Lucy carefully moved Vanessa’s hair and turned her head slightly to get a better view. A tiny red pinprick on the side of Vanessa’s neck looked suspiciously like a needle mark. She cursed herself for not having her cellphone with her to take a picture, but up here there was no reception so she’d left her phone in the car. She searched the room, looking for another camera. If the Marshes didn’t have one, she’d ask the others, though she’d then have to explain why.
Vanessa’s death now appeared much more like murder.
III
A loud knock on the door was followed by Patrick calling out, “Lucy! It’s Patrick.”
She again put the sheet over Vanessa’s body in case anyone else was with him, and ran to the door, the digital camera she’d found in Vanessa’s purse now strapped to her wrist. Kyle DeWitt was there, along with Steve. She didn’t want anyone else in the room, and said, “Out of respect for the deceased, I think only Patrick should come in.”
“What’s going on?” Steve demanded. “Is Mrs. Marsh really dead?”
“Yes,” she said. “Please-”
“Oh my God.” Steve ran his hands through his mop of hair. He looked panicked. “This is terrible. What more could go wrong?”
The comment was cryptic, but Lucy didn’t ask him to elaborate. She caught Patrick’s eye and signaled to get rid of the other men. Patrick picked up on this and filled the doorway. “Steve,” he said, “I need you to contact the sheriff’s department.”
“They won’t be able to get up here-”
“Call them. You have a landline, right?”
“Yes, but-”
“I know, it might be down, so try now before the storm gets worse. Tell them we have a deceased female, cause unknown, and to send a unit and coroner as soon as possible. Get a contact name and number, and tell them that there’s a retired police detective on scene.”
“You?” Kyle said. “You’re young to be retired.”
“Long story.” Patrick handed Steve one of his Rogan Caruso Kincaid business cards. “That’s my contact information and P.I. license number. I’ll call in as soon as I have something to report.”
“But what happened to her?” Kyle asked.
Lucy hesitated, then said, “I don’t know.”
Patrick glanced at her. Lucy was the world’s worst liar, and Patrick realized the situation was serious. “Kyle, would you go downstairs and tell everyone to see what they can do to comfort Trevor? As soon as Lucy and I get a handle on this, we’ll be down.”
He closed the door before either Steve or Kyle could object, then turned to Lucy and said, “What’s going on?”
“I found a needle mark on Vanessa’s neck.”
Patrick walked over to the body and was about to remove the sheet when he saw that Lucy was wearing gloves. “You do it.”
“They’re not latex, but it’s better than nothing,” she said.
“You must have been suspicious from the beginning to put them on.”
“Well, a little. The lid is on the pill bottle.”
“So?”
“Suicides aren’t usually so tidy. She could have put it on, out of habit, but then there’s the fact that she took a shower, but didn’t dress. I just thought-be careful. All the training beats it into you.”
“You can say that again.”
She pulled down the sheet. “Do you see it?” She pointed to the mark.
“Yes, but you must have been looking to notice something so small. At first glance, it could be a new pimple or minor skin blemish.”
“I saw it and-” She stopped and turned Vanessa’s head more to the right. “She’s had a face-lift. It’s good work, too-I didn’t notice the marks at first, but I wasn’t looking for them.”
Patrick stared. “I can barely see anything.”
“Like I said, excellent work. But right here under her ear-” She put her finger on the scar. “And there’s minimal tightness, so I think she already had good skin and complexion, no excessive sun exposure. She’s someone who has been well taken care of most of her life.”
“Someone killed her,” Patrick said flatly.
“I think so, but I couldn’t say definitively. We should secure her body and this room.”
“How long has she been dead?”
“One to four hours. Probably closer to three hours.”
“We need to question everyone. But Lucy-if the killer suspects that we’re onto the fact that Vanessa Marsh was killed, no one here is safe.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do. Lucy, you’ve never been able to lie. Let me ask the questions, okay? I’m going to tell everyone that we need to move the body to a cold environment for health reasons.”
“That’s true.”
“Then you can say that.” Patrick rubbed her arm. “Then I’ll say we have no idea what happened, but it looks like an accidental overdose or possibly natural causes.”
“Before I saw the needle mark, I thought embolism or aneurysm.”
“Good-”
“But will anyone believe she took sleeping pills in the middle of the day and accidentally overdosed?”
“Not everyone thinks like a cop, Lucy. We need to search this room now, before we move the body. I’ll need help, Steve and Kyle.”
“Do you think Trevor killed her?”
“The husband is always the first suspect, and often guilty.”
“He just doesn’t seem-” She cut herself off. Killers didn’t always look the part. “I like him,” she said simply.
“So do I. But we’re cops in this scenario. You didn’t kill her and I didn’t kill her. Therefore, right now we’re the only people we can trust. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I’ll start here. You take the bathroom and their luggage.”
Lucy started in the bathroom. The shower floor was still damp, the hair dryer was plugged in. She put herself in Vanessa’s shoes-take a shower before dinner, dry her hair before dressing. She’d set out her clothes-another indication that she planned to go downstairs to eat. Vanessa’s makeup, jewelry box, and toiletries were organized neatly on the counter. She wouldn’t leave the hair dryer plugged in all day. She would have put it away. The meticulous way the bathroom was set up indicated that.
How did the killer get the needle into Vanessa without a struggle? It had to be someone she trusted to get that close. And what drug could have such an immediate effect that she would have no time to scream or fight back? It would have to have a paralyzing effect. Had she been drugged while lying in bed? Then why had she lain down in the first place?
Maybe Trevor came in and suggested a midday lovemaking session. They got into the bed and during foreplay he injected her. Up close and personal. Intimate. Watched her die. Was she surprised? Did she beg for her life or demand to know why?
There were few convenient drugs that could kill instantly, but if Vanessa was incapacitated that would make it easier for killer.
Lucy stepped out of the bathroom and said, “Patrick, the wine by her bed. We need it for evidence.”
“What are you thinking?”
