“I don’t know,” I said helplessly, seeing the panicked look on Big Bill’s face. “Does anybody know the number for the poison control center?” Then I remembered. “Liz! Somebody find Clifford’s girlfriend Liz. She’s a nurse—she’ll know what to do.”
Liz must have heard the commotion, because she showed up then. “What did he drink?”
“Isopropanol,” I answered.
“Rubbing alcohol? Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. The symptoms fit. He’s acting drunk even though he’s only had one glass of champagne.”
“Mr. Walters, have you had any other alcohol to drink tonight?” Liz asked in a clear voice.
He shook his head.
“Okay, then. We’re going to get you a glass of water to drink while we wait for the ambulance.”
I was going to send somebody to fetch the water, but I didn’t know who I could trust. So I ran to the kitchen myself, ignoring the sea of wide, frightened eyes that surrounded me. I grabbed the biggest glass I could find from the cabinet, filled it from the tap, and rushed back to Big Bill.
Liz was taking his pulse, and in a pitiful voice Big Bill asked, “Am I going to die?”
“No, sir, not if I can help it,” Liz said firmly. “You just hang on.” She took the glass from me and held it so Big Bill could drink. “Keep it coming,” she said.
Richard was there by then, and said, “I’ll get more.”
As Big Bill drank, Aunt Maggie stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder, watching the people in the room. I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking it, too. Somebody there had tried to kill Big Bill. Again.
Big Bill was on his third glass of water when the ambulance arrived, and Liz efficiently informed the attendants of the situation. The rest of us stood back as they started an IV and loaded Big Bill onto a stretcher. Burt, who’d come to stand by his father, said, “Daddy? I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Big Bill said. “Just Maggie.”
I could see the hurt in Burt’s eyes, but all he said was, “All right. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Then he looked around for his wife. “Dorcas, you stay and take care of things here. I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”
Dorcas nodded and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he turned to go. It was probably the first real sign of affection I’d seen between them all night.
People moved out of the way for the ambulance attendants to wheel Big Bill away, with Liz, Aunt Maggie, and Burt following. As they left, Junior Norton came in with her deputy Belva. When Junior spotted her brother Trey, who was a part-time deputy, she told him to follow the ambulance to the hospital and stay with Big Bill. Then she surveyed the room.
Junior and Belva made an interesting team. Junior was short, and Belva tall. Junior was trim, and though Belva wasn’t fat, she was bulky. But even though Junior was the smaller of the two, it was obvious from the way she moved that she was in charge. She’d been young when she became Byerly’s chief of police, but she came from a long line of police chiefs, and that gave her a lot of the authority she carried like some cops carry a gun.
“Okay, people,” she said, “I’ve got some questions to ask—let’s keep it calm and this won’t take long.”
“The bottle!” I said, suddenly remembering. “The rubbing alcohol bottle. It’s on the kitchen counter.”
“Hold on a minute,” Junior said. “Belva, you stay in here and keep an eye on folks. Don’t let anybody leave.”
“You got it, chief.”
“Laurie Anne, lead the way.”
I did, but the bottle was nowhere in sight when we got to the kitchen.
“Damn, damn, damn,” I said. “I should have grabbed it, but I was helping with Big Bill.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” Junior said patiently. “Assume I wasn’t here when it happened, because I wasn’t.”
“Sorry, Junior.” I explained everything that had happened since I’d gone to change Alice’s diaper, including the facts that I’d seen a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the kitchen counter before, and that I’d seen somebody leaving the room in a hurry.
“But you don’t know who it was?” Junior asked.
I shook my head. “At first I thought it was Miz Duffield, but that’s just because she was the one who sent me to the utility room to change Alice. I didn’t actually see her, or anybody else.”
“And just from looking at that bottle, you knew that Big Bill had been poisoned?” Junior said doubtfully. “Kind of a stretch, if you ask me.”
I bristled. “Maybe so, but the symptoms fit, and Liz thinks I’m right.”
“You just happened to know what happens when somebody drinks rubbing alcohol?”
“It’s because of the parent magazines Richard and I have been reading,” I explained. “One of them had articles about common household dangers, including isopropanol.”
“I thought you said it was rubbing alcohol.”
“I did. Isopropanol is the same thing as rubbing alcohol. It’s in a lot of aftershaves and cleaning solutions, too. Anyway, the article said what the symptoms are, and when Big Bill started acting funny after drinking his champagne, I put two and two together.”
“Pretty smart work,” Junior said, “but I’m surprised you thought of poison right off, and not a stroke or something like that. Unless you expected somebody to try to kill Big Bill, of course.”
I hesitated. Though I thought Big Bill should have reported the attempts on his life right way, I wasn’t sure I should go against his wishes. Then again, Junior already knew that there was no way that rubbing alcohol could have gotten into Big Bill’s goblet accidentally. Besides which, it wasn’t fair to let her go into the case blind. So finally I said, “You’ll want to talk to Aunt Maggie and Big Bill, because I don’t know the details, but I do know that Big Bill is worried about some things that have happened.” I briefly described the incidents, concluding with, “Of course, they could all have been accidents.”
“Is there any particular reason that Big Bill hasn’t told me about these accidents himself?”
There was no way I was going to repeat my idea that Big Bill suspected his son. Big Bill would have to tell her, or she’d have to figure it out for herself. “Because he’s Big Bill,” was all I would say.
From the way Junior looked at me, I could tell she knew I was holding something back, but she let it pass. “All right. What did this bottle look like?”
“Just a regular bottle,” I said. “I didn’t pick it up or anything.”
“Brand name? Color?”
“I didn’t notice the brand, but it was brown. A plastic bottle, not glass.”
“That’s something to look for.”
“Where do we look first?”
“We don’t. I’ll look while you go back in with the others.” Before I could argue with her, she said, “Laurie Anne, I’ve got a house-full of people out there, and some of them are pretty big wheels in this town. They aren’t going to be happy when Belva won’t let them leave, so I need to do this just as fast as I can, without having to keep an eye on you. Now if you should happen to overhear anything suspicious in there, I’d be glad to hear about it later.”
That was more like it. “You got it, chief,” I said, and headed back into the living room.
Chapter 6
It seemed odd to me that the same people were in the same room, still dressed up in their glad rags, but the gathering looked nothing like the party that had been going on just a little while before. Partially it was because it was more crowded—Belva had herded everybody in from outside. Partially it was because nobody was going near the refreshment tables. But mostly it was because of the way people had divided themselves and were looking suspiciously at one another. The game Richard and I had been playing earlier seemed kind of creepy now. I didn’t think it was an accident that the Burnette crew had ended up on one side of the room, with the Walterses’ friends on the other. Tavis Montgomery was the only one who
seemed willing to cross the great divide—I guess he figured that a Burnette’s vote was as good as anybody’s. I looked around for the man with the funny dent in his head, wondering which side he’d ended up on, but didn’t see him.
Junior came out then to confer with Belva, and then started taking people into the Oriental study to question them. I noticed that the Walters contingent pushed forward immediately, and have to admit that I resented their assumption that they’d get to go home first.
Richard had gotten Alice from the triplets and was sitting on a chair jiggling her on his knee, which almost certainly meant that she was hungry. I checked my watch, realized how long it had been, and went over to him. Some things took precedence over detective work.
“Feeding time?” I asked him.
“And how,” he said, standing up to let me take the chair. He stood where he could shield me while I got my blouse unbuttoned, and then handed me Alice. The poor little thing grabbed hold of me as if she hadn’t eaten in months. I could have gotten Junior to let us go somewhere more private to nurse, but since I was hoping to do a little eavesdropping, I didn’t even ask. On those occasions when I’d nursed Alice in public, I’d noticed that people tended to talk over me as if I weren’t there—maybe that would help me overhear something useful.
It might have worked, too, if it hadn’t been for Vasti. I’d just finished telling Richard what I’d told Junior when she stepped past him and said, “You’re not still nursing that baby, are you?”
“She just got started,” I said indignantly.
“I mean, why haven’t you got her on a bottle yet? Isn’t she eating solid food?”
“We’re working on it,” I said defensively. “She eats cereal in the morning and baby food at dinner.” Then I reminded myself that I didn’t have to answer to Vasti. “Besides, the doctor says it’s healthy to nurse a baby for the first year.”
“A year?” She rolled her eyes. “Doctors! What do they know? A bunch of men who probably don’t even know how to change a diaper.”
“My doctor is a woman.”
“Oh, I’d never go to a woman doctor,” she said, with complete disregard for logic. “You’re not really going to breastfeed for a solid year, are you?”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “I expect it will be too hard once I go back to work.”
Vasti gasped theatrically. “You’re going back to work? When you’ve got a baby?”
I started trying to explain how Richard and I needed my income, and that we’d found a wonderful day-care provider, and that Richard himself would do a lot of the parenting during the summer, but Vasti was too busy being appalled to listen. Normally I let the worst of Vasti’s comments roll off me like water off a duck’s back, but this time it was harder. The idea of leaving Alice with somebody else didn’t thrill me, either.
Various other Burnette women heard the discussion and came over to join in, which reminded me just what the term “old wives’ tales” means. I had to hear when each of their children had been weaned, started on solid foods, and cut their first teeth, plus advice on how to get Alice to attain those milestones as soon as possible. Then there were debates as to whether a child as young as Alice should be in day care. I had to grit my teeth during most of it—I’ve never been good at taking advice, no matter how well meant.
The only reason they stopped telling me how to raise my child was because Vasti said, “Can we talk about something important now? Laurie Anne, you and Richard are going to find out who tried to kill Uncle Big Bill, aren’t you?” Being Vasti, she’d spoken so loudly that everybody in the room heard her.
I sighed. So much for covert eavesdropping. When I finally got Alice fed, I did try to wander over toward people on the Walters side of the room, acting as if I were trying to get Alice to burp, but after Vasti’s announcement, conversation stopped the second I got close enough to hear anybody.
Richard, who’d escaped during the seminar on motherhood, came back to find me. “Anything?” he asked.
“Not after Vasti shot her big mouth off.”
“Don’t blame her. I started sneaking around even before she blew the gaff, but people avoided me with great determination. I think our reputation as Byerly’s premier crime solvers has preceded us.”
Maybe I should have been complimented, but mostly I was annoyed. It didn’t help that Junior was clearly giving Richard and me a chance to work, because she left the interview with us for absolute last. Alice had long since fallen asleep on my shoulder, and I’d nearly done the same on Richard’s, when Junior finally came out to talk to us.
The first thing she told us was that she’d checked on Big Bill and that it looked as if he was going to be just fine.
Then I had to tell her that I hadn’t found out a darn thing she could use. “I wish we had something for you,” I said apologetically.
“That’s all right. I don’t expect you to do my job for me. Though I expect that’s what you’re planning to do.”
“I am not,” I said.
Junior just gave me a look.
“Okay, maybe I am, but it’s not because you’re not good at it.”
“I know, I know. It’s because it’s your family. Laurie Anne, why is it that you’re the only one who has to be convinced that you’re going to get involved when something like this happens. Everybody else knows you’re going to.”
“I just hate to be so predictable.”
“Well, now we both know you’re going to be running around asking questions, and since you’re related to Big Bill, you might hear things that people wouldn’t tell me for love or money. Naturally, I’m going to be investigating, too, and I’ve got access to information you don’t have. Chemical tests and fingerprints and all. You wouldn’t be interested in that stuff.”
“Junior…”
She just grinned. “Seriously, you and I work differently. If I hadn’t known it before, I knew it after last Christmas. So I’ll go my way, while you and Richard can go yours, and if y’all get anything I can use, y’all let me know. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said, and we shook on it. Junior and I had come a long way since I’d had to talk her into investigating a case, or she’d tried to talk me out of it. Her only interest was in putting the bad guys away, and competition didn’t seem to come into it. That’s one of the reasons she was a real cop while I was just an eager amateur.
“Speaking of police methods, have you found out anything?” Richard asked.
“Not a doggone thing,” she said wearily. “Nobody admits to pouring Big Bill’s champagne—as many people as there were milling around, our poisoner was either mighty lucky or mighty careful. Since nobody else got sick, we’re guessing the isopropanol went into the goblet, not the bottle, but that’s about all we know.”
“What about Aunt Maggie’s goblet?” I told her about Aunt Maggie switching to iced tea. “Was her champagne poisoned, too?”
Junior made a face. “I don’t know if even the folks at the lab will be able to tell us that. Miz Duffield washed the goblet out before Big Bill got ill—she’s mighty irritated that she can’t start washing up the rest of this mess.” She shook her head. “The lab isn’t going to be too happy with me, either. I’ve got Belva bagging and tagging every glass and champagne bottle she can find.”
I probably shouldn’t have asked the next question, because it wasn’t any of my business; but I was curious. After making sure Belva wasn’t close enough to hear, I said, “How did you come to hire Belva? I got the impression you didn’t care for her.” Belva and Junior’s former deputy had slugged it out over a previous case, and Junior had said then she thought Belva was lazy, and none too bright. I hadn’t liked her much myself, mostly because she’d accused Aunt Maggie of stirring up trouble.
Junior shrugged. “Belva started out pretty green, but she’s learned a lot, and I think it’s going to work out. I just wish she’d quit calling me ‘Chief.’ ”
Junior let us go after that. Alice was still asleep, and Richard ne
arly was, so I decided to forgo any serious conversation that night. Instead, I loaded them into the car, drove them home, and put all of us to bed.
Chapter 7
The next morning was beautiful and crisp, just cool enough to convince me to pick out long-sleeved shirts for Alice and me. “Of course, this isn’t going to seem at all chilly to you,” I crooned to her as I got her dressed, “because you’re my little Yankee baby.”
“I heard that,” Richard said.
“Hey, she’s the first Burnette born above the Mason-Dixon line; that’s worthy of note.”
We lay down on the bed on either side of her to cuddle and talk.
“Any word about Big Bill?” Richard asked.
“I called while you were in the shower. Aunt Maggie says he’s doing fine.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to serendipity. If I hadn’t read that article on poisons in the home, or happened to be in the right place to see that bottle of rubbing alcohol, or had wandered off before Big Bill started to show the effects…” I shook my head, wanting the awful thoughts to go away. “It was too close, Richard, way too close.”
“I know,” he said, closing his hand over mine.
“Anybody could have drunk some of that champagne: Aunt Maggie, you, even Alice.”
He looked at our daughter skeptically, no doubt trying to figure out how, when she wasn’t even walking yet.
“Okay, maybe not Alice, but Aunt Maggie could have. We have to find out who’s after Big Bill.”
He didn’t even blink. “Duh! I knew the minute Big Bill said somebody was trying to kill him that eventually we’d step in. We always do.”
“I wasn’t sure this time, not with Alice here. Can you picture me trying to ask questions while I’m nursing her, or when she’s fussy? ‘Hush now, Alice, we need to get this nice lady’s alibi.’ ”
“It’s not the way Sherlock Holmes would do it,” Richard said.
“More importantly, we can’t put her in any danger.”
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 08 - Wed and Buried Page 6