Are You Listening to Me? : A Detective Toby Mystery (9781927899403)

by Cushnie-mansour, Mary M.

  “Looks like Toby wants you to say yes,” Bryce chuckled.

  Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. He was getting bored with retirement; a change in pace would probably do him good. “Okay, I’ll do it. I don’t want to get too involved, but I guess I can stop by the hospital and see if there is anything more to these deaths. The autopsy from the young man who died should be almost complete by now, shouldn’t it?”

  “All depends on what else is on the coroner’s plate that takes priority over it,” Bryce answered. He opened one of his desk drawers and handed Jack a badge. Toby meowed his approval.

  Jack took the badge and stood. “Come on Toby, time to head home.” He picked Toby up from the desk and headed for the door. “See you later, Bryce.” As he was leaving, Lauren walked in with her computer and set it on the captain’s desk.

  ~

  Toby and Jack arrived home at eight o’clock. Jack was tired. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and plunked down in his favourite chair. Toby jumped up onto the back of the couch and stared out the window. Jack turned the television on and halfway through his program, he was snoring.

  Toby noticed a familiar figure walking past the house. He had no idea why, but something inside him told him to follow Camden home and see what he was up to in his bedroom. Toby was still curious about the grinder. He jumped down and headed out the cat door. He was cautious not to follow Camden too closely.

  Toby sat at the bottom of the tree outside Camden’s room until he saw a light in the window. He climbed up to his branch, but stayed a little closer to the main trunk than he had before. “Bingo, I’m in luck!”

  Camden was retrieving the coffee grinder and was taking a baggie out from under his pillow. The bag looked like it had beans in it. These were put into the mill, and Toby watched as Camden mixed the beans into a powder and then poured the powder into the bag. Camden smiled through the entire procedure, but to Toby, it was not a happy smile: it was sinister.

  When Camden was finished, he placed the baggie back under his pillow, turned his light off and left the room. Toby clawed his way down the tree and headed home. “What the heck is that powder Camden is mixing up? And why is he so secretive about it? He was pretty careful not to let Emma see he was picking those seeds from her plant. Maybe I’ll come and see Emma and nose around the plant. Maybe she’ll tell me about it, and then I’ll have a better idea of what Camden’s up to. Of course I’ll have to figure out a way to inform Jack, and that won’t be an easy task.”

  Toby pushed his way through his cat door. The lights were out in the living room. Jack must have gone to bed. Toby stopped at his dishes for a snack and a drink and then headed to the bedroom to join Jack.

  Monday, June 22, 2009

  L

  auren had had a great weekend. Her friend, Betty, had come down from Toronto on Saturday and had stayed overnight. Lauren told her about the emails, and then the two young women went out and enjoyed their time together: a nice dinner and a movie on Sunday afternoon before Betty headed home. Lauren hadn’t expected to hear from the police over the weekend, sure they had other more pressing matters to look after. She hoped it didn’t take them too long, though; she missed having her computer. Lauren figured if she didn’t hear from them by Monday, she would call them Tuesday.

  She was up early Monday morning, not being able to sleep well. She got out of bed, thinking to go to the gym before work so she could stop by the police station afterwards. Lauren quickly threw her gym clothes on, grabbed a pair of slacks and a blouse from her closet, folded them neatly in her gym bag, and headed out the door.

  Camden was working first shift on Monday. He had not been happy when Lauren hadn’t appeared over the weekend, and he was beginning to worry she wasn’t going to return. He would have to find a replacement for her if that were the case. Camden had considered Paige, but she was too close to home, and she was pregnant; he didn’t want to kill a baby. Camden felt a surge of delight when Lauren walk through the door early on Monday morning.

  “Good morning, Lauren,” he greeted her. “You’re early today.”

  Lauren breathed in deep. “Be pleasant,” she mumbled to herself. To Camden, she replied: “Yes, thought to get this over with early because I have to stop by the police station after work and see if they are finished with my computer.”

  Camden raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  “Remember, I told you about the emails I received?” Lauren reminded Camden.

  He nodded. “Oh yeah … sorry, I forgot.”

  “Well, the police are going to have a tech expert try and trace the I.P. address to see if we can find out who sent them.”

  Camden’s face paled. He knew he shouldn’t worry. He had taken extensive precautions, but then again, one could never be sure. He pointed to the clock. “I guess you better get started on your workout so you won’t be late for work. Would you like me to have a smoothie ready for you when you’re done?”

  Lauren actually smiled. “That would be very nice; I skipped breakfast this morning––banana/pineapple please.”

  “No problem.” Camden smiled back. He had an extra big surprise for Lauren. With her having gone to the police, he needed to ensure she would be too ill to be able to follow up on those emails. And if she didn’t follow up, the police would probably just sweep it under the carpet and forget the entire issue.

  Camden had Lauren’s drink ready when she came out of the dressing room. She gave him five dollars and told him to keep the change. He almost had second thoughts about her, but it was too late: she had half the smoothie drunk before she hit the front door.

  Around two-thirty that afternoon, Lauren started to feel nauseous. She thought at first that it was because she had skipped lunch, so she opened her desk drawer and raided her backup supply of energy bars. But that didn’t help. In fact, her nausea increased to the point where she decided she better get to the washroom or she was going to upchuck all over her desk.

  When Lauren returned to her station, Mr. Delaware walked out of his office to give her something to type up. He noticed how pale she was. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I just feel a bit nauseous. Must be coming down with something,” Lauren replied.

  “You don’t look well at all. Why don’t you head home; this typing can wait until morning.”

  “I’ll be okay––rea…” a sharp pain drove through Lauren’s stomach, and she bent forward to try and stop the force of it.

  “Go home! Stop at a walk-in clinic on your way, or the hospital. I read about some other people who died from some bad flu; maybe that’s what you have, and if you catch it in time the doctors can help you.” Mr. Delaware made his final point before returning to his office.

  Lauren shut down her computer, grabbed her purse from the desk drawer, and headed out the door. She just wanted to get home; she didn’t feel like sitting for hours in some walk-in clinic, or at the hospital’s Emergency Department where she would probably pick up something even worse.

  Another sharp pain doubled Lauren over as she walked through her front door. She ran as fast as she could to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. Her stomach exploded, but when she was finished, she felt a bit better. Lauren headed to the kitchen and looked through her cupboards for something light to eat. Finding a package of Cup-of-Soup, she plugged in the kettle and waited for it to boil. She was feeling scorching hot, which gave her reason to assume she was coming down with the flu.

  “Hopefully, it’ll pass by morning,” she mumbled as she poured the hot water into her mug, then headed into the living room. Lauren curled up on the couch and turned the television on.

  Tuesday, June 23, 2009

  H

  owever Lauren wasn’t better by morning. She had a dreadfully rough night and was feeling much worse. She called the office. No one was in yet, so she left a message on the answering machine, saying she was still not well; she would call later to let Mr. Delaware know of her progress.

&
nbsp; She tried everything: more soup, juice, tea, water––it all went right through her. She noticed blood a few times, and she could not stop sweating. “This is like no flu I’ve ever had before,” she mumbled after staggering out of the bathroom mid-morning. “But if I can make it through five years of living with an asshole like Ethan Wolf, I can surely survive this,” she laughed weakly.

  By mid-afternoon, Lauren was curled up in bed, too weak to even move. She had absolutely no strength left. The phone rang. She glanced at her night-table, looking for her portable. “Damn,” she cursed. “I must have left it downstairs.” The phone stopped.

  A few minutes later, it rang again. Lauren remembered about the emails and her computer. “Maybe it’s the police calling me … I better try and get to it.” Lauren forced herself to her feet and stumbled out of her room. She was dizzy and not sure if she could navigate the stairs to get herself to the living room. Her foot reached for the first step … then the second … then, there were no more. Lauren tumbled to the bottom of the stairs and lay still.

  Wednesday, June 24, 2009

  C

  aptain Bryce Wagner was worried about Lauren. He had tried calling her at her home on Tuesday after her work had said she was sick, but she hadn’t answered her phone. He had tried again this morning, and she still didn’t answer. When he called her work again, they said she had left a message on Tuesday that she was still not feeling well. Bryce asked to talk to Mr. Delaware.

  “Delaware, here, how can I help you?”

  “It’s Bryce … you sent a young woman over to see me on Monday––about a couple of harassing emails. I have been trying to get hold of her, but she’s not answering her phone: do you know where she might be?”

  Mr. Delaware could only think of one possible place. “Well, if she isn’t at home, she is most likely at the hospital or a walk-in clinic. She was pretty sick when she left here on Monday.”

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “Said she was throwing up. I told her it was probably a touch of the flu and sent her home. She called in yesterday to say she wouldn’t be in. Come to think of it, this isn’t like her not to keep in touch. Maybe I’ll go over to her house and check up on her. I don’t think she has many friends in the city yet.” He paused. “By the way, did you make heads or tails out of those emails?”

  “Not of the actual emails, but the girl brought her computer in for us to check out. Our tech expert was out of town for a couple of days, but he’s back now. He’s going to look at it this afternoon. I’ll give you a call if we find anything.”

  After hanging up the phone, Mr. Delaware sat for a moment in his chair and then he got up and headed for the door. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told the receptionist. Driving up to Lauren’s house he felt a wave of apprehension wash over him. He knew himself well enough that this only happened to him when there was something terribly wrong. He got out of his car and walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. No answer. He tried the door to see if it was locked. It opened easily. Mr. Delaware looked around. He didn’t want any of the neighbours to think he was a burglar but his concern for Lauren far outweighed his concern for his reputation. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Lauren lay at the bottom of the stairs, her body twisted from her fall. Mr. Delaware bowed over and felt for a pulse. The body was cold. The pulse was absent. He stood up, took out his cell phone and called the police. He asked to speak to Captain Bryce Wagner.

  “Wagner, here.”

  “Bryce … it’s Greg. I found out why Lauren didn’t answer her phone. She’s dead.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At her place. After we had talked, I got worried and decided I would check on her. Like I told you, it isn’t like her not to call in. Looks like she took a tumble down the stairs.”

  “I’ll send an officer over right away. Don’t touch anything,” Bryce warned.

  “You don’t have to tell me that; I’m a lawyer.”

  In less than twenty minutes a police cruiser and an ambulance pulled up in front of Lauren’s house. A couple of nosy neighbours came out onto their front porches to see what was going on. Mr. Delaware was waiting at the front door to let the officers and paramedics in. A yellow tape was put up across the front yard. It wasn’t long before another car drove up and two newspaper reporters got out and tried to get through the tape. One of the officers stopped them at the door.

  “There is nothing here for you to see, boys,” she said. “Just a young woman had an unfortunate accident in her home.”

  “Are you sure it was an accident, officer?” one of the reporters questioned.

  “We aren’t sure of anything until we finish investigating the scene.”

  “So it might not be an accident then?” the reporter pushed.

  “No further comments … now if you don’t mind, I have work to do here.” The female officer shut the door.

  ~

  Somehow, someone leaked more information to the press than was expected. The six o’clock news broadcast how a young woman, Lauren Dagnell, was found dead in her home that morning. Her boss, Mr. Delaware, a local lawyer, who had become suspicious when she hadn’t called into work, found the body. He was unavailable for comments. Police sources do not suggest foul play at the moment, but an autopsy will be performed on the body to see if there is anything else that could have led to the woman’s untimely death.

  ~

  Emma was watching the six o’clock news. The story of the young woman, who had been found dead in her home, shook Emma up. She called Duke over to where she was sitting and gave him a hug. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me, would you, boy?” Duke licked her face.

  When Camden arrived home from work at six-thirty, Emma told him about the woman. “Did you catch her name?” Camden asked.

  At first Emma thought that was a strange reaction for her brother to have, but then she thought that maybe since he worked in a place where a lot of people came and went every day, he might know the victim. “I think it was something like … Laura … no, that’s not it … Lauren … that was her name. She worked for a lawyer, and he was the one who found her body at the bottom of her stairway. Do you know anyone named Lauren?”

  Camden hid the joy he was feeling inside and shook his head. “Not that I can think of. Well, that’s a shame.” Camden saw the look on Emma’s face and realized the news story had upset her. After all, she was alone in the house quite a bit while he was working. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Emma,” he began, taking her hands in his; “it sounds like this woman just had an accident in her home. Besides, you have Duke here to protect you; no one is going to get past him! I’m going upstairs to clean up; I’ll be down in a few minutes for supper.”

  As Camden climbed the stairs to his room his face lit up: he punched the air, a victory salute. He wouldn’t have displayed such happiness had he known Emma was watching him, wondering what it was that her brother found so humorous about a young woman’s death.

  ~

  Jack and Toby didn’t have to wait for the six o’clock news to hear about Lauren’s untimely death. Bryce called and asked if they could come down to the station so he could fill them in on what he knew so far and also find out if Jack had discovered anything at the hospital.

  “Come in and close the door,” Bryce said. He didn’t waste any time. “There are no leads yet on the computer. Whoever sent the email knows computers and knows how to block access to their I.P. address. Our guy is still working on it. He said there might be another way.” He paused for breath. “Did you find out anything from the hospital?”

  Jack shook his head. “Nothing substantial. Doctor Campbell, who saw the first girl, wasn’t too cooperative. Can’t blame him I guess, with that young fellow’s mum all over the hospital in regards to her son. There was a nurse who talked to me. She was on duty the night the young fellow was brought in, and she was just going off when the boyfriend brought his gir
lfriend up there. She told me the symptoms of both parties were similar. She also said she didn’t think it was food poisoning or a case of the flu.”

  “What was her name? We will probably need to talk to her again.”

  “Karen.”

  “Good work.” Bryce tapped his pen on the desk. “Wasn’t there another young woman who died the same weekend as the Tyler fellow?” he questioned.

  “Come to think of it, yes there was––a school teacher.”

  “I don’t know … I have a gut feeling that somehow these deaths are all connected. Find out who her family is and ask them if she was sick before she died.”

  “Am I on the payroll now?” Jack asked with a grin.

  “I got no one better to help me out on this, and if it gets any more mysterious, I think we have more here than just the flu. My old police gut tells me something stinks. I also want to know if any of these other people who died received any vicious emails.”

  Toby was excited––not that people had lost their lives, but that he and Jack would be working on a real case together. As Jack and Toby were leaving the station, a couple of officers hollered over. “Hey there, Jack, how’s that oversized orange cat of yours? Solve any more crimes lately?” They were laughing.

  Toby walked out in front of Jack. The officers stopped laughing.

  “Oh, there he is. Hey, Toby!” They came over and knelt down to give Toby a backrub. Toby absorbed every finger of it.

  Jack waited patiently for Toby’s backrub to be over, smiled at the officers, then picked Toby up and exited the building. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved in this case, but Bryce seemed to need him so he would humour his friend until some unretired officers could take over.