| |
Dottie sat alone in her library and reminisced the day. For some reason she felt sad and morose and she wasn't sure why. She knew she was grieving the death of Camilla so perhaps that was it. Maybe since the burial and luncheon were over, she was lost and let down. She reached for her house phone and dialed Michaela’s cell. She had seen on the news where the death toll at Biddy’s pub was three people, two young women and a police officer. She shook her head and cursed as a tear rolled down her face. She looked up as someone softly knocked on the library door.
"Come in, Cookie. I'm sure it's you," Dottie said, her voice more chipper than she felt.
"How are you, Countess?" Cookie asked as she inspected her employer from head to toe.
Dottie smiled and said, "Pretty good. How's Henry doing up there?" she asked as she pointed towards the ceiling. Dottie noticed the lines of fatigue on Cookie’s face and said, "Come over here and have a seat, keep me company for a few minutes and tell me how you're doing."
Cookie moved across the room and sat on the sofa opposite Dottie’s Queen Anne recliner. She put her feet up on a brocade hassock. "Doing okay. Just a little tired. It's getting late," she noted as she checked her watch.
Dottie's eyes looked out of the French door and said, "Yes, it is. It’s pitch black outside." She checked the clock on the mantle. "It's a little after nine. I must've fallen asleep for an hour or so," she said as she yawned.
"Have you heard from Michaela? Do you know how things are down at the bar?"
Dottie shook her head and said, "I just called her, but she didn't pick up. It looks like there were three people killed," she said as a shadow passed over her face.
"Yeah, I saw that. The local news said it looks like a different kind of poison. Did you see anything about that?"
Dottie's eyes widened and she repeated, "A different type of poison? No, I missed that. What's different about it?"
Cookie shook her head and said, "I don't think they know. The local news said it looks different than the poison from the other restaurants. It kills very, very quickly. These women died within a few minutes."
Dottie's ice blue eyes locked with Cookie’s brown ones. What could this mean? Does this mean the kill time is escalating? That people die much quicker? It must! Isn’t that what we’d expected? Slade said this afternoon the FBI thought the first set of killings were “practice” killings and the perps were testing the poison in preparation for the big one.
Cookie shivered and rubbed chill bumps from her arms. "That's terrifying," she said slowly. "I hope nothing much is happening this weekend." She paused for a moment and said, "But, I know there's Beaux Arts and other things going on all over town. Is VCU graduating this weekend?"
Dottie paled at the thought of a mass poison attack at VCU’s graduation. The hotels would be packed with parents and family of graduates. Oh my God, I've got to mention this to Mic and Slade. She looked steadily at Cookie and said, "I don't know, but it's possible. They usually graduate early in May, but I'll have to check."
Cookie looked around the room and asked, "Where's Angel? He was in here with you, but I haven't seen him lately."
Dottie shook her head. "I'm not sure. As I said, I fell asleep. Maybe he's in the kitchen in his bed or outside. Doesn't he get his arthritis medicine in a little while?"
"Yes, he does. Let me check around for him. Lord have mercy, Michaela will kill us if anything happens to Angel," Cookie predicted.
"I'll get up and help you," Dottie offered. "Honestly, if I don't move every couple of hours I'm so stiff I can't move." She sighed deeply and said, "I'm gonna miss Camilla so much. She was my running partner. I've not been to the gym since she died and I'm really feeling it."
"I'll walk with you, Countess. I can't walk as fast, but I can walk and I need the exercise," Cookie offered.
Dottie nodded and smiled, "That's a great idea. It'll be good for both of us. Now let's go find Angel. You start. I want to try and call Michaela again."
"Okay, I'll look outside," Cookie offered, as she got up and went outside and searched for Angel on the terrace.
Dottie reached for her phone and dialed Michaela's cell but got her voicemail. She’d dialed Michaela's landline when Cookie reappeared in the doorway, a look of concern on her face.
Dottie hung up the phone. "What, what's wrong?"
"It's Angel. I can't find him anywhere!" she said, her eyes filled with fear as a sob escaped her throat. “What are we gonna do?”
"Oh my God," Dottie said as she rose from her chair. "Mic will kill us. He's got to be around here somewhere," she said with more reassurance than she felt. She pictured someone throwing Angel a poisoned steak. She returned to her chair. She knew whoever had stalked her house earlier today would most likely hurt Michaela’s beloved dog. She lay against the velvet of her chair, closed her eyes and prayed.