2 Address for Murder Page 9

  Buster and I stopped by the post office on our way back from the nursing home to Main Street, where my second loop would be delivered. I grabbed the mail already sorted for me, and we started across the street at Sugar Creek Gap Veterinarian Clinic. I had a box of syringes the staff needed to sign for, and as quickly as I could get that out of my hands, the better.

  Buster trotted right on in when I opened the door. I caught Kayla’s eyes. She was taking payment from a customer. Buster and I waited patiently. His tail was swishing to the right and left, dusting the floor. He was itching to look in the carrier sitting on the floor next to the customer.

  When he looked up at me, I told him, “Be a good boy.” I wasn’t sure how many commands Buster knew. I only knew he was really good.

  The customer picked up the carrier and smiled at me when she noticed Buster wasn’t budging.

  “He’s a good boy.” The customer looked down and smiled at Buster.

  “He sure is. And he’s looking for a new home,” Kayla chimed in, though she didn’t need to.

  “I’m sorry, he’s not. He’s mine.” I glared at Kayla. I knew she was passionate about animals, and so was I, but she didn’t have to be flat-out mean. “Kayla is mistaken.”

  I wasn’t going to take that from her, and I’d definitely address it with Doc Olson when I saw her.

  “I thought you said...” Kayla started to overstep once again.

  “I do have the right to change my mind.” I gave her the sweet southern bless-your-heart smile to avoid giving her a good cussing out. “Is Doc Olson available?”

  “I can sign for whatever.” Kayla was used to getting the packages, but I really wanted to see Doc. She put her hands out.

  “That’s okay. I’d like Doc Olson to sign if you don’t mind.” I didn’t move or change my mind.

  “Fine. You’ll have to wait. She’s with a client.” Kayla went back to doing some paperwork. Buster and I sat down. “Mail carrier magnet for murder,” I heard her mumble.

  “What did you say?” I jumped up, and Buster followed.

  The door to the waiting area opened. Doc Olson and a woman with a small pet carrier walked out.

  “Is everything okay?” Doc Olson asked me and looked at Kayla.

  “Can I see you?” I asked her interrupting Kayla as she stumbled over her words.

  The customer walked up to Kayla to pay her bill, taking Kayla’s attention.

  “Absolutely. Do we need a patient room?” She pointed at Buster. “Or office?”

  “Office.” That was my way of telling her that it wasn’t about Buster. “And if you don’t mind signing for this one.” I held the package out, and when she took it, I plucked the pen from my jacket pocket.

  “Thank you.” She scribbled on the piece of paper that I’d take back to the post office to let the syringe company know she received it. She motioned for me to follow her through the door. “I don’t mind if Kayla signs for those.”

  “I know, but I wanted to talk to you, so I just waited. Kayla was busy with a customer.” I really wanted to complain about Kayla, but I figured it would be best to keep my mouth shut.

  Doc Olson’s office was pretty basic. Her desk that had nothing on it. Her diplomas were framed and hanging on the wall. There was a coat rack with her purse dangling from one of the arms. Simple.

  “Buster is a good dog. I hope you find a home for him soon.” She eased down into one of the chairs in front of her desk, signaling me to sit in the one next to her.

  “I’m keeping him.” I told her and sat down as she suggested. We both gave him some good rubs when he walked between us.

  “Oh, Kayla said you didn’t know you were the emergency contact.” She looked confused.

  “I didn’t, but I still want to keep him. He and Rowena get along. But that’s not why I’m here.” So much for taking my own advice. I just couldn’t help myself. “Last night you mentioned you needed to go to the beautification committee because you’ve seen an uptick in poisoned clients.”

  “Yes. I had to go complain about Carla spraying it all over the place.” She shook her head. “Carla was so mad. She said people needed to keep their animals in their own yards, not the places she was spraying.” She snorted. “I told her the places she was spraying are public and pet owners have the right to walk their dogs, cats, or even lizards if they want to.”

  “Not that it’s any of my business, but I feel like I owe it to Lee and Buster to help figure out who might’ve killed Lee.” I was hoping she understood that I was talking about Carla being on my suspect list.

  “He was killed? As in murdered?” Dr. Olson hadn’t heard.

  “Oh yeah. No thanks to Lucy Drake, my new title is mail carrier magnet for murder.” I rolled my eyes. “Or something silly like that.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Anyway, how was he killed?” Her brows furrowed.

  “Poisoned.” That one word made it appear that her thoughts had frozen. “Poisoned,” she gasped and looked away.

  “Yes. But I’m not sure what kind, which is why I’m here. Do you know what kind of poison you’re finding in your clients?” Just then, I looked down at Buster, and I did owe it to him and Lee to help out as much as I could.

  As much as I wanted to see how things progressed with Mac and me, I wasn’t going to change who I was just to please him. I’d already been there and done that with Richard. Sometimes I got mad at Richard because he didn’t realize how much his big secret killed me or how much I’d changed over our marriage to make sure he was living his best life, which meant putting mine on the back burner. Even though I was pretty sure Mac didn’t have a second relationship, I was sure I wouldn’t go back to the person I was when I was married to Richard.

  “It wasn’t like I did the chemical panels to figure it out. And the animals obviously can’t tell me what they are feeling, so I have to go on diagnosis by their symptoms. They all have common symptoms.” She stood up and walked around the desk, where she opened one of the desk drawers and took out a notebook. She flipped through it and began reading. “Vomiting, diarrhea, lethargic, stopped eating. . .”

  She rattled off words I didn’t even understand.

  Finally, she looked up. “All poison that is tied to common household products like weed killer.” She scratched her neck. “Do you think Carla killed Lee? I mean, she was going full force last night at the meeting, saying how she didn’t want to speak ill of the dead but wanted to know who was going to go ask Luke when he would clean up the joint. Then she offered to pay out of her own pocket for someone to come if Luke didn’t budge.”

  “Did anyone agree?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t around for the end of the conversation, but I did see Lucy Drake there.” Her shoulders dropped. “What poison did Lee die of?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I shook my head. “All I know was that he was poisoned.”

  “Could it have been his own doing?” Her words made me pause. “I mean, I heard he was hoarding and had touches of dementia.”

  “Who told you that?” I asked.

  “Not that I like to gossip, but I do think this needs to be explored. Maybe I should call Sheriff Hafley.” She gnawed on her lip.

  “Actually, I have a meeting with her at noon, so I’m more than happy to tell her what you want her to know.” I did make it sound like I was going to help Angie, but I didn’t say I was, so I let Doc Olson believe what she wanted to believe. Especially if it made her talk.

  And it did.

  “Well, Vivian from the nursing home told me. She said Luke was going to spend a lot of money to get Lee in the nursing home. When I told her I couldn’t believe Luke could afford it because he’s on a payment plan here with his last vet bill for his cat, she told me about Lee’s stamp collection. Apparently he had a very expensive stamp that, if he sold it to the right person, would bring him a lot of money. Enough to cover Lee’s nursing home expenses and then some.” She sighed. “My own mother had dementia, so I understand how Lee could’ve poi
soned himself. My mom was always picking up some sort of cleaner and sprinkling it in her coffee, thinking it was sugar.”

  Doc Olson rambled on about her mom, and I was very sorry for that, but Luke said Lee had a very expensive stamp, and it made me think of the letter Lee said he was waiting for. A letter he said he needed to sign for and was in his daily digest email from the USPS. I still hadn’t received any such letter from Monica who did all the sorting and gave me those letters.

  I had to ask Angie if she found any stamps in the house, and if she had seen any certified letter for Lee. What about her mention that Luke couldn’t pay his bill in full and was on a payment plan?

  “I sure hate to hear about Luke’s cat. Did he have surgery?” I asked to find out exactly how much of a bill he couldn’t pay.

  “His cat is a she, and she didn’t have surgery. Just the usual checkup.”

  A knock at the door interrupted us.

  Kayla’s head popped out from behind the door.

  “Your next client is here.” She looked past me and at Doc Olson, and then Kayla left.

  “I’m sorry to cut this short, but let me know if you need any more information or if the sheriff needs anything. I’m sorry I didn’t test for a specific poison.” She walked me to the door leading to the lobby. “I just know they are all having symptoms from common household products, and it can’t be a coincidence with Carla spraying that dang weed killer all over.”

  She only said what I was thinking. The factual evidence was building against Carla. And I thought about that evidence as I quickly delivered the mail to the shops downtown. That she said to lace the biscuits with arsenic was reason enough for me to believe, plus the animals were getting sick from her weed killer, and Lee just so happened to die from poisoning. Apparently, she didn’t have an ounce of sorrow for the poor man, according to Doc Olson, who mentioned that Carla asked how quickly they could get Lee’s place cleaned up.

  “We need to tell all that to Angie,” I told Buster before I headed into Tranquility Wellness to drop off their mail. Buster sat next to the doors on the sidewalk when I went inside the shops to deliver their mail. He was so good. The company wasn’t bad either.

  The Wallflower was packed when I stopped in there. From the mumblings and murmurs I heard when I walked, I could tell they were talking about the mail carrier magnet for murder. A few of them even shuffled away from me.

  “Seriously?” I handed Mom her mail.

  “You know we are very superstitious around here.” Even though my mom was joking, it was still apparent that nearly everyone in here believed it, because even the men who sat at the stools at the counter had moved down a couple of stools.

  “Funny,” I told them and glared. One of those men was my dad.

  “It’s all in good humor.” Dad scooted back down and patted Buster on the head. “Peg, can you get Buster a drink?”

  “Hhmmm.” My mom headed back to the kitchen.

  “Any new gossip I don’t know about?” I asked my dad and looked around, knowing they’d been hearing all sorts of things. “The same regular thing about Carla losing her mind about the contest.”

  The bell over the diner door dinged. The hush that fell over the joint made me look to see what silenced everyone.

  Luke Macum and Walter Ward had walked through the door and taken a seat at the corner two-topper on the far left side.

  Mom rushed over, shooing the waitress away.

  “That’s where you get it from.” My dad didn’t bother hiding his pointing finger.

  “What?” I pretended like I didn’t know and went behind the counter to get Buster’s water bowl from Mom, which I practically threw down when she came back from the kitchen.

  Dad simply touched his nose.

  “Both you girls are nosy.” He shook his head and picked up his cup of coffee.

  “You wouldn’t want us any other way.” I kissed him on the top of his head and bent down to give Buster his water.

  “Why don’t you leave him here, and I’ll drive him out to the farmhouse later today?” Dad really liked dogs. He always had. “I ain’t got nothing better to do.”

  “Are you sure?” Not that I wanted to get rid of Buster, but I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with him when I went to the sheriff’s to see Angie.

  It was all new to Buster and me. He seemed to be doing a lot better than I was. I was worried someone would take him or he’d wander off. It was all part of the learning process— each of us was learning about the other.

  “I’m positive. I need to get to know him, don’t I?” Dad smiled.

  “How did you know I was going to keep him?” I asked, leaning my hip against the counter.

  “I could see it in your eyes when you walked in right through that door.” My dad and I had a different sort of bond than the one I had with my mom. Mom taught me life lessons in the form of baking. My dad, he taught me life lessons on the farm and during hunting season, which I hated.

  In fact, I never killed a thing with a beating heart in my life. Not even a gnat. But it was the long hours we spent in a deer stand or crouched down behind a tree trunk or even fishing in one of the many small ponds around Sugar Creek Gap that gave Dad and me the time to talk and ponder.

  “Thanks, I think he wants to stay.” I pointed down at Buster. He was lying under Dad’s feet fast asleep. “I think the walking has already tuckered him out.” I shook a parental finger at Dad. “Don’t feed him.”

  “Don’t feed him?” Mom had walked up and acted as if I’d committed a carnal sin.

  “Don’t. Doc Olson said he needs to lose weight. And if he’s not walking the rest of the way, then he doesn’t need to eat until he gets home.” I pushed myself off the counter. “What are those two discussing?”

  “Luke and the ambulance chaser?” Mom glanced back over at them. “What do you think? When Luke is going to let him sell the house.”

  “Did you hear anything?” I asked.

  “Are you snooping around again?” Mom replied. “Because if you are, I have to tell you that Luke was in here last night waiting for some stamp collector to meet him. From out of town.” Mom made it seem so dark and sinister. “The collector never showed, but that’s not the worst part.” She leaned to me and whispered in my ear. “Luke’s bank card.” She pulled back, her brows rising quickly . “Declined. I had to give him the meal.”

  Oh Lord.

  I glanced at Luke and Walter on my way out the door. It was time to meet Angie. How was I going to tell her Luke was also one of my suspects? She seemed very fond of him on the phone, which made me think he was one step ahead of the investigation and had very cleverly aligned himself with Angie to get the scoop and cover his tracks. I just couldn’t help but think if he had money problems, wouldn’t he try to get the stamp, and Lee didn’t want to give it to him. Maybe he poisoned his own uncle.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Angie all my ideas so this could be wrapped up fast.

  Little Creek Road delivery would have to wait until after lunch. I’d gotten stopped a few times about the murder, which really put me behind. Of course I already knew it would, but I liked to keep my ears open for little tidbits that might be clues.

  You never know what you’ll get from gossip. The truth had to be weeded out.

  The sheriff’s department was across the street from the Wallflower, and I knew I couldn’t stop myself from going into the WSCG radio station building unless I crossed Main Street in front of the diner. I would definitely see Lucy Drake on my way to deliver the mail on Little Creek Road.

  Angie was waiting for me and tapping her foot when I stepped into the door. She pointed at her watch.

  “Do you want to know how many people stopped me today about this murder while I was delivering their mail?” I asked her.

  “Fine. I don’t have all day,” she said over her shoulder as she practically ran, motioning me to follow her. “I’m going to have to record your statement because I don’t have any extra hands to type it o
ut.”

  She opened the door to one of their interview rooms, which sometimes served as the snack room for the staff. Angie pointed for me to sit down and then grabbed the paper plates and napkins from the center of the table, replacing them with a tape recorder.

  She leaned over and pushed the record button.

  “I’m Bernadette Butler, USPS mail carrier,” I started but, Angie met me with a sly eye. “What?” I asked her. She slightly shook her head. “I remember all this from last time,” I added.

  “We can skip the particulars. I want you to start with where you were taking Buster back to his home.” She waved for me to go on.

  “I thought it was odd that the gate latch was unhooked, only because I know Lee never left it open because of Buster. He loved Buster so much.” I actually missed the feller. “He is so good. He slept in the bed with me...”

  “Bernie.” Angie shut me up. “Stick with what happened.”

  “Yeah. Right.” I sucked in a deep breath. It was so easy for me to get off track, but I knew it would make Angie madder if I tried to say anything other than the facts, so stating the facts was what I did. I told her that I found it weird the door to the house was open because it took Lee a long time to unlock the doors when I delivered the mail and that I could always hear him locking them back when I left. “Which brings me to why I think Carla killed him. You said it was poison. Well, she said to me in the diner before Lee was killed to put arsenic in the biscuits my mom sent with me to give to him.”

  “Whoa!” Angie stood up from the chair across from me and put her hand up. She leaned over the table and clicked off the tape recorder. “I didn’t ask you to give me your opinion on who you think killed Lee. I asked you to tell me the exact details of how you found him and up until I got there.”

  “But you have to hear who I think did it.” I couldn’t believe she was stopping me. “I have good reason to believe…”