Getaway Death, page 7
Olivia waited, twisting her ankles under the table.
“According to the coroner down the hill, Marla Osbourne died of a drop in heart rate, brought on by anaphylactic shock. They found an unusual amount of CBD oil in her blood. Did she have allergies to any plants that you knew of?”
“CBD oil?”
Officer Jets closed the screen on her tablet. She leaned into both folded arms, stretching herself closer to Olivia. “That’s right. CBD stands for cannabidiol. It’s like marijuana without the THC. Helps people with all kinds of problems. On the one hand, CBD is very easy to get. But on the other hand? No one has tested the long-term effects. Now, how do you suppose your friend overdosed on CBD?”
Olivia stared at Jets. “Marla and I did some weed back in the day. You know, high-school-girl kind of experiments. I’m pretty certain Marla would just smoke the weed if she wanted to, instead of taking that—what is it? CBD oil?”
“Maybe an allergic reaction slowed her heart? That’s the mystery and where our investigation will lead us. We need to answer how she came to have the oil and also why—” Jets pressed her hand to her forehead as her voice became more accusatory.
Olivia stopped listening, pushing away the implication that Marla’s death was her fault. Instead she remembered how she had met Marla on the bus going to high school. One day Marla had invited her to spend the night, and that was when their friendship became close.
Olivia returned to the uncomfortable conversation with Jets. “Like I said, we did smoke weed a couple of times. She didn’t have any other medical problems except for … I think she had an allergy to beestings.” Olivia closed her eyes to bring up an image of Marla when she was eighteen. A beautiful young blond woman, tall and thin. Two years older and much more sophisticated than Olivia.
Her eyes popped open. “She wore one of those bracelets. You know the kind? It says what you are allergic to, in case someone finds you and you need help. She showed me her bracelet once. She was allergic to beestings. I do remember that.”
Officer Jets kept typing intently on her tablet with her index fingers.
“Okay. That’s helpful,” admitted the officer. “Doc has her medical records. We can check with him. We can also look through her personal belongings for the bracelet. She didn’t have it on when she died.”
Olivia gripped the table edge with both hands. She wanted to bolt from the conversation. The confusing details and Jets’ intense glare frightened her. “I keep getting a cramp in my foot since the accident.” She stood to stretch, eying the door across the room with longing.
As Olivia considered the option of running away, Michael popped his head out from the kitchen. He held three mugs by their handles in one hand and a coffeepot in the other. “Time for a drink, ladies?” he asked.
“Bring the coffee, but I need to talk to Olivia alone for a bit longer. We’ll let you know when to come back.” Officer Jets did not look up from her notes.
Mike’s jaw tightened. He placed the coffeepot between them, along with three empty mugs. “Okay then. I know when I’m not wanted.” He poured coffee before saying, “I’ll check on the mayor. By the way, sorry to interrupt again, but Olivia? I’d like to take another look at your car, just to make sure it’s safe to drive. Would you mind?”
Olivia hesitated. Michael might want to take her car back to the garage, and then she’d be stuck in Lily Rock. His interest in her car seemed unnecessary since Brad had given it a clean bill of health. But then, everything Michael did felt overly protective. Just when she thought she’d ditched him, he showed up unexpectedly, like when she had found the dead body. Then the letter discovery—that had come from Michael.
Olivia looked him over. His flannel shirttail hung out of snug-fitting jeans, while his sheepish grin hid something he was not talking about. I’ve fallen for that guy before—the one who has so much potential, who needs me to take care of him. Like Don, only less famous.
She starred at him a minute longer. Maybe I’m over thinking. Not everyone is like Don.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the car keys. “Have at it,” she told him with an easy underhanded toss. He grabbed the keys midair, smiling back at her.
“Okay then. Thanks for trusting me.” With the last remark, Michael left the two women to continue their conversation.
Still standing in the middle of the great room, Olivia got to the point with Jets. “Is this a fact-finding mission, or are you interrogating me?”
Instead of smiling as Olivia hoped she would, Jets’ elbows popped up on the table as she cradled her chin in her palms. “I am the one asking questions here, and I am trying to figure out how you got into the middle of this murder.”
“I have no idea how I got here. I was on a getaway vacation, just coming to visit an old friend,” Olivia said, unable to hide her growing irritation. “Marla thought Lily Rock would help me get over my recent breakup. I planned to drop in for a couple of days and then leave Sunday afternoon.”
“Take it easy. I’m not saying I don’t believe every word. I have one more question, okay? Do you have any idea what that envelope in your back pocket is about?” The officer’s cell phone lit up. She clicked the red icon to silence the ringtone.
“How did you know about the envelope?” Olivia’s hands grew moist as she fumbled with the mug of coffee in front of her. She took a sip to steady herself.
Running the flat of her hand across the table, Officer Jets took her time before standing. “I can’t force you to read me the contents of that envelope, but I do find it suspicious. Why would Marla write you a letter if she was planning on seeing you face to face? It just seems odd to me.”
Olivia nodded. “I know. It seems odd to me too. I do have the envelope. But first, how did you know about it?”
Jets ignored the question. “I think I understand why you may not want to talk about what your friend wrote to you before her death. Even if you’ve already read the contents, you may not have had time to digest the information. I want to warn you—you may want to consult an attorney.”
Olivia felt her gut twist. “I still don’t understand why you would think I had anything to do with Marla’s death. I was on the other side of the hill, sitting in a ditch with my head bleeding when it happened.”
“Were you? Maybe you had a friend who was in on this with you. We know you pitched that car over the only bluff without a serious drop. The only bluff with a ledge that would break the fall. You could have done some research. Maybe you and an accomplice drove the hill before finding just the right place to stage the supposed accident. Maybe you planned the whole thing to cover up killing Marla.”
Olivia wanted to scream. She had traveled from victim to murderer in less than twenty-four hours. I’ve gotta get out of Lily Rock. This is a crazy place.
Jets’s cell phone lit up again. This time she answered. “Jets speaking.”
Her ear pressed into the plastic case. “Are you okay?”
While Jets continued to speak in soft tones, Olivia walked to the front window. No car.
Mayor Maguire stood outside the window, looking in. His sad eyes traveled around her face, searching for a clue.
Olivia opened the door and the dog happily trotted in.
“Have you seen my car?” she asked him.
He pawed gently at her leg. She bent at the waist to scratch his ear. Breathing into his neck, she inhaled the scent of dog.
“It’s Mike,” explained Jets from across the room. “He’s found some problem with your car. The brakes. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible.”
Olivia felt her head rush. “Did he get into an accident?”
“He is just fine. He’s returning your car to Brad. He said he’d meet you here in twenty minutes. Can you wait for him? I have to go now.” Jets closed her tablet.
Olivia glanced around the room. The custom sectional in front of the fireplace looked inviting. “I’ll hang out with the mayor while I wait. I’ll take him to get some fresh air first.”
“Don’t dig into the crime scene,” warned Officer Jets, and she headed toward the door. “We’ve got that taped off. Just stay away for your own good!”
After the officer disappeared down the driveway, Olivia called to the dog. “Come on, M&M. You heard the cop. Don’t play with the crime scene, you old dog.” After mocking the warning from Officer Janis Jets, Olivia slammed the front door behind her.
The dog circled Olivia, stopping to sit on her left-hand side behind her knee. He’d done the same when he’d led her to the dead body the day before.
“Let’s go.” Walking past the front of the house, dog and human turned the corner together. Breathing deeply, they moved toward the woods. When Olivia reached the entrance of the herb garden, she unlatched the gate, gesturing for the dog to go first.
Mayor Maguire rushed past. He bounded to the farthest corner of the garden, stopping to lift his leg. Olivia smiled. “Good doggy.”
The last time she’d walked through the garden, she’d been in a hurry. This time, with Mayor Maguire so occupied, she stopped to inspect the plants. Herbs with carefully written labels filled the raised beds.
Olivia bent over the first to take a branch in her fingers. She crushed the familiar leaf, raising her fingers to her nostrils. This must be lavender. Olivia moved along to each plant, sniffing her way through the herbal bouquet.
To clear her senses from the herbal smells she stopped to admire the carefully placed rocks. Each one separated more vigorous growers from their less inclined counterparts. Olivia looked up, her eyes drifting to the top of the closest pine. A crow bounced on a branch overhead. Raising her glance even higher, she sighed. The giant sequoia, where she had found Marla’s body, stood unfazed by the previous events.
Opening the back gate, Olivia called, “Let’s go, M&M.” The crow cawed overhead.
Mayor Maguire trotted to Olivia’s side, sitting at her knee again. She moved away for him to pass. He waited for her to move first.
Olivia noticed the yellow police tape that surrounded the area where Marla’s body was found. Tears formed in Olivia’s eyes. The area held emotion for her, the memory of her friend. No matter how challenging Marla had been, she didn’t deserve to be killed and left on the ground, under a tree, where no one could see her. She didn’t deserve to be hidden away, taken from her own life.
Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she walked around the tape to look at the scrambled earth, disrupted by the people who’d taken charge of the body.
Not hampered by the official rules, Mayor Maguire slid under the tape, his tail waving for Olivia to follow. He stopped to sniff the dirt more closely. “Don’t do that!” Olivia warned. “No one is allowed, even if you are the mayor.”
The dog tilted his chin up toward the sun, which peeked between the trees. Shadows played against his curly brown fur. He sniffed the ground and then continued his journey away from the police tape, moving deeper into the woods.
Remembering the last time she’d followed Mayor Maguire, Olivia stood her ground. “I am not going after you,” she warned the dog. His tail disappeared behind a section of ferns.
“M&M. I mean it. Don’t go any farther. Come back.”
No sight of his curly brown head.
Olivia glanced backward at the place where she’d found the body the day before. She didn’t want to follow the dog, yet she worried. Still no sight of Mayor Maguire.
Instead of walking away, Olivia inched slowly forward to the place where she’d seen the dog disappear. “Mayor Maguire,” she called in her most winsome voice. “Where are you?”
Ignoring her initial apprehension, Olivia decided to play along with M&M. Is that you barking? After walking briskly toward the sound, she found him. He bent over a spot under a nearby mesquite bush in the brown earth.
“Nice doggy.” She looked more closely at the ground where he stared. As she bent over she inched her fingers around his collar, grasping him firmly to her side.
“It’s just a pen, you silly mutt. I suppose you want it to sign important documents back at the office?” Holding the pen in her open hand, she squinted in the sun. The dog leaned over to sniff for himself.
Examining it more closely, Olivia read a list of written directions on the side of the plastic case. Place the orange tip against the middle of the outer thigh. Swing and push the auto-injector firmly into the thigh until it clicks. Hold firmly in place for 3 seconds—count slowly.
Her eyes widened. This isn’t a pen for writing. This is a pen for injecting.
Mayor Maguire stopped sniffing her open palm. He looked up into her eyes, his tail wagging. She patted the top of his head.
Unsure whether to take the pen with her or leave it where she found it, Olivia stared at the dog as if asking for advice. His tail stopped wagging.
“You lead me to trouble, but no help after that?”
Closing her fingers around the pen, she slid it into her back pocket, next to the envelope from Marla. I’d better put this in a plastic bag for evidence, she thought. Of course, my fingerprints will be the most obvious.
At that instant Olivia knew what she had to do next. “I’m going to find out who killed Marla, M&M, if it’s the last thing I do!”
The dog’s tail quivered, then wagged again as his tongue slipped past his smiling jowls. He leaned toward Olivia, once again moving behind her to sit at her knee.
“Let’s go.” Dog and woman walked toward the house, a new determination in their step.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Overheard in Lily Rock
“Her forty-two-year-old best friend is living in her guest house right now.”
“Why is he living in her guest house?”
“He’s trying to pay off his Tesla.”
Olivia stopped to catch her breath before going inside. Transfixed by the light dancing off the windows of Marla’s new home, she stood in place. Breathe deeply, she reminded herself.
Mayor Maguire sat by her side, his ears slightly forward.
Reaching into her back pocket to secure the envelope and the EpiPen, she explained to the dog, “If I am playing detective, I’d better start thinking ahead. But where do I begin?” Olivia gazed down at the dog. “It’s your fault I got into this situation in the first place. I might have gone home thinking I’d gotten the date wrong. You were the one who took me to Marla’s body.”
Just for a moment, Olivia felt tempted to change her mind about staying.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still on the job. You can relax,” she assured the dog.
Olivia pulled the EpiPen out of her back pocket. Clearly the device had not been activated. The plastic catch remained intact. Now my fingerprints are all over this thing.
She shoved it back into her pocket, underneath the letter. If Jets finds the pen she’ll have it tested in a lab, and this may be just what she needs to arrest me on suspicion of murder.
Looking down for Mayor Maguire, she saw that he’d disappeared yet again.
The hum of a vacuum roared from somewhere in the house as she walked in the front door. Looking to the left in the entryway, Olivia saw her purse hanging on a wall hook. Someone had moved it from the table. Maybe Marla’s housekeeper?
A cursory inspection in her bag revealed the one hundred dollars in twenties she carried around for emergencies. Tucking the EpiPen into the side pocket of her purse, Olivia zipped it shut.
Since Michael had not given her a tour of the entire first floor, she walked around slowly, taking in Marla’s home one glance after another. The great room opened to a floor-to-ceiling stone wood burning fireplace. The scent of smoke filled her nostrils.
There was smoke coming from the chimney, she recalled. Who lit that fire? Was it Marla or maybe a guest? Did the killer linger in the house waiting for someone to discover the body, only to run away when the police arrived? Or did the killer come upon me and pretend to help out, infusing himself into the crime scene as an observer? Olivia shuddered.
The vacuum sputtered.
Setting aside her thoughts, she moved around chairs and small tables tucked behind several massive support posts. Alongside the windows facing the forest, Olivia stopped to admire the expansive deck reaching into the trees.
Looking on the nearest wall, she touched first one knothole, then another. On the third try her finger sank into the paneling as the entire bank of windows slid up like a garage door. Now the scent of fresh pine filled the interior.
Leaving the windows open, Olivia turned to face the great room, admiring the oversized boulders placed in groupings throughout the indoors. Plants surrounded the boulders, covering and exposing the random surfaces. Nice touch, bringing the outdoors inside.
She saw solar blinds, operated with carefully disguised wall remotes barely visible from where she stood.
Olivia remembered looking in from the outside the day before. She turned toward the hallway. That must be the master suite, she concluded. The rumble of the vacuum started up again.
Olivia pushed in the door of the master suite. She stared at a tall woman with broad shoulders who effortlessly pushed the vacuum across the thick area rug. Her dark-black hair, swept back into a ponytail, exposed her ears, which held white earbuds.
Olivia remained still. She waited for the vacuum to switch off.
“Hello?”
Despite her precautions, the startled worker swung to face her, ripping the earbuds out with both hands. “Who are you?” The woman’s deep voice surprised Olivia.
“I’m Olivia Greer. Marla’s house guest.”
The woman looked older than Olivia had first thought. Maybe mid-forties but in good shape. Her shirt exposed strong forearms, the muscles of which rippled as they pulled the vacuum closer to turn off the switch.
“I’m Cayenne. Cayenne Carson. I am Miss Osbourne’s housekeeper.”
“Marla invited me to spend the weekend.”
“So you’re the one who found her dead body?”
