Mitch reached out, almost grabbing the papers from her hand. Flipping through them quickly, he scanned to see what they reported. Cyanide was found in Dumfries’ body. Glancing through the blood and tissue testing, the report confirmed death by poisoning. Flipping some more, he looked through the initial food testing. Comparing the numbered and tagged bags of food to the report, he read that there were no traces of cyanide in the leftover breakfast food Sam had taken from the garbage, the food in Mr. Dumfries’ room, nor the cobbler. Nor was it in the water bottles in his room. Nor was it in the food that Tori would have used to make breakfast for the guests. So where the hell did it come from?
“Chief, we heard the report came in,” Burt said, standing in his doorway. “The others are in the staffroom. Can we hear what it says?”
“Sure,” Mitch confirmed, standing with the report in his hands, still trying to flip the papers. Moving down the hall, he saw Grant coming in wearing civilian clothes.
“Mildred called and said the report was in, so I hurried over,” Grant explained, sliding into the seat next to Sam. Burt and Mitch sat down, Ginny in between, and Mitch began telling them what he had learned so far.
“So where did Mr. Dumfries ingest the poison?”
Continuing to go through the report, he read which sample the poison was discovered in and then quickly checked the tag numbers. The chicken salad in the refrigerator. Looking up at Sam, he asked, “The chicken salad in the refrigerator? What was it in?”
“Um,” the flustered officer stuttered, “It was um…a plastic container. It was homemade and in a plastic container in her refrigerator. Ms. Bradford told me that it was her personal food and not for the guests.”
“Was the container disturbed? Did it look like anyone had eaten any?”
Sam thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. “Yeah, someone had been in it. It looked like a large amount from the side had been scooped out of the container. I assumed she fixed it for herself and then ate some.”
“The cyanide was in the chicken salad,” Mitch said, his voice as cold as his blood. “She told me she had not had any because she decided to have lunch with some friends instead.”
“So, how did someone try to poison Mr. Dumfries—” Sam began.
“He wasn’t the intended victim,” Ginny stated, as the others caught up to Mitch’s thoughts.
“Oh, fuck, Mitch,” Grant bit out, seeing the Chief already pushing himself from the table, a hard expression on his face.
“Right,” Mitch growled. “Someone was trying to kill Tori!”
Chapter 14
One of the advantages of living in a small town was that it only took Mitch five minutes to pull up in front of the Sea Glass Inn. Jogging up the steps, he barely noticed Ginny and Burt were right behind him. Banging on the door, he glanced over his shoulder, saying, “Is this necessary?”
“Chief, you’re too good an investigator to fuck up a case because you’re involved. We’re here to talk to Tori.”
Just then, the woman in question opened the door, a look of pleasure followed quickly by surprise, crossing her face.
“Uh…hi…everyone. Is there something—”
Mitch moved into her space, forcing her to take a step backwards, allowing Ginny and Burt to follow him in. Once the door was closed, he held on to her shoulders and said, “We’ve gotta talk.”
Her gaze darted among the three and, swallowing deeply, she nodded, turned and led the way silently to the living room. She sat on the sofa, hands clasped in her lap, noting Mitch sitting next to her with Burt and Ginny taking wing back chairs facing them.
“Guys, you’re scaring me. What is it? Was there something in the cobbler? I swear I had nothing to do with Mr. Dumfries’ dea—”
Mitch’s arm was around her shoulder and he gently turned her so she was angled toward him. “Tori, there was nothing in the cobbler. There was nothing in any of the guest rooms either.”
“But—”
“You need to listen carefully, babe.” When he had her attention, he asked, “Tell me about the kitchen and the food in the refrigerator.” Seeing her about to speak, he said, “I know you’ve told me, but Officers Spencer and Tobber need to hear and will ask more questions.”
Sucking in her lips for a moment, she tried to steady her quivering. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Many years ago, when my grandparents ran the Sea Glass Inn, they allowed guests to roam a bit more freely. It was a different time and age…and well, quite frankly, people had a few more social skills.” Licking her lips, she continued, “But about ten years ago, grandma had to make the kitchen off limits. She would shop for her herself or us when we were here or for the next day’s breakfast, only to find guests had raided the kitchen as their own three-meal-a-day place. And sometimes they would eat out of a container and that’s not sanitary. So she created the off-limits area and it made for a better use of our space.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Everyone should know bed and breakfast means just that—breakfast is served, but no other meals. She’d find families would use her food to make lunch to take to the beach or come back from a day at the beach and again, raid the kitchen. So, as much as she hated to add rules, she made it part of the contract. Guests are advised the kitchen is off limits. So is the back patio.”
Looking at Ginny and Burt, she explained, “The guests have the lovely front porch to sit on and another patio off the breakfast sun room. The patio off the kitchen was for our family only.”
“And you said, this is in a contract?” Ginny queried, taking notes.
“Yes, and I have every guest sign the contract as they check in that says they understand the rules. Plus, there is a sign outside the kitchen. We provide mini-refrigerators in each of the four rooms, so they can keep their own snacks. And we provide a snack pantry in the dining room.”
Mitch observed Tori twisting her fingers together and placed his hand over hers.
She whirled around, eyes wide, and said, “Am I in trouble? Is there something I did wrong?”
“No, babe. But let’s keep going over everything first.” He hated the expression of fear in her eyes, but wanted to make sure they covered all bases in the investigation. Nodding jerkily, she looked back to the others.
Burt asked, “Do any of the guests ignore the rules?”
Grimacing, she nodded. “Not too much, because I offer the snack pantry and mini-fridges, but yes, I have to shoo out some guests.” Her eyes bugged wide as she remembered, “In fact, Mr. Dumfries was one of the ones!”
The officers’ eyes jumped to hers. “Tell us,” Ginny demanded gently.
“He was in the kitchen twice and both times I shooed him out. He was nice about it, but I was very irritated when I caught him the second time.” She thought for a moment and said, “It’s probably due to his wife’s restrictions.”
“What do you mean?”
“He told me he’d been to the doctor and well, as you could see, he was overweight. So she had him on a low-salt, low-carb diet, and he was most grumpy.”
Ginny said, “Can you tell me about anything you noticed him getting into?”
Cocking her head to the side, Tori tried to remember specifics. “Its hard to recall what exactly he got into. I’ve been so busy lately I hardly remember what was there.”
“Just tell us what you can. The food that you’ve had recently, for example. When was it made? Who made it? Who was it for? That kind of thing,” Ginny clarified.
“Oh, well, um…I made chicken salad two days ago, it was supposed to be for my lunch but I went out and met some friends instead.”
Mitch, wanting her to be exact, prompted, “So who exactly was the chicken salad for? Did you make a large amount to serve the guests, saving some for yourself for later?”
Twisting around to face him, her face scrunched in confusion. “No. I made it. It was for me. Just me. I only prepare breakfast for the guests…and certainly not chicken salad. I can tell you exactly what I made for the guests for br
eakfast and what was left for snacks, but that’s all I’m sure of. I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t remember all the contents of my fridge, only what I made myself.”
“Hang with us, please,” Ginny said, her voice softening.
Dropping her chin to her chest, Tori willed her breathing to steady. She felt Mitch’s strong hand on her shoulders, rubbing some of the tension out.
Finally, raising her head back up, she said, “Everything in the refrigerator was for me. The eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese…all of these things were used for the breakfasts, but then I ate them also. I keep those things on hand all the time. I made the chicken salad and that was two days ago, but had not had a chance to eat a bite.”
“Do you know if anyone else ate it?”
“I…well, I…uh, I don’t know. I didn’t look at it before Officer Stubbis took the plastic container away,” she admitted. “I can tell you that I didn’t eat any and none of the guests were supposed to. So if someone did, then—” Gasping, she jerked out of Mitch’s hand and jumped from the sofa. “Oh, my God. You’re trying to tell me Mr. Dumfries ate some of my food and the poison was in it! And the only thing I made was salad so . . .” Whirling back around to Mitch, she said, “You think I poisoned him with my food! But I swear I had no idea—”
Mitch stalked over, placing his hands on her shoulders again, and said, “No, Tori. If you fixed the salad and it was for you only then no one would use it to poison Mr. Dumfries. That means whoever put the poison in the chicken salad wasn’t after him…” He let the horrible words die on his tongue as he watched helplessly as dawning slowly came to Tori.
“Me?” she squeaked. “Me? You think someone wanted to poison me?” Her voice rose with each word and Mitch quickly pulled her into his embrace. “Babe, I swear, we’ll find out who did this.” He locked eyes with Ginny and Burt over Tori’s head and they knew he was making a vow for all of them.
*
Mitch, back in the police station, stewed as he stared at the large board hanging on the wall in the staff room. Mr. Dumfries’ picture had now been moved to the side and a picture of Tori was front and center. As the other officers worked on various angles at their desks, he stared at the picture, his heart not willing to accept what his mind was telling him; and that was the woman he was falling for was in danger. He did not need to look down at the notes in the file on the table in front of him. The interview with Tori was burned into his brain.
As they had continued her interview, Burt asked who would benefit from her death and as much as I knew we needed to know, I hated the expression on Tori’s face.
“I…I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Let’s start with your ex-husband,” Ginny suggested.
Shaking her head, Tori replied, “We’re divorced completely. I got a settlement from the house when it sold, but I didn’t even want alimony. I wanted nothing of his. I had a job while we were married and made decent money. Thomas didn’t want his indiscretion to become public, so we had an arbiter come up with an equitable division of our money when we divorced. We basically just walked away. My death would gain him nothing.”
I hated to bring her up, but I said, “You need to tell them about your sister and her visit two days ago.”
She pinched her lips together tightly, but admitted, “Vanessa is…well, not a very nice person and a pain in my ass, but she’d never try to kill me!”
“Just tell us what you know about her,” Burt prodded.
“She hasn’t been to Baytown since she graduated from high school, except for grandma’s funeral when she popped in and out as quickly as possible. She showed up on my door, two mornings ago, and grumbled about me getting the inn. Grandma settled money and bonds on her in the will, but I got full ownership of the Sea Glass Inn.”
“Any chance she can contest the will?”
Shaking her head, Tori added, “I’ve checked with the attorney, Mr. Benfield, and he says grandma’s will was simple, direct, and no one would win if they tried to argue against it.”
I looked at Tori and realized her mind had not even begun down the path that the other three of us were thinking. Damn, this is fucked! “Tori,” I said, pulling her attention back to me. “If you die, without a will, then your property would be divided amongst your relatives.”
“I’ve talked to Mr. Benfield,” Tori admitted. “Since my mom is still living, it would go to her.”
“Do you see your mom wanting to deal with the Inn? If Vanessa wanted it, how difficult would it be for her to get her hands on it?”
Tori’s face fell as her shoulders slumped. “Mom would give it to her in a heartbeat, although what she would do with it is a mystery!”
The group was quiet as I watched Tori’s face contort before she lifted her gaze, pinning me with her stare. “Mitch, there’s no way Vanessa would try to kill me.”
“Honey, you don’t know tha—”
“Yes, I do,” she argued. “First of all, she may be a bitch, but she’s not going to kill me. She doesn’t hate me…she’s just an unhappy person who doesn’t like to see anyone else happy. Second, she’s not that smart! She’d have no idea how to go about poisoning someone and then actually doing it!”
I glanced at Burt and Ginny, silently warning them not to say anything else, and was grateful when they took their leave. Holding Tori in my embrace, I kissed the top of her head. “Babe, we need to get you moved out of here.”
Her head jerked back, bumping my chin. “Out? I’m not leaving!”
“Someone wants you dead,” I argued back, wanting her to listen to reason. The argument lasted for several minutes before I finally realized that barring me throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her off, she was not going to leave. With a call to Jillian to come stay with her for the afternoon, earning me a glare from Tori, I left to go back to the station.
“So, what’s next Chief?” Sam asked, walking into the staff room, leaning against the table along side of me to stare at the board.
Before I could answer, Burt, Grant, and Ginny came in as well.
“Right now, stick to basics. Motive, Means, and Opportunity.”
“Opportunity is the hard one,” Grant said. “During the day, when Tori is around, anyone could get into her kitchen. Guests, someone who walks in since she doesn’t always keep the front door locked. It’s on the website which areas are for guests and which is off limits. Her food rules are also there, so anyone could easily discern that what is in the kitchen is for her consumption. I also found the sliding glass door leading from the patio to the kitchen is sometimes kept unlocked. Her back yard is fenced, so she probably feels safe.”
“Jesus,” Mitch growled, deciding a discussion with Tori about security was overdue.
“I’ve written down a timeline from when she made the chicken salad and placed it in the refrigerator until the time that Mr. Dumfries died,” Ginny stated, taping the printed information on the board.
“So she made it in the evening for the next day’s lunch and was not out of the house after that until the next morning. She claims by that time, the house was locked and secure for the night. Her ex, Thomas, shows up the next morning and by curious coincidence, her estranged sister, Vanessa, comes by later in the day. Since the back door may not have been locked, there was opportunity there and the sister certainly had motive.” Mitch looked at the group and said, “I’ll be heading to Virginia Beach first thing in the morning. Burt, you go with me to interview Vanessa.”
“What about her ex?” Ginny asked.
“Don’t know,” Mitch admitted, “but I’d like you to follow up on him. Stay here and dig up whatever you can on the suspects. Finances. Businesses. Burt and I’ll take a trip to Williamsburg and interview him as well. Sam, check out Tori’s house and back yard, and talk to the neighbors to find out what they could see. Grant, follow up on the cyanide and see where it may have come from.” Glancing up, he noted Grant’s raised eyebrows and said, “I know. It could have come from anywhere, but see i
f the lab has any indications. Let’s meet back here tomorrow afternoon and see what we’ve got.”
Mitch watched as the others filed out of the room then shifted his gaze back to the board, hoping something would jump out at him.
Chapter 15
Brogan and Aiden looked up from behind the bar as Tori and Jillian walked in that evening. As Tori took a look at their tight-jawed expressions, she knew Mitch had already told them of his findings. Great, first the town hears rumors that my food killed a guest, and now someone is trying to kill me.
Forcing her lips into a semblance of a smile, she proceeded to the bar.
“Nuh uh,” Brogan growled, causing her to stop in her tracks. He prowled around the bar and motioned for the two women to follow him. Curious, if somewhat dutiful, they did. Finn’s had a small room near the back that was part of the pub or could be used for small parties, and Katelyn was already there putting plates of sliders and wings on the table before turning and pulling Tori into a hug.
Before she could sit, Brogan placed his large hand on her shoulder and bent to focus directly into her eyes. “We got you, girl. We know Mitch has to be out looking for the killer but, while he’s not with you, one of us will be.”
“Brogan, I’m sur—”
“Nope, not another word. You might not have grown up all the time in Baytown, but you were part of us then and part of us now. We take care of our own.”
He turned and walked back to the bar, glaring at any of the townspeople that got in his way.
“Wow, I think that’s more than I’ve heard him say at one time in…forever,” Jillian commented, staring after their friend.
Before Tori could process the changes in her life, Katelyn hustled back with a huge plate of cheese fries. “It’s times like this that call for calories and beer,” Katelyn pronounced, “and Finn’s has an abundance of both!”
Coming Home: Baytown Boys Series Page 12