“You might have lost him!” I cleared my throat, giving myself a moment to calm down. “He started to say something about Katherine, and then you arrived and interrupted him.”
The detective nodded once. “Had you given him your number?”
“No, but he’s in computer science at the college.” I told Gifford what Cody told me about hacking into Katherine’s account.
“Okay. Good to know. I have to get over to the station. Thanks for alerting me about him. When did you say you were going back to Indiana?”
Had I said? “Tomorrow morning.”
“Have a wonderful last day of vacation in our lovely city.” He stressed the word vacation as he gave me a grim smile.
“I’ll try, thank you.” I watched him amble off, hands in pockets. A vacationer was the last thing I felt like, especially after seeing Cody’s nerves and his fear. His mention of his own sister in association with the word bad was even worse.
Chapter 47
I sat stunned in my car with the windows still open. It seemed like hours had passed since I parked here, but it had been only fifteen minutes. I squinted at the winter light. I sniffed the air smelling of pungent eucalyptus leaves and the sweet perfume of oranges. How could it be so sunny, so fragrant, so California, when darkness was the backdrop? Murder. Poison. Lies.
Cody had been about to tell me something—something really bad—about Katherine. He’d hacked into her reunion database to find me. He might have also dug into her personal e-mail and read an incriminating detail about Paul’s death. But incriminating who? Walter and his thugs, or maybe Sydelle? Or Zoe. Tommy. Katherine herself. I only hoped Cody would call me after Gifford finished with him so I could learn what he’d found.
Speaking of calls, I needed to phone Boathouse for Cody. I searched for the number and hit the phone icon. The manager didn’t sound very convinced, but I said I was Cody’s aunt visiting from back east and my nephew really was under the weather. I mustered a weak smile after I disconnected. Yeah, his very young aunt.
Now what should I do? I assumed Jason would learn what had gone down. Just in case, I shot him a quick text.
All’s well. Det. took Cody to station to talk.
He returned only a K. I sat behind the wheel, gazing out the window, thinking. Foot traffic had resumed on the sidewalk, now that the commotion the cops had caused was gone.
I guessed I could go back to my room and pack. I could take a last walk on the beach. I could shop for fresh tortillas, dried ancho chiles, and See’s peanut brittle—the best in the known universe—to take home. Maybe find a mission ornament for Abe’s parents’ Christmas tree and a surfing T-shirt for his son, Sean. What kind of souvenir should I bring Abe, besides the alpaca mittens? I could probably find him an artichoke cookbook at Chaucer’s Bookstore, or even a cookbook from Gilroy, Garlic Capital of the World, two hundred fifty miles north of here near the coast.
Before I had a chance to turn the key in the ignition, my phone dinged with another text.
This is Mel W. Meet me at library in ten ?
Whew. Much better than packing. And I’d have time for shopping later.
Yes, thx.
I saved Mel W Personal into my contacts list, locked the car, and set out for a five-minute walk. My Friday was looking up, if you can call learning about a poisoning an ascent.
She was waiting on a low white wall outside the fifteen-foot-high arched windows of the library when I arrived, swiping through something on her phone.
“Hi,” I said, sitting a few feet away on the same wall. “Thanks for contacting me.” A bottlebrush tree nearby dangled its poufy red brushes, and a calla lily boasted creamy white trumpet blooms curling around suggestive tangerine-colored protuberances. A tall white fountain burbled gently, but the sound didn’t calm my racing heart.
“Sure, Robbie. This conversation is strictly in the shade, you understand.” She waited for me to agree.
I nodded. “You said earlier you wouldn’t be able to tell me anything.”
“I’m aware of that. But I thought you deserved to know we detected methyl iodide in Etxgeberria’s body. I wouldn’t have known to look if you hadn’t alerted me to the possibility. It’s a neurotoxin and is a chemical so reliably carcinogenic it’s used to create cancer cells in laboratories.”
My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Here’s the list of effects.” She read off her phone. “Irritation to the eyes, skin, and respiratory system. Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ataxia.”
“Wait.” I held up a finger. “What’s ataxia?” I should know the meaning from doing crosswords but was having a sudden—and hopefully temporary—case of amnesia.
“Impaired balance or coordination. Shall I go on?” Mel asked.
“Please.”
“It can also cause slurred speech, drowsiness, and dermatitis. Toxicity includes metabolic disturbance, renal failure, venous and arterial thrombosis.”
“Thrombosis is blood clots, right?”
“Yes. Here’s the kicker. The chemical can cause encephalopathy, with seizures and coma.” She gave me a sorrowful look. “That is, it includes a characteristic pattern of brain injury.”
“Wow.” And I’d thought I was stunned before. “How can such toxins even be sold and used?”
“Mind you, these effects would be caused by direct ingestion of a heavy dose, either through the air or orally.”
“Like in food.”
“Yes. Exactly like in food.”
I thought. “Did Paul experience all that external stuff? Dermatitis, vomiting, irritated eyes?”
“The EMTs didn’t report evidence of vomit, and I didn’t see issues with his skin or eyes. But a large enough dose of the stuff administered by mouth all at once? It could have gone straight to his basic life functions. His body wouldn’t have had time to react in other ways.”
I stared at her. “Did you find it in his blood or in his stomach?”
“Both, Robbie.” She kept her voice gentle. “And I didn’t see any injection sites.”
“So it got into his blood from what he ate. And you found it in his lunch container.”
“The container goes
