Mrs. Wagner bit her lip, thinking. “Not that I saw, but she could’ve taken something at work.”
“Where did she work?”
“Here in town at Langley’s Dress Shop on Main Street.”
Zoe plucked a pen from the cup on Paulette’s desk and scribbled the store’s name on a notepad next to the phone. She looked at Mrs. Wagner, judging how open she might be to questions about her daughter’s death. The police weren’t investigating it. Someone needed to find answers. “You mentioned the other night that Gina wasn’t feeling well.”
“That’s correct. Monday evening, she came home from work and said she might be coming down with something. I told her to get some rest while I finished fixing supper. She went into her room and closed the door. I thought she was napping.” Mrs. Wagner’s voice grew thin and trailed off, punctuated with a sob.
Zoe looked around, spotted the box of tissues on a table a few feet away, and leaned over to grab it and place them in front of Gina’s mother. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” Mrs. Wagner plucked a couple of tissues and dabbed her nose and eyes. “It’s okay. I want to know why Gina…why she’s gone.”
“You’re okay with answering a few questions?”
“Yes. Please. Ask.”
Zoe’s mind raced through the possibilities. “Had she been sick prior to Monday?”
“No. In fact, we’d been joking last week how we’d both made it this far through the winter without so much as a cold. When she came home that evening, I thought she must have caught the flu that’s going around.” Mrs. Wagner looked at Zoe, eyes imploring. “Could that be it? I know people sometimes die from the flu.”
But not usually otherwise healthy people. The flu. Carbon monoxide poisoning mimicked the flu, but there had been none of the signs. No cherry lips or cheeks. And her lungs had been clear. “You said you’ve been fine?”
“Yes. Not a sniffle.”
“Do you think it’d be okay if I talked to her coworkers?”
“Please. I’m sure they’d be glad to help any way they can.”
The phone on the desk rang. Zoe looked at it and the blinking light next to “line one.” Should she pick up? But the ringing cut off and the light stayed on. Paulette had answered from another extension. Bringing her focus back to Mrs. Wagner, Zoe asked, “Did Gina have any history of illness? Any past problems with her health?”
“You mean, like cancer?”
There had been no surgical scars, no sign of damage to any of the internal organs. Zoe shrugged. “Anything.”
“No. Not since she was a kid. She’d had all the usual childhood bugs. A series of ear infections.” Mrs. Wagner’s forehead furrowed in thought. “Other than an occasional cold, as an adult, she’s been healthy. She takes care of herself.” Mrs. Wagner winced. “Took care of herself. Her kids. And her father and me. She always made sure I took my meds and drank enough water.”
“What meds are you on?”
“Something for high blood pressure—”
Before Gina’s mother could say more, Paulette appeared in the doorway, her face damp with tears. Zoe leapt to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
Paulette glanced at Mrs. Wagner. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She brought her gaze back to Zoe, obviously struggling to hold it together. And failing. “The hospital just called. Franklin went into cardiac arrest again. He died five minutes ago.”
Eleven
Pete concluded his retelling of the story of finding Elizabeth Landis’ body. Graley studied her notes in silence, thumbing back and forth between the ones she’d just taken and earlier pages.
After several minutes, she asked, “You didn’t mention—was there any sign of the car being broken into?”
“None.” A detail that hadn’t helped Dustin’s case.
Graley tapped her lips with her pen. “DLK never damaged any of the cars either.”
“Really?” Pete hadn’t read that in any of the news stories. “Any idea how he gained entry?”
Graley looked at him. “I plan to ask him when I make the arrest.”
Pete’s phone rang. He ignored it, knowing Nancy would pick up the call.
“How much do you have on this guy?” he asked the special agent.
The hint of an irritated scowl flickered across her lips. “Not as much as I’d like.”
“But what do you have?”
Graley closed her notebook and appeared to ponder how much, if anything, to share.
“Come on, Graley. The days of law enforcement agencies being stingy about sharing have gone the way of the dinosaur. I told you what I know. You have access to our evidence. Now it’s your turn.”
She thought about it and opened her notebook again.
Before Graley could say anything, Nancy appeared in the doorway. Her expression told Pete something wasn’t right.
“Zoe’s on the phone.”
He snatched up the handset. “Zoe?”
Her shuddering breath reached him ahead of her words. “Franklin died.”
“What?” Pete slumped back in his chair, stunned. “What happened?”
“Cardiac arrest.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I just found out. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
“I thought he was stable.” Pete noticed Nancy had vanished from the doorway.
“I thought so too.”
Pete checked his watch. Not quite noon. “Are you all right?”
“Not in the least.” She punctuated the sentence with a humorless laugh.
He met Graley’s impatient gaze. The seed of an idea sprouted. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I can,” he told Zoe.
“It’s not really your jurisdiction.”
Thoughts bounced inside his head like a band of wild monkeys. He only verbalized one. “It might be.”
He hung up. To Graley, he said, “Our county coroner died.”
Her annoyed expression softened. Minimally. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Pete rubbed his chin. “Coroner Marshall was supposed to testify in the Landis retrial. I’d intended to talk to him about it this afternoon.”
“Did anything questionable about the woman’s COD come up in the autopsy?”
“No. It was straightforward. Single gunshot to the head.”
“Then his death shouldn’t affect the retrial.”
Pete looked at Graley. Did she have any idea how callous she sounded? “Maybe not. But Franklin Marshall never
