Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Dorothy had barely made it out the door when my phone rang. It was Mildred.
“I talked to Carter,” Mildred said.
I could hear the excitement laced with confusion in her voice, so I assumed he’d given her some information.
“Did you ask about the drugs?”
“He said it was phenobarbital. Then he asked if our mother had been prescribed that. I said I didn’t think so and pulled her medical files from Eleanor’s office. She was prescribed opioids for the pain but no barbiturates at all.”
“You’re sure the list is complete?”
“Positive. It came from her doctor. Carter said he’d verify but I don’t think he’s going to find anything different.”
“Probably not.”
“That nasty man had to have given it to her. But I swear, I know Eleanor and she wouldn’t have taken anything like that.”
“Even if the thing she cared about most was potentially slipping away? And she realized it had all been a lie?”
She was silent for several seconds. “I don’t know. Eleanor was always strong at best. Defiant at worst. I just can’t wrap my head around…” She sighed. “I’ve been gone a long time. Maybe I just didn’t know my sister like I thought I did.”
“Don’t put the weight of this on your shoulders. It’s more likely someone dosed her drink with it than she took it voluntarily. But what they hoped to accomplish, I’m not sure.”
“None of this makes sense, Fortune.”
“I know. But I’ll figure it out. I promise you.”
Carter walked in about an hour after Dorothy had slunk out the back door. He looked ready to spit nails. Since I knew he would never waste that much energy being angry at me for doing things he knew I would do, I assumed it was the Calahan Effect.
“Rough day?”
He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. “You have no idea. Since you’re back, I guess you got off the cross?”
“It was more of a consulting gig, but I have problems with the uniform.”
“Especially when running through the woods.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh. Even considering the wardrobe, I’ll bet you had a better time than me the past thirty-six hours.”
“Hmmm. Well, let’s see. Gertie deliberately took the bad cop role before Ida Belle could open her mouth. She was feisty, disgruntled, and generally insulting over most everything.”
“Leaving Ida Belle to play the peacemaker role. I bet that stung.”
“I had to play an innocent, naive girl ripe for the taking by a smarmy con man. That was much harder.”
His lips quivered and the smile finally broke through. “You also had to pretend that your primary method of helping people was praying. I’m surprise you didn’t fire off an entire magazine in the bayou as soon as you got home.”
“Oh, I did. Shot two speckled trout. I’m not even sure how that happens, but I sent Tiny out to fetch them. We’re having grilled fish for dinner.”
“The only bright spot in my day. Probably going to be the only bright spot in yours when I say what I have to say next.”
“Calahan?”
He nodded. “The ME signed off on the suicide. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t see how it could be anything else, but I wanted to check the extenuating circumstances.”
“Of course. But I’m guessing Calahan has other ideas.”
“He’s been harping for two days now about the waste of resources. That I need to close this file and move on to the next case. That I’m costing taxpayers money for no reason.”
“Zion being a scammer is no reason?”
“When the person he potentially scammed is dead by their own hand, that’s how Calahan sees it.”
“But Mildred is bound by that same crappy contract if we can’t figure out a way to get her rid of that leech.”
“I know and I seriously doubt this is Zion’s first time skirting ethics or the law, but Calahan said if I don’t finish up the loose ends tomorrow and close the file, he’s going to report me.”
“My offer to shoot him is still on the table.”
“Tempting, but I’m pretty sure they’d know where to look.”
“I don’t know. My guess is anyone who’s ever met the man has felt the same way, so the pool of suspects is probably huge.”
“True, but I still can’t afford the additional scrutiny.”
“Did you run Zion?”
“Yes. And came up empty. I mean really empty. There’s no trace of a Zion Gates before he appeared in New Orleans two years ago.”
“Which in itself is sketchy but not remotely surprising. Did you run his prints?”
“Yep. Nothing.”
“I refuse to believe that he’s not guilty of something illegal somewhere. Otherwise, why change your name? And he’s not from here. His accent says Midwest to me, not Southern. He’s done a good job of adapting it to the region, but I can still tell this isn’t his home turf.”
Carter nodded. “I want to do a deeper dive, but the only way is to put out his photo on the wire and start working his identity backward. If I question him, he’ll just relocate again.”
“But that takes time, and working the phone talking to other law enforcement branches means you give Calahan ammunition. You know you can’t afford to run the risk.”
“I know.” He cursed and slammed one hand on the table. “Zion is going to get away with something—I’m certain of it.”
“Were the drugs you found in his cabin a match for what was in Eleanor’s bloodstream?”
He stared. “How do you know I found anything?”
“I overheard Zion and Sapphire arguing about it. Both are denying ownership, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know. There was no label, neither has a prescription on file for the med, and the prints on the bottle don’t belong to either of them.”
“Interesting. So someone goes to the trouble of handling the bottle with gloves but just leaves it in a nightstand instead of tossing it. You never answered my question, by the way.”
I didn’t really expect an answer, but Carter’s frustration must have outweighed his rigid principles.
“It was a match. Extremely strong painkiller. Think palliative care.”
“Phenobarbital. Mildred told me. I figured they belonged to Dora given how sick she was, but Mildred said she couldn’t find anything in her mother’s records.”
He nodded. “I double-checked and she was never prescribed this particular drug.”
“So someone provided Eleanor with the drugs, at minimum. On the more serious side of possibilities, they spiked something she drank and maybe fed her the idea of suicide.”
“It’s possible it went down that way, but I can’t prove anything.”
“What about the gun?” I asked, figuring I’d press my luck since he was being so forthcoming.
“Unregistered, serial number filed off. I can’t prove it didn’t belong to Eleanor but everything I found in her house was registered to either her, her father, or Jasper, and all numbers were intact.”
I shook my head. “All of this is so wrong.”
“I know. But what can I do about it? And when it comes down to it, the woman killed herself. There’s no way around that.
I’d love to figure out who Zion is and what he’s been up to before coming here because I’d bet my career that law enforcement somewhere is looking for him to answer questions at a minimum. But my hands are tied.”
“Mine aren’t,” I said, then sighed. “But if I find stuff that you didn’t then it makes you look bad. And if I pass you the information and you claim it, then you were going against protocol and Calahan reports you. Crap.”
“Yep. I’ve already gone rounds in my mind over all of it, and there’s no way I can get Zion and come out a winner.”
“Calahan won’t be here forever.”
“No, but I bet he outlasts Zion. And once he slips out of sight, he’ll pop up somewhere else as a completely different person.”
“So what are you going to do?”
He sighed. “Nothing else I can do. Calahan has left me no other option but to close the investigation tomorrow.”
I frowned and stared out the window. Calahan was ruining everything.
I was as certain as Carter—probably more so—that Zion was shady.
But I also knew he was right. With Sapphire giving him the boot and Carter sniffing around over Eleanor’s death, Zion was probably already planning his exit strategy.
Maybe even to Florida, if he could convince Sister Britney to make a deal.
Something had to be done to stop him from preying on more women, but Carter’s hands were tied.
Which left me, but I lacked access to police databases and had no connections to other law enforcement branches, except Casey.
And I couldn’t ask a decorated homicide detective to put her own career on the line over a con man.
Tracking down Zion’s past was a job best suited for Carter, but with Calahan lurking behind every corner, Carter couldn’t do his job.
I needed a plan.
And then one hit me.
“I suppose that idiot Calahan is taking up space at the café again this evening?” I asked.
“He was headed that way when we left the sheriff’s department. He sits there for hours every night, blowholing to all the residents. Francine has already asked me if she can get a restraining order against him. I wish she could.”
“She could just refuse service. That’s her right.”
“And give Calahan a reason to make her life miserable? You know he’d be petty enough to send every inspection agency to the café every day for a year.”
I sighed, certain he was right. But there had to be some way around Calahan so that Zion didn’t get away. Then it hit me.
I jumped up from my chair so quickly it startled Carter.
“I’ve got to go do something. Fish are marinating in the fridge and ready to toss on the grill. Asparagus is already wrapped with bacon. Don’t wait on me.”
He didn’t utter a single word or even lift an eyebrow when I grabbed my keys and ran out of the house. Smart. Because the coup I was planning was something he didn’t need to know anything about. Ever.
I had already dialed Harrison before I backed out of the driveway.
“I need help on a case,” I said when he answered.
“Oh no. Carter already told me what you’re working on and has threatened me with unemployment and no invitation to deer hunt this year if I so much as stick one nostril hair in the mix.”