My energetic striding slowed to a toe-dragging mosey. Out behind the Green Artichoke the other evening, Zoe had called Katherine a witch. This morning, Cody had mentioned Katherine in the same breath as “really bad.” My nostrils flared and I halted so suddenly a man nearly clipped my elbow as he passed me.
“Move out of the way next time you stop so suddenly, okay, sweetheart?” he tossed over his power-walking shoulder.
Zoe had cautioned me to keep my distance from Katherine. I swore under my breath. Sure, Katherine could be difficult. But what if, in an effort to save Daddy’s finances, she had tried—successfully or unsuccessfully—to rope Zoe into poisoning Paul?
As a person living with an addiction, Zoe was extra vulnerable. I wouldn’t be surprised if Katherine or someone else had preyed on her. I sent out an intention for Zoe not to be involved in Paul’s death. It truly would kill Liz, or close to it.
Chapter 50
All beached out, I plopped down on the bed in my room at a little after two. I had a ten o’clock flight out of Los Angeles International tomorrow morning, which meant I’d have to get up by five at the latest and drive out of here shortly thereafter to get to LAX on time. When I came back after dinner tonight, I needed to remember to ask Carmen if I could get a quick cup of coffee super early and take it in a disposable cup.
I’d successfully executed a fly-by shopping excursion to several tourist shops on my way back here, picking up every item I’d thought of earlier, plus a T-shirt for yours truly. I rarely bought things for myself at home, so these were guilt-free purchases. I hoisted my suitcase onto the bed, even though I’d never fully unpacked it, and started layering in clean clothes, gifts, my laundry bag, and everything else I wouldn’t need in the next fifteen hours.
It was a good thing my purple carry-on had a zipper allowing for a few more inches of expansion. I had to pay to check the bag anyway, so I could carry home the olive oil. My flight was direct from LA to Indy, and I was going home. I could easily do without all this stuff if it got lost for a few days, unlike when bags went missing at the start of a trip.
As I folded and organized and stashed, I thought about Cody. Why hadn’t he called? Surely he wasn’t still at the station talking to Gifford? What had he been poised to tell me about Katherine? I stopped short. Did she have any idea he was revealing something about her to the authorities? Worse, would Cody be safe when he was released? Maybe they were keeping him for his own safety.
For the umpteenth time that week, I swore out loud, not something I normally made a practice of. Whipping out my phone, I texted Gifford.
Please keep Cody safe from Katherine and Walter.
I sent it. Maybe my message was a stupid impulse. Maybe the detective had already thought of protecting his witness, especially if Cody had revealed his sister—or his father—to have done something tragically criminal.
I had few blood relatives. I could never conceive of hurting Adele or Roberto, and I knew they felt the same. By the same token, none of us would ever commit murder. Perhaps once a person crossed such a line, nothing was off-limits. If Walter or Katherine was nasty enough to have pulled off Paul’s murder, they were surely dastardly enough to wipe out an informant, too, even if he was related by blood.
From mysteries I’d read, I knew poisoning was considered a “woman’s crime,” maybe because it was tidier. Guns and knives produced a lot of blood, and knives and strangling needed someone strong enough to kill by that means. Would Walter have poisoned Paul? And why use the very chemicals his own company manufactured? That was too stupid to contemplate. On the other hand, if he was at risk of losing his house and his livelihood, he could have been desperate enough to act stupidly. Katherine was the calculating type. She wasn’t personally desperate, I didn’t think, but she might have been willing to commit an extreme act to save her father. It was possible they’d acted together, too.
I laid down the shirt I’d been folding and set my elbows on the windowsill. Through the screen I breathed in a hint of rosemary layered with the aroma of bread baking and the ever-present scent of the sea. It helped to soothe the turmoil of feelings this week had brought up, the suspicions and murky facts.
I was going to miss being here. This room, my hosts and old friends, the city, this breathtaking region, with or without wildfires. Something about home always drew me back.
Sighing, I returned to the job at hand. My gaze fell on the iPad. I’d never gotten around to digging into Agrosafe’s finances. Because I’d learned they were privately held? Still, it was worth a try, if only to confirm Walter was in need of money. I sat at the desk and got out my virtual shovel. The going was slow at first. As it was a company not being publicly traded, Agrosafe had no filings of profit and loss statements, no registrations of investors or expenses, no annual reports.
Half an hour later I sat back. Very interesting. I’d finally found a recent news article in the financial section confirming an S. Moore being an angel investor. Sydelle. She was dating Walter and also rescuing him. What people wouldn’t do for love. But what else had she done for Walter? Katherine wouldn’t have cooperated with her to kill Paul, I was sure. Katherine had been clear she didn’t
