Cat's Got Your Arsenic

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Cat's Got Your Arsenic Page 8

by Tara Meyers


  “Thank you,” she said quietly while nodding in agreement.

  Slipping a large work-roughened hand under her chin, Nathan gently tilted her face up. Firelight cast dancing shadows over them as he leaned in toward her, and Ember was mesmerized by the patterns. When his lips found hers, she felt lost in the moment, as if time were slowed and her senses heightened. The smell of his aftershave, the taste of coffee as her lips parted, and the warmth transferred from his skin to hers.

  With her eyes closed, it took a moment for the absence of him to register when he eventually pulled back. Her eyelids fluttered open, to find him hovering over her, his sharp, chiseled Lakota features softened by the warm glow of the fire. His dark eyes bore into hers with an intensity she’d never before experienced, and a new kind of heat blossomed from her core and rapidly spread to escape as a small gasp.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you, Ember.”

  A rush of emotions engulfed Ember at hearing the words, and her eyes burned with unexpected moisture. While she’d been telling herself not to read too much into their time together, there was no denying her feelings. She already knew she was in love with him.

  “Good,” she whispered, her voice catching. “It’s about time you told me. I’ve been in love with you for months now.”

  Flashing a brilliant smile, Nathan laughed. “Oh yeah? Well, I guess I’m a little slow at reading people.”

  “It’s okay,” Ember replied. Growing more serious, she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck. “You’re worth waiting for.”

  Rising to meet her, Nathan caught her under the arms and easily lifted her from the couch to lay her back against the cushions. Lingering above Ember for a moment, he smiled again before lowering himself.

  As their bodies met, Ember sighed with satisfaction while reaching to bury her fingers in his hair. But before she could pull him in for another kiss, Daenerys began to bark.

  “Quiet, Daenerys!” Nathan ordered while looking off to the side with some annoyance.

  Moving a hand to Nathan’s chest, Ember cautioned him. “Wait.” It wasn’t her normal attention-seeking bark, but a warning.

  Feeling the change in her as Ember’s muscles tensed, Nathan sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  Nodding toward Daenerys, Ember propped herself up on her elbows. “She hears something.” She’d barely uttered the words when there was a solid thump from the front of the house.

  The labradoodle stood pointing at the front door, her hackles raised. In between her barking, she emitted a low, threatening growl that Ember had only heard once before.

  “That’s what she did when we caught the guy breaking into the clinic,” she whispered.

  Fear quickly overtook any lingering feelings of desire as Ember watched Nathan jump up and go kneel next to Daenerys.

  “What is it, girl?”

  Daenerys crept forward, moving closer to the front door. The nervous energy she emanated was almost tangible.

  Clearly trusting the dog, Nathan stood abruptly and went to where his jacket was draped over the back of a nearby recliner. Under it was his shoulder holster, and he slipped his service weapon out with practiced ease. Holding the Glock at the ready, his finger alongside the trigger guard, Nathan looked back at Ember. “Stay here.”

  Ember followed his instructions for about five seconds and then slid off the couch. Keeping what she figured was a safe distance, she hovered at the end of the short hallway that separated the front foyer from the family room.

  Going first to the front window to the side of the door, Nathan lifted the curtain and peered outside. He then moved to the other front-facing window in the adjoining eating area and did the same thing. Apparently not spotting anything suspicious, he finally approached the door and peered out the peephole. Pulling his head back, he appeared confused.

  “What is it?” Ember asked.

  Nathan turned at her voice and frowned when he saw her standing there. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anyone there, but something’s partly blocking the view.”

  He unlatched the deadbolt and again motioned for Ember to stay where she was. Slowly at first, he swung the door open, and after confirming the porch was empty, he opened it the rest of the way.

  Ember gasped.

  Stuck nearly a quarter-inch deep into the solid oak door was a quivering butcher knife. A very expensive butcher knife that Ember was sure she’d seen recently. Her mouth formed the word without her even realizing it.

  “Delilah.”

  THIRTEEN

  Ember squinted against the early morning light. It was streaming in from the window behind Sheriff Walker’s desk, and she watched the dust motes dance in and out of the beams while trying to avoid looking directly at Sheriff Carpenter.

  It was early, she hadn’t slept much, and she was going to be late getting to the clinic. But she had promised Walker she would come in to talk personally with the sheriff from Thomas County since he was in charge of the murder investigation.

  Nathan had, of course, called the police the night before, and Deputy Trenton responded to take the report, get pictures, and bag the “evidence.” Trenton had talked with Walker before he left and set up the appointment in the morning for Ember. While she understood the necessity and she’d planned on going in to speak with Walker anyway about her dad, she really didn’t want to get directly involved.

  Too late for that.

  She finally met Sheriff Carpenter’s inquisitive gray eyes and did her best not to let her frustration show. “I already told you, Sheriff, that I don’t think Delilah Huntsman has anything to do with this.”

  “We’ve got preliminary results that her prints match those found on the knife,” Sheriff Carpenter pushed.

  “Of course her prints are going to be on the knife!” Ember stopped trying to hide her irritation. “It’s her knife! Which is exactly why she wouldn’t have used it. Come on, Sheriff, have you never watched Perry Mason?”

  The Thomas County Sheriff stared back at her in silence.

  “Agatha Christie?”

  “Ember,” Walker cautioned.

  “Well, come on. If anything, this further proves that Delilah is being set up. Rather badly too.” Ember frowned at her own conclusion. It was too obvious.

  “Contrary to what you may have seen on TV,” Carpenter replied, “the truth is most often what’s right in front of your face. We’re led to believe that most killers are some sort of cunning mastermind, when in reality, they’re desperate, impulsive sociopaths with little self-control.”

  Ember drummed her fingers on the top of the oak table they were seated at in the middle of Walker’s office. “Right. I’m sure you’ve met Delilah. She strikes you as an impulsive sociopath?”

  Sheriff Carpenter whistled slowly and leaned back in his seat. He was a large barrel-chested man who looked to be around fifty. He had a demeanor that reminded Ember of someone who’d been in the military for a very long time.

  “She always this pushy?”

  Walker smirked at the other sheriff before answering, “You have no idea.”

  Carpenter slapped a meaty hand over the bagged knife before pushing his chair back, the legs scraping against the wood floor. “I appreciate your initial report on this,” he said to Walker. “And in answer to your question,” he continued, looking again at Ember as he stood. “No, Delilah Huntsman doesn’t come across as the type to run around throwing knives at doors. But fortunately, the law doesn’t operate off of first impressions and intuition. I assure you that a thorough investigation is underway and will continue, Dr. Burns, regardless of anyone’s―” his eyes flicked in Walker’s direction, “personal feelings.”

  Though pleasant goodbyes were exchanged, Ember could feel the tension. She was glad when the door closed behind the Thomas County policeman. Glancing over at Walker, she had a feeling he was also relieved to see the other man go.

  “Do you think he’ll arrest Delilah?”

  Walker gave a curt sh
ake of his head. “No. Not yet anyway. He could. He has enough to warrant an investigative hold, but I think he’s waiting until he has enough to also implicate her in her husband’s death.”

  “I need to talk to you about something else.” Ember decided to cut to the chase. She wasn’t in the mood for easing into it.

  Walker ran a hand over his head in a practiced gesture, but it did nothing to ease the lines around his eyes. “I spoke with Becky on the phone a half-hour ago.”

  Ember was shocked. She looked back at the closed door, her eyes narrowing. “You didn’t tell Sheriff Carpenter?”

  Walker’s chair creaked as he leaned back far enough to peek out his window and into the parking lot. Seemingly content that the other man was gone, he coughed once before answering. “I promised Becky to keep it to myself until after Christmas. If Carpenter hasn’t figured things out by then, I’ll let him know.” When Ember only stared at him, he became defensive. “Look, Ember, I tend to agree with your aunt. It’s got to be a coincidence, and stirring things up further is only going to muddy the water.”

  “I’d say the water is already adequately muddy.”

  Walker’s nostrils flared as he stood abruptly. “Do you have anything else you’d like to discuss with me? Because I’ve got some business to attend to.”

  “Actually, I wanted to ask you about Allen Swenson.”

  Audibly sighing, Walker sat back down. “Why, Ember? Stay out of it.”

  “I was just curious as to what he was doing here in Sanctuary. Bonnie said he came by there a couple times a year and was always pushy, trying to get them to buy expensive machinery.”

  “Bonnie thinks everyone is pushy,” Walker countered. “Allen was a sales rep for a large farming supply chain. That’s it. His largest client was most likely Morton Ellsworth, of course, but he had several other clients in our county. I believe he made the rounds quarterly and would stay in town for a few days.”

  Ember considered the information. “I’m surprised he still came here in person. Why not do it online like most everything else?”

  “Us countryfolk are a weird breed,” Walker said with an exaggerated Southern accent. “And some of the equipment Allen was peddling was worth several hundred thousand. We’re not talking just grass seed and fertilizer.”

  “Fertilizer,” Ember murmured.

  “What?”

  “What’s MSM, uh―MSAM―” Ember struggled to recall the letters on the tub that fell from the shelf in the Hathaway barn.

  “MSMA?” Walker’s voice was cautious.

  “Yeah! That’s it.” Ember tilted her head slightly when she saw the sheriff’s expression.

  “Where did you see that?”

  “When I went out to, um, talk with Bonnie Hathaway. It was in the barn. What is it?”

  Walker looked uncomfortable. “It is a fertilizer. An old form that isn’t readily available anymore.”

  “So?”

  Standing again, the sheriff’s jaw visibly clenched before he slowly shook his head at Ember. “Its main ingredient is arsenic.”

  The water had just gotten muddier.

  FOURTEEN

  “Nathan said he loves you?” Mel shouted.

  Ember cringed, even though she knew she and Mel were the only people in the clinic. They were standing to either side of a heavily sedated dog and were getting ready to clean its teeth. She’d been late, and they’d rushed to get started so they wouldn’t fall behind schedule. It was going to be a busy day.

  “He said he was falling in love with me,” Ember corrected.

  “What’s the difference?”

  Laughing, Ember expertly inserted an IV and then looked coyly at her friend. “Falling in love is much more romantic.”

  “Oh! I want details. Is that why you were late?” Mel added while wiggling her eyebrows.

  Ember started to laugh, but her mood was quickly overshadowed by the real reason behind her late start.

  “What?” Mel sounded concerned. She’d stopped prepping the dog’s mouth and was staring at Ember suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Okay, but keep working,” Ember directed. “I don’t want him sedated longer just so I can tell my sordid story.” She proceeded to explain the knife in the door and her meeting with Sheriffs Walker and Carpenter.

  Fifteen minutes later, the terrier had clean teeth, and Mel appeared to have a permanent frown. “You should have called me,” she finally said in a very un-Mel-like serious tone. “I would have come over. Or did Nathan stay?”

  Ember finished setting the dog into a recovery crate and made sure he was situated just right before closing the door and turning to look at her friend. She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or remorse in Mel’s voice.

  “I’m sorry. There was so much happening, and I didn’t want to wake you up. Aunt Becky showed up a few minutes after Deputy Trenton. Apparently, one of her friends always has a scanner on and gave her a call when she heard the dispatch. Anyway, she insisted on staying with me last night so I wasn’t alone. Nathan had to work early this morning,” she added when Mel tilted her head in question.

  “I don’t understand why someone would target you.” Mel busied herself with cleaning up the tools and procedure table. “You talked to Delilah a couple of times about her cat. So what? How does that tie you into this whole mess and another death from seventeen years ago?”

  Ember hesitated. She didn’t know why she hadn’t already included Mel in everything that was going on. Maybe because it involved her family, and while they were best friends, they still hadn’t actually known each other for very long.

  In spite of her logical reasoning, guilt made her face hot, and she felt a need to apologize again. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I honestly only found out yesterday after you left the clinic with Cody.”

  “Found out what?”

  “December fifteenth, the day that Allen Swenson died?”

  “Yeah, and the same day Delilah’s husband died. What about it?” Mel leaned forward, her small frame tense.

  “It’s also the same day my dad died when I was a year old.” Saying it for the second time was easier than the first, but Ember’s voice still cracked. It was hard to wrap her mind around the possibility that her father had been murdered.

  Mel was silent for so long that Ember wasn’t sure she’d understood. But then the other woman slowly brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Who could do such a thing?” she said through her fingers.

  “Good question. Or more to the point, who else would have even known about the similar dates, even if it were a coincidence?” Ember pulled her nitrile gloves off and resisted the urge to wipe at her eyes.

  “A coincidence?” Mel blurted. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, of all people. This isn’t a coincidence, Ember. Whoever killed Allen had to have known. That means they killed all three men.”

  “Or they know someone else killed the first two and are using it to frame Delilah,” Ember added. “Or,” she continued, becoming more exasperated, “the killer didn’t know about my dad because it really is a fluke that he died the same day.” Ember finished washing her hands and then rubbed at her temples. She’d had a headache since she woke up, and it was only intensifying.

  Mel went to Ember and wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders. “This could really mess with a person’s head.”

  Nodding, Ember leaned into her friends embrace. She was always surprised by the smaller woman’s strength.

  “I’m worried you might be missing the bigger picture, though.”

  Ember straightened and tried to focus through the pain in her forehead. She’d have to hunt down some Advil. “What bigger picture? How can this get any bigger?”

  “The knife,” Mel replied. “You’re so worried about Delilah and convinced it’s all about framing her that you aren’t looking at the obvious threat against you.”

  “But you said it yourself. All I’ve done is talk with Delilah a couple of
times. The only other digging I’ve done this past week was into the disappearing animals…” Ember’s voice trailed off as she remembered the conversation in the Hathaway barn.

  “Hasn’t it occurred to you that it doesn’t have anything to do with what you’ve done?” Mel’s voice rose as she became more insistent. “If your father was murdered, Ember, then who knows what the motivation was? This psycho might not need a reason other than you’re his daughter.”

  Mel’s fear was contagious. Trying to shake off the sudden chill she was feeling, Ember headed for the break room. There was a sweatshirt and a semi-fresh pot of coffee. She needed both.

  Glancing at the clock as she pulled the sweatshirt on, Ember saw that they still had another fifteen minutes before the next well-check was due to arrive. Fortunately, they always scheduled an extra half-hour when sedation was involved, so they’d made up for lost time.

  “How was your date yesterday?” Handing Mel a cup, Ember decided to change the subject. She’d think about it later.

  “It was great. The ice was perfect, just like Cody said it would be.”

  Ember recognized the far-away look in Mel’s eyes, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. It was hard to know how to feel when she didn’t know anything about the guy her friend was falling so hard for.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your mystery man?”

  Mel blinked twice and then squinted at Ember. “What do you mean? There’s no mystery about him.”

  “Okay, then, let’s call it avoidance and obscure details. Something you were just accusing me of and acting all hurt about. It goes both ways, you know.” Although she said it lightly as if in jest, it hit too close to the truth.

  Mel’s face fell, and Ember rushed to soften the blow. “It’s just that I care about you. And I worry. You’ve seemed…different since Cody came back. Distant. I miss our conversations.”

 

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