Dosed to Death

by P. D. Workman

  Was it really any different from any of the others? Kenzie too felt more anxious being there. Maybe it was just because Brooke had lived there and her presence still clung to the place. Her clothing and empty suitcase were a reminder that her life had been cut short very suddenly. And all of the stuff that had been thrown around in the living room made it feel like a war zone. Someplace unsafe.

  Their search of the living room was cursory. The kitchen hadn’t been used much. There was nothing in the fridge and only a few dirty dishes in the sink. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  39

  Collins was waiting for them, but he was waiting farther from the cabin than Redd had. He didn’t want to talk to them. So they didn’t bother to tell him that they had taken his coke. He would figure that out pretty quickly.

  The next closest cabin was Raven’s. Kenzie approached it awkwardly. They should probably have gotten someone else to supervise them while searching Raven’s cabin. She shouldn’t be allowed to be in the cabin while they were searching it, just like the others hadn’t been allowed to be in there until they were finished. But there was still an issue if Kenzie and Zachary searched it alone, the accusation that they had planted something.

  Raven produced her own key and unlocked the door. She pushed it open and stepped back to let them in first. Kenzie and Zachary entered and looked around. Once they had again shed their outerwear, Zachary reached into his pocket and pulled out his digital recorder. Showing it to them both, he pressed the record button, announced the date and time and who was there, and slid it back into his shirt pocket. There would be one unbiased record, at least.

  “Do you want to wait for us outside?” Kenzie asked.

  Raven shook her head. “I’m not standing around outside. You’re taking at least half an hour to forty-five minutes to check each cabin. I’ll be a Popsicle in that time.”

  “We should stay together then, so that... everyone knows what everyone else is doing.”

  Raven rolled her eyes. “I trust you.”

  Kenzie didn’t know what to say to that. It wouldn’t exactly be friendly to tell Raven that they didn’t trust her. But it was the truth.

  “I’m going to get the fire going,” Raven said. “I know you don’t like fires, but it’s cold in here and I want to get it warming up.”

  Kenzie looked at Raven, then at Zachary. Zachary was, Kenzie thought, getting more accustomed to the fact that fires had to be lit while the power was out. He was starting to get desensitized, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be in the same room as a fire or would be able to watch her.

  “Why don’t you get started on the bedroom, then?” Kenzie suggested. “You can see whether there is anything in there, and I’ll keep Raven company for a few minutes. Once the fire is going, we’ll join you.”

  Zachary nodded. He swallowed, looked as if he were going to say something, then walked out of the room without another word.

  Raven watched him go. “He really does have a problem with fire, doesn’t he?”

  Kenzie was getting tired of everybody’s interest in this fact. They had told everyone that it was a problem. They had said why. Zachary had shown off one of his scars. Wasn’t it time for them to all just get over it?

  “He was trapped in a house fire when he was ten,” Kenzie informed Raven yet again. “He couldn’t get out. He was burned. It would be a big deal for you, too.”

  “I know... but for so long. I mean, there were things that happened to me when I was a kid... but I got over them. You have to go on with life. Spending your whole life being afraid of something like that... it seems like such a waste.”

  Raven gathered her fire-building materials together, setting lightweight materials over the glowing embers, topped with larger sticks and logs. In a few minutes, she had a roaring fire going. Kenzie looked for another way for Zachary to get out of the house. Whether he went out the front or the back, he was going to have to go past the fireplace. Was that why Raven had built it so large? Just to see how Zachary handled it? To see if she could send him into a panic attack?

  “Pull the screen over it and let’s go join Zachary,” she told Raven.

  Raven looked at her for a moment, as if she weren’t sure whether she was going to do it or not, then she pulled the screen over the fireplace to keep embers from flying out and got up. She and Kenzie went to the bedroom.

  Raven hadn’t been kidding when she had said that her cabin was a virtual pharmacy. Zachary gestured to the side table where he had staged everything he had found. There had to be a dozen bottles, a combination of prescription and over-the-counter aids. Kenzie started looking through them. She had half-expected to find heavy-duty prescriptions that would indicate that Raven was under treatment for cancer, an immune disease, or some other big issue that they were trying to suppress or cure with a wide range of experimental treatments.

  But they were mostly psychotropic. Meds for depression, anxiety, mood control, sleep, along with a variety of painkillers and stomach ailments. Raven had said that bad things had happened to her as a kid and she had gotten over them. Kenzie suspected that she hadn’t actually gotten over anything. She was just medicating heavily enough that they didn’t bother her as much anymore. If she stopped treatment, those demons would come galloping back full-force. Kenzie started separating out the drugs that she knew could have hallucinations and mood changes as side effects, which was the majority of them. Raven watched her, eyes shut partway, acting as if she didn’t care what Kenzie left and what she took away. If it had been Kenzie, she would definitely have been panicking over someone taking half of her “pharmacy” away. She had promised to dispense whatever the guests needed as they needed it, but Raven was pretty trusting to just take them at their word.

  “A lot of these could be a problem,” Kenzie said, unnecessarily, she was sure.

  Raven shrugged. “So does that mean you think I’m a killer? I’m the poisoner?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that many of these could be a problem if they got mixed in with people’s food.”

  “Accidentally,” Raven said sardonically.

  “Well... okay, I know it isn’t something that happened accidentally. I actually don’t know what to say about that.”

  “I didn’t poison anyone.”

  “Okay.”

  “You believe me? Just because I said it?”

  “It isn’t my place to figure out whether you did it or not. Just to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”

  “This isn’t going to stop anyone from getting hurt.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean... it will just necessitate whoever it is changing their method. If they actually want to kill someone else. Maybe they don’t want to. Maybe it was just a joke. But if they actually want to kill someone else in the group... anyone else, some random target... then they’ll have to find another method. A different kind of poison. A gun. Knocking them over the head with a fireplace poker and leaving them to freeze to death outside.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ve read Agatha Christie, you know. There are lots of ways to kill someone who gets in between you and what you want.”

  Kenzie looked at Zachary and didn’t say anything. She tried to pick up all the pill bottles, then realized she wouldn’t be able to carry them or shove them all into her pockets, even with the large pockets of her outdoor coat.

  “Do you have a bag I could put these in?”

  Raven went over to her suitcase and pulled out a large zip-top plastic bag. Probably what she had transported the pill bottles in in the first place. Kenzie filled it up with the pill bottles. She looked at Zachary. “Is that it? Anything else?”

  “I haven’t checked the bathroom yet.”

  Kenzie sighed. She headed toward the bathroom. “Do you have anything else in there?”

  Raven shrugged. “I don’t know what else you’ll want to take.”

  Kenzie entered the room and found more pill bottles on the counter around the sink. As well a
s the pills, she also found eye drops.

  “Seriously?” Raven asked. “I have contacts. I can’t wear them without my drops.”

  “You should have artificial tears. This particular kind of eye drops can be very dangerous if taken internally. Squirt a bottle full of these into someone’s food, and there would be serious problems.”

  Raven shrugged. “Why would I waste the stuff in someone’s food?”

  Kenzie worked in silence, gathering up the rest of the potentially dangerous items and putting them into the bulging bag. “What else have you got around?”

  “Booze in the liquor cabinet. Some of it mine, some not. I don’t know what else. If there is rat poison in the kitchen, it’s not mine.”

  Kenzie walked down the hall back out to the living room. The fire was crackling away, throwing waves of heat into the room. Kenzie appreciated being nice and toasty, but was still worried about how Zachary would handle it. She stood in front of the fireplace to help screen Zachary from it, and looked back.

  He proceeded down the hallway slowly, sweat glistening on his face that wasn’t just from the warmth of the fire.

  “Anchor,” Kenzie suggested. “Five things you see?”

  He looked at Raven and clearly didn’t want to do the exercise in front of her. He pushed himself onward, the sweat gathering at his temples and dripping down his face. He walked past Kenzie without looking at her or stopping for a kiss as he often did when they passed each other in the hall.

  “You’re doing good,” Kenzie encouraged.

  He said nothing, putting on a burst of speed and going into the kitchen, where he started opening and shutting cupboards loudly. Kenzie looked around for the liquor cabinet and started going through it. She wasn’t sure why she was bothering. Liquor in abundance could be found at the farmhouse. She didn’t think that was what had caused everyone’s symptoms. There could be something that was more likely to cause hallucinations. Absinthe was supposed to. But she didn’t find any in the cabinet, and she didn’t find any other pills or substances wedged in with the bottles. She put them back away and closed the liquor cabinet.

  While Zachary continued to check the kitchen, Kenzie looked for any other hiding places in the living room. Behind books or cushions, in the boots at the door. She didn’t find anything else unexpected. Raven hadn’t expected her cabin to be searched, and she hadn’t made any effort to hide any of the many medications that could have been used to poison anyone. Kenzie suspected that if Raven had wanted to kill someone with poison, she would have done it easily. She was certainly the best equipped out of all of the cabins they had searched so far.

  Kenzie realized that there was no more noise coming from the kitchen, and looked around the corner to make sure Zachary was okay. His face was still shiny with sweat and, having apparently finished his search, he was frozen, staring off into space. Kenzie went to the door and pulled her coat on, then took Zachary’s from its peg. She went into the kitchen and touched his arm.

  “Come on. Here’s your coat. Get it on and then we can get out of here.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t look at her. Kenzie pulled one sleeve on over his hand, and he automatically went through the motions of pulling it on the rest of the way and putting his other hand back to feel for the other sleeve. Kenzie helped him to get it on, then put her hand behind his back and guided him to the door. She put on her boots and indicated Zachary’s to him.

  “Boots. Let’s get your boots on, then we’ll go.”

  He didn’t move. His eyes were glazed, far away from the cabin. Stuck in a flashback to the fire, unable to break free from it. Kenzie opened the door, letting in a gust of frigid air. Zachary put his arm up in front of his face to fend it off, blinking and grimacing. He coughed, his intakes of breath between the deep coughs sounding strangled. Kenzie kicked one of the boots over onto his toes.

  “Get those on.”

  Zachary looked down, and with fumbling fingers was able to get them set upright again and put his feet into them. Raven took her coat from the peg beside the door, groaning.

  “Just when I get it nice and warm, you have to do that. Come on, everyone out so it can warm up again. I want it to be nice and warm when I get back.”

  They still had several more cabins and the outbuildings to search. Kenzie’s head hurt. She wasn’t sure how long they could keep going. They would need rest and sleep. Zachary especially would be wiped out after a flashback. He always was.

  40

  Zachary was still coughing and wheezing in the cold air outside, nearly doubling over with the wrenching coughs.

  “Are you okay?” Kenzie asked, bending over and trying to get close enough to see and hear if he responded to her. “Do you need an inhaler? What’s going on?”

  As far as she knew, he didn’t have asthma and didn’t use an inhaler, but sometimes people hid things from each other. Especially things that made them look weak. Kenzie already knew many of Zachary’s weaknesses and perhaps he had tried to keep at least one thing a secret.

  Zachary shook his head. “The smoke,” he croaked, dragging the cold outside air into his lungs in loud wheezes.

  “There’s no smoke. It’s okay. Try to slow down. Look around. You’re not there. You’re safe. There is no smoke.”

  Though, of course, the tang of woodsmoke filled the air as everyone used their fireplaces to keep their cabins warm. But it wasn’t enough to impede Zachary’s breathing. She knew he was still caught in the past, a ten-year-old rescued from a burning house. She knew about the burns he had suffered. And the most dangerous thing about a house fire was not the burns, but smoke inhalation. Tyrrell had said that he and the other kids had suffered from smoke inhalation, and they had been away from the fire, behind closed doors. Zachary had been right in the middle of it. When they had pulled him out of the house, they would have put an oxygen mask over his face to help him breathe.

  With one arm around his shoulders to keep him in place, Kenzie brought Zachary’s scarf up to his mouth and nose to help to warm the air that he was pulling in. He would end up with inflamed and congested lungs if he kept breathing the frigid air so deeply. With the scarf over his mouth and nose, she cupped her hand loosely around them, imitating the shape of an oxygen mask.

  “You’re safe. You feel that? You can breathe. Nice warm, filtered air. Slow down and feel it. Just try to breathe normally. You’re safe. You’re out of the house. Just take a few minutes to breathe.”

  Raven was stomping her feet, impatient for them to go into the next cabin. But Kenzie didn’t feel bad for making her wait. It was Raven’s own fault that Zachary was dealing with a flashback. She had, Kenzie was sure, fully intended to trigger Zachary’s anxiety with the fire. She wanted to know just how far it would tip him over the edge. So Raven was going to have to wait until he was ready to go on, and she could get nice and chilly while she waited.

  Zachary’s breathing started to slow down, the coughs and choked gasps smoothing out. Kenzie kept her hand over the scarf to keep it in place. He needed the warm air, not air that was so cold it would freeze the moist lining of his lungs. His body started to relax under her other arm, shoulders releasing, neck and back straightening a little as he looked around, locating himself in space, getting reoriented.

  “Where...?”

  “We’re just outside Raven’s cabin. We’re finished with hers.”

  “And we should get on to Jack’s,” Raven encouraged, arms wrapped around herself, stamping her feet to keep the circulation going.

  Zachary looked around, studying Raven’s face for a moment, then looking around slowly to cement all the landmarks in his mind. Pulling himself out of the past and remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He took long, slow breaths. He touched Kenzie’s hand over his mouth, then gently nudged it away, continuing to breathe slowly and evenly. He held the scarf against his mouth and nose himself.

  “Okay. I’m okay.”

  “Are you ready to go on?”

 
; Zachary looked at Jack’s cabin, then turned and looked longingly back at their own cabin. “I need... a break.”

  “If we take time out now, this is going to take all night. I’m not sure how we’re going to get done as it is.” Kenzie rubbed her head, pounding from lack of sleep.

  “Maybe it’s too much, tonight.”

  “But we need to check the cabins before people can go home and go to bed. To make sure that everyone is safe. If we don’t, whoever did this can just go back to their cabins and hide the poison and we’ll never find it.”

  “I need a break,” Zachary insisted. “You... keep going. I’ll send Tyrrell, he can help for a while.”

  Kenzie didn’t like it. She wanted to work with Zachary. He was the trained investigator. He was the one who had cultivated his ability to observe and remember tiny details. To know in his gut when something was wrong, and be able to look until he found it. Tyrrell... he would be an extra witness and a deterrent from any attack, but that was all. He didn’t have the same skills.

  But people had limits, and apparently Zachary had reached his. She knew he would push through if he could. He often pushed himself too far, so if he was saying that he was done, she needed to listen. She didn’t want him curled up in a ball on his bed for the rest of the time they were at the Lodge.

  “Okay, send Tyrrell over.” She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I’m going to get started.”

  Zachary opened his mouth to argue about her starting on her own, then closed it. He turned away from her and went back to their cabin.

  Kenzie motioned toward Jack’s cabin. “Let’s go,” she told Raven.

  She managed to find the key before her fingers froze, and opened the door.

  Kenzie wasn’t sure what she had been expecting from Jack Fowler. He had given her the creeps since the first day. She supposed she had expected to see squalor, maybe a shrine or a pinboard with lengths of red yarn connecting various newspaper articles, like they always had on TV when the police finally got to the serial killer’s private lair.