She wondered what was wrong with her. She’d teared up twice in the smoking room and gotten teary-eyed with Cookie. Was she losing it? Was something going to happen to her? Her feet were killing her. She'd worn high heels all day. She stopped at the butler’s pantry and pulled out a pair of her bedroom shoes she stored there. No one would care. After all, she was among friends feeling humble and sad. Not feelings she often experienced, much less admitted to.
She mused over these feelings as she opened the door to the library. Michaela, General Rothrock, and Dr. Peggy Grey sat at the game table. Slade had returned to work.
“Countess, I don't know how to thank you for hosting the luncheon this afternoon. It was most kind of you and I know my mother would have loved it and had a great time," Stuart said as he stood when she entered the room.
Dottie smiled and flashed him a smile. "Stuart, your mother would have been the life of the party. By the way, I have it on good authority that she's doing fine and loving it up there,” Dottie said as her eyes looked up. “But I’m pretty sure she’s a big part of the dancing and partying in Heaven," Dottie said as she glanced at Michaela out of the corner of her eye. She saw Mic roll her eyes. Dottie stared at her but remained quiet.
Stuart pulled a chair up to the table and Dottie sat down. Peggy Grey touched her hand and said softly, "I'm so sorry, Countess Borghase. I know you'll miss her deeply." Dottie nodded and Peggy continued, "I was just giving General Rothrock the final information on his mother's death."
Dorothy raised her eyebrows. "Are there any surprises?"
Peggy shook her head. "No, not really. But there are a few things we’ve picked up from other laboratory reports we've analyzed."
Mic smiled to herself. She knew Peggy Grey so well. She didn't want to use the word “autopsy” or “victim” around survivors. She already missed Slade who’d left with Stoddard to work on the case. They hoped to locate the lab the perps were using and search hospital orders for large amounts of chemicals and pharmaceuticals.
“Dr. Grey, is there anything new on the other poison cases,” General Rothrock asked, “that may be related to my mother’s case?”
Peggy put on her reading glasses and looked through a few papers. "Yes, sir. We picked up a few things. The poisoners are altering the poison each time they strike."
"What exactly do you mean?" Michaela asked. "I don’t follow."
"What I'm trying to say is the killers are changing the strength and toxicity of the poison each time they strike. In other words, they’re altering the poison each time — sort of like experimenting."
Rothrock was quiet for a moment as he digested the information. "Is the poison the same? Is it always the belladonna?"
Peggy nodded and said, "Yeah, so far it is, but what concerns us about these small chemical changes is there's a good chance they're still experimenting."
Rothrock’s eyes met Mic's and the two of them stared at each other. “So, they’re creating the perfect weapon?”
Peggy nodded. “Yeah, the perfect weapon... the poison compound that will kill the largest number of people the fastest, most efficient way.”
Mic swallowed hard. This was bad, just as she’d feared it would be.
“What evidence do you have to validate this?” Rothrock asked as he looked at her.
“We’ve got a body. A John Doe. A floater we fished out of the James this morning. Looks like he was a live pin cushion for belladonna research.”
Mic was quiet and could feel her heart begin to pound. Her body was cold all over.
Rothrock had heard about the floater earlier and he weighed the repercussion as Michaela felt the knot tighten in her stomach. Peggy Grey was never wrong. The killers were searching for the perfect potion and the perfect venue. It would be the perfect storm. And it was coming to Richmond.
Peggy interrupted her thoughts as she looked at the general and said, “These perps have gotta have a lab. They are using some sophisticated equipment to titrate these poisons. We’ve got to find it. RPD is looking for it as we speak.”
Mic’s cell vibrated and she reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She had a text. It was from Sean, her bar manager. Her heart raced in her chest as she read it. She was dizzy and her shaking hands dropped the phone. “We’ve been hit, I’ve got people down. Three are dead. Down at Biddy’s. I’ve gotta go.”
Dottie glanced down at Angel who growled. He stood beside Michaela. His ears were back and his teeth bared. The hair stood up on his shoulders. He was on full alert. Dottie rubbed chill bumps from her arms. She’d forgotten how ferocious and terrifying Angel could become in an instant.
Peggy touched Mic’s arm, “I don’t know what you’re saying. What’s happened at Biddy’s?”
Michaela was pale as a ghost. “They’ve hit Biddy’s. The poisoners. There are already three people down.” She stared calmly at Dottie. “Call 911. Keep Angel for me. I don’t want him around any poison.” She reached down to reassure her dog who remained on alert. “And call and tell Slade.”
Rothrock grabbed her arm. “I’ll go with you, Mic. I’ll drive. I’ll get my car,” he said as Mic ordered Angel to stand down.
Mic nodded and said, “Will you stay with him, Dottie? He’ll be okay after we leave. Maybe Cookie could give him a bone to entertain him. If you have to, give him a sedative. You have some right?
Dottie nodded. She was on the phone with Richmond 911. "Yeah, yeah. I have all of Angel’s medicines here. Just in case, let’s go ahead and give it to him."
Mic bent down, talked softly to Angel and then led him into the kitchen. He stood obediently next to Cookie but looked longingly at Mic. He wanted to go with her. He knew she was in danger. Mic leaned down, kissed him on the head and told him to stay with Dottie. She went into the kitchen and reached for his sedative. She wrapped it in a pill pocket. Mic gave Angel the pill and she and the general left quickly. Angel watched her sadly from the sidelights that flanked the front door.