Midsummer Murder (19 page)

“Don’t worry about me, Mom. Go on with what you have to do. I can entertain myself.”

Lindy nodded and went to make a quick visit to Robert. She turned to give her daughter a wave, but Annie was deep in conversation with Donald Parker.

* * *

Then she saw Robert asleep at his desk. He was slumped forward, head resting on a jumble of papers. He must be tired, thought Lindy.

He hadn’t even folded his arms to pillow his head. They were hanging down by the sides of his chair.

She stood at the door deliberating on whether to wake him and move him to the couch, or to let him stay where he was.

Better to let sleeping dogs lie, she thought. She turned to go, then thought of Chi-Chi finding him slouched over the desk. She’d better wake him. If he was tired enough to conk out in his chair, he would probably go right back to sleep.

He must hate having to miss the preparations for the students’

performance. It was obvious that rehearsal was where he was most vital. He seemed so inconsequential in the rest of his life. How awful to have your career cut short by an accident. Achilles tendons were as debilitating for dancers as they were for their namesake.

Knees and ankles could be repaired, but the Achilles was never quite the same, even after surgery. It was heartbreaking. No wonder he needed Chi-Chi’s tender love.

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Lindy stepped inside, careful not to let the door slam behind her.

She moved quietly toward the desk and touched Robert’s shoulder.

“Robert,” she whispered.

No response. The man was dead to the world. “Robert.” She gave him a little shake. Nothing.

“Robert, wake up,” she said more loudly. A frisson of panic seized her, the same irrational fear that gripped a mother gazing at her sleeping baby, holding her breath until the child began to stir.

Robert didn’t stir. She grabbed both his shoulders. His head lolled on the desk.

“Robert.” This time she shouted his name.

She pulled him up and pushed him against the back of the chair, knocking over the nearly empty glass of Chi-Chi’s power drink. The chair rolled away and his head fell back.

Then she saw the bottle of pills on the desk. He had been lying on it.

This time she let the screen door slam. She raced up the path. Two policeman were going in to the Loie Fuller studio. She slowed to a walk until they were out of sight. She wouldn’t inform them now; they couldn’t even search for a lost boy properly. She had to find Dr.

Addison. She raced ahead, turned right down Two Rocks Way, and burst into the infirmary without knocking.

No one was there.

She spun around as if she could conjure up the doctor. Knocked on the door to the examining room, then opened it without waiting for a response. Dark except for the emergency light on the wall.

Dining hall. Or should she get the police? No. Grappel would interpret things in the worst light. She took the graveled path at a full run almost tripping as her feet lagged behind her body.

Two people were sitting on the bench across from the statue of Mercury. Stu and Dr. Addison. Their laughter registered in her brain; then the change of their expressions as she hurtled toward them.

“Robert.” The name exploded out of her searing lungs. She grabbed Dr. Addison by the arm. “Pills. Bungalow.”

A split second of comprehension and Adele was headed toward the infirmary. Stu pushed himself off the bench. “We’ll wait for her at the bungalow.”

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Taking her by the elbow, he hurried her back down the path, moving at a speed that didn’t seem possible for a man dependent on a cane.

She rushed ahead of him and into the room. And stopped.

Robert still sat in the chair. But the chair was facing the computer, not the desk. Lindy walked slowly toward him. Could she have hit the chair in her panic to get the doctor? Could it have turned around and stopped exactly in front of the computer screen? Maybe Robert had roused long enough to move it himself?

“Robert.” She commanded him to get up.

But Robert didn’t move.

The screen door slammed and Dr. Addison was kneeling by the sleeping man. She checked his pulse, lifted his eyelids, put her ear to his nose with a rapidity that left Lindy dazed.

“Where are the pills?”

Lindy pointed to the desk. She was afraid she might cry.

Dr. Addison snatched the bottle up and rolled it in her hands.

“Benadryl. Empty. It must have been the last of an old bottle. I just refilled his prescription last week.”

She pulled a stethoscope from her bag and ripped open the front of Robert’s shirt. Buttons went flying.

“He’s alive?” Stu had drained of color down to his lips.

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” He lifted a trembling hand to his eyes and rubbed.

“Should I get the police?” asked Lindy.

“No,” said Adele. It was an answer that brooked no argument.

Lindy swallowed.

“I need to get him back to the infirmary—quickly. I don’t understand what could be causing this reaction.” She looked at Lindy with an intensity that was frightening. “Without informing the police until I know what has happened. Imagine what Grappel will make of this.”

“I’ll get someone to carry him.” Lindy ran out the door. She slowed to a walk as she passed the Fuller studio, then raced on again.

Ahead of her someone was walking toward the theater. Rebo. Damn.

But he would be able to carry Robert to the infirmary without help.

“Rebo,” she yelled.

He looked up and started to walk away.

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“I need your help!”

He kept walking.

“Now!” It was a high-pitched scream. He turned around and reached her with the speed of a lean animal.

“It’s Robert,” she said already running back to the bungalow. She heard Rebo’s steps behind her.

Robert was lying on the floor between the computer console and the desk. Dr. Addison bent over him. The chair had been pushed out of the way. Dr. Addison lifted her chin at the newcomer. Effortlessly, Rebo scooped Robert up and carried him out, already running. The others followed. Rebo turned immediately to the right.

“The infirmary is that way,” yelled Lindy pointing down Two Rocks Way.

“Shortcut,” he said. The others followed behind him, through trees and brush. Once Stu tripped on a rock that jutted up from the ground.

Lindy grabbed his arm as he staggered and propelled him onward.

By the time she and Stu arrived at the infirmary, Dr. Addison was in the examination room with Robert. Rebo sat on the edge of her desk.

Lindy looked at him expectantly, momentarily forgetting their fight.

“She said not to disturb her.” He was staring at his sandals.

“Thanks.”

A slight shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t look up. He wasn’t going to let her off easy. But he had come through when she needed him.

“We should inform Chi-Chi,” said Stu. He was still catching his breath, and the sentence came out in a rush of air.

“I’ll go,” said Rebo and pushed himself away from the desk.

“Don’t alarm her.”

Rebo shot Stu a caustic look and let the door slam behind him.

Neither Stu nor Lindy spoke when he had gone. Stu eased himself into the chair by the desk. Lindy paced back and forth across the floor, stopping to peer out the door on each turn.

In a few minutes, she saw Rebo and Chi-Chi hurrying toward them.

Chi-Chi wore a white chef’s apron over her jeans and blouse. It hung almost to her ankles.

She burst into the room and headed for the examination room door.

Stu stopped her. “Adele is examining him. She’ll let us know how he is as soon as she can.”

“What happened?” She looked at Stu, then turned to Lindy. “What happened?” she repeated.

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“Chi-Chi, my dear,” said Stu . His voice was quiet and controlled.

“It seems that Robert . . .”

Chi-Chi just shook her head, continuously, mechanically, as Stu told her about Lindy finding Robert passed out at his desk, apparently of a drug overdose.

Lindy frowned. They didn’t know that he had overdosed. It might just be a reaction to his medication; she had seen that happen before. She started to say so, but a look from Stu stopped her before she could utter a word.

Had Dr. Addison said something to him while she had been looking for help? The back of her neck began to tingle. Good God. The implications would be—what? That Robert couldn’t cope with the strain of being questioned by the police, or by the events at camp, or Grappel’s insinuations? The tingling moved to her stomach. Her throat felt dry. Or could those insinuations be closer to the truth than anyone wanted to admit? Surely, not.

Lindy glanced at Chi-Chi who sat perfectly still in the straight-back chair that Stu had pulled close to his. She admired her selfcontrol.

Instead of crying, wringing her hands, or pacing as Lindy had been doing minutes before, Chi-Chi sat calmly waiting. Marshaling her strength? wondered Lindy. It reminded her of Biddy. Two strong women. In control. Self-reliant. Or were they? Maybe, their sense of self-preservation maintained the facade of strength, a kind of emotional camouflage.

Footsteps sounded on the wood of the porch outside. Lindy sprang toward the door to turn the person away. Byron Grapple’s simian outline loomed at her from behind the screen.

Unconsciously, Lindy looked at Stu.

Byron opened the screen door. “Chi-Chi.”

It was all he said. He moved across the office and stopped at the examination room door. “He in there?”

“Yes, he is, Sheriff,” Stu said firmly. “Dr. Addison is with him, and I’m certain that she would appreciate it if you would wait here with the rest of us.”

Grappel’s lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. Lindy fought the urge to slap him. Instead, she stepped toward Chi-Chi and put a protective arm around her.

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“Sick, huh?” Byron Grappel pierced each of them with a skeptical eye. “So sick that he had to be carried to the infirmary like a baby.” He ended this statement with a disgusted look at Chi-Chi. Lindy felt Chi-Chi’s shoulder tense beneath her hand, and she tightened her grasp, warning her not to take the bait.

She was thinking furiously. Could they avoid talking to him until Adele emerged from the examination room? Maybe Adele would be able to explain what had happened. Say that he had reacted to the Benadryl. That it had been a mistake, and not what it appeared on the surface—that Robert had taken an overdose of some unknown drug.

They had left everything in the bungalow, except the bottle of pills.

Lindy had seen Adele slip it into her pocket. It was a natural thing to do—she would want to refer to the dosage written on the label.

The silence in the room vibrated with tension. “I’ve had the bungalow secured,” said Grappel. “Maybe I’d just better have a look around while we’re waiting for the doc to do her thing.” No one moved until the door had closed behind him.

“I’ll be right back,” Lindy said quietly.

Stu glanced at Lindy. “We’ll be outside, Chi-Chi. Let us know the minute Adele comes out.”

Chi-Chi only nodded. She had no energy for them. She was willing her husband to live. Lindy felt the power of her will. It pulsated from her. Lindy gave her shoulder another squeeze, and Stu followed her to the porch.

“What should we do?” asked Lindy quietly enough so the sound wouldn’t carry back into the infirmary.

“Wait and see, I suppose.”

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Lindy sucked on the inside of her cheeks. Her mouth was dry. “I’m taking a walk,” she said at last.

“I’ll come with you.”

Lindy nodded and began to walk down the path to the bungalow.

She passed the spot of torn branches and trampled plants that marked their emergence from the shortcut. “This way.”

Stu shook his head. “Once was enough for me. I’ll take the path and meet you there.”

Of course he knew where she was going, but she was glad that he was taking the long way. It would give her a chance to do some snooping. She set off through the trees.

A uniformed man was standing outside the bungalow when she came out of the woods. She wondered if the sheriff was already inside.

As soon as the thought came to her, she saw Grappel walking up the path. She ducked back into the trees.

Grappel stepped onto the porch, then turned around and looked straight in her direction.

“You can come out now,” he called in a low drawl.

Great sleuth, Graham, she thought with disgust. She stepped out into the clearing.

“Guess you wanna to take a look around.” God, the man was ugly.

Or maybe it was just the permanent sneer that made him seem so.

“Might as well come on in.”

Grappel tipped his head and motioned toward the door, a yokel mimicking the gallantry of the elite.

Lindy’s eyes widened. She knew from experience that civilians weren’t allowed in a secured area. She hurried forward before Grappel changed his mind. The other policeman followed her inside.

Her stomach rumbled as she took in the living room, still dark but for the light from the lamp and computer screen.

Grappel stopped in front of the computer. A green glow outlined the bulky muscles of his shoulders and arms.

“Well, what do we have here?” He sounded pleased.

Lindy felt her whole body go hot. Little prickling pin points rushed across her skin. She took a step forward.

He motioned the policeman over. “Take a look at this, White, and then go get the Polaroid.”

Grappel moved aside to let the policeman look at the screen.

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“Jeez,” he said. “I’ll get the camera.” He passed Lindy on his way to the door.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered.

“What?” asked Grappel.