Never Enough Thyme

by Juliet MacLeod

  “Yes. Stabbed at least once. Are you okay to go home?”

  “Yes, I think so. I... I need to call my mom.”

  “Alright. I’m going to be busy for a while. Otherwise, I’d drive you home.” Dean paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought.

  “Wait,” I said, reaching out to take hold of his arm. “She called me this morning. On my way to work. I didn’t answer because I was driving, but she called three or four times in a row.”

  “Did you ever talk to her?”

  “No. But she left a message. She said that she wanted to talk to you, and would I pass on the message. I called her back and said she could just call you directly. She didn’t, did she?”

  Dean shook his head and looked away toward the end of the street. “She didn’t.” He looked back at me. “Why did she want to talk to me?”

  “I have no idea. She didn’t say. There was another voice in the background. A man’s voice. I didn’t recognize it, nor could I make out what he was saying.”

  “Huh. Okay.” He looked down at me, studying my face with an intensity that made me nervous. “You’re really okay?”

  “Yes, Dean. I’m okay.”

  He nodded. “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Will you stop off at the bookshop to get Viki’s emergency contact information?”

  “Yeah. I could do that. No problem.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a heart-stopping smile. “Drop it off at the station when you get it, then head home. I’ll give you a call in the morning, okay?”

  I nodded and stepped away, watching as Dean began working. A few moments later, two sheriff's cruisers pulled up with Doc’s hearse following. The deputies nodded at me and went around the house to the backyard. Doc paused for a moment at my side, his eyes narrowed.

  “You alright, kiddo?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I gave him a wavering smile.

  “Well, I suppose you’d know best, being a medical professional. But promise me you’ll go to the clinic in Idaho Springs if you notice anything weird.”

  “Weird?” I asked.

  “Palpitations, sleeplessness, nausea, dizziness. You know, all the signs of shock or trauma.”

  I smiled and gave Doc a quick hug. “I promise.”

  “Good girl. Give my regards to your mother?”

  “I will.” I smiled at Doc, then drove back to the shop, arriving at the curb a few moments later. I unlocked the shop door and went to Mom’s office in the back. I sat down hard in her chair and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to stop a sudden flood of tears. Viki was not a nice person. She was short with the customers, sarcastic and passive-aggressive with Mom, and down-right mean to me. But she was still a person, and I felt awful that she was dead. Viki couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old. She was so young.

  With a heavy sigh, I picked up the phone and dialed Mom’s home number. She answered on the second ring.

  “Bryony? What are you doing in the shop?”

  “Oh, Mom,” I said, my voice tight, constricted by the effort of trying not to cry. “It’s Viki... She’s... She’s dead.”

  “What? No! Bryony, this is not a funny joke.”

  “It’s not a joke, Mom. I wouldn’t kid about that.”

  “What happened?” I could hear the tears in her voice, which broke down my own defenses. We cried together on the phone for a few moments before I gathered myself together and explained what had happened after I’d left the shop earlier.

  “Stabbed? How awful.” I listened to Mom blow her nose.

  “Yeah.” I swallowed and grabbed a tissue from the box on the corner of the desk to dab at my eyes. “Dean asked me to get her emergency contact information. Is it in her file here?”

  “Yes. In the top drawer of the cabinet right behind my desk.”

  “Okay. I’m going to take it over to the sheriff's station on my way home.”

  “Thank you, Bryony. Would you also put a sign up on the front door of the shop? Something about being temporarily closed. I just... I can’t even think about opening up tomorrow.”

  “I understand. I’ll take care of the sign. Do you want me to come over tonight?”

  “No, sweetheart. I’ll be okay. You’ve had quite a day. Go on home and get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hung up and dug out Viki’s employment file. I saw that Viki’s emergency contact was her mother in Fort Collins. I felt a pang of sympathy for Mrs. Childress and hoped she had someone with her when she received the call later that night.

  After leaving the office, I paused at the counter to make up a quick sign stating that the shop would be temporarily closed then taped it up in the window on the front doors. I left the shop and locked up before crossing the street to Barry’s building. I wanted to check on Lily before I headed home.

  I felt eyes on me and glanced around at the surrounding buildings. There were lights on in the apartments over the shops, but they were all covered. No one twitched aside the curtains to watch me, and I didn’t see anyone on the streets. I shuddered and chalked it up to the lingering aftermath of finding Viki.

  Inside Barry’s apartment, it appeared that no one had come to claim Lily, so I gathered up her food and water bowls, plus her canned food and kibble, litter and her box, and carried them out to my car. Then I dug through Barry’s closest and found a cat carrier. I laid a towel down on the bottom of the carrier and coaxed her into it, then carried her downstairs and put her on the passenger seat. I drove to the sheriff's station, which was located next to the City-County Building, listening to her complaining the entire way.

  Once inside, I waited at the watch commander’s desk as he tracked down one of the deputies so I could hand over Viki’s information. I spotted Doc Hutchins coming through the station’s front doors and smiled when he spotted me.

  “Heckuva night, eh?” he said by way of a greeting.

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just so... Awful. Can you... Can you tell me anything about Viki?”

  Doc said before clearing his throat. His voice took on an official tone as he spoke. “She’s been dead about nine hours or so. She was stabbed once in the chest. There were no hesitation marks, and although she’ll be autopsied later this week down in Golden, my official report will state that I believe she was murdered, and it wasn’t a crime of passion.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Whoever killed her knew what he—or she—was doing. Once stab wound was all I found in my initial investigation. I believe that’s what the CBI’s final report will say, too.”

  I sighed softly, saddened even more by Doc’s findings. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “You’re welcome, Bryony. Go home, take a hot bath, maybe have a stiff drink, and get some sleep. And don’t be too stubborn to go to the clinic. Your mother needs you. The town needs you.” The mortician gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder before bustling off into the back of the station.

  Deputy McGill finally appeared and took Viki’s employment file. I left and headed home and carefully introduced Lily to my household. I set up her box and bowls in the upstairs guest bathroom and found an old, soft blanket to make a bed for her. Beryl hissed and yowled angrily at her, but Lily paid him no mind, sniffing curiously around the bathroom before settling down on the blanket. I smiled, and I did as Doc recommended, falling into bed after a bath and a cup of tea. Beryl spent most of the night yowling at the bathroom door.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I slept through my alarm Tuesday morning. I’d been plagued by disturbing nightmares involving both Barry and Viki’s deaths and had slept fitfully. A tiny coughing sound woke me at half-past seven. The moment I opened my eyes and saw a neat little puddle of cat vomit on my best bedspread, I knew it had been a mistake to wake up. Beryl was clearly punishing me for bringing Lily into the house.

  I groaned and sat up, lookin
g around the room for the culprit. He was, of course, nowhere to be seen. “Beryl, you naughty cat!” I called out as I slid from beneath cool cotton sheets. “I'm gonna skin you and use your guts for violin strings!” I slid my feet into slippers and shuffled across the hardwood floor to the windows. There was a sunbeam peeking through them, and a quick glance outside showed it was another beautiful summer morning, one that drew the flatlanders to the mountains to play. It was a shame that such a dark pall hung over my head.

  I slipped into a fuzzy pink bathrobe I’d draped over a slipper chair across from my bed and peered inside the bathroom. There, curled up in the bottom of the cast iron, clawfoot tub, was Beryl. He peered up at me with the most innocent expression in his bluest-blue eyes. I frowned at him.

  “You know what you did,” I said.

  He blinked, and the innocence in his feline gaze changed to smugness.

  “And you know I still love you. But you know what? You’ve got a new sister now, and you’re just gonna have to get used to her.” I sighed and got out a washrag before going back to my bedroom and cleaning up the vomit. I stripped my bed afterward. It was a good thing I had planned to do laundry today.

  I went back to the bathroom and washed my face before stumbling downstairs and getting the day’s edition of The Denver Post off the front porch. Although I was a loyal reader of Saxon Lake’s local paper, it was only a once-a-week edition, and I was forced to get my daily news from somewhere else. I didn’t like any of the newscasters on the local TV stations, and the national news programs were only on at night. I supposed I could be like Bekah, who got her news from Facebook and Twitter, but I was just too old-fashioned and preferred my news in paper form. I liked the smudges of ink newsprint left behind on my fingers.

  I went into the guest bathroom and found Lily curled up on her blanket. She stood up and stretched and made her funny little trilling sound as she wound herself between my ankles. “Let’s see how you get along with Beryl,” I said and stepped out into the hallway. Beryl was sitting in the doorway of my bedroom, his tail curled around his feet. He was watching Lily intently as she crept out of the bathroom, sides moving like a bellows as she approached him. He closed his eyes and looked away. She closed her eyes and looked away. And just like that, there was peace once more in my house.

  I picked up Lily’s bowls and headed down to the kitchen to make coffee. Lily followed hot on my heels and waited while I filled her bowls. She gobbled up her food immediately and then sat off to the side, washing her face and head. Moments later, Beryl deigned to join us, and I filled his bowls as well. The phone rang while I was enjoying the first cup of coffee of the day. “Hello?” I answered, my mind a thousand miles away, mentally running through the list of patients I would see today, what work there was to do in the drying shed here at home and the stillroom at the shop, and the never-ending list of farm chores that I still had to conquer. My thoughts skittered away from Viki and Barry’s deaths, refusing to think of them.

  “Bryony. How are you, dear?” It was Adele Vincent.

  I groaned inwardly. Adele was the very last person I wanted to talk to right now. “Oh, hello, Adele,” I said, trying to force the annoyance out of my voice, “I'm pretty upset. I'm sure you’ve heard what happened last night.”

  “Yes, I did. And it's just awful. That poor Viki Childress. Do you know what happened to her?”

  “No, I sure don't. Doc Hutchins said there would be an autopsy. It's just tragic. She was such a nice girl. So helpful in the shop. Mom’s going to be hard-pressed to replace her.”

  Adele made a slightly disgusted sound, and I grinned. Adele was, no doubt, fishing for something nasty to say about Viki. I would have to be a fool to just hand her something that would spread like wildfire throughout the village. “Do you know her people?” Adele asked. “Is it true she’s an orphan and grew up in a Catholic church?”

  “Her mother’s listed on her employment application as her emergency contact. She lives in Fort Collins. I assume Sheriff Jensen will have contacted her by now.” There was a sudden knock at my door, and I grinned at the welcome interruption. “Gosh, Adele,” I said, sending up a silent prayer of thanks for my visitor, whoever it was. “I sure would love to sit and chat with you, but someone’s at the front door. I’ll talk with you soon. Take care. Bye-bye,” I said, hanging up before Adele could get a word in.

  I left Beryl sitting on the floor, staring mournfully into his full kibble bowl, no doubt wishing it would magically transform into salmon. Lily followed me as I went to answer the door. I let out a small but pleased gasp of surprise when I spotted Dean in his sheriff’s uniform standing on my porch with a drink carrier of to-go cups and a white bag with Sunny Side Up Cafe’s smiling sun logo on it. “Hi,” I said brightly. “What brings you by?”

  “Mornin’.” He frowned when he saw me still in my pajamas, but held out the coffee and bag to me anyway. “I brought breakfast. I thought I’d catch you up on the investigation.” He glanced down at my feet. “Who’s that?”

  “Barry’s kitten, Lily. I didn’t want her there all alone until his family figures out what to do about his things, so I brought her home with me.” I ushered him inside, and he followed me through the house to the sunny breakfast nook just off the kitchen. The nook’s huge windows overlooked my small but tidy backyard, and through the rose-covered arbor at the rear, you could see into the rest of the farm’s acreage. The nook was my favorite place in the house. Hanging from a large aspen tree just outside the windows, there was a bird feeder covered with juncos, chickadees, finches, sparrows. Sometimes even Stellar’s jays and camp robbers would stop by. My perennial borders were in full bloom, and their lively colors made a nice foil to the dark, glossy green lawn and the screen of boxwood hedges that lined the yard. Even in the winter, the spot had a beautiful view.

  I held my hand out to the best seat in the nook. “Have a seat. What’s in the bag? Do we need forks and plates?”

  Dean sat down and opened the bag. “Just napkins.” He pulled out two enormous fruit danishes and put them down on the napkins I handed him before I sat down across from him.

  “Those look lovely,” I said as I accepted a cup of coffee and a danish that looked like it was either raspberry or blackberry. “Any news from Doc about Barry or Viki’s cause of death?”

  Dean nodded as he took a bite of his danish. After chewing thoroughly and swallowing, he dug a notebook out of his shirt pocket and said, “Toxicology report’s back from CBI. Barry had something called coniine and conhydrine in his system. Someone slipped it into his lemonade.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. “Coniine and conhydrine? Are you sure?” I shuddered.

  Dean showed me his notebook where he’d written down the words. “That’s what the CBI tech told me. Why? Do they mean something to you?”

  I nodded. “They’re two of the poisonous compounds in hemlock.”

  “Hemlock? The stuff that Socrates drank to kill himself with?”

  “Yes. The very one.”

  Dean frowned and slid the notebook back into his pocket. “Do you sell it?”

  “Yes. It’s useful in relieving bad coughs and helps with epilepsy.” I frowned. “But I haven’t given anyone a prescription for it in years.”

  “You still have it in your shop?”

  “Yes, but it’s under lock and key in my office. Only Bekah and I have access to the cabinet. I keep the keys on my ring, which I keep in my purse while I’m in the shop. I lock it up in my desk.”

  “Do you still have records of whomever you’ve given it to in the past?”

  “I do. Upstairs. Be right back.” I hurried upstairs to my home office and rummaged through my files before finding a prescription that was three years old and had only been filled once. I rushed into my bedroom to dress then. I slipped on a pair of faded blue jeans, a red-and-white striped t-shirt, and ran a comb through my hair before returning to the kitchen.

  If Dean noticed the quick wardrobe ch
ange, he didn’t mention it. I sat down again and handed him the prescription. He looked it over and frowned. “This is three years old. This family doesn’t even live in the village anymore.”

  “Yeah, like I said, I haven’t prescribed it in years.” I was silent as I thought about hemlock for a moment. “It grows wild around here, though. It’s in the carrot family. In fact, it looks just like wild carrot. There have been cases of people who accidentally eat it, thinking it’s just a carrot. Maybe... Maybe the chef at the Raven and Fox harvested some and added it to their food at the bake sale?”

  “It’s worth looking into.” Dean held up the slip of paper. “Mind if I make a copy of this?”

  “I’ll do it. I have a copier upstairs.” I returned to my office, and as I waited for the printer-fax-copier to warm up, I took a moment to wonder if I was a suspect in Barry’s murder. I had an ironclad alibi for Viki’s murder if Doc Hutchins’ timeline was right. Nine hours before I discovered her body, I’d been at the sheriff’s station or driving to the shop. I also had an alibi for Barry’s death.

  The copier finished, and I returned to the nook and handed the copy to Dean before sitting down once more. “Do you have any leads in Viki’s murder? Fingerprints maybe? Or other evidence?” I wasn’t certain how much information he’d share with me considering I was a civilian, but I was curious and wanted to help somehow.

  He stared at me for a long moment, obviously debating the wisdom in telling me anything. Finally, he nodded and said, “We didn’t recover any prints other than Viki’s on the knife, so the killer probably wore gloves. He—or she, maybe—also didn’t bring the knife. It matched a set on Viki’s kitchen counter.”

  “So her murder was probably a crime of passion, then? When I spoke with Doc last night, he said there weren’t any hesitation wounds and only one visible mark.”

  My casual use of forensic terminology gave Dean pause. He studied me over the table, long fingers wrapped around his to-go cup of coffee as he looked at me. One corner of his mouth curled in a half-smile, and he nodded a bit. “You watch too much CSI.” The smiled bloomed fully for a second before disappearing. “Crime of passion, sure. Or he was familiar enough with Viki and her house to know there were plenty of murder weapons available there and it wasn’t necessary to bring one.” Dean shrugged a little and finished his coffee before continuing. “After a search of Viki’s bedroom and the desk in her kitchen, we found evidence that she’s the blackmailer.”