"That's what they said. I'm sure there are other teams involved, but it's their case. And since it seems as though they're not doing their job, I feel I have to do it for them. Kit's not guilty. He wouldn't hurt anyone. He just wouldn't."
"I agree," Ian said.
That was a relief. Though I wondered if he truly meant it, or if he was just saying so for Tam's benefit.
"I'm hoping you can help me," I said to him, giving him my best Nina puppy dog eyes.
"Oh, good one with the eyes," Tam said. "No one can resist those eyes." She glanced at Ian.
He sighed and sat in a beat-up armchair. "Help with what?"
I told him my theory about Daisy and the drug connection. Ian worked for the DEA and would know about the different types of street drugs. "It was a small pill, white."
"Ian, wouldn't you know if Daisy was pushing drugs?" Tam asked. "She'd have been somewhere on your radar, right?"
Ian shifted in his seat. "Not necessarily. Small white pills? Could be any number of things, from Percocet to Tylenol to migraine medication to fertility drugs."
That narrowed things down.
Niki gazed adoringly up at Ian as he said, "Did it have any markings?"
"There was an image on one side of it, but I couldn't tell what it was."
"Could you sketch it?"
Tam dashed into the kitchen and came back with a pad of paper. I drew what I had seen and passed it to Ian. "Have you ever seen something like that before?"
He nodded. "It's Ecstasy. The street name is Corazón."
"Spanish for heart?" Tam said.
"Look at the image." Ian held up the tablet. "It's a heart. A real heart with valves, aortas, that sort of heart."
Now I knew why it had looked so familiar. I'd recently seen Riley's biology book open to a chapter on heart health.
"Corazón is local to this area. We've been trying to track down the supplier and manufacturer for months now."
"If Daisy was involved in this—" I began.
"Then she was in way over her head," Ian finished. "But right now that's not what I'm most worried about."
The hairs on my neck stood on end. "What is?"
"Because Tam was close to this case, I called in a few favors and asked to see the file. Nina, nowhere in the report does it mention that there were any white pills found next to Daisy's body."
Fourteen
My nylons itched like crazy. I wondered why women put themselves through this kind of torture until I remembered how my legs had looked that morning, a disturbing chalky white. It hadn't taken long for my summer tan to fade.
The things we women did in the name of beauty.
I put on a brave face and strode into Viewing Room 2 at the Stangle Funeral Home. About one hundred people stood elbow-to-elbow in little clusters, the overpowering scent of roses and carnations filling the air.
It was a bit surreal. I hadn't known Daisy in life, and I hadn't really learned anything more about her in death. She was a complete mystery to me. I wanted to stop and question every person I came across, but decided that would be tacky. My mother never would have forgiven me.
I found a quiet corner and pretended to look at the funeral wreaths. I knew being at the funeral home was the perfect place to learn more about Daisy, and possibly more about who wanted her dead, but my mind kept wandering back to Ian and what he'd told me.
No pills had been found with her body.
Had they simply been overlooked or mislabeled? Had BeBe slurped them up when I wasn't looking? I'd seen the way she sucked up doggy kibble . . . had she mistaken the pill for a treat?
That theory didn't make sense. After all, BeBe had been locked in that closet with Daisy for who knew how long. If she hadn't snarfed the pills in that time, why would she have later?
I wondered about a cover-up or possibly dirty police, but that might have been because there was so much talk about corruption in the department over the past six months. The conspiracy theorist in me was hard at work, desperately looking for a link.
Simply because I was desperate.
Daisy had been killed three days ago, and Kit was still the only suspect on the police's radar.
I couldn't believe Creepy Kent hadn't even been a blip.
It didn't seem right.
Thankfully, Ian had promised to look into the missing pills. If anyone could find out what happened to them, it would be Ian.
Especially with Tam nagging him until he did.
Sidestepping, I moved on to another flower arrangement. This one had LOVING DAUGHTER scrolled across a banner draping a wreath made entirely of pink roses.
Dill and Rose stood near the back of the room, greeting people. They were both dressed in black, and both looked as though neither had slept since Friday.
I spotted Kent Ingless standing alone in a far corner, eyes hard, arms folded across his chest. He wore a dark suit and looked more like a Stangle employee than a mourning lover. His expression screamed "Stay away!" Who was I to argue? Okay, I admit the man scared the bejeesus out of me, and you couldn't pay me to wander over to him and offer my condolences.
I had yet to talk with Maddie, who was speaking with a woman near the open casket.
I shuddered.
Dead people gave me the heebies, especially when they
were all dressed up, makeup and hair done as though they were going out for a night on the town instead of spending eternity in a fancy mahogany box with pink satin lining.
Shuddering again, I took a good look around the room. There weren't a lot of people I recognized. How did all of them know Daisy? Family? Friends? Clients?
I skipped from face to face, but I'd yet to see the one person I really wanted to talk to. The one who could hopefully give me some answers as to how entrenched Daisy had been in the drug trade.
Over the din of conversing voices, I heard the vague sound of my cell. People's heads turned as I pulled my phone from my bag.
"Hello," I said, backtracking from the room, making apologies to the mourners at the same time.
"I'm in," Bobby whispered.
"Why are you whispering?"
"I'm literally in."
"Oh!"
"I buddied up with Gus when he made his noontime delivery."
"Where are you now?"
"Bathroom."
I dropped my voice. "So, was I right? About the poker room?"
I edged toward the front doors. One was propped open with a wooden wedge, letting in some air. Thank goodness. It was seriously hot—too many people, too small a room. My nylons felt glued to my legs, which was almost as bad as the wet jean feeling.
"It's a full-fledged operation, Nina. I'm up two hundred bucks."
"Don't get any ideas about playing poker professionally."
He laughed softly. "It does pay well. I've got to go, someone's knocking."
He hung up.
It was nice to have verification on Mrs. Greeble's little hobby, but the question now was, what did I do about it? I'm not sure how the state of Ohio felt about poker clubs. Sure, they were illegal, but to what extent?
And okay, I wasn't so holier-than-thou to care what Mrs. Greeble did in her free time, except Riley was involved.
Which meant I had to be involved too.
And, Lord help me, Kevin.
Trying to come to grips with that bit of depressing news, I turned around and came face-to-face with Kent Ingless, Mr. Creepy himself.
I tried not to jump clear out of my panty hose.
"H-Hello," I said.
His dark eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't be here."
I really didn't like people telling me what I should and shouldn't do. It was why I nearly failed Brickhouse Krauss's tenth grade English class, and it was why I had gone into business for myself. No boss to answer to, though I had to admit, Tam came close, despite the fact that she was my assistant.
"Oh?" I said, since I couldn't come up with anything clever while my stomach was busy twisting itself into knots.
br />
He nudged me toward the door. "You don't get it, do you?"
Outside, I spotted Lewy and Joe sitting in their unmarked. I don't think I was ever happier to see them. Creepy Kent couldn't do much to me without them seeing and hopefully saving me.
I dug in my heels. "Apparently not."
"Go home, Ms. Quinn."
"I can't. I won't." I had people to talk to.
"You can, and you should."
There he went again. I clenched my fists. He'd hit a nerve, and that nerve was twitching to hit back.
"You're scary, I'll give you that," I said. "With those dark eyes and that scowl. And normally, I'd probably be hightailing it away from you, but I came here for a reason, and I'm not leaving until—"
"Nina!" a female voice exclaimed, cutting me off. "I've been looking all over for you!" Maddie pulled me into a fierce hug.
Kent glided away and disappeared into the crowd.
"Is he gone?" she whispered, still holding onto me tight.
"Yes," I squeaked out. "But I . . . can't . . . breathe."
"Oh!" She released me, her dark purple caftan billowing out. "I'm sorry! I saw him out here browbeating you and had to step in. Who was that vile little man?"
The description fit perfectly. "Kent Ingless."
Her dark eyebrows jumped. "Daisy's boyfriend?"
I nodded.
"He's the complete opposite of Kit."
"I'd noticed."
"Do you think Daisy had a split personality?" Maddie asked me, a teasing lilt to her voice.
"Honestly, it's the only thing that makes sense to me. Could you imagine giving up Kit for that?" I asked.
We both shuddered.
"Can I ask you something, Maddie?"
"Sure."
"Is Kit okay? I mean, really okay? I have a feeling he called you. Did he? I think I'm getting an ulcer from worrying about him. Especially now with the bullets and the bloodstains."
The color drained from her face.
Oops. I'd assumed she'd known . . . Suddenly, in my head, I could hear Brickhouse's voice mocking the word assume.
"What bullets? What bloodstains?"
I tried to backpedal as I told her what I knew, coloring it in a Pollyanna light.
The color slowly returned to her face. "Come with me."
We ducked into the little girls' room, and Maddie checked under all the stalls for feet. All clear.
Finally, she leaned against a sink and looked me in the eye. "He's called me twice. Once on Friday, once yesterday. Both only for a few seconds. Just enough to tell me he's okay."
Those knots in my stomach started to unravel. He was okay. Thank goodness.
"He didn't mention getting shot."
That either meant he hadn't been shot or he hadn't wanted his mom to worry. Knowing Kit, it was the latter.
"Do you know where he is?" I asked.
"Not a clue. I wish I did. Especially now, knowing he may be injured." She waited a beat, then said, "I trust this information will stay in your confidence?"
"What will?" I asked, looking completely innocent.
She laughed. "I always liked you, Nina."
That meant a lot, especially after Kent's remarks about how Daisy hadn't.
"I hope Kit finds a woman like you someday. Daisy didn't deserve him. Don't get me wrong, she had her good points. But on the whole, she was troubled. Had been since she was a teenager, and didn't want to walk the same line as her parents. They were at their wits' end."
"What happened?" I'd met her parents the other day and hadn't picked up any animosity toward Daisy, except where her dismissal of Kit was concerned.
"Daisy grew up to a certain extent and went to college. She took her business degree and job-hopped for years before opening Heavenly Hope. That's when she started mending her relationship with her parents. Soon after, she started working as a 'freelance therapist' out of the Heavenly Hope office."
"Ahh, the medicinal marijuana."
"Exactly."
"When did Kit meet her?"
"About five years ago." She laughed. "He was one of her clients."
My eyes widened.
"Not for the pot!" She laughed again. "Back then he was into holistic healing and alternative therapies. Or so he says. I think he'd met Daisy beforehand and tracked her down. She is—was—a beautiful girl. However, it didn't take long for him to see that Daisy had issues."
"But he stayed with her anyway? Was it a case of love is blind?"
She shook her head. "It had more to do with him wanting to save her."
"From?"
"Herself."
This explained a lot. Kit did have a tendency to play hero, to rescue damsels in distress. It was a large part of his appeal. The whole Beauty and the Beast syndrome.
The restroom door pushed inward, and an older woman gazed at us with owl-like eyes before rushing into a stall.
Before we were reported to the management for loitering, we left the restroom and headed back toward the crowd in the viewing room. Maddie was asking me about Perry when a bony hand reached out, clamped down on my arm, and wouldn't let go.
Twice. Twice I'd nearly been scared out of my panty hose in one day. That had to be a record.
Thankfully, this time the fear eased the moment I looked at the person who had hold of me. "Pippi!"
She was just the person I wanted to see.
My company, Taken by Surprise, Garden Designs, had done a mini-makeover on Lowther House, a très upscale retirement home, which was owned by Pippi Lowther, a dead ringer for Tweety Bird's cartoon owner.
"Nina, it's good to see you." Pippi's snow white bun wobbled as she kissed each of my cheeks. Several strands of her hair curled softly around her face, and as she turned to introduce herself to Maddie, I saw that the high-necked blouse she wore didn't quite cover the tattoo at the base of her neck.
"Lowther House," I explained to Maddie, "was one of the places Daisy worked as a therapist."
Maddie's eyes widened knowingly.
What she didn't know is that Pippi had taken Daisy's form of therapy to heart and started growing marijuana in a greenhouse in Lowther House's courtyard. That was a secret I'd promised Pippi I'd keep, much to her gratitude.
Just call me Nina Colette Ceceri to Each Her Own Quinn.
"Kit is your son, you say?" Pippi asked.
"He is."
"Lovely boy. Such muscles."
Seemed to me Pippi needed a date.
Maddie smiled but said nothing.
Pippi went on. "Daisy adored him. Spoke well of him always."
We stood to the side of the viewing room door, and people streamed in and out around us. "Yet she broke up with him," I felt the need to mention.
The deep lines around Pippi's eyes crinkled as she frowned. "She said she had her reasons. I didn't know what they were."
"Did she ever speak of Kent Ingless?"
"Who?"
That answered that.
"No one you want to know," I said.
The overhead spotlights picked up the flecks of gold thread running through Maddie's caftan as she waved to someone inside the room. "I'm being summoned. I'll talk to you later, Nina?"
"I'll call if I hear anything," I said.
"Ditto," she called out over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd.
Pippi clamped down on my arm again. "She doesn't know about the greenhouse, does she?"
"Not a thing. No one does, as far as I know."
"I can't tell you how grateful I am, how grateful the resi
dents of Lowther House are. Until the government comes to their senses, I'm afraid we're going to have to keep our little secret. Though I must tell you, Nina, dear, I nearly had a heart attack when the police showed up at my door the other day."
"The police?"
"Oh, yes. They wanted to speak to everyone who had anything to do with Daisy. Apparently they had learned of her," she dropped her voice, "alternate therapy."
Amazed tha
t the police had actually been investigating, I leaned against the wall, nearly knocking a framed Thomas Kinkade print clear off.