“I wanted to bring Fella over to sit with you, but I was afraid of what your wild cat would’ve done. I don’t trust that cat as far as I can throw him.”
I took a big gulp and swallowed the last of the tea. I opened my mouth to show her. “See, it’s all gone.”
Ina started telling me a long, detailed account of her and Juliet’s cruise plans for August. “It’s the perfect time of year to see Alaska, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” I said. “I really . . .”
“Juliet is such a hussy. You should have seen the dress she bought yesterday.”
“That’s nice.” I paused, “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“I feel a little woozy.” I sat farther back on the couch, shaking my head.
“You do?”
I started to nod, but the action took too much effort. I stretched my legs onto the couch, and Ina covered me with the orange cotton sheet.
I jerked awake, grasping my thundering chest. Ina was knitting an emerald green scarf on the rocking chair. The light in the living room was dim. The VCR clock read ten after nine. I’d slept for nearly three hours. Templeton perched on the back of the couch, his back arched.
“What happened?” My head throbbed.
“Oh, you’re awake. Did you have a nice rest?”
“How could I have slept that long?” I held the side of my head.
“A little sleeping draft I whipped up. It was my mother’s recipe.”
“What?” I asked. Templeton jumped off the couch.
She kept on knitting. “It’s all natural, all herbal. You have nothing to worry about. I’ve taken it many times myself.”
“You drugged me?”
“There were no drugs involved, and you needed the rest.” She gave me her elfin smile.
I jumped off the couch. I grabbed the arm as I started to topple over. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“It was for your own good. I was helping,” she said, as if that was a completely reasonable explanation for lacing my drink.
I clenched my jaw and mentally counted to ten. I blew out a long breath. “Mains is going to kill me, I was supposed to be at the Justice Center four hours ago.”
“Oh, dear.” Ina hopped out of the rocking chair.
After a minute, the dizziness passed. I grabbed a dark, paint-splattered hooded sweatshirt from my closet and slipped my wallet and cell phone in the pockets of my shorts. “I have to go.”
“Isn’t it too late,” Ina said.
“It’s better that I go now than wait until tomorrow.”
I left Ina in my living room, knowing that she would lock up my apartment for me before she left.
Chapter Forty-Four
After nine at night, even during the summer, the people of Stripling roll up the sidewalks. Despite the fact that Stripling is a college town, it is not a party town. If the students of Martin are looking for any night life, they drive the fifteen miles to go to bars in Kent.
The Justice Center parking lot was just as deserted as it had been several nights ago when I visited my brother. I walked up the steep steps, both dreading and hoping that Mains would be there. Instead of Mains, I was greeted by Officer Knute, who was again behind the desk. He scowled when I walked in.
“I’m here to see Detective Mains,” I said.
Knute gave me a bored look. “Name?”
“For crying out loud, you know who I am.”
Knute’s face was impassive. “Name?”
Through gritted teeth. “India Hayes.”
“Ahh, yes,” he said. “Detective Mains said I was to take your statement if you bothered to show up tonight.”
I kept my mouth shut. I was in enough trouble as it was. I didn’t think that Officer Knute would think twice before throwing me in a cell.
As the reception area was empty, he asked me to write my statement right there. Thirty minutes later, I signed it and handed it to Officer Knute.
With my conscience cleared, I left the station. I didn’t bother to say good-bye.
In the parking lot, I stood under the same lamppost where Mains had asked me if I remembered him, and where I’d lied and told him that I didn’t. I was reluctant to go home. Mark would be moved to a prison most likely the next day if I didn’t do something. I knew there was one person I still hadn’t talked to, who I needed to talk to. I looked up into the lamppost light. Two huge moths knocked themselves silly against the glass. Why did I feel like I’d be doing the same if I spoke to Regina Blocken?
I got in my car and headed to Kilbourne Street.
I knocked on the Blockens’ door with a firm hand. Lights flickered on. The door opened. Mrs. Blocken wore royal blue satin pajamas and matching robe, but her face was still in full makeup.
“I need to talk to you.” As it was a wide doorway, I slipped past her into the parlor.
Fury replaced her shock. “It’s after eleven. How dare you invade my home like this?”
I paced the room. “I need to talk to you about Mark.”
“Whatever you have to say can wait until morning.” She tightened her robe around her waist.
“No, it can’t wait because in my mind it keeps coming back to you. You were the one who was in control of the wedding. You were the one who noticed the engagement picture missing.”
Mrs. Blocken paled, and I knew I had been correct.
“You know: The engagement picture that someone conveniently placed in Mark’s office right before the police got an anonymous tip to search it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. You had access to the engagement picture and to the scarf you planted later in Mark’s apartment when the first try didn’t work. I found the engagement picture before the police, by the way.”
