TIL DEATH

by Annette Dashofy

  Although, for the sake of security, having other humans around might have been a good idea.

  Zoe charged through the open door to find Loretta backing Paulette against one wall and demanded, “What’s going on here?” with the same voice she used on her horse when it tried to push her around.

  Loretta wheeled, allowing Paulette to scuttle away from the crazed widow. “Why haven’t you released Frank’s body yet?”

  Zoe held her ground despite knowing this woman might be the reason he was dead. “The case is still under investigation.”

  “Don’t try to pull that ‘under investigation’ shit with me.” Loretta advanced until she was mere inches from Zoe. “You’ve done your autopsy against my wishes. There’s nothing else you need from him. All you’re doing is delaying letting me put my husband to rest.”

  The words were the right ones, but any sincerity was negated by the rage in Loretta’s dark eyes.

  “She’s the county coroner,” Pete’s voice boomed from behind Zoe. “The body is hers until she says otherwise.”

  Loretta’s venomous gaze shot over Zoe’s shoulder to the doorway. Zoe didn’t turn to look but knew Pete and Wayne were there in all their intimidating glory. Her own personal cavalry.

  “He’s my husband.” Loretta bit off the words through a clenched jaw. “I want him released now. Tonight.” Her eyes came back to Zoe. “And if you refuse, I’ll get a court order.”

  Footsteps—Pete’s and Wayne’s—clunked across the creaky old floor, approaching from the doorway behind Zoe. In her peripheral vision, she saw them flank her.

  “We have a few questions for you, Mrs. Marshall,” Wayne said.

  Clearly not what Loretta had expected. “Questions? About what?”

  “I understand you’re a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. Is that correct?”

  She eyed Wayne suspiciously. “Yes.”

  “I understand your company’s developing an oral version of insulin.”

  Zoe knew the detective was bluffing, but Loretta didn’t. A muscle in her cheek twitched. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not in R and D. What’s this all about?”

  Pete took over. “Where were you last Monday?”

  “Last Monday?” She looked from Pete to Wayne and back, skipping over Zoe. “I’m not saying a thing until you tell me what this is about.”

  “When was the last time you were in Langley’s Dress Shop?” Wayne asked.

  Zoe knew they were trying to throw Loretta off balance, and from her reaction, it worked.

  “Langley’s? How the hell am I supposed to remember that?”

  “Try,” Wayne said, his tone lacking any of his usual humor.

  Loretta faced the detective. In her heels, she stood eye-to-eye with his well over six-foot frame. Zoe pictured the woman in a black hoodie running across a dark parking lot and could easily imagine her being mistaken for a man.

  “This is ridiculous.” Loretta gave her head a quick shake as if freeing herself from a spider’s web she’d just walked into. “I have nothing to say to any of you.” She jabbed one red-taloned finger into Zoe’s shoulder. “Except you. Mr. Everett Jones will be at the morgue promptly at eight tomorrow morning. I expect you to be there with all the necessary paperwork done so that he can move Frank’s body.”

  Pete cut her off by shouldering in front of Zoe. “We’re not done with our questions yet.”

  Loretta gave an exasperated huff. “And I told you. I’m not answering any of your questions until you tell me what this is about.”

  “Do you know Gina Wagner?” Wayne asked.

  “Who? No.”

  Pete’s turn. “How about Dustin Landis?”

  Loretta’s eyes widened. Slowly. Her mouth hung open, no words coming out for longer than Zoe had ever seen from the woman. When she spoke, her voice was low, cautious. “Of course, I’ve heard of Dustin Landis.”

  “How well did you know him?” Pete asked.

  “I didn’t.”

  “You worked in the same building.”

  Loretta lifted her chin. “I’m done here.” She turned to move around Pete.

  But he reached out and blocked her with an arm. “If you don’t talk to us here, you can talk to us at the county police station.”

  She slapped his arm away. “You can’t detain me unless I’m under arrest and you have no grounds.”

  “Grounds?” Pete unclipped his handcuffs from his duty belt. “You just assaulted a police officer.”

  Loretta flashed both palms in a stop gesture. “Wait. Fine. I’ll go with you. Voluntarily. No need for those things. But I’m not going to say a word until my attorney is present.”

  Wayne stepped to her side, took her by the arm, and leaned close to her ear. “Funny. That’s exactly what I was going to tell you. You have the right to remain silent.”

  Zoe joined Paulette and draped an arm around the trembling secretary’s shoulders as they watched Wayne escort the widow out. Pete shot Zoe a subtle grin before trailing after them.

  Stillness hung over the musty office except for the ticking of icy rain pelting the window.

  Paulette finally broke the silence. “I was about to call you right before she stormed in here.” She peeled away from Zoe and faced her with a smile. “I found it.”

  “Found what?”

  “Franklin’s will. The new one.”

  “Where?”

  “Inside one of his forensics books.” Paulette strode to her desk where a box sat yawning open. She lifted one of the volumes Pete had tossed in while helping Zoe last Thursday evening. “I’d gone through everything that had been in my office before Loretta ran us out of the funeral home. This evening, I decided to look through the stuff you’d packed.” Paulette set the book on her desk and opened it, revealing a sheath of legal documents.

  Zoe crossed the room, hand extended.

  Paulette gave her the papers. “Franklin’s attorney was right. He changed his will. And left his portion of the business and most of his money to me.”

  “This is fabulous,” Zoe said as she scanned the legalese. “It means Loretta can’t completely take over Marshall Funeral Home. And he left you more than enough cash to buy her out.”

  “I hope. I need to talk to the lawyer again, since it was never registered.”

  Zoe could feel Paulette’s gaze burning into her and lifted her gaze from the document. “What?”

  The secretary couldn’t contain her smile. “Didn’t you see it there?” She nodded at the will. “Franklin left the rest of his money to you.”

  Thirty-One

  If Pete had ever wondered about the phrase “if looks could kill,” he didn’t any longer. After spending the night in county lockup, Loretta sat in the county police department’s Interview Room A, Ms. Gail Downey, Esquire, at her side, glaring at the two-way mirror. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she could see through it and was watching him.

  Baronick entered the observation room just before eight thirty a.m., carrying a file and two cups of coffee. “Sorry I’m late. I thought you might’ve started without me.”

  Pete took one of the cups. “I thought about it.”

  “I had a few arrangements to make before we get this show on the road.”

  “Some show. Ms. Downey will tell her to not answer our questions and insist we release her client because we don’t have any solid evidence. And she’ll be right. We don’t.”

  “Maybe.”

  Pete looked at him, wondering what Baronick knew that Pete didn’t.

  “I found out the company Loretta works for is indeed the one developing the oral insulin. Unfortunately, due to HIPAA, we can’t find out if anyone around here is part of the testing.” The detective waved a paper. “I did manage to get a search warrant for the grieving widow’s home and car for samples of the new drug.”

>   “She’s too smart to keep that kind of evidence around.”

  “True. But you never know what else we might stumble across during the search. Besides, she could’ve slipped up.” Baronick smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “The search warrant wasn’t the only thing keeping me busy. I’ve arranged for a double feature.”

  Pete refused to ask what he meant.

  Baronick aimed a thumb over his shoulder. “I had Dustin Landis brought over from the jail. He and Anthony Imperatore are waiting in Interview B. Do you want to let the ladies stew a while longer while we chat with Landis?”

  “No. I want to hear what Loretta has to say first.”

  “You just told me you don’t expect her to talk.”

  “I said her attorney will order her not to talk. Doesn’t mean we won’t get anything from her. And if we do, we might have some new questions for Landis.”

  Baronick grinned. “I like the way you think.”

  Both women looked up as they entered. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting,” Gail Downey said.

  It struck Pete that the words came from Downey’s mouth but sounded a lot like Loretta, leaving him to wonder about the widow’s ventriloquist skills.

  “What’s so funny?” This time Loretta’s lips moved.

  Pete hadn’t realized he was grinning. Damn. He needed to brush up on his poker face. “Nothing,” he said. “There’s nothing funny about three homicides.”

  Neither woman responded.

  Baronick took the seat across from Loretta. Pete decided to remain standing. For now.

  After stating the date, time, case number, and naming those present for the audio recording, Baronick looked squarely at Loretta. “Dustin Landis,” he said.

  Loretta didn’t move. Her lawyer stared unblinking at Baronick and said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  He kept his gaze on Loretta. “How well do you know him?”

  Downey glanced at her client and gave a subtle nod.

  “As I told you last night, I only know him from the news.”

  “And from the office? You worked in the same building.”

  “A lot of people worked in that building. I didn’t socialize with any of them.”

  “I’m not asking about the rest of the people. I’m asking about Dustin Landis.”

  Downey tapped the table with her pen. “Asked and answered, Detective. Move on.”

  “Did you and Landis have an affair?”

  “Don’t answer that,” the attorney snapped.

  Loretta ignored her. “I most certainly did not. I’ve never met the man.”

  “Mr. Landis happens to be sitting just down the hall,” Baronick said. “I wonder what he’ll say if I ask him about you.”

  “Go ask him then,” Downey said. “But my client has already told you she doesn’t know him. Move on.”

  Baronick withdrew a sheet of paper from the folder he’d placed next to his coffee. Pete edged closer, trying to read it over the detective’s shoulder.

  “Where were you last Monday?”

  “Again. Be more specific.” Downey rested the tip of her pen on her legal pad. “Monday was twenty-four hours long. I’m sure Mrs. Marshall spent her day in more than one place.”

  For the first time, Baronick broke eye contact with Loretta and looked at the attorney. “Now that you mention it, I’d really like an itinerary from your client, showing where she was, hour by hour.”

  Downey smiled coyly. “That isn’t going to happen, Detective.”

  “Okay. Let me narrow it down.” His gaze shifted back to Loretta. “What time were you at Langley’s Dress Shop?”

  Downey held up her pen. “Don’t answer that.”

  Pete had been right about the attorney not permitting her client to respond to their questions. But Baronick didn’t appear discouraged. He picked up the sheet of paper and studied it. “According to employee statements, you entered the store shortly before one o’clock. Gina Wagner had been eating her lunch, but the other sales staff was busy with customers, so she interrupted her meal to offer assistance.”

  Pete eyed the detective. He’d had a busy night.

  Baronick pulled out another paper. “I have a copy of a receipt from your purchases that day, timestamped 2:14.”

  Frown lines formed around Loretta’s mouth.

  Downey twiddled her pen. “I don’t see what my client’s shopping habits have to do with anything.”

  Baronick ignored her and pulled out a USB drive. “I also have a copy of the security footage of you at the front counter checking out. You. And Ms. Wagner. And her soft drink right there between you.”

  Pete managed to maintain his poker face. Had Baronick seen Loretta slipping something into Gina’s beverage mere hours before she got sick? How much was visible on the video?

  Loretta made no move to reply, keeping her lips pressed into a thin, pale line.

  Downy used the non-business end of her pen to scratch her chin. “Forgive me, but I still don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

  Baronick looked at the lawyer. “Ask your client. She knows.”

  Zoe gave Paulette the morning off and had the small, quiet office to herself. Ignoring the still unpacked boxes and the pile of paperwork stacked on the old desk, Zoe reclined in her new chair and studied Franklin’s notes on the Elizabeth Landis case. Pete had already told her the bulk of it.

  Franklin made a strong case that Dustin would not have hidden in the backseat. The DA had made a convincing counterargument, stating it was perfectly logical for him to wish to avoid being seen. Without questioning Franklin on the depth of his beliefs, Zoe had to agree with the prosecution. She closed the file, relieved she wouldn’t have to offer an opinion in court.

  A sharp rap on the closed door made her flinch. She slipped the folder in the desk’s center drawer before rising. “It’s open,” she called.

  Dr. Charles Davis, a briefcase in hand, pushed into the office and stopped to take it in.

  Crap. If she’d known it was him, she’d have pretended to be out. “What can I do for you?”

  He made a face as if the air reeked. “This is the new county coroner’s office?”

  “Temporary office. We’ll be moving into the Courthouse Annex as soon as a space becomes available.”

  “For your sake, I hope that’s soon.”

  Which was about the nicest thing he’d ever said to her. “So do I,” she admitted. “But you didn’t come here to inspect my new digs.”

  “No, I did not.” He made his way around the stacked boxes to stand across the desk from her. “I came bearing gifts.” He set down the briefcase, clicked it open, and retrieved a printed report, which he laid in front of her. But he covered it with one large paw preventing her from reading it.

  “What’s this gonna cost me?” she asked, doubting whatever the report held would be worth it.

  “Can’t I share information out of the goodness of my heart?”

  Skeptical he even had a heart, she pointed at the paper. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t be covering it up.”

  “This is information about Elizabeth Landis.”

  “You’re employed by the defense. I’m testifying for the prosecution. Why on earth would you share information?”

  He lowered his voice. “Because you need me.”

  “No, I don’t. I have Franklin’s notes. And I wasn’t there nine years ago, so I’m limited to only reading his official report.”

  “I don’t mean that.” Davis had a glint in his eyes. “With Franklin gone, you’re the acting coroner until the county gets around to holding a special election.”

  She crossed her arms. “At which point you’ll run against me.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Now she knew the cost attached to this “gift” was way beyond her
price range.

  “Hear me out,” Davis said. “I just lost to Franklin in a very expensive election. The cost of running for office is astronomical. You don’t have that kind of money, and, I admit, I don’t have the cash or the energy to go through it all again.”

  Zoe continued to eye him suspiciously. She wanted to know where he was going with this but not enough to ask. She also knew she wouldn’t have to.

  “You need me. You have good investigative instincts, I’ll grant you that. But you were still under Franklin’s tutelage when he died. You’re not ready to carry the burden of this office on your own.”

  She recognized his flattery as blown smoke, but the rest of it rang true. She didn’t feel ready. Or able. What she felt was overwhelmed.

  “I want a position on your staff.”

  “I already have a forensic pathologist.”

  He waved the hand not holding down the report. “I’m not talking about taking Abercrombie’s job, although I can certainly assist when needed. I want the job of chief deputy.”

  Her suspicions grew. “You wanted to take over Franklin’s job, change the office from a coroner to a medical examiner system…not to mention your promise to fire me because I’m inept…and now you want to work as my deputy?”

  “You’re not inept. That was all political blathering. As for the change to an ME system? I still believe that’s the future of the office. But Monongahela County isn’t ready for it yet.” He leaned closer, his eyes demonically bright. “Yes, I want the job of being your deputy. You need me. I know the job. I know the stress. And I’m gambling that you’re going to burn out. I give you five years. In that time, you’ll either be sick of the job or damned good at it. If it’s the first, I’ll be in a perfect position to take over. If it’s the latter?” He shrugged. “I’ll take credit for your success.”

  Zoe hated that she was even considering his offer. She nodded at the report. “What’s in there?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “If I say no?”

  “Then you are an idiot.”

  “What if I say I want to think about it?”

  “Sorry. This is a limited time offer.”