The reporter continued, “The name of the driver who perished in the crash, is Miller Crawford, owner of Miller’s Security Systems, in Watertown and Rochester.”
Chapter 13
No! This couldn’t be happening! Miller was dead? I ran into the bathroom and vomited. Sitting on the floor, with my head spinning, sobs tore at my body. This was my fault. Had to be. I should never have taken him on as a client. I knew something could happen to him if I did, and I did it anyway. What kind of a person was I? Oh, God. Miller was dead.
I fell asleep right there on the bathroom floor, waking during the night only long enough to drag myself off to bed, where I remained awake until morning. When I couldn’t lie there any longer, I picked up the phone and called Dr. Steele. “Can you see me this morning? It’s important.”
“So what’s going on?” Dr. Steele asked, settling herself into her chair. She crossed her legs, straightened her back, and held a pencil over her notebook, poised and ready to take notes like a capable secretary.
“Another client,” I said. “This one died.”
Her face went slack, her notebook forgotten. “Oh, my God, Audrey, when?”
“Two days ago, but I didn’t hear about it until last night,” I said. “The thing is, I met with him the day he died. We spent an hour in my office going over his business material. I mean, he was a new client. It was our introductory meeting, as far as his advertising went.”
“What do you mean, as far as his advertising went?”
“He’d been in my office once before, and we’d had lunch together before that. He installed one of his security systems at my office.”
“This is most likely just a terrible coincidence,” she said. “The poor man had an unfortunate accident the day he met with you, and that’s the beginning and the end of it.”
I shook my head. “No, there can’t be that many coincidences.” I jumped up. “In fact I shouldn’t even be here. Whatever it is, I could be bringing this awfulness to you just by being here! I have to go.” I grabbed my purse and ran out the door, leaving Dr. Steele sitting in her chair, apparently unable to think of anything to say that would make me stay.
Once back in Nelly, I couldn’t control my panic, and knew I shouldn’t drive. I called Jack, explained what had happened to Miller, and told him where I was.
“I’ll be right there,” he said. “Hold tight.”
By the time he arrived, I was hugging myself and rocking back and forth, and I let out a scream when he knocked on my window. I pushed back my seat and made an ungainly move over the console to the passenger side. He slid in behind the wheel, checked his watch, and turned on the radio.
“I knew about the crash,” he said, “but I didn’t know the guy was your client.”
When the news began, the second story reported that Miller was found to have a drug commonly found in sleeping pills in his blood. It was assumed, barring any new findings, that he’d fallen asleep at the wheel. No skid marks were found at the scene, indicating that he had not tried to brake as his vehicle left the road, and the condition of the van was consistent with it having hit the pole while Miller’s foot was still on the gas pedal.
“Sleeping pills,” I whispered, “that’s what they said about Tony. That he had remnants of sleeping pills in his blood.”
“They also said you were the last to see Tony, but we don’t know that for sure.”
“I think I was the last one to see Miller, though. We had a meeting in my office that day.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“He had a headache and I gave him two aspirins.”
Jack turned to look at me. “You gave him pills?”
“Yes. Aspirin.”
“Where’s the container?”
“It was empty, so I threw it in the trash can.”
“Let’s go,” he said.
When we arrived at the office, Jack asked, “Which can? Kitchen? Or the one by your desk?”
I pointed to the one next to my desk. He took a pen out of his pocket and used it to lift out the empty bottle. “Got any plastic bags?”
I went to the kitchenette and pulled one out of a box in the cupboard. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to have the dust inside analyzed.” He dropped the bottle into the bag.
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, “once it’s known that you may have been the last one to see Miller and you gave him pills, the department’s gonna do this. We might as well do it first.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re telling me that I’m going to be accused of causing Miller to drive off the road?”
“I’m saying that this is the second of your clients – one who almost died, and one who did, to have sleeping pill residue in their blood, and who saw you the same day they had their accidents. We need to be proactive.”
“Just get rid of the bottle!”
“Can’t do that. You know I can’t.”
“Nobody else was here when Miller was. No one needs to know he met with me.”
“I’m sure he has an appointment book, or a secretary who keeps his daily schedules for him. Plus, if you remember, I drove out of your driveway just as he was driving in.”
“I thought dating you was going to keep me safe,” I said.
“Don’t panic,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Now come on – are you okay to drive me back to my car?”
I nodded, but in my heart I knew I was in trouble; the in-my-head kind of trouble.
Chapter 14
Jack called the next morning and said we needed to meet. “You don’t sound right,” I said. “Please don’t tell me something else is wrong.”
“Are you at the apartment or at the office?”
“Apartment.”
“I’ll be right over. I’ll bring coffee.”
I showered and dressed, wondering what was so urgent that he felt the need to rush right over. Maybe they’d found Danny Stearns. Or maybe it wasn’t about him at all. Had they found Ferdy? Oh, God. What if they found him and he was dead? By the time Jack arrived I’d worked myself into a frenzy; the last thing I needed was coffee.
Jack walked in and handed me a large cup. “It’s decaf,” he said. Thankful for that, I took a sip and we sat on the sofa.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Matt St. John spoke to the manager of Mike’s Diner and confirmed that you and Tony have coffee there most Monday mornings.”
“Right. So?”
“He said that Tony stayed a little longer than usual that morning; refilled his coffee.”
“And?”
“He knows that Tony had sleeping pill residue in his blood.”
“And?” Jack was re-capping – leading up to a big something.
“Matt has to look at everything. He’s going to ask you if you have access to sleeping pills. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Are you saying that if he finds out I have sleeping pills, he’ll think I hurt Tony? That’s beyond ludicrous!”
“As the investigating officer, he has to look into every little thing, and I can’t interfere with that. All I can do is advise you to tell him the truth. If he gets too personal, tell him you want a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” I excused myself, and with my anxiety meter about to blow, went into the bedroom and swallowed one of my happy pills. When I turned around, Jack was standing there.
“What was that you just took?”
“A pill. I took a friggin’ happy pill, okay?”
“Sure,” he said. “You told me you were on medication. I get it.”
I began to pace. “No one who knows me would ever think I would hurt Tony, or anyone else for that matter! He can ask anyone. I would never do anything so awful. I don’t have it in me. Tony was a client, but he was also a very good friend.”
“I’m sure he will be asking around. People you work with, friends, like that.”
“Oh, that’s just great! I didn�
�t mean I wanted him to talk to people! The grapevine in advertising is big enough to choke a horse; I’ll never get another client. If Matt talks to even one person, I’ll be done!”
Someone knocked on the door. “I’ll get it,” he said, and then I heard him say, “Matt.”
Matt? Already? Butterflies darted through my stomach, then through my chest before making their way along my extremities. I looked at my arm, half expecting to see wings rippling under my skin.
“Sorry about this,” said Matt. “I need to talk to Audrey.”
“Come in, Matt,” I said, and I pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.” I went to the sofa and waited for him to start. I have nothing to hide, I thought, so let him have a go at me.
Matt looked toward the ceiling and sniffed. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“Are you cooking?”
I thought for a second. “Oh, no – that’s incense.”
“Are you burning it now?”
“No, that has to be from last night.”
“Oh,” he said. “The only time I run into that is when it’s being used to cover up the smell of pot.”
I rolled my eyes, “I wasn’t smoking pot.” But suddenly the incense was all I could smell. It seemed to get stronger and stronger, until I considered excusing myself to see if I actually had lit a stick and forgotten, but I sat tight.
“Okay,” he finally said, “let’s get to this.”
“How can I help you?” The butterflies continued their mad flight through my body and heat prickled the back of my neck. If Jack hadn’t told me this guy was going to ask me about sleeping pills, I probably wouldn’t be so nervous. But then, maybe knowing ahead of time would keep my eyes from bugging out of my head when and if he did ask. What was the saying? Forewarned is forearmed?
He flipped open his notebook and I could see a list of questions he had prepared. With a click of his pen, he began. “So how long have you known Mr. Bravada?”
“About eight years – you asked me that before.”
“And when was the last time you saw him?”
“The morning of his crash. I told you that before too.”
“I spoke to the manager of Mike’s Diner and he verified that you were there the morning of the crash with Mr. Bravada, around quarter to seven. Is that right?”
“Yes.” What’s he doing? I thought. Asking me the same questions to see if I change my answers?
“Mr. Bravada said he didn’t think the plane malfunctioned. He said he felt drowsy and fought to stay awake.”
“I was in the hospital room when he told you that, Matt.”
Without looking up from his notebook, he continued, “Do you have access to sleeping pills?”
So there it was. “I do.”
“Over-the-counter or prescription?” His voice was calm and non-threatening.
Probably a technique they used to interrogate actual criminals, I thought. “Prescription.”
“Who prescribed them for you?”
“My doctor, of course.”
“A general practitioner?”
I took a deep breath. “My therapist.”
He looked up from his notebook. “You’re seeing a psychologist?”
“A psychiatrist, actually,” I said. He wrote that down. “Do you think I drugged Tony?” I asked. “You can’t possibly think that.”
“I have to cover all the bases,” he explained. “You were the last known person to see him before his accident.”
“So?” A trainload of agitation chugged toward the section of tracks I was tied to.
“Audrey,” he said, “at this point I have to pause and Mirandize you, because your answers might be incriminating.”
Jack spoke up, “Do you want a lawyer?”
“Why would I need a lawyer?” I asked, hearing the exasperation in my voice. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Matt read me my rights and then continued. “So, the doctors found no physical ailments or disorders that would cause Mr. Bravada to become drowsy. That means it was caused by an outside source, in this case sleeping pills, which he does not have in his possession. So, at this time I have to ask if you put sleeping pills in his coffee that morning.”
“To what end?” I asked. “He’s been a client and a friend for years. His sponsors provided a huge portion of my income. I would have no reason to do anything to him from a personal or a business standpoint.”
“Another client of yours, Miller Crawford, had the same drug in his blood when he crashed his car,” he said, “and it’s come to my attention that you may also have been the last person to see him before his accident.”
I shot a look at Jack that said, you told him?
“Also,” Matt continued, “I have reason to believe that you gave Mr. Crawford pills while the two of you were together, just before his accident. Is that true?”
I looked again at Jack, only this time, I felt tears running down my face. He looked stricken, and I knew he had told Matt. “Yes, that’s true,” I said, “but I thought they were aspirin. They were in an aspirin bottle, so why would I have thought they were anything else?”
“I was going to tell you,” Jack whispered.
“I don’t have any more questions for you,” Matt said, and he stuck his notebook into his back pocket and headed toward the door. “Listen, Audrey,” he said, “better me than someone you’ve never met, right? I know you didn’t do any of this. But the process is the process. I have to ask you not to leave town.”
Jack followed him. “It’s your job, man. I know that.”
After the door closed, I turned to Jack. “Why did you tell him about Miller?”
“Take it easy,” he said.
“Don’t tell me to take it easy!” I shouted. “You betrayed me!”
“Hold on. Remember when you told me you had given Miller the aspirin? And we went to your office to retrieve the bottle? I said it was because I knew that the police would eventually know you were with him before he died, and had given him those pills. And what did I tell you was the reason for picking the bottle out of your trash?”
“To analyze the contents before the police did.”
“Yes. To be forthcoming about everything, so it didn’t look like evidence was piling up against you. We told them. So when Matt came to me with the results of Miller’s blood analysis, and it was the same as Tony’s, I told him the rest – that you gave Miller the pills. We were working together.”
“Against me!”
He held up his hands. “No, not against you. I would never do that. You know better.”
“I need you to leave, Jack.”
“Okay, I’ll go. But first tell me you understand why I told Matt what I did.”
“I know you had my best interest at heart. I just wish I’d heard it from you, before I heard it from him.”
“I’d fully intended to tell you, Audrey, but then he showed up at the door before I had a chance. Look, I have to go to work.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you later.”
I paced the floor, going over the interview, and realized I’d been so nervous that I’d already forgotten much of what was said. I needed something to occupy my mind and decided to drive over to Mike’s Diner. I wanted to know what Mike had said to Matt; what questions he’d been asked.
When I arrived, the place was packed with the lunch crowd; not the best time to get and keep Mike’s attention. I waved at him and caught his eye. He was working the counter, but was willing to sit with me for a minute.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I began, “but I’m freaking out. The police are asking me questions about the last morning I was here with Tony. Officer St. John told me he talked to you. What did he say?”
“He asked me how often you two came in, was it always about the same time, were you here that morning, and did I see anything weird happening between the two of you.”
“Anything else?”
“Wanted to know did any customers get sick that day, which ins
ulted the b’Jesus out of me, and he asked who else was working the counter that morning – I said it was just me. That was about it. Listen,” he said, “I have to get back to work,” and he started to get up.
“So after I left, Tony was still here, right?”
“For a few minutes. Some guy who was sitting at the counter, a fan I guess, recognized his voice. He stopped by the table, and come to think about it, he sat in the booth for a minute or two.”
“You didn’t tell that to the officer?”
He shook his head. “I just answered his questions. I was busy.”
“That means I wasn’t the last person to see him that morning! Do you know who the man was?”
“Never saw him before. I’m pretty sure he came in after you and Tony had already been here for a while; he sat at the counter. But then the place started getting busy and I really didn’t pay any attention after that.”
“Thanks Mike!” I said, as I got up to leave. I burst through the door feeling relieved and pissed at the same time. And so ready to tell off Matt. He should have asked more questions – gotten Mike to remember more. I jumped into Nelly and headed to the police station to find him.
Chapter 15
Better judgment prevailed. When was it ever smart to ha-ha a cop, especially when you wanted him on your side? So instead of driving to the police station all worked up, I sent Jack a text and asked him to come to my apartment when his tour ended; he could pass the information along.
He said he’d come for dinner, so I put in an order downstairs and then went up and aired out my apartment. A swish of a cloth took care of tabletop dust and I ran the vacuum. With time to spare, I ran next door to the hair salon and found Lisa finishing up her last appointment for the day; a teen who was mooning over her newly-dyed pink hair. Lisa had given her a short cut, jagged on the sides, while the hair over her eyes hung straight down like a starched flag. How could she even see herself in the mirror? Lisa winked at me, knowing exactly what I was thinking.
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