subtle round motif to the pocket. Nell protested about the decoration but finally gave in. I don’t suppose you had those kind of problems over clothes with your boys.”
I said it was true, but I left out that I’d never interfered with their clothes choices, either.
“What do they want her dirty shirt for?”CeeCee asked.
There was no point in hiding the truth from CeeCee. “They probably want to check it for trace evidence to see if there is anything to connect Nell to Robyn.” I thought back to that morning in the waiting room and got a bad feeling as I remembered that Nell had taken the packet of sweetener out of her shirt pocket—a pocket with a small blue motif on it.
We went up the stairs and into the large room that served as both her living and bedroom. Thankfully, the cops had been neat and had not tossed the place. The bed was rumpled, but I guessed it had been left that way when Nell left. She was looking around and appeared uneasy. I could understand how she felt. Her privacy had been invaded. It was like having a stranger go through your purse.
“Maybe you’d rather stay in the house,” CeeCee offered. Nell accepted before the words were all out of her aunt’s mouth. She rushed ahead of us and said she’d get her stuff later.
CeeCee led me inside and we settled into her living room. The windows looked out at the tangle of trees and kept the room shadowy even though the sun was shining.
“What should we do?” CeeCee said.
I directed my gaze at Nell. “You might want to talk to Mason Fields. He’s an excellent lawyer and a nice —”
“No,” Nell said, vehemently shaking her head before I could finish. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I know how it looks. You hire a lawyer and people think you’re guilty and trying to hide something. I don’t need a lawyer.”
No matter what CeeCee and I said, Nell wouldn’t budge. I finally mentioned what Detective Heather had said about being confident that Nell was the guilty party.
“Oh, dear,” CeeCee said. “I had no idea it was that bad. It’s totally ridiculous. They should be out looking for other suspects. For the person who really killed that woman.”
I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but they needed to deal with the truth. “I think all of her efforts are just going to build a case against Nell.”
“But they can’t. I didn’t do anything. Aunt CeeCee, do something,” Nell wailed.
CeeCee turned to me. “Molly, you have to do something.”
“Well,” I said, “the one thing we can do—if they won’t look for other suspects, we can.” I looked to Nell. “You said anyone could have gotten into Robyn’s drawer where she kept the sweetener.” Nell started to nod, then her eyes widened and she almost smiled.
“Or the poison could have been added before she even got it. How could I have forgotten? Someone sent the box of sweetener to Robyn. I know because I was in her office when she was opening it. She seemed real happy about it and put the whole box in the drawer. I’m probably the only one who knows about it, though.”
“Did you have any idea who sent it?” I asked.
Nell shrugged. “Are you kidding? She barely talked to me. But there’s a way to find out. We log in every package that comes in and who it’s from.”
“Well, there’s the solution,” CeeCee said. “We just find out who sent her the sweetener and the cops will have their real killer.” She looked toward her niece and Nell looked toward me.
“I can’t call any of the other PAs and ask them to check. You saw how they were, Molly. They all think I’m guilty. You think anybody is going to try to help me. No way.” Now they were both looking at me.
“Maybe I can figure something out,” I said.
I had to walk back to my house and pick up the greenmobile and drive back to the bookstore. I did my best to make up for all the lost time. I updated Mrs. Shedd on the fake book signing, telling her about the scheduling board and that I’d met the person who was taking over for the dead woman. I thought it might make her feel a little better about me being gone.
“I’m glad you got something accomplished for the bookstore,” Mrs. Shedd said. “As far as I’m concerned, the business with the blogoir author is off my plate and on yours. Just remember our aim is to get something that says Shedd and Royal Books and More in the shot.”
Just before I left for the day, I went over to the event area and tried to picture where to put a sign. Through the window, I saw that the sky was my favorite translucent blue and still had a hint of light. It had been a trying day and I was glad to be finally going home.
I left the car in the driveway and crossed through my backyard. The orange blossoms were just about finished, but the air was still filled with their sweet scent. Floodlight illuminated the lawn, which thanks to the winter rain was a bright spring green. Pink and red carnation blossoms showed as bright spots in the flower beds. More hyacinths and daffodils had popped up from the bulbs I’d randomly spread around the previous years. The dogs flew out as soon as I opened the back door. Okay, the
I’d left the house in a hurry. Nell had just honked and I’d run out. I was surprised to find the coffee mug I’d left on the table was in the dishwasher. Someone had brought the mail in and set it on the kitchen table. I was pretty sure it must have been Barry, because his flannel shirt was hanging on the door handle. I checked on the shelving unit and it was definitely closer to being finished.
During my afternoon at the bookstore, I’d thought about the best way to deal with who had sent the sweetener to Robyn. I was sure the cops could do a more efficient job than I could, but I didn’t think Detective Heather would appreciate my suggestion. More than not appreciate it, I was pretty sure she’d ignore it. But if it came from someone else—
I picked up the phone and called Barry’s cell. Expecting to get his voice mail, I had my message all worked out. I was caught off guard when he answered and barely croaked out a hello.
“Babe,” Barry said with a lift in his voice when he realized it was me. “You found the brochures I left about a condo development in Simi Valley. Don’t you agree it would be perfect for us?”
He sounded a little disappointed when I said I hadn’t seen them yet, though as I was talking, I found them on the counter and promised to look them over. I told him about my morning at the studio and about Nell’s remembrance about the box of sweetener. “I was just thinking maybe you could tell Heather about it. Nell said they log everything in. Whoever sent it has to be the real killer.”
There was silence at Barry’s end for a moment and then a tired sigh. “Molly, I can’t suggest anything to Heather. I’m sure she’s already checking on who had access to the sweetener and where it came from.” He paused a moment. “Doesn’t it seem awfully convenient that Nell suddenly remembered that the sugar substitute was sent to the victim and that only she knows about it?”
“Barry, she’s CeeCee’s niece, and even though she barely crochets, she’s one of the Hookers. She’s not a murderer.”
I heard Barry breathe for a moment before he spoke, which is what he usually did when he thought I wasn’t going to want to hear what he had to say. As usual, he was right. “Murderers have families and hobbies. Just because you know someone, doesn’t mean they’re innocent.” Before I could protest, he continued. “I did hear it was confirmed the poison in the drink was cyanide and it was the cause of death.” He told me more than I wanted to know how cyanide worked and finished with, “It acts so fast. Once she drank the coffee, it was already too late.”
I tried to tell him that Heather was so sure Nell was guilty, she wasn’t checking anything else.
“Molly,” Barry said with a frustrated sound. “You know I can’t get mixed up in Heather’s case. Let’s talk about something else like that I’ll be finished soon and I was planning to stop by for a while.” His voice was heavy with suggestion. “We could look over those brochures together, among other things.” There was a short pause. “Should I pick up some Chinese?”
I wasn’t happy with his answer even if I understood. Just when I was going to agree to the Chinese food, someone started talking to him and abruptly he said he had to go. So much for any plans. I sat down at the kitchen table and glanced through the condo brochure. It showed off a nice-looking town house with a small yard along with listing all the amenities like the pool and clubhouse. I understood why he wanted us to start with a new place, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. In any case, there was lots of time to think about it. It wasn’t like he’d put a down payment on a place. I left the pamphlet on the table. I was sure if Barry hadn’t gotten off the phone so quickly, he would
