Weapons of Mass Distraction (28 page)

“No! You’re kidding!” Lily wailed, taking the paper from me and skimming it. “That’s thirty miles away. Look at all the designer dresses they stole!”

“Maybe this is the last one,” I suggested, “Maybe the thieves have enough dresses now.”

“What do they need with that many dresses anyway? Do you think it’s one of those illegal bridal rings?”

Sometimes Lily had great ideas, sometimes they made me say, “Huh?” This was definitely a “Huh?” moment. “Huh?” I said.

“Maybe they need the dresses for fake brides to have sham weddings to get visas?”

“I don’t think they’d go so far as to let the sham brides choose their sham dresses.”

“I totally would,” decided Lily. “I’d keep it and sell it afterwards. I’d insist on a honeymoon, too, just so it looked really real. We could go together!”

“You’ve been thinking about this sham wedding a lot.”

“Not much else to do when you’re sitting in a car for hours. I passed a lot of Candy Crush levels, too, but now I’m out of lives.”

“Wait… what did you say about selling the dress? After?”

“I’d sell it. There’s good money to be made from a high-end wedding dress. Between the auction websites and the seconds websites, you can almost make your money back.”

My original suspicion was that the dresses were stolen and the re-sale value confirmed that, but the volume of thefts puzzled me. “But I don’t think you could sell that many dresses without arousing suspicion. We’re talking three to four hundred dresses missing, and they have to take up a lot of space.”

“Where else could they go?”

That had me stumped. I couldn’t see the thieves setting up a store, and it would be no easy feat to fence that many dresses from a trunk. For a start, barely ten dresses can fit in the average trunk, and that’s providing they weren’t puffy meringues. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I have to run. Lorena Vasquez’s daughter wants to meet me at her house and I don’t want to be late. Call me if there’s any news?”

“Don’t hold your breath. Hey, give me the newspaper. Maybe I’ll call the store that just got burglarized and see if I can get any clues,” said Lily, thrusting her shoulders back with newfound conviction that she could save the day. She gave her hair a sexy swish as she grabbed her cell phone and spread the paper over the steering wheel. “I bet I can sweet talk some information out of them! Just because Perfect Brides hasn't been burglarized, doesn't mean it won't. We are still on this case!”

I hugged Lily, told her that was a great idea, bid her goodbye and hotfooted it to my VW, pointing toward the direction of Lorena’s house. I wasn’t looking forward to the meeting. For one, I hadn’t been back to the house since finding Lorena, and the idea of being there made me extremely uncomfortable. It wasn’t because someone died there; that kind of thing didn’t creep me out. It was because Lorena died there, violently, and I liked her. I knew that whatever I felt, her daughter had to feel a hundred times worse, and she deserved to know what was going on, even that her mother’s death might be part of a larger crime. I tried to imagine going to my family home, knowing my mother was no longer there, and my throat caught. By the time I pulled up outside the house, my sniveling subsided and I got myself under control.

Lorena’s daughter needed the truth, and yes, my sympathy, but she didn’t need me making things any worse for her. I gave myself a little shakedown, checked to see my mascara didn’t run, and climbed out, turning to face Lorena’s home, a home that was now someone else’s.

The door opened just as I raised my hand to knock. The woman framed in the doorway was the image of Lorena’s younger self. She had the same big eyes and glossy hair, and I had no problem immediately identifying her as Marnie. She had clearly been waiting for me, but somehow I doubted it was eagerly. All the same, I admired her courage as she shook my hand and introduced herself, before inviting me in. I took a forced breath and stepped over the threshold.

“Can I get you a drink?” the young woman asked, politely and pleasantly, almost like I just stopped by for a social visit. “There’s a shelf full of coconut water in the fridge that my mother kept stocked for after her daily runs, and I think there’s coffee too.”

After declining Marnie’s offer of a drink, I couldn’t conceive going into the kitchen, and was grateful when she suggested we sit on the couches for our talk.

“I was with my father when he had his heart attack and died. I’m sorry you had to find my mother like that,” said Marnie, indicating I should sit opposite her. The door to the kitchen was closed, I noticed, and nothing was moved in the living room, barring the plastic bottle of coconut water on the coffee table, which Marnie reached for, drinking straight from the neck. Except for a wilting plant on the bookcase, it was like time stopped still.

“I just wish I could have gotten there… here… earlier. I’m so sorry for your loss. I liked Lorena a lot,” I said, hoping she sensed the sincerity in my voice. Marnie nodded and gave me a weak smile, making me wish there was something I could do for her, something more practical. I hoped her uncle and friends were taking care of her and that she wasn’t alone.

“She mentioned you a few times. We talked every other day on the phone, you know. She liked you too. My mom was really impressed to have a friend who was a private investigator. She said she wished she had the guts to take a job like yours.”

“It takes more patience than guts.”

“I imagine it does.” Marnie clasped her hands together and fell silent.

“I don’t know how I can help you, Marnie, or what I can tell you, but I’ll try,” I told her. “You can ask me anything you want. If it's okay, I'd like to ask you a few questions too.”

“I only really want to know what happened. The police came to my apartment when they informed me of her… her…” Marnie took a deep breath, but couldn’t finish. “When I got here, I went to the police station with my uncle to find Detective Maddox and he told me what happened to my mother and said that you found her. He called you a friend of his and my uncle said you left a couple of messages. I guess I just wanted to hear it from you.”

“In my own words?” I asked. Marnie nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you and you can stop me any time and ask any questions you like. Okay?”

“Okay.”

So, I told her everything that happened from the phone call that morning to the very end, when I called 911. Marnie asked me to repeat some parts, and had a few questions, but mostly, she stayed quiet while I talked. It wasn’t easy reliving the experience, especially now that I could totally relate to a home intrusion. I tried to speak carefully and clearly without getting emotional. When I finished, Marnie was frowning, and she stared past me, although I didn’t think she was looking at anything. She appeared deep in thought.

“What was it my mother wanted to talk to you about?” she asked, finally looking at me again, the confusion still etched all over her face. Whatever Lorena wanted to talk about, even her daughter had no clue.

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say over the phone, but she said it was urgent.”

“Do you think it had to do with you being a PI?”

“Maybe. Do you think so?” I asked, hoping she might have some insight. Perhaps her mother mentioned something, however incongruous, that she could relate to me now.

Marnie shrugged and reached for the plastic bottle on the coffee table between us. She unscrewed the cap, took a long draw, and screwed it back on again, making sure to place the bottle on a coaster. I wondered if it was a habit Lorena instilled in her daughter, and if Marnie was struggling to make sense of things by sticking to habits and rituals if only to keep some sense of order in her shattered world. “I’m not sure. I think so. Something was bothering her for a while. Whenever I asked her what was wrong, she just shut me down. She wouldn’t talk about it. Told me to concentrate on college and that she would look after herself. Maybe she wanted your opinion.”

I nodded in agreement. That was plausible; even more so, given what I knew about Jim Schwarz and Karen Doyle. They had troubles too. There was only one way to find out. “Do you recall your mom ever mentioning a Jim Schwarz or Karen Doyle?”

“Oh, sure. From her old job at Simonstech. I think she still saw them from time to time. Karen was the one who recommended Fairmount Gym to my mom. Why?”

“They both died recently.”

Marnie’s hand flew to her mouth and she gasped. “Oh my gosh. Really?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“No,” she replied, sounding flustered, “but I only just got home and all I could think about is my mother. I’m sure my mother would have mentioned something like that… Wait, they both passed recently?”

“Yes,” I said simply, not wanting to tell her just how recently.

“Oh, that’s awful. I don’t know why you brought them up though. Does their passing have something to do with my mom?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m interested to see if there’s a connection with each other. Are you okay?” I asked, noticing Marnie leaning against the couch cushions, one hand rising to her heart. She coughed and blinked, then nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little under the weather, I guess. What were you saying?”

“Just that I was interested in Jim and Karen’s connection to your mom.”

“All I can tell you is, they all got on well as far as I knew, but after Mom left Simonstech, they didn’t see each other so much. It was right around the time that other lady disappeared. April? No, Avril. My mom was really upset about that.”

“Avril Sosa?”

“Yes, I think that was her name. I remember it was in the paper and I asked Mom about it, but she told me never to mention Avril’s name again, and to forget I saw the article. Don’t you think that was odd?”

I agreed it was and asked if Lorena said anything about Avril recently, but Marnie answered no. She was about to say something else when she leaned forwards and grabbed the bottle, her hands shaking as she all but wrenched the cap off. She glugged a few mouthfuls, her hand still trembling when she returned it to the coffee table, almost missing it altogether. She blinked rapidly and coughed again. Her skin suddenly took on the oddest pallor.

“Are you okay?” I reached forward and touched her hand when she didn’t respond. “Marnie?”

“I… I…” she choked. “Lexi, I…”

“Maybe this has been too much,” I suggested. “We can talk again another time. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s… I… oh, God, I think I’m gonna…” Marnie pushed against the sofa with her hands and wobbled to her feet, stumbling forwards. I leapt up and caught her as she stumbled again, her knees banging into the corner as she tried to avoid the table.

“You really don’t look well,” I said, but I don’t think she heard me. Her eyes were glassy and she’d paled considerably.

“Help… me…” Marnie whimpered. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her knees collapsed, and she sank to the floor, taking me with her as I held onto her arms. I called her name a few times, but she didn’t respond, so I wriggled out from where she’d fallen on me, and put her on her side, trying to remember my first aid training. Her airways were clear, and there was nothing to hurt herself on, so I stroked her hair and talked to her for a few moments, but she didn’t come around.

The longer the seconds ticked by, the more concerned I became that Marnie hadn’t simply fainted. When I saw the trickle of blood sliding over her lip, I was sure all was not well.

I dialed 911 and called an ambulance, telling them I had a suspected poisoning, and waited in terror for the EMTs to come.

~

“How is she?” I asked when the doctor, a short, black woman bearing a badge that read, Dr. Marcus, approached. Marnie Vasquez was treated quickly and efficiently in the ER before being transferred to the third floor to be observed on a twenty-four watch. Her stomach was pumped and I nearly threw up when I saw them inserting the tube. I figured Marnie was very sore, but oh so very lucky to be alive. It was a thought Solomon shared the moment he joined me, arriving just as the ER doctors finished working on her. We’d been waiting an hour to speak to someone, and my heart was beating a fast rhythm.

“She’s going to recover,” Dr. Marcus told me. “Your friend is very fortunate.”

“What happened? One minute, she seemed fine. The next, she collapsed.”

“We’ve taken blood for tests, but my theory is that she was poisoned.”

A cold wave ricocheted through me. I didn’t want my assumption to be true, but there it was in plain language, from a medical professional. That worried me.

The doctor nodded, a simple confirmation of my fear. “From the way the poison acted, I think she probably ingested it. Was she upset about anything? Could she have taken something deliberately?”

“No. Absolutely not.” I shook my head, and then again, when Solomon gave me a pointed look. “She was upset that her mother died recently, but she showed no intention of taking her own life. She wouldn’t have invited me over if she planned on doing that.”

“If it was accidental, your being there probably saved her. If you didn’t get her to the hospital when you did, the outcome wouldn’t have been positive. Do you know what she ingested? Could she have mixed products up accidentally?” Dr. Marcus continued, scrutinizing me as she did so.

“I don’t think so,” I said decisively. I might not have known Marnie long, but she didn’t give me any indication that she might hurt herself. She wanted answers. “She’s a smart girl. She wouldn’t have pulled the bleach out from under the sink and drunk it, thinking it was juice, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Solomon took my hand and I gently squeezed his fingers. I suspected he was telling me to cool it, so I did, though my breaths came in short, sharp rasps. I was angry, not at the doctor, but at whoever would have tried to hurt Marnie. I was also grateful for the sheer luck that I was there and managed to prevent her possible demise.

“No, of course not,” the doctor conceded. “Plus, whatever it was, it wasn’t bleach.”

“We’d like you to send a blood sample to MPD,” Solomon said, taking over. “And you should call Detective Maddox. He should be informed of this.”

“I already logged a call with the police and took a sample,” Dr. Marcus told us, which surprised me. It shouldn’t have, and when I thought about it, I was glad that the doctor had the foresight to take a blood sample.