A narrow door at the end of the hall was partially open, a curving flight of stairs visible through the opening.
Justin’s escape route for a quick smoke.
“No, he couldn’t have,” Janie said, but not believing her own words, she headed toward the stairs with Sam and Nell in close pursuit. The stairs wound upward to the second floor and the closed door that opened into Martin Seltzer’s apartment. From there the staircase narrowed and grew steep, twisting around like a belfry passage, until finally a door appeared with a sliver of light falling onto the wooden step.
“It’s open,” Janie whispered, then pushed it wider and stepped out into daylight.
The widow’s walk was postcard perfect, a wooden platform surrounded by an ornate white railing. In the distance clouds billowed and puffed over a whitecapped sea, gulls floated overhead, their wings moving in slow motion, and the sounds of traffic were a muted hum in the background. In the center of the walk was a raised garden, tilled and weeded, filled with lush spiky plants.
And on the other side of the garden, lying in the sun, was Red.
Janie ran around the herb garden to the sleepy dog. “Red, you silly old dog, you worried us,” she cried, relief rushing her words.
Sam yelled down to Izzy that Red was fine, they’d be down in a second, then walked over to Nell. She was standing at the edge of the roof, looking down over the town of Sea Harbor. It lay at their feet like a tapestry. “Breathtaking,” she murmured.
On the other side of the widow’s walk, Janie was kneeling next to the dog, peering into his eyes, a deep frown on her forehead. Red pushed himself up, then wobbled toward Nell and Sam, his tail moving back and forth against the raised garden wall. “Something’s wrong with him,” Janie said. “His eyes are droopy. I think he’s sick.”
“Red?” Sam walked over to his side and crouched down, holding the dog’s nose in his palm. “You okay, boy?”
Red’s tail flapped, but his feet didn’t seem to move in harmony, and he stumbled once, then continued walking toward the rooftop door. Sam followed close behind, watching him carefully as he made his way across the widow’s walk. Just before he reached the door, his head dropped low and he gagged slightly, as if he was going to vomit. But he recovered and made it to the door.
Nell looked over at the garden. “I think he’s been eating the herbs.”
Sam looked over, frowned, then picked the dog up in his arms and carried him down two stories to the clinic offices.
Lily and Izzy were waiting. “He’s sick,” Sam said, and followed Lily into an empty examining room.
Martin Seltzer came hurrying down the hallway. “You found him,” he said, then stopped short as he looked into the room at the woozy dog. “Where was he?”
“On the roof,” Lily said, grabbing a slender flashlight and shining it into Red’s eyes.
Martin paled, then moved around Izzy and Sam and gently moved Lily out of the way. He took the flashlight from her and looked into the dog’s mouth, checked his eyes, and finally released the breath trapped in his chest. “He’ll be okay. I’ll watch him for a bit, just to be sure.” He looked toward the hallway, where a worried Janie stood. “Janie, would you please get him a bowl of water?”
Janie rushed off.
Lily stared at Martin. “What is it? What’s wrong with him?”
For a long, awkward minute, Martin stared back at Lily, as if her questions were an affront to him. At first his look had an edge of anger about it. But that faded almost instantly, and his long face grew longer.
“He’ll be fine after a while. It wasn’t that much.”
“Exactly what wasn’t that much? What made him sick?”
Martin’s answer was firm, but his words short and heavy. “He ate a few cannabis leaves.”
Chapter 26
For a long moment the only sound in the office was Red’s heavy panting, then the thump of his tail as he basked in the attention all around him.
Then voices were raised, with Izzy’s being the loudest.
“Pot? My dog ate pot?” she said in disbelief.
“He couldn’t have eaten much,” Martin said, his efficient, professional manner returning as he brushed Red’s fur with his palm, caressing him gently, his fingers gently prying open his mouth. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”
Lily stood near the wall, immobile, her eyes on the older doctor, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Finally she asked, “You were growing cannabis on the roof?”
“A small plot,” he answered, his eyes remaining fixed on Red.
Izzy and Sam looked at each other. Awkwardness as thick as Red’s coat settled on the room, blocking out the air.
Janie walked into the silence carrying a bowl of water. She looked around, handed it to Martin, and hurried back out.
Nell followed her into the hallway. The rush of fresh air cooled her face and slowed her heartbeat.
Janie watched her in silence, her arms crossed.
“Red will be fine,” Nell said finally. “Really fine.”
“Did he say pot?” Janie asked. Her eyes filled her entire face. “Is that what he said, Nell?”
Nell nodded. And all around them, puzzle pieces crashed to the floor with a deafening roar, a sound so loud Nell had an irrational urge to press her palms against her ears to block it out.
• • •
They left the clinic a short while later, once Martin assured them that Red was fine to ride in the car. He said to give him plenty of water and not to worry if he didn’t want to eat today.
The older doctor seemed to know what he was talking about; no one questioned him.
Sam followed Izzy and Nell in his car as they headed to the Endicotts’. Nell had called ahead and suggested Ben start mixing up a batch of martinis. They were on their way home and it had been a long day.
Cass was there when they arrived, asking Ben’s advice on a new business plan for the Halloran Lobster Company—but she tossed it aside quickly in favor of hearing about a long day that called for martinis.
The sound of Nell’s voice, Ben had said, indicated something was up.
After assuring them that everything was fine with baby Perry, they all gathered in the comfortable chairs surrounding the old wooden coffee table. Ben had done his due diligence and it now held napkins, cheese and pita bread, a plate of olives and pickles.
Nell kissed him soundly. “Perfect,” she said.
“Okay, I can’t stand the suspense,” Cass said. “Spill everything. She slipped off her sandals and pulled her feet up beneath her on the slipcovered chair.
Sam began, filling them in on Red’s adventure at the clinic.
Red, for his part, curled up at Izzy’s feet, happy and content with the bowl of water Nell had brought him.
Cass was stunned at the story, Ben circumspect. But both found it rather astounding that there was a crop of cannabis growing on the Virgilio Clinic’s roof.
“I’m sure both Martin and Lily’s first thought was Red. But once they knew he was going to be okay, what did they say? How did they explain it all?” Ben asked.
“Dr. Seltzer said very little,” Nell said.
“And Dr. Lily didn’t say much, either, ” Izzy said. “At least not while we were there. They didn’t refer to the garden or how it got there, except to acknowledge that Red must have eaten flowers from the plants. It was clear the garden was a total surprise to Lily.”
“Sam, Janie, and I found Red asleep, right next to the plants,” Nell said. “The dots practically connected themselves. No one questioned what caused his wobbly demeanor.”
“But volumes were being spoken in the looks that passed between Lily and Seltzer. You could almost see sparks flying across the room,” Sam said. He began spreading wedges of pita bread with Brie.
“But the thing that rang bells and shouted out at us was what was really going on up there. Justin Dorsey’s frequent travels to the roof weren’t just to smoke cigarettes—he was going up there to fill his orde
rs for Tyler Gibson and friends,” Izzy said. “Martin Seltzer was his supplier.”
Nell frowned. “Well, not exactly. I think that’s where Justin got it, but I doubt if Martin gave it to him. He disliked Justin intensely and was adamant that he leave the clinic, be fired, disappear. The force of his dislike surprised me at the time. It somehow didn’t seem merited by his claims that Justin was lazy and snooped around too much. But this sheds light on it. The reason he was desperate to get rid of Justin was that he was stealing from him.”
“That makes sense, Aunt Nell. Dr. Seltzer knew what Justin was doing, but he couldn’t tell Lily because he didn’t want her to know about the garden. So instead he tried to get Justin fired for other reasons.”
“But kindhearted Lily kept giving him more chances, so he kept taking more pot,” Cass said.
“So . . . ,” Cass said, nibbling on a cornichon. “So what recourse did Dr. Seltzer have left?”
Ben leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, trying to think through the situation objectively. “Moving too quickly can be dangerous. Think about it. Did Martin say the garden was his? If not, how do you know that it is? Maybe he’s covering for someone else who works there? It could even be Janie who planted it or someone who works in the family practice with Doc Hamilton in the family clinic? I was in for a checkup recently and he has a new crew of nurses and assistants, even a medical student doing a summer internship.” He poured several martinis and passed them around. “Jumping to conclusions can be dangerous.”
They fell into silence, replaying the scene in their minds as they considered Ben’s comment. Somehow, being there at the clinic, the deduction had been obvious. But when Ben questioned it objectively in the calmness of their home—none of them had an answer.
And then Sam shook his head. “No, it had to have been Martin’s. I’m sure of it. Body language, if nothing else. It was obvious Lily didn’t know about the plants and didn’t recognize the symptoms Red had. Martin did. As soon as he heard where Red had been, he knew immediately what had happened.”
Nell and Izzy agreed.
“Here’s something else,” Nell said, thinking back over recent conversations with Martin. “Gus McClucken told me what a good gardener Martin was, only buying the best materials. At the time I was curious about where his garden was. He isn’t over at the community garden, and there isn’t enough yard around the clinic for a garden—most of what was the yard is now a parking lot.” She thought back over the conversation they’d had, standing there with Henrietta O’Neal. “He used organic fertilizer,” Gus said.
“And that’s what Tyler said.” Cass sat forward, excited now. “He said Justin said the stuff was organic.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “If you’re right, quiet Martin Seltzer was growing cannabis on the roof of the clinic.” He rubbed three fingers against his cheek the way he did when trying to figure something out. He topped off Sam’s martini, then poured Izzy some lemonade.
“Martin Seltzer,” Nell murmured.
“He hated Justin,” Izzy said.
But no one wanted to push it to the next step, although it was on everyone’s mind.
“Okay, I’ll ask it,” Cass said. “Did Martin Seltzer kill Justin? Was that the only way he could keep him from stealing—and maybe revealing—his little hobby?”
Izzy looked down at Red. Then she looked around at the circle of faces. “But he was so good with Red,” she said. “He likes him.”
No one answered.
Maybe he liked dogs—and not much else.
“I think we need to leave our emotions out of the equation,” Nell said. “Except for Henrietta O’Neal—and maybe Gus McClucken—Martin didn’t seem to have many friends here. But we can’t jump to conclusions. I’ve often found Martin intimidating, but I think it’s simply that he’s not talkative. Maybe shyness, I don’t know. I saw a hint of humor in him the other day. Also, it’s difficult to imagine that anyone in Lily’s clinic would be guilty of something so awful.”
“It’s difficult to think anyone in Sea Harbor is capable of doing anything so awful,” Cass said. “That’s why we keep walking into walls. We don’t want this bad guy to be anyone we know.”
Ben took a deep breath. When he started to talk, it was with the same clear, cogent tone he used to help boards formulate new mission statements or business plans. Clear, calm, precise. “We need to call Jerry Thompson in on this,” he said. “He needs to know about the garden, the relationships, the animosity between the two men. He may know some of that from interviews he’s done with Justin’s coworkers. But I doubt if he knows about the garden on the roof. It’s tied so closely to Justin, all of it. It may be the break he’s been waiting for.”
Of course it was, but the idea of casting suspicion on Lily’s wonderful clinic was an ugly thought.
“Any hypotheses about how Horace Stevenson fits into this?” Cass asked.
“I always thought Horace was a bit removed from Sea Harbor, but more and more I’m realizing that a lot of people knew him. Lots of people stopped to talk to him—”
“He guarded that beach religiously,” Cass said. “It isn’t too far a jump to imagine that Horace heard things going on in Paley’s Cove, things that might incriminate whoever killed Justin.”
The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled them into quiet.
Nell got up quickly, nearly stumbling over Red on her way to the door. Talk of murder seemed to sharpen nerves, even in the calm peace of the Endicott family room.
Lily Virgilio stood on the step, her hair slightly mussed. Her face was pale.
“It’s been a rough day, Lily,” Nell said, giving her a slight hug and ushering her inside.
Lily attempted a response but settled for a nod and a small smile.
She walked into the family room, apologizing for the interruption as she looked around at the sea of faces. “But I’m glad you’re all here.”
Her eyes sought out Izzy and Sam. “Janie overheard you say you were coming here—”
It was then that she spotted Red at Izzy’s feet and quickly knelt down beside him, rubbing his head.
“How is he?”
“Fine.” Izzy smiled. “He’s really fine. Come sit, Dr. Lily.”
“Lily, please call me Lily,” she said. She looked around the room and tried to muster a smile. “Although I imagine there are more colorful names you might want to call me today.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Nell said, and patted the cushion next to her. “Sit with us.”
Ben put a drink in her hand. “First, relax. Then we’ll call names,” he said with a smile.
Lily’s responding smile was short-lived. “I’m not sure how to start, but there are a few things I need to say. You all deserve an explanation.”
“Well, it was definitely an interesting afternoon,” Nell said, trying to lighten the discussion. “And—at least in the case of Red—all’s well that end’s well.”
“Yes,” Lily said. “And if this kind of scene was destined to play out at the clinic, I’m fortunate it was with people like you—understanding and generous people—and I hope that what I’m going to say will . . . will make some kind of sense to you.”
She glanced down at Red, held his eyes briefly, then went on, as if the golden retriever had given her the push she needed. “I’ve burst in like this for a few reasons. I think I counted three on the drive over, though you never know—by the time I’m through that number may have grown.” A quick smile came and went.
“First, I owe you a profound apology for what happened to Red.” She looked at Izzy. “Having your dog get sick in your own doctor’s office is not something one expects to happen, nor should it.”
She took a sip of her drink, then set the glass back on the table and continued. “Second, I want to promise you that this won’t happen again. Ever. To anyone. It will be taken care of.” Her voice dropped and she looked again at Red.
There seemed to be more of a message than the words detailed. It will be take
n care of. The garden will be dug up? Or a lock put on the door. Or no dogs allowed in the clinic? Or . . . Dr. Seltzer will be fired?
But Lily didn’t elaborate.
She was quiet for so long that Nell wondered if she had said what she came to say. That was it. It was only two things, but the poor woman looked spent, as if she wanted nothing more than for the day to end.
Just as Nell was about to suggest more crackers and cheese, Lily began again.
“There’s one more thing. This last thing . . . it’s a favor, really. An enormous favor. And I would never be so presumptuous to ask it if it weren’t so important to me—and if I didn’t consider you friends.”
They looked at her with concern and warmth—and curiosity. Lily was a fine person, one they respected and liked. Of course they’d help her in any way they could.
Until she asked.
“I’m asking you to keep what happened this afternoon quiet. To not speak of it to anyone, including the police.”
The only sound in the room was the ticking of Ben’s parents’ grandfather clock in the front hallway, its echo suddenly louder than a church bell.
Ben cleared his throat, looked down at his hands thoughtfully, measuring his words. Finally he spoke. “I wasn’t there today, Lily, so I’m probably not among those you’re really here to speak to, at least not directly. But what was discovered at the clinic today—the garden on your roof, the marijuana plants—is important. You have to know that the police will need to know about the garden. Not because Red indulged himself. And not because it’s there, above your clinic. That wouldn’t be any of our business under normal circumstances.
“But these aren’t normal circumstances. It’s more than likely that Justin Dorsey stole from those plants and passed the goods along.” He paused, then nailed down the lid of the coffin, causing all of them to wince. “And then Justin Dorsey was murdered.”
Lily didn’t wince. She was quiet, letting Ben finish. Only her face, as white as the Brie rind on the cheese plate, reflected her agony.
“This may be an important piece of a murder investigation. The police have to know.”
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