It was only two days since Detective Grissom and Detective Hall had first come to her office in response to Nina’s report, and one day since they put the tap on her line to record her incoming telephone calls. They hadn’t said anything much, but she could tell from their demeanor that they were taking this all quite seriously. And it also seemed to her that the two detectives were continuing to spend a lot of time at Thornburgh House, on such a minor issue, really, talking to co-workers, asking endless questions about everyone she knew. In an odd sort of way, it was almost as though they were standing guard over her.
But that was there, and this was here, and just maybe the caller was much smarter and knew a whole lot more than anyone realized.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Doreen asked.
“Yes, I’m perfectly all right,” Clare replied with a quick shake of her head. “It was just one of those dumb crank calls.” As if on cue, the phone rang again. “Doreen, get that, will you? If it’s for me, tell whoever it is that I’ve already left for work.”
The heavyset Irishwoman nodded. “Hello?” she said into the receiver. “This is the Durant residence. How may I help you?” She turned to Clare. “There’s no one there,” she whispered.
“Never mind,” her employer said. “Just hang up.”
***
“He called her at home,” Erin told her partner an hour later.
Dusty nodded. “I’m not surprised,” he said. “If this is our guy, what’s going on here is that he’s following a set pattern. He’s thought the whole thing out and he knows exactly what he’s doing, because he’s doing it just like he did it before.”
“How do you know?”
“I checked back through all the old records. He called Laughlin for three weeks at the club where she was working, and then he started calling her at home. It was the same thing with Medina. According to her roommate, he called her for three weeks at the restaurant, and then he switched over to her apartment.”
“If this is the same guy, he certainly takes his time, doesn’t he?” Erin said thoughtfully. “Three years between targets.”
“I have to tell you, I don’t see another option at the moment,” Dusty insisted. “The Durant family has no skeletons.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve gone over the list of everyone Clare Durant knows through Thornburgh House, including both her current and past clients,” Dusty said with a nod. “Even the writers she rejected said they appreciated that she actually took the time to sit down and talk with them about their work. Socially, the Durants are major supporters of just about every charitable cause around here you can name. Their friends and relatives, even their acquaintances, adore them. And in an age of corporate double-dealing, so far as I can tell, Richard Durant is running an honest ship.”
“Well, that’s nice to know, anyway,” Erin said.
“I haven’t come across any unhappy shareholders, either. The buzz is that Nicolaidis Industries has a very exciting new product making its way through the testing phase, and the stock has been rock solid. What’s more, I can’t even find any disgruntled ex-employees. In fact, there aren’t many ex-employees at all, other than from relocation or retirement, in the past ten years. It’s just a very quiet, profitable, well-run company that’s been managing to hold its own during an up and down economy without having to lay people off or ask anyone to take a cut in pay.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then I guess we need to tell her,” Erin said with a sigh.
***
“A serial stalker?” Clare echoed in disbelief. “What on earth would a serial stalker want with me?”
“I’m afraid there’s no way to answer that,” Dusty told her. “But the pattern that’s beginning to emerge here is unmistakable.”
“Maybe not,” Nina said, overhearing, and stepping out of her office across the way.
“Maybe not what?” Erin asked.
“If this guy has a set pattern he follows, that starts with phone calls, then it may not be him,” Nina replied. “Because it could have started before that.”
The two detectives looked at Clare.
“You don’t know that, and neither do I,” Clare said, glowering at her friend before turning back to the detectives. “Which is the reason why I didn’t say anything before.”
“Well, suppose you tell us now whatever it is you didn’t tell us before,” Erin suggested.
“She was being poisoned,” Nina said before Clare could even open her mouth.
“Poisoned?” Dusty echoed.
“Please, just wait before you jump to the wrong conclusion, like Nina did,” Clare exclaimed.
“We’re waiting,” Erin said.
Exasperated, but outmaneuvered, Clare gave up. “All right, it started last March,” she explained. “I began having these really bad headaches, and I was tired all the time. And my mind would suddenly go blurry for no reason and I’d get all confused about things. Of course, the first thing I thought of was a brain tumor, so I went to the doctor, and he sent me for all the usual tests, but it wasn’t a brain tumor and no one could find anything else wrong with me, so he sent me on my way with some advice about stress and some over-the-counter remedies.”
“Which didn’t work,” Nina put in.
“No, as a matter of fact, they didn’t,” Clare conceded. “And then a few weeks after that, the stomachaches and the vomiting began, and my hands and feet started going numb, you know how it is, like when you get pins and needles?”
Dusty and Erin nodded.
“When I told that to the doctor, he insisted I come back in for more tests. And this time, he didn’t just take my blood, he took samples of my hair and my fingernails, too. And a few days after that, he told me he knew what was wrong.”
“You had arsenic poisoning,” Dusty said.
Clare looked up at him. “Yes.”
“What did you do?” Erin asked.
“Well, the first thing I did was
