by Norma Lehr
Abby opened a bottle of water and passed it across.
Trish sipped thoughtfully. “I don’t know which day it was. Or how many times. Two times, I think. Whatever, he bound my hands and feet when he left to drive back to the Springs. Office work, he said. Before he left, he gave me a half-glass of scotch. Said I had a choice. Either drink or get an injection. I turned away, but he knew I wanted it. Craved it by then. He waited until the glass was empty then he left the bottle on the floor next to the cot. Close enough for me to reach over with my bound hands.” She grimaced. “He knew my poison.”
Trish sighed and shook her head sadly. “I slept fitfully until he returned and brought me down to dinner again.”
“Did he tape your mouth when he left?”
“No. Not then. He did it for the first time shortly before you reached the cabin. He must have known he was being followed and panicked.”
Abby nodded thoughtfully. “One more thing, Mom. I picked up this book at your office.” She reached into her purse. “Deadly Doses: A Writer’s Guide to Poisons. Why did you have this?”
Trish turned and smiled. “I bought it for you, sugar. Picked it up at the local bookstore. When I was at your condo in Roseville, we talked about the mystery novel you’re working on,” She reached out and lovingly touched Abby’s fingers. “Figured it might help with your plotting.”
Abby hurried up the front walk of the police station. Blade’s VW was in the parking area. Now she could tell Trish’s story to both men. Save her mother from having to go over the gruesome details again. At least until later—after she was rested and had eaten some nourishing food. She had looked totally spent after telling her story. When she had slumped at the table and appeared to be utterly exhausted, Abby had taken her back to the bungalow and ordered her aunts to let Trish rest and leave the questions for later.
The policewoman from the front ushered her to Dawson’s office. Both men looked up from papers they were going over. “Come in and sit, Abby.” Dawson motioned to a chair next to Blade. “The dentist’s in the interrogation room writing down details of how he killed his friend.”
“And why,” Blade added. “But then you had it figured out when you dropped off this envelope. Right?”
Blade was speaking in a terse manner again, and she didn’t appreciate his tone. Either he was harboring a grudge because she hadn’t kept him informed of her whereabouts or …. She blinked hard and looked away. After listening to the story of her mother’s ordeal, she was impatient with his attitude. She ignored Blade and spoke to Dawson. “Did the book help? Is that how the nicotine was administered?”
Dawson smiled ironically. “Darned close. That page in the book pretty much spelled it out. Thomas Levine had Reynolds work on a loose tooth giving him problems. Our dentist here made a potent nicotine paste and stuffed it into a front molar after he drilled a root canal. Before he cemented on the temporary crown, he made a tiny hole in it so the nicotine could seep out. At the poker game, our crafty killer put out Levine’s favorite hard snack crackers. Levine crunched until the hole in the crown opened enough to release the deadly dose.”
“If you read Trish’s computer chapter,” Abby said, “then you know why he wanted Thomas Levine dead.”
“We both read it,” said Blade, trying to get Abby’s attention.
She gave him a quick glance. “Good. So what do you think?”
“It’s not as if Levine killed one of Reynolds’ twins. According to Trish’s notes, his daughter went to Levine’s clinic requesting Botox injections. At the time, Levine wasn’t aware he’d ordered defective Botox. It had been ordered from a well-known company.” Blade sniffed. “Tough luck. Anyway, Reynolds says his daughter wound up in a hospital with some blocked nerves and muscles.”
Dawson tapped his pen on his desk. “I called and spoke to her. Told her the situation with her father. She was shocked. Said her recovery had been slow, but she’s fine now.” He motioned with his chin. “Reynolds is in the back, swearing she doesn’t look identical to the other twin now. He thinks Levine disfigured her. Stole her beauty.”
Abby felt a chill and looked over her shoulder. “He’s quite mad, you know. He abducted Trish.”
“We know,” they said in unison.
Dawson added, “The liquor he got your mother to drink from his flask was spiked with Rohypnol. The date-rape drug.”
This new information didn’t surprise her. She’d suspected as much. Abby stood. Blade got up to stand next to her. “Leaving?”
She looked at Dawson. “Can you postpone talking to Trish until tomorrow? She’s exhausted.”
Dawson came around the side of his desk adjusting his belt. “Of course.”
Abby headed for the door then hesitated. “How about the rented car I left on the highway?”
Dawson nodded. “My men picked it up and brought it back to the rental place.” He glanced down, then looked up with narrowed eyes. “I want you to know that I think you’re one tough cookie.”
Abby smiled.
“So next time you come by, can you bring in that metal disk? The one that cut that bastard’s face?”
“You need it for evidence?”
“No. Might want one for myself.”
On the way back to her aunt’s, she dropped by Shari’s Boutique to tell Sharita the sequence of events leading up to finding her mother. She also thanked her profusely for the reading and for insisting she take the cat’s eye medallion. When she told her about Detective Dawson’s request for one, Sharita smiled. “Have him drop by for a reading and I’ll see what I can do.”
Abby nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait,” Sharita called. “This cop, Dawson. Good looking?”
Abby shrugged and nodded. “Not bad.”
“Single?”
Abby smiled mysteriously. “You’ll have to consult your cards for the answer.”
Saturday afternoon rolled around much too fast. The bungalow had been abuzz since dawn as the aunts and Trish prepared for the Follies matinee performance. Abby and Renee stayed in the background and let the three do their thing. Every so often, the sisters stopped trying on wigs and fussing over dresses to belt out a number from one of their old albums.
Abby couldn’t believe how fast her mother had recuperated, thanks to AA meetings, which she had faithfully attended over the last two days with her sponsor. She gave her word not to leave Palm Springs, so Dawson put her on hold for interrogation until Monday.
“Let’s go out by the pool and talk,” Renee said. “Come on.” She took hold of Abby’s arm. “I do love to hear them sing, but I really need you to explain a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Like what you thought you were doing tailing a killer alone.” Her lips were set tight. “Are you minus a fear gene?”
“Well,” Abby blew out her breath and sat in one of the lounge chairs, “I certainly couldn’t involve you in this. Not in good conscience. I started reading a paperback about poisons when I was at Trish’s in Yucca Valley. I took it with me and finished reading the important part at Logan’s. The key passage was on page 186—the number Sharita had channeled. That page described how nicotine had been administered by a fictional dentist. Earlier I had done some snooping around Reynolds’ place and remembered he was a mystery reader. Even if he hadn’t read that particular mystery, a story like that would have had to make the rounds of the dentists, maybe during their golf games. How many mysteries feature murderous dentists?”
Abby paused and adjusted the chair before continuing. “After we had dinner the other evening I figured he liked me.” She blinked. “I know now none of what I thought mattered. I believe he’s incapable of caring for anyone except himself. Otherwise he wouldn’t have abducted Trish.”
“Wait!” Renee swiveled about and sat sideways on the chair. “You were in his house?”
Abby winced. “That’s a whole other story.”
“Okay. So go on.”
“After locating Trish’
s last entry on her computer before the poker game and realizing how concerned she was for Thomas’ safety, I put it all together and suspected Reynolds. I knew Thomas had been poisoned by nicotine. Dawson told me when I called him from Yucca. But at the time, he hadn’t received the report from the ME about how it was administered. I tried to reach Blade and Dawson, but they were off together searching for evidence and motives. They didn’t say, but I believe they considered Logan and Michael Heath prime suspects.”
Abby leaned back in her lounge chair again. “This morning when I talked to Blade, he explained that they drove over to the coast to check if Trish was at Heath’s place. They decided to keep their own counsel. That’s why he left a message on his cell. Heath had gotten there earlier and explained how he dropped by Yucca Valley that morning. I saw him cruise by. Said he stopped there to ask shop owners about Trish before he moved on. Blade admits now he should have picked up when I called, but Dawson warned him not to. He was concerned I might head that way if I thought Trish was there. He didn’t want to worry about my safety.”
Abby gazed up at the clouds forming over Mt. Jacinto. “They were on their way back here as I started over the hill. Earlier I had gone by the station and dropped off the information I’d collected. Since they’re both sharp cops, Blade and Dawson followed me to the cabin.” She shuddered. “Enough already. Come on.” She crossed to the edge of the pool where she slipped off her sandals and dangled her feet in the cool water.
Renee wandered over, took off her own sandals, and sat down beside her. Neither spoke for a long while.
“One last thing,” Renee said, “What about the car that tried to run you down? Didn’t you tell me that was Heath’s son? Why would he try to kill you?”
“Could be he’s just an inexperienced driver or young and reckless,” Abby said. “He swore he didn’t mean to.”
The sliding door opened and Ginny stepped out. “Can one of you girls come in here and reason with Dorie? She thinks the dresses I’ve picked out for the performance are too revealing.” She harrumphed. “Since when is she in charge?”
Abby and Renee hung around the pool until Trish and her sisters left for the theater. They had been practicing their numbers inside and Abby didn’t want to disturb them. She glanced at Renee. “Do you need to go back to Logan’s to change?”
“No.” Renee waved a hand. “I brought my luggage over with me on Thursday. What time is the matinee?’
Abby lifted her feet out of the pool and padded barefoot toward the slider. “I’ll check. We really should go in and start to get ready.”
Renee stood as well. “Who all is planning to be there?”
Abby shrugged. “Hopefully a good crowd of supporters for the Malones. Past and present.”
CHAPTER 20
As it turned out, not only was it a good crowd, it was a grand crowd. At two o’clock, Abby and Renee stood in the lobby of the Historic Plaza Theatre as groups of folks talking and laughing made their way past them and down the aisles.
“Abby. Over here,” a familiar voice called.
Abby squinted. The woman wore a floppy red hat shading her face. She waved excitedly as she pushed past the line in front. When she reached Abby, she grabbed her and gave her a big hug.
“Margie! What are you doing here?”
“Came on the tour bus. Loaded up in Sacramento with a group of ballroom dancers and Red Hats.”
Abby lost her voice for a minute. “Right. Right.” She glanced over as the women entered in twos, chatting and laughing. She recognized some of them as Margie’s friends. Most were customers who shopped at Starduds.
Starduds! She coughed and thumped her chest. “Margie. Who’s watching the store?”
Margie took Abby’s arm and guided her to the side. “My daughter and her friend Lisa. They’re both reliable. They’ve had sales experience at shops in the mall. Besides, they’re dancers.” She patted Abby’s shoulder.
Dancers. Could be a good or bad omen. But Margie’s confident tone gave her a tiny bit of relief. “I thought you were coming down at a later time with your man friend.”
“Oh, him.” Her eyes rolled. “I wouldn’t take him to the zoo. That’s another story.” She winked. “Tell you later.” A couple of gals were waving wildly for her to join them. Margie turned up the brim of her hat and waved back. “We’ll meet here after the performance.” Another firm pat on Abby’s shoulder and she was off to join her group.
Renee moseyed on over. “Couldn’t help but hear. Trust her, Abby. She wouldn’t leave the store if she thought sales would go under. Your shop means too much to her. Let it go for now.” Renee cocked her head and held up a finger. “Listen.” She hunched her shoulders like a kid. “The music has begun.”
Halfway through the program, after the most incredible older dancers had done jaw-dropping routines, the curtains opened and the Malones appeared. Abby felt a thrill to see her family on stage. The trio looked beautiful in gorgeous gowns of gold lamé with rhinestones encircling the collars and cuffs. When the sisters put their arms around each other’s waists and bowed in unison, the applause was deafening.
Abby nudged Renee. “Where did they get those gowns?”
“Ginny had them hanging in a closet where she keeps everything from the past.”
Renee put a finger to her lips. “Shh. They’re going to sing.”
The music swelled with the intro of their big number “Forever Believe Me.” With their sophisticated chins held high, the trio stepped forward.
Abby scanned the crowded theater filled with groups of seniors who remembered the trio and their songs. She also spotted a group of younger folks standing and clapping enthusiastically. If only her grandma could be here to see her girls. A tiny breeze brushed her cheek. Abby smiled to herself. If Sharita had truly made contact with her, maybe …. Abby relaxed back into her seat with an overwhelming feeling of contentment.
Later in the evening at Ginny’s bungalow, the place buzzed with excitement. It seemed to Abby as if everyone Ginny had ever known around the Springs had been at the Plaza Theatre to hear the trio sing. Now they were here for the party. When Blade and Dawson, out of uniform, arrived together, they applauded the sisters for their great reunion performance.
Dorie’s eyes lit with excitement at Dawson’s attention. She fluttered like a butterfly as she lightly tapped his shoulder and told him about her TV ministry.
Sharita dropped in later and also made a beeline for Dawson. She wore a gorgeous necklace with an amber stone she dangled hypnotically as she spoke. Abby stared in amazement, wondering how in the world she knew to single him out. Perhaps she’d been directed from some other source—one from out of this world.
After they made the rounds with Ginny, who proudly introduced them to the most interesting and diverse mix of guests, Abby and Renee retired to the kitchen. Together they set up trays for the hors d’oeuvres ordered from Ginny’s favorite restaurant. Logan followed them in, tasted two and gave his nod of approval. He lowered his voice and talked a bit about the memorial service he and Heath had attended for the doctor. When Abby asked where Michael Heath was, he shrugged. “Staying at his place in Santa Barbara. Said he didn’t care for crowds and he would contact Trish when the hullabaloo was over.”
Renee filled a tray then left to serve. Logan followed. Abby stayed back to fold napkins while she hummed one of her mother’s favorite songs. Earlier Trish had assured her sisters and Abby not to worry about Atlantic City. She had no intention of writing anything in her memoir to endanger the family.
Logan returned for another tray and picked up two. He was truly a great guy. Obviously he’d taken a shine to Renee. One day in the future, Abby would let him know for sure that she was his half-sister. And proud of it.
She felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Startled for a moment, she turned and found herself looking into Blade’s warm dark eyes. “Whaddya say, woman—if we’re going to have any more time together in paradise, it’s gotta be tonight. Our flight leaves
in the morning.”
The sharpness from the last couple of days had disappeared from his voice and his breath felt warm against her cheek. She could almost feel her heart melt. Through the arch to the living room, she spotted Trish looking like her old self, conversing with friends. Her mother was finally safe and on the road to recovery.
Abby turned to this tough PI who cared about her safety and let the turmoil of the last two days go. Blade was here now. Her gumshoe detective. And he wanted her. The memory of their sunset night in Yucca Valley filled her with longing. She placed her arms on his shoulders, lowered her chin and looked up at him with sultry eyes. “Tell me where and when, Big Guy. All you have to do is pucker up and whistle.”
* * *
A former nurse and health food store owner from the Bay Area, Norma Lehr has four children and five grandchildren. She lives in Auburn, California, in the beautiful Sierra foothills with her husband.
Norma is a multi-genre author of short stories, a middle-grade ghost series, and an adult supernatural suspense novel, Dark Maiden (Juno Books, 2007).
Deadly Shuffle is the second mystery featuring amateur sleuth and retired show dancer, Abby Rollins. The series began with Timestep to Murder, also published by Camel Press.