Chapter Twenty-Five. The Body with The Toxicology Report
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE BODY WITH THE TOXICOLOGY REPORT
“Sorry I’m late,” Sofia says as we climb into the back seat after an excruciating wait. “Had to pick up a hair appointment that ran long.”
Such are the indignities of being an investigative duo without your own wheels.
“Where to next, Nancy Drew?” she asks, already reversing the van.
“Home,” Felix says.
“As quick as you can,” I add.
Sofia revs the engine before peeling out of the parking lot. I’m pretty sure she’s humoring us, and we only make it half a block before hitting the first red light, but it feels good to be moving.
When we finally reach the building, it’s pandemonium. A frantic Mervyn stands at the front of the dining room while the residents lob questions at him.
“Did they say what kind?” Mrs. A wants to know.
“Or how it was administered,” Mr. Namura adds.
“Was it fast-acting?” Grandma Lainey demands.
Mrs. A nods at this. “Exactly. Have they established a timeline?”
Mervyn raises both hands. His bow tie is askew. “Please. I’ve told you what I know.”
“Which is what?” Felix whispers to his grandfather, who is sitting closest to the entrance.
“Poison,” Mr. Gutierrez replies.
I sit down heavily. The other residents have noticed our presence and are turning to face us.
“You mean it wasn’t an allergy?” Felix asks, like he’s sure he heard wrong.
“This was no accident,” Malia confirms, standing and raising an arm. “It was murder!”
Mervyn covers his face with both hands.
Grandma Lainey twists an invisible dial. “Let’s take it down a notch, shall we?”
“Less excitement would be good,” Mervyn agrees. “I need you all to stop acting like spectators and start thinking like”—he swallows before continuing—“suspects.”
The echoes of the s-word are still reverberating when Sofia walks in, holding a phone in a familiar case.
“You left this in the back seat.” She passes it to me before noticing the atmosphere in the room. “What’s going on?”
“Plot twist,” Mr. Namura says, ducking his head in apology when Mrs. A clears her throat.
“Last week’s accidental death may not have been an accident,” Grandma Lainey explains.
Sofia looks stricken. “That Bradley guy?”
“Bumped off,” Malia says from behind her hand, like that makes it discreet.
“Oh shit.” Sofia clutches the back of a chair for support, her knuckles going white.
My sentiments exactly.
This changes everything.
An accidental death with a few suspicious details felt like a mystery we could solve.
Homicide is on another level.
I have no idea how to approach Mervyn about what we learned from Bradley’s dad.
For one thing, he looks utterly crushed, and I’m afraid one more piece of bad news would send him under.
For another, I’m not sure what murder means for Castle Claude.
It certainly doesn’t say “Here is a safe, well-maintained place where nothing dangerous happens!” If Bernie and Mr. Odell were scheming about lawsuits and contesting Claude’s will before, this gives them an opening the size of a barn.
She’s going to gloat so hard. This is everything she wanted people to believe about Castle Claude. It’s surprising she’s not here now, delivering her I told you so speech. I’m not the only one to register her absence.
“Where is Bernie?” Mr. Gutierrez asks.
Mr. Namura turns to look at him. “Do you think someone got to her too?”
“Not now.” My grandmother’s voice is sharp. I’m not the only one taken aback. Mrs. A frowns at her but refrains from commenting.
Maybe Grandma Lainey is thinking what I’m thinking, namely that Bernie is already working on how to use this to her advantage. She could be heading to meet with Bradley’s dad to talk strategy.
Or grieve, I remind myself. Not that Bradley is any more dead than he was before, but this has to be another shock for his family. Probably I should have thought of that sooner, but my head is in a different place.
A murder happened in this building. That’s upsetting enough, but there’s something worse beyond it—a logical conclusion I’m trying my hardest not to reach.
Someone here is a murderer.
I don’t realize I’m waiting for something until my grandmother puts a hand to her temple and I notice the tremor in her fingers.
This is the moment Grandma Lainey is supposed to rally everyone with a motivational speech.
Courage, friends! We’ll get through this together because we’re a family, and family sticks together!
Except more eloquent.
When I glance around the room at the familiar faces of the Castle Claude crew, I can tell I’m not the only one who needs reassurance.
They look not defeated exactly, but somehow …
diminished? It’s one of those moments when I’m suddenly reminded that my grandmother and her friends are older, and not just by a few years.
There are things I can do that they can’t, like run up and down the stairs or read ingredient labels at the grocery store.
“Migraine?” Mrs. A asks. My grandmother nods.
“I need to take a brief intermission. We’ll reconvene shortly.” Her lips are white, eyes narrowed as if the light hurts them.
Mervyn looks like he wants to rush to her aid, but his attention is needed elsewhere.
“I’ll take you upstairs,” I tell Grandma Lainey, before anyone else can volunteer. When I give her my arm, she leans on me so hard I can tell how much of an effort she’s making to hold it together in front of her friends.
“Do you need help?” Felix asks.
I shake my head. My grandmother wouldn’t want him to see her in a weak moment.
Besides, one of us needs to stay here, in case something else goes horribly wrong.