Gross Sarcastic Homicide: (A Private Investigator Mystery Series) (Mary Cooper Mysteries Book 3)
Page 8
The whole thing looked like the last place you would find a psychiatric support group. What, did they pull up French Renaissance chairs into a circle for group discussions?
She was led to a library that matched the proportions of the rest of the place. Two-story bookshelves, a desk the size of South Dakota, and a fireplace big enough to house a family of four.
A man with wavy gray hair and yoga pants with a white cotton peasant shirt, barefoot, turned and greeted her.
“Ah, the private eye!” he said, his voice rich and hearty, but high-pitched.
“Yes, and you are?” Mary said.
“Ha! My name is Peter Torrance, but everyone calls me Tor. What’s your name?”
Mary felt like she was in kindergarten. “Mary Cooper.”
He came toward her and she couldn’t help but stare at his outfit. He was barefoot. The yoga pants were way too tight and his bulging crotch was hard to miss. The cotton peasant shirt could only be described as “flowing” as it seemed to go on and on. Mary also thought it looked dirty, like he’d rolled around on the floor in it. Maybe yoga? Yoga, in a heavy, long-sleeved shirt?
“How can I help you, Mary Cooper?” he asked.
“Tell me about Altadena Alternative Therapies,” she said.
“Why, of course! It’s a little alternative healing practice we set up in the Garden Room. Very interesting. We disbanded that some time ago, but it was a fascinating experiment. I think the results were inconclusive.”
“What were you studying?”
“That’s confidential, I’m afraid, Ms. Cooper. But the short answer is the human mind, of course. The human mind is what we study, day in and day out.” He swept his arm toward the two stories of bookshelves. “This is all about the human mind.”
“Got it. The human mind,” Mary said. “My mind is wondering what the hell a support group was doing in this house that’s worth what, a few hundred million?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Unusual, wouldn’t you say?”
“Who’s to say what’s usual? I’ve never followed the sheep, Mary, which is how I was lucky enough to amass enough capital that I need not worry about what others are doing.”
“What was your field?”
“Pharmaceuticals.”
“Synergy Labs? Is that your company?”
“Yes, how did you know that?”
“The human mind, Tor,” Mary said.
“Yes, that’s one of my companies. I have many.”
“Do you work with Dr. Frank Fallon?”
“Yes, I do, he is a consultant to the company.”
“And do you know a man named Craig Locher? A woman named Valerie Barnes? And a woman named Ann Budchuk?” Mary asked. “Any of those names ring a bell?”
Torrance bent over in a yoga pose, breathed out, then straightened up and looked at Mary.
“No, I can’t say that I do,” he said. “But I wasn’t intimately involved in the groups.”
“Dr. Frank was, right?” Mary asked.
“I believe he was.”
“Did you take part in the group sessions?”
“Me? Ha! Of course not.”
“Then who would know more about the groups?”
“I have no idea. I allowed the groups here, I had no hand in running them.”
Mary didn’t believe him for a second.
“I’m afraid I have to go now, Miss Cooper,” he said. “I’ve got a session of Tai Chi scheduled for the Daffodil Room. Would you like to join us?”
Mary sensed the presence of not one, but two security guards now behind her.
“No, I don’t believe in any of that crap.”
“Well, I hope I’ve answered all your questions as we won’t be doing this again, even though it was a pleasure,” Torrance said.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Mary said.
She allowed herself to be shown out.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Later, she would chastise herself for not listening to her intuition.
Because the thought crossed her mind as she was being led to the front door of the huge mansion.
A person could disappear here.
She thought that.
And then something nudged her in a small part of her warning system.
Fabric faintly rustled behind her and then pain exploded from the base of her neck, a hot numbness flashed across her brain and everything went black.
Chapter Forty
So this is what it’s like.
There was something to be said for recognizing life’s milestones, even when the situation is less than ideal. For instance, being confined in an insane asylum.
Mary was pretty sure that’s where she was.
Her arms couldn’t move because she was in a straitjacket. Her bed was white sheets. Her walls were white, and padded up to about six feet. And the door, also painted white, had bars instead of glass.
Outside, she could hear moans and an occasional shout.
This is it, she thought. I’m in the loony bin.
Mary struggled against her restraints and heard the bolt to the door being thrown, and then it swung outward, allowing three men to enter the room. One of them was a security guard type in a blue wannabe-cop-looking outfit, wearing a gun and a Taser. The second was Torrance. The third was Dr. Frank Fallon.
“This really is where you belong,” Fallon said.
“She was so obnoxious,” Torrance said.
“That’s her style,” Fallon answered. “If she were better looking men would put up with her mouth. But alas, she’s only average looking.”
“Stop with the compliments, Dr. Frank. Maybe I should sue you like most of your female patients who turn you down.”
“They are the exceptions,” he said.
“You’re a joke, Frank. About as attractive as your buddy’s goofy outfit.”
Was she still on drugs? She felt a little funny.
“So Valerie Barnes was your real victim, wasn’t she? You had her cooking your books for you?”
Fallon made the motion of applauding her.
“How did you figure it out, though?” Torrance asked her.
“Your joke with the baby stuff, the infantilism was too over the top. You were trying to hide something with the display. I had a hunch it was all about the Barnes woman.”
“It was fun,” Fallon said. “We used the support group to try out experimental drugs. It fucked a lot of people up, but then we realized that we could sell the shit illegally. One of the drugs Synergy Labs made was practically like crack. Once we started making money, we needed a way to launder it. And beautiful Valerie Barnes in our support group was the key.”
“But then what happened? She got better and realized what was going on? Blew the whistle?”
“Oh, she tried. But we rammed the whistle down her throat before she could get a sound out.”
Both men laughed.
Fallon checked his watch again then turned to Torrance. “Well, should we keep her doped up for the next thirty years or will there be a deadly mix-up in her medication?”
“You know, it’s hard to keep all of this stuff straight,” Torrance said. “So much confusion with dosages and drug interactions. I think if she dies from a nurse administering the wrong amount of drugs, while tragic, wouldn’t be surprising.”
“Should we bang her first?” Fallon said.
“No, I played tennis this morning and pulled a hamstring. But feel free.”
Fallon checked his watch.
“I can slide my morning appointment into the afternoon, which will give me time to slide the sausage into Miss Cooper here.”
The two men laughed.
Fallon began unbuckling his pants and turned to the security guard.
“You can leave now,” he said.
The security guard nodded, pulled out his Taser, and zapped Torrance who fell to the ground. Fallon tried to pull his pants back up but the security guard pressed the Taser into h
is neck and Fallon fell on top of Torrance.
The security guard looked at Mary, then took off his cap and his moustache.
“I’m sorry, you were finally going to get laid!” Jake said.
Chapter Forty-One
“Well, I figured you’d wind up here eventually,” Jake said, as a team of cops snapped handcuffs onto Torrance and Fallon and led them away.
“Don’t we have to leave her here?” Alice said, as she, Uncle Kurt, and Jason got out of Alice’s car which was parked behind Jake’s unmarked. “After all, she was committed.”
“Very funny,” Mary said. “How…?”
Jake said, “Derek Pitts. He was their dealer for the synthetic crack Synergy Labs was making. We tracked down his crew and they led us to his girlfriend who gave it all up. She was out of her mind from withdrawal.”
“But you were undercover?”
“I knew you were here, but not where, and I didn’t have time for a SWAT team. So I improvised.”
Mary took Jake’s hand. “Thank you,” she said.
She felt a surge of warmth toward him.
“Were you really upset that I wasn’t going to get laid?” Mary said.
Jake nodded. “It was in my plans, they just didn’t include those two clowns.”
Mary slipped her arm around Jake’s waist.
“Well, why don’t we go back to my place and see if your plan was a good one.”
THE END
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About the Author
Dan Ames is a crime novelist living in Detroit, Michigan and winner of the Independent Book Award for Crime Fiction.
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