An Unthymely Death (26 page)

“What do you suppose we’re looking for?” Ruby asked, as I watered the herbs.

“You tell me,” I said. “This was your bright idea.” I paused. “Where’s the cat?”

“I don’t think a cat would be much help,” Ruby said, looking around, “unless he had Koko’s brains. What we need is an answering machine. Qwilleran always checks the answering machine to see if the villain has left any messages.” But although we searched the entire apartment, we couldn’t find one. “Go figure,” Ruby said finally, sounding frustrated. “A good-looking single guy without an answering machine? Doesn’t make sense.”

I went into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and peered inside. “If Jason is into drugs,” I remarked over my shoulder, “there’s certainly no sign of it here. All I can find is a bottle of garlic caps and another of St. John’s wort.” I frowned down at the bottles in my hand. In my experience, people who take drugs aren’t very likely to be involved with herbal medicine.

Ruby was rummaging in the drawer of the table beside Jason’s bed. “Nothing here, either,” she said. She went into the kitchen, and a moment later I heard her call. “China, I’ve found something!” She sounded excited. “Chocolate brownies!”

“Lunch first, dessert later,” I called back. I picked up a bottle of ginseng caps. Ginseng is sometimes used by people who are worried about the harmful effects of toxic substances on the liver. Maybe Jason was into drugs, after all.

“I don’t want you to
eat
them, silly,” Ruby said impatiently. “I want you to
look
at them.”

I went into the kitchen. On the counter was a small cardboard box, half-filled with what looked like homemade chocolate brownies.

“Do you suppose somebody sent him these?” Ruby asked. “If so, I wonder what else is in them—besides chocolate, I mean.” She looked longingly at the brownies, which were chocolaty-rich and inviting. “They certainly do look wonderful. And half of them are already gone. I suppose he ate them.”

“We can ask McQuaid to get them tested at the DPS crime lab in Austin,” I said. McQuaid has done a couple of jobs for the Department of Public Safety, and he knows almost everyone there. “An analysis would tell us the contents, for sure.” I frowned. “But I think Jason would be suspicious of anything Kaye sent him, even if he loved chocolate. This must have come from somebody else.”

“But who?” Ruby asked.

I bent over the garbage pail and pulled out a padded mailing envelope, being careful to hold it with the tips of my fingers. “Maybe this is our answer,” I said. “It’s addressed to Jason Wagner.”

“Does it have a return address?” Ruby asked excitedly.

The ink was badly smudged, and it took a minute to decipher it. “The first name seems to be Phyllis,” I said. “The last name looks like Anderson.”

“The address?” Ruby asked. As I read it aloud, she copied it onto a scrap of paper. “Phyllis Anderson,” she muttered. “Who the heck is
she
?”

McQuaid was headed into Austin that afternoon, so he took what was left of the chocolate brownies, and the mailing envelope as well. Back at the shop, Ruby phoned Ginger, the manager of Jason’s apartment building, and learned that Phyllis Anderson was Jason’s girlfriend.

She put down the phone and turned to me. “And guess where Phyllis works, China. At the drug treatment center! She might have had access to heroin.”

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” I asked, turning away from the shelf where I was stocking herbal soaps. “We have no idea what’s in those brownies, Ruby. And why would Jason’s girlfriend want to harm him? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Ruby was confident. “We’ll find out when we talk to her. Let’s go over after we close for the day.”

“We can decide that
after
we’ve heard from McQuaid,” I said firmly. “Chances are that those are just ordinary brownies, with nothing in them but a lot of chocolate.”

But I was wrong. That evening, just as I was closing out my cash register, McQuaid called to confirm that the brownies we found in Jason’s apartment had been liberally laced with heroin.

“Enough to kill a horse,” he added grimly. “And the only prints on the mailing envelope belong to Jason. Whoever wrapped that package went to the trouble of wearing gloves.”

“Thanks for the information,” I said. I paused. “It’s your turn to cook dinner tonight, isn’t it? I’ll probably be a little late. Ruby is giving me a ride home, and we need to stop and see somebody.”

“China,” McQuaid said in a warning tone, “we’re not talking accidental drug overdose any longer. This is a case of attempted murder. It’s a matter for the police.”

“Yes, I know,” I said quietly. “See you later, babe.”

 

 

Phyllis Anderson lived in a small house not far from the clinic where she worked. When she answered our knock, her brown hair was disheveled and her eyes were red, and I knew she’d been crying. Ruby and I identified ourselves as friends of Jason and asked if we could talk.

Phyllis’s eyes widened and she clutched at the doorknob. “He’s not worse, is he? I was just on my way to the hospital.”

“No,” I said. “May we come in? This won’t take long.”

We talked for fifteen minutes or so. Afterward, as we walked out to the car, Ruby said earnestly, “China, I believe Phyllis when she says that she didn’t send Jason any brownies. And I don’t believe she would try to poison him. She seems to genuinely love him.”

“She certainly gives every appearance of telling the truth,” I said cautiously. Past experience has taught me that even the nicest people are capable of lying—and much worse. “But there’s someone else we ought to see this evening,” I said. “She doesn’t live very far from here.” Within five minutes, Ruby was parking her car in front of Kaye Kennedy’s house.

Kaye lived in a large duplex, with window boxes planted with blooming pansies. Obviously, somebody in the house had a green thumb. Ruby rang the doorbell several times. Finally, it was opened a crack and a tremulous voice with a distinctive Southern accent asked, “Who is it? What do you want?”

 

 

 

“China Bayles and Ruby Wilcox,” I said. “We’ve come to see Kaye. Is she home?”

“Wait here and I’ll see,” the woman said and stepped back, leaving the door partway open. From the rear of the house, we could hear voices. After several moments, Kaye Kennedy came to the door.

“Well?” she demanded brusquely. “What do you want?”

“You’d probably rather we talked inside,” I said. “It’s about Jason Wagner—and I don’t think you want your neighbors to overhear.”

A moment later, we were seated in the living room. The woman who had first answered the door came in. “There are soft drinks in the fridge,” she said tentatively. “May I—”

“Thanks, Dora, but I don’t think our guests are staying long,” Kaye said. “And didn’t you say you have some laundry to do?” Dismissed, Dora dropped her head and obediently disappeared.

“So, what’s all this about?” Kaye demanded. She was dark-haired, of middle height and muscular, and her dark eyes were intense. She glanced at Ruby, then at me. “Don’t I know you?”

“We’ve met at the gym,” Ruby said smoothly. “We’re friends of Jason’s. I suppose you’ve heard what happened to him.”

If Kaye was disturbed by the question, she didn’t betray it. “Somebody told me he was in the hospital,” she said. “I didn’t catch the details.”

“It was an overdose of heroin,” I said. “He’s in a coma.”

Something came and went in her eyes and she hesitated. But her voice was flat when she said, “I wouldn’t have thought Jason would do drugs, but the quiet ones fool you every time.”

“It was an
accidental
overdose,” Ruby said. She frowned. “Accidental on his part, I mean—but deliberate on somebody else’s. He received a package of brownies with heroin in them. He was poisoned.”

Kaye’s eyes widened. “Poisoned? You’ve got to be kidding. Who would want to poison Jason? He’s such a sweet guy.”

Who, indeed?
I thought. “Fortunately for him, he ate only a few, which is why he isn’t dead right now. The police lab tested the rest and identified the heroin.” I paused. “Jason told me he was being stalked, so we suspect that it was the stalker who sent them.”

Kaye’s eyes slid away. “I don’t know why you’re telling me all this,” she said.

“We thought you might be able to suggest who might have wanted to kill him,” I replied. “After all, you and he were close friends.”

Kaye looked uncomfortable. “Yes, but that was months ago. He’s seeing someone else now.”

“Maybe it was somebody at the gym,” Ruby suggested. “Can you think of anyone there who had a grudge against Jason?”

“Not a soul,” Kaye said, shaking her head. “Everybody seemed to like him. I’m sorry I can’t help,” she added, her voice softening. “What Jason and I had was good, while it lasted. I hope they find whoever did it.”

Ruby sighed. “Well, now that the cops know about the brownies, they’ll be searching the apartment. I’m sure they’ll find the audiotape, and the mystery will be solved.”

I turned with a questioning look to Ruby, but Kaye beat me to it. “Tape?” she asked sharply. “What tape?”

“Jason told us that he taped the stalker’s first phone call,” Ruby replied. “Apparently what the guy said left no doubt as to his identity.”

Kaye’s eyes were fixed on Ruby’s face. “The stalker was a man?”

“Actually, Jason didn’t say,” Ruby replied. “But we’ll find out when the police turn up that tape.” She stood up. “Thanks for talking with us, Kaye.”

“Keep me posted,” Kaye replied, rising as well. “I’m really sorry to hear what happened to him.” Somehow, I didn’t quite believe her. And on the way out, I noticed that the kitchen door was just swinging shut. Dora had been listening.

When we got to the car, I turned to Ruby. “What’s all this about an audiotape?” I demanded. “What do you know that I don’t?”