“As in ‘team’?”
He nodded. “I think he’s going to use this case as a yardstick to determine which of us gets the senior position.”
I resisted the urge to stamp my foot. “That’s so unfair! You’ve been a homicide detective longer than Charlie!”
“We both put in the same amount of time on homicide; we just did it in different towns. And I hate to admit it, but Charlie might have a slight edge.”
“You mean his connection to the mayor,” I sniffed. “You know I’m going to hate this Charlie Callahan, right?”
“Your loyalty is appreciated. But you don’t have to dislike him on my account, Syd.” He shot me a lopsided grin. “Charlie can come across as quite personable.”
“Personable, huh?” It had always been my experience that folks described thusly were often anything but. “Does that mean you think he should get the senior slot?”
“Oh, heck no. I’m better qualified.” Will pulled out his notebook and pen and flipped to a clean page. “So let’s get your statement down. What happened here today?”
I recounted the afternoon’s events. “Ulla really didn’t look well,” I finished. “Cherry Dunphy was pretty certain she’d had some sort of allergic reaction. Her manager didn’t seem to be aware Ulla had any allergies; then again, he also said he wasn’t privy to her complete medical history. Which reminds me, he was going to have her assistant, Savannah Blade, check on it.”
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to follow up on that.” He scribbled on his pad. “How about right before her attack? Notice anything unusual?”
Aside from her arguing with the mysterious shadow? As I debated whether to bring that up, someone standing near me cleared his throat. Loudly.
“Ah, Will. There you are.”
I turned my head and saw a tall guy with curly hair standing there. My first impression from the man’s muscular build was that he probably spent a great deal of time in the gym. The tan blazer and matching chinos he wore seemed molded to his angular frame. I’m bad at guessing ages, but I put his as a few years younger than Will and myself, somewhere around thirty, thirty-two. I had no doubt that when he was younger, he’d most likely been characterized as a pretty boy. His features seemed Ken-doll perfect, as were the white teeth he flashed in a quick smile. His ice-blue eyes widened for a moment as they rested on me, then narrowed as he switched his gaze to Will. “Harris and Robertson are taking names and statements, but it doesn’t appear that any of the people who were here for the signing noticed anything significant.”
“You never know,” was Will’s terse answer. “Sometimes the least significant thing turns out to be a real clue.”
“Noted. I’m also having Ramirez bag everything from the café area. And the trash too. Any food wrappers, cups, or bottles with lipstick stains.”
“I don’t recall Ulla eating anything,” I said, “but of course she wasn’t within my range of vision for most of the event. I do know she was drinking some bottled water.”
Charlie Callahan’s gaze rocketed back to me. “And you are?”
“Sydney McCall. I’m one of the shelter directors.”
“Ah, so you’re the infamous Syd,” he said with a wide grin. He held out his hand. “I’ve heard all about the part you played in tracking down Trowbridge Littleton’s murderer.”
I felt my cheeks start to sear as he pumped my hand up and down. “I think the press overplayed my role in that,” I remarked.
He released my hand with a deep chuckle. “Modest and pretty.” He pointed a finger at Will. “Don’t let her go, Worthington.” Abruptly he snapped his gaze back to me. “So, she ate nothing that you noticed? Not even a breath mint?”
“That’s right, but as I said, I was in the cat pop-up area for most of the event. Her staff could probably tell you more. I know her assistant and producer were right out there at the table with her, and so was her manager.”
Charlie Callahan raised a hand to scratch behind one ear. “Harris is talking to them. What about Ms. Townsend’s things? Where are they?”
“In the storage area, along with our supplies. I’ll show you.”
I took both men over to the storage area and pointed out the section that had been assigned to Ulla. Both pulled out latex gloves, and just as they were snapping them on, Wendy appeared in the doorway. She looked at them, then at me, and planted both hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?”
Will started to step forward, but Callahan was a second quicker. He peeled his jacket back and flashed his badge. “Detective Charles Callahan, Deer Park PD.” He picked up a tote bag from the floor and held it aloft. “Is this Ulla Townsend’s purse?”
“No, it’s mine. Ulla never carried purses. She didn’t like them, claimed no one ever made one big enough to house all of her paraphernalia.” Wendy glanced around and then pointed to a tote that was lying on the floor, yawning open, at the other end of the room where the shelter supplies were. “That looks like her bag, but what is it doing on that side of the room?”
“She tossed it over there,” I piped up. As three pair of eyes swung toward me, I added, “I ran into her here shortly before her attack. I saw her toss the bag over toward our side of the room, but as far as I can recall, the bag was closed, not wide open like that.”
“Fans have been sneaking in and out of this area all day,” Wendy remarked, stamping her foot. “We told the store manager we should have been assigned a locked area, but—” She suddenly clamped her lips together and frowned. “Never mind.”
I laid my hand on Will’s arm. “This was the only spot that could accommodate everyone’s needs,” I said. “There were people milling around back here all day, so I imagine it’s possible that a fan could have gotten in, maybe taken a keepsake.”
He arched his brow. “So what you’re saying is it’s probably a waste of time to dust for prints.”
“Well, you’ll probably get more prints than you bargained for.”
“We have to take everything that belongs to the CNC crew into evidence,” Charlie Callahan barked out. “We’ll take a complete inventory and notify you when you can pick everything up.”
“And when might that be?” Wendy asked.
“A day, possibly two or three.”
Wendy’s eyes widened. “You mean … we have to stay here?”
“It’s standard operating procedure in an investigation of this sort.”
“ ‘An investigation of this sort’?” Her eyes narrowed, and then she let out a gasp and took a step backward. “Good Lord! You think that Ulla was … that someone deliberately …”
“We’re not making any assumptions now,” Charlie said smoothly. “We don’t have the exact cause of death yet after all.” He whipped a small notebook out of his pocket and flipped a few pages. “According to a statement given by her manager at the hospital, Ms. Townsend had no known allergies.”
“Yes, I heard him say it,” Wendy said impatiently. “I was standing right next to him.”
“Wonderful.” Callahan snapped his notebook shut. “Then you understand that we’re still not certain if her death was related to an allergic reaction, or if something else might have caused it. Until then, her death is labeled a ‘suspicious death,’ and yes, I—and my partner, here—are advising you and the others not to leave town until we sort this out.”
I saw Will’s cheeks flush slightly, and I could tell he was annoyed at the way Callahan had seemed to swoop in and take charge. I remembered the way Bennington had handled the investigation of Littleton’s death. As much as I’d disliked Bennington, he hadn’t been half as high-handed with Will as Callahan appeared to be. Then again, he wasn’t fighting for a top investigative spot on the force.
Wendy looked perturbed. “So this is a murder investigation,” she said slowly.
“Not at the moment. Right now, it’s an ‘unofficial’ investigation into some strange circumstances,” Charlie Callahan said smoothly. “It would definitely speed things up, though, if you could pr
ovide us with the name of Ulla’s doctor.”
Wendy let out a snort. “Ulla didn’t have a doctor per se. She wasn’t a big believer in the medical field. She felt people went to doctors too quickly with every little ache and pain, and the medicine they prescribed often made you worse. Cured one thing and broke down another. She preferred natural remedies for healing purposes. She went to a New Age physician.”
Charlie Callahan looked completely confused. “New Age? You mean a doctor who heals with crystals and potions? Stuff like that?”
Wendy’s lips curved slightly upward. “Hardly. Most New Age doctors provide customized and individualized health care solutions focused mainly on nutrition and lifestyle modification. They shy away from traditional medicine in favor of age-old remedies.”
Callahan let out a derisive snort. “Sounds pretty prehistoric to me.”
“Don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it, Detective. Ulla was rarely sick since I’ve known her. Savannah’s known her longer, and she says the same thing.” She pulled absently at her earlobe. “Maybe there is something to this natural healing stuff. I don’t know; it seemed to work well for Ulla—until today anyway.”
I noticed a flush similar to Will’s start to creep up Callahan’s neck. “I don’t suppose you have the name of this New Age doctor?”
“Was it Dr. Gray?” I piped up. As the two detectives turned to stare at me, I added quickly, “I heard Savannah tell Ulla she had a call from a Dr. Gray. She seemed very anxious to take it.”
Wendy frowned. “I don’t know who Dr. Gray is, but Ulla’s doctor’s name is Raymond Lewandowski. I’m sure Savannah can give you more information.” She paused, and her tongue darted out and swiped at her lower lip. “Ulla had another motive for being here in Deer Park, besides helping out the shelter,” she said.
Both men had started to put their notebooks away, but now they pulled them out again. “Would you know what that other motive was?” Will asked.
“Only what I happened to overhear earlier. She was on her phone, and she was telling someone that it was imperative she find her, and the last she’d heard, she was in Deer Park.”
Callahan glanced up from his scribbling. “She? A woman?”
Wendy inclined her head. “Yes. That’s all I know. I’m sorry. I believe that Ulla was trying to trace someone, and she hoped to find her here in Deer Park. Whether she did or not, I have no idea.” She paused. “And now we’ll probably never know.”
“Or maybe we will,” Callahan murmured. He tucked his notebook back into his pocket and plucked at Will’s sleeve. “I’m going to round up the rest of these cable people and escort ’em to the station, get their statements. Can you supervise the cleanup here?”
Only the muscle twitching in Will’s lower jaw betrayed his annoyance, at least to me. “Sure,” he said tightly. “I’ll wrap things up here and meet you back at Headquarters.”
“Good man,” said Charlie, and then he motioned to Wendy to follow him. They walked off, and once they were out of earshot, I turned to Will.
“He’s acting like he’s already in charge.”
“Yeah, well, having a political connection will do that every time,” Will muttered. He brushed a hand across his eyes. “You and the others can take the cats back to the shelter,” he said. “I’ll come by either later or tomorrow and get all of your formal statements, okay? Like you said, you were back here with the cats, not out front.” He gave me a brief nod and was gone. I stood rooted to the spot, thinking.
I knew Will, knew how to gauge his reactions. I also knew the circumstances surrounding Ulla’s death bothered him. I could tell he wasn’t pleased that this investigation had become a job contest between him and Charlie Callahan. Both men would be eager to solve the case, which meant they’d grab onto any lead they found like a starving dog clutching a juicy bone. Case in point: Wendy’s revelation regarding the real reason Ulla had agreed to replace Dudley Simmons at the book signing event. Suppose Ulla had been trying to track down someone to settle an old score … how did Maggie fit in? Had the person Ulla had been trying to locate been Maggie? Had she found her, and had they had some sort of argument that escalated into …
I shook my head. No, I absolutely was not going there. No way.
I whipped my phone out and punched in Leila’s number. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, I was just gonna call you. I’m on my way to the office to write up my story. It’s not exactly the way I expected today’s event to end.”
“Me either,” I said. “We’re still at Crowden’s. The police are here.”
“I figured. Is Will in charge of the investigation?”
“Funny you should ask. It seems Ulla’s demise has turned into a sort of job interview.”
“Did you just say ‘a job interview’? What the heck?”
I quickly explained about Charlie Callahan, ending with the little kernel of information Wendy had provided. “I’m afraid that when this investigation kicks into high gear, Maggie might pop up high on the suspect list.”
“Maggie?” The surprise in Leila’s voice was evident. “As in Kat’s assistant Maggie Shayne? Why would you say that?”
“It’s a long story, best told over a good meal,” I said. “I could use some advice. I need to come up with some course of action.”
“I know what that means. You’re planning on investigating Ulla’s death, aren’t you? I thought after your last experience you said you’d leave all future investigations to the police.”
“That was before it appeared as if Maggie might be suspect numero uno and before the investigation started taking on Keystone Cops aspects.”
“I take it you’re not too impressed with Callahan’s detective skills?”
“He seems like a grandstander, one who’ll latch onto someone and hone in on them without even looking at other options.”
“In other words, you’re afraid this Charlie Callahan will railroad Maggie, and Will won’t be able to stop him.”
I tried to keep the smile out of my voice. “I knew there was a reason why I’ve always liked you. You’re quick on the uptake. So, what do you say? Do you want to help me or not?”
My bestie sighed. “Sure, why not. Who knows, maybe I’ll get another front-page story like last time. Only, please, please, promise me you won’t confront the killer again. That shaved a few years off my life.”
“You? Think what it did to me,” I joked. “So, we brainstorm tonight? What shall I order? Chinese? Thai? Or the classic double-cheese pizza?”
“Mm … none of the above. I think we should go a little crazy,” Leila said.
I frowned. The last time she’d suggested doing something crazy, I’d gotten a butterfly tattoo on my right hip. “What did you have in mind, exactly?”
“How about Antonio’s at six thirty? Everyone raves about that place, and I’m dying to try it. This is a great excuse.”
Antonio’s was a new, upscale Italian eatery that had recently opened at the other end of town. I’d been hoping to experience it for the first time with Will, but it didn’t seem as if that was going to happen anytime soon. “Okay. It’s a date,” I said, and hung up. Before I went to help get the cats ready for transport, I tried Maggie’s number once again. Voicemail.
This time, I didn’t leave a message.
Chapter Ten
We managed to pack up all the cats and supplies and made it back to the shelter a little after three. While Sissy and Viola got the cats settled back in, Kat took the stack of paperwork back to her office to start reviewing the applications. I locked myself in my little cubbyhole, fired up my laptop, and the first thing I did was Google “Ulla Townsend collapse.” News of her collapse was all over the Internet—no big surprise there, considering her popularity. I clicked on one article that had been written by Joan Niven, a reporter for the Charleston Chronicle and read:
A source at City Hospital reported that Ms. Townsend appeared to be suffering from anaphylactic shock. Anaphylaxis is a sudden, severe alle
rgic reaction. Within minutes of being exposed to an allergy trigger, a chain reaction is started that can cause several things to happen, such as widening of the blood vessels, lowering of blood pressure, hives, and swelling. Epinephrine was administered, but not fast enough to prevent the attack from being fatal.
The cause of the allergic reaction is not yet known, but local officials are investigating to determine what might have caused the reaction. A source at the hospital revealed that anaphylaxis attacks are most common after the victim consumes an item he or she might be allergic to, such as peanuts. It’s unclear right now as to whether Ms. Townsend’s reaction might have been the result of something she consumed at the event.
I sat back, drumming my fingers on the arms of my leather captain’s chair. I was willing to bet that if Ulla had an allergy, it wasn’t to food. What else could cause anaphylaxis attacks? I hit Google again, and a few seconds later I found my answer on a popular medical site. Anaphylaxis, a severe, sometimes life-threatening condition, could affect multiple organs, such as the heart or lungs. There were many things that could trigger a reaction, like eggs, peanuts, soy, insect bites, or stings from bees or hornets—and even some pain medications.
I leaned back in my chair and laced my hands behind my neck. It didn’t seem as if any of the causes listed could have possibly contributed to Ulla’s death. She hadn’t eaten anything as far as I knew, and there hadn’t seemed to be any insects around, at least none of the flying kind. She hadn’t had a vaccine or a blood transfusion, and, according to Wendy, she didn’t take prescription medicine. I scrolled back to the beginning of the article and found what I was looking for: symptoms typically occurred within 30 minutes of exposure and in most cases developed rapidly. It was considered rare for the onset of symptoms to be delayed for hours.
Rare, but not unheard of. I sighed. It would figure that Ulla Townsend could be one of the rare cases. Of course, this was all still speculation until the official cause of death was revealed. In the meantime, what was another possibility? That she might somehow have been poisoned? If she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, the “how” was certainly a brain-teaser.
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