about the third and final phase, as he talked about all of that, what I kept hearing was “It’s not hard to overdose,” over and over again.
When Gus paused, I asked, “So it was an accident? She wasn’t really poisoned, right?”
“At this time we have no reason to suspect anything else.”
“You’re going to do an investigation?”
He nodded. “But I honestly don’t expect to find anything. Simple case of accidental overdose.”
Simple, but so very sad.
“So if anyone asks”—Gus tilted his head in the direction of the pink-socked Lois—“feel free to tell her what I told you. Probable accidental death, but we’re still investigating.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “It’s nice of you to stop by.”
“You and Debra O’Conner were her only visitors in the hospital. I figure you both deserve an in-person stop.”
He left, and for a long time I sat there, staring at the wall. It was an accident. Cookie had been poisoned, but she’d done it to herself. My heart ached for the pointless tragedy of her death. What a waste and so terribly sad, but there was nothing hidden under the rug this time. No need for anyone to even whisper about murder. No need for nightmares.
I sat there a moment longer, thinking about Cookie, wondering what she’d left undone, wondering what she’d wanted to do but never had, wondering what she’d have done with the rest of her life, if she’d had it given to her.
Then I went back to work.
Chapter 5
A t half past noon, I had both kids in the car.
“Mom’s kidnapping us,” Oliver said, giggling in the backseat.
Jenna tugged her knit hat down over her eyes. “She blindfolded us and everything.”
“Yeah, she blindfolded us!” My grinning son yanked his scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around his head. “Think there’ll be a ransom? I have thirty-two dollars and eleven cents in my piggy bank. Will that be enough?”
Jenna snorted. “It’s not the people who are kidnapped who pay the ransom. It’s the people who want them back.”
There was a short silence while Oliver thought through the concept. “But if Mom’s the one who’s doing the kidnapping, who’d want us back bad enough to pay money for us?”
Smiling, I let them play their game. Jenna would be thirteen in June and she’d likely soon grow out of the whimsical nonsense that Oliver reveled in. I hoped not, though. I hoped that they’d both let themselves be silly, at least once in a while, the rest of their lives.
“Where are we going, Mom?” Jenna pushed her blindfold up.
It was the end of the semester for the middle school and the end of a marking period for Tarver Elementary. Both kids had half days through Wednesday, and my intervention instigators were bound and determined that I make the most of their free afternoons.
“We’re going to get some lunch,” I said.
“You mean at home?” Oliver asked tentatively. “Like peanut butter and jelly?”
Jenna peered through the windshield. “But we’re not going home. Or downtown. So we’re not going to the Green Tractor or to the Grill or to that fancy new place.”
Oliver bounced in his seat. “It’s a mystery! Where are we going, Mom?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a mystery, now, would it?”
“Keep your blindfold on,” Jenna commanded. “I’ll give you hints and see if you can guess where we are.”
Ten minutes later, when Jenna described a huge parking lot with a really busy road on one side and a really, really big building on the other side, a building that had lots of stores inside, Oliver yanked off his scarf. “The mall! We’re going to the mall!”
And so we were. As the owner of a downtown business, I eschewed mall shopping as much as possible, but there were times it just wasn’t possible. Today, for instance. Joe, a fellow downtown business owner, had a pizza place named Sabatini’s. He’d opened a mall store just before Halloween, and while I’d been meaning to eat
When Gus paused, I asked, “So it was an accident? She wasn’t really poisoned, right?”
“At this time we have no reason to suspect anything else.”
“You’re going to do an investigation?”
He nodded. “But I honestly don’t expect to find anything. Simple case of accidental overdose.”
Simple, but so very sad.
“So if anyone asks”—Gus tilted his head in the direction of the pink-socked Lois—“feel free to tell her what I told you. Probable accidental death, but we’re still investigating.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “It’s nice of you to stop by.”
“You and Debra O’Conner were her only visitors in the hospital. I figure you both deserve an in-person stop.”
He left, and for a long time I sat there, staring at the wall. It was an accident. Cookie had been poisoned, but she’d done it to herself. My heart ached for the pointless tragedy of her death. What a waste and so terribly sad, but there was nothing hidden under the rug this time. No need for anyone to even whisper about murder. No need for nightmares.
I sat there a moment longer, thinking about Cookie, wondering what she’d left undone, wondering what she’d wanted to do but never had, wondering what she’d have done with the rest of her life, if she’d had it given to her.
Then I went back to work.
Chapter 5
A t half past noon, I had both kids in the car.
“Mom’s kidnapping us,” Oliver said, giggling in the backseat.
Jenna tugged her knit hat down over her eyes. “She blindfolded us and everything.”
“Yeah, she blindfolded us!” My grinning son yanked his scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around his head. “Think there’ll be a ransom? I have thirty-two dollars and eleven cents in my piggy bank. Will that be enough?”
Jenna snorted. “It’s not the people who are kidnapped who pay the ransom. It’s the people who want them back.”
There was a short silence while Oliver thought through the concept. “But if Mom’s the one who’s doing the kidnapping, who’d want us back bad enough to pay money for us?”
Smiling, I let them play their game. Jenna would be thirteen in June and she’d likely soon grow out of the whimsical nonsense that Oliver reveled in. I hoped not, though. I hoped that they’d both let themselves be silly, at least once in a while, the rest of their lives.
“Where are we going, Mom?” Jenna pushed her blindfold up.
It was the end of the semester for the middle school and the end of a marking period for Tarver Elementary. Both kids had half days through Wednesday, and my intervention instigators were bound and determined that I make the most of their free afternoons.
“We’re going to get some lunch,” I said.
“You mean at home?” Oliver asked tentatively. “Like peanut butter and jelly?”
Jenna peered through the windshield. “But we’re not going home. Or downtown. So we’re not going to the Green Tractor or to the Grill or to that fancy new place.”
Oliver bounced in his seat. “It’s a mystery! Where are we going, Mom?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a mystery, now, would it?”
“Keep your blindfold on,” Jenna commanded. “I’ll give you hints and see if you can guess where we are.”
Ten minutes later, when Jenna described a huge parking lot with a really busy road on one side and a really, really big building on the other side, a building that had lots of stores inside, Oliver yanked off his scarf. “The mall! We’re going to the mall!”
And so we were. As the owner of a downtown business, I eschewed mall shopping as much as possible, but there were times it just wasn’t possible. Today, for instance. Joe, a fellow downtown business owner, had a pizza place named Sabatini’s. He’d opened a mall store just before Halloween, and while I’d been meaning to eat
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