Chapter Forty
The Holbrook house was eerily quiet when Audrey descended the stairs early the next morning. The scent of brewed coffee and toasted bread that usually signaled her grandmother’s presence in the kitchen was conspicuously absent.
That was odd.
Maggie was an early riser, always the first to claim the newspaper, usually with a knowing smirk as if she’d gotten to the day’s gossip before anyone else.
Audrey poked her head into the kitchen. The coffeepot sat untouched, the chairs still neatly pushed in, and the morning paper was still folded on the counter.
Frowning, Audrey moved to the stove, cracking eggs into a pan, flipping toast onto plates. Maggie loved a proper breakfast, and maybe the smell would lure her down. But when the food was plated and growing cold, Audrey finally decided to go upstairs and check on her.
She knocked softly.
No answer.
“Nana?” she called, pushing the door open.
The sight that met her made her stomach drop.
Maggie lay sprawled across her bed, barely conscious, her face damp with sweat, her breathing labored. She moaned softly, turning her head but not really looking at Audrey.
Panic gripped Audrey’s chest. “Nana!” She rushed to the bedside, grabbing her grandmother’s clammy hand. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? I’m calling an ambulance—”
Maggie weakly batted her hand away. “No. Don’t be ridiculous.” Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “It’s just the flu. Or something. Probably a twenty-four-hour thing.”
Audrey’s heart pounded. Maggie looked awful—her skin was pale, her pulse faint, her usually bright eyes dull and unfocused.
“This isn’t the flu,” Audrey said firmly. “I’m calling 911.”
Maggie tried to sit up but immediately swayed, her body trembling with the effort. “Don’t fuss, dear. Just get me some coffee. That’ll fix me right up.”
Audrey hesitated, torn between arguing and racing for the phone. But Maggie, stubborn as ever, fixed her with a look that told her this battle wouldn’t be won easily.
Audrey gritted her teeth. “Fine. Stay put. I’ll get you coffee.”
She hurried down the stairs, shakily pouring a cup, adding a splash of cream, and rushing back up, determined to force Maggie into reason.
But the moment she pushed the door open, her world tilted.
Maggie was no longer in bed.
She had collapsed on the floor, convulsing.
Audrey’s scream pierced the silence.
She dropped the coffee, ceramic shattering on the hardwood as she lunged toward her grandmother, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her.
“Nana! Hold on!”
Fumbling, hands trembling, Audrey snatched her phone from her pocket, dialing 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance—now! My grandmother—she’s having a seizure!”
The operator’s voice was calm, giving her instructions, but Audrey barely processed them. She was too busy holding Maggie, whispering, “It’s going to be okay, Nana, everything’s going to be okay.”
Audrey’s heart pounded in her ears as she crouched beside her grandmother’s trembling body. Maggie—her stubborn, tough-as-nails Nana—was sprawled on the floor, her lips chalky, her breathing shallow and erratic.
Audrey had never seen her like this.
“Hang on, Nana,” Audrey whispered, clutching her hand, which was clammy and weak.
The sound of wailing sirens filled the air as the paramedics burst through the door, their presence both a relief and a gut-wrenching confirmation that this was serious.
“What do we got?” one of them asked, kneeling beside Maggie and checking her pulse.
“She—she was fine last night,” Audrey stammered. “This morning, she wouldn’t wake up, she was sweating, then—then she just collapsed.”
A second paramedic pulled out a blood pressure cuff, wrapping it around Maggie’s arm. “Does she have any pre-existing conditions? Medications?”
“She takes blood pressure medicine, but she’s otherwise healthy. Really healthy.” Audrey’s voice cracked, desperation clawing at her throat. “I can’t understand what’s going on. I mean, it happened so suddenly. No warning whatsoever.”
The paramedic frowned as he checked Maggie’s pulse again. “Her pressure’s dangerously low.”
They lifted Maggie onto the gurney, securing straps around her frail frame. Her head lolled slightly, and a fresh wave of panic crashed over Audrey.
“Nana?” she whispered, gripping her grandmother’s hand. It was cold, still very clammy, slipping away from her grasp. “Please, please stay with me.”
Maggie’s eyelids fluttered, then stilled.
Audrey felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.
“Let’s go!” the lead paramedic barked, wheeling Maggie out the door.
Audrey ran alongside the gurney, her mind screaming the same words on repeat.
Don’t let this be the last time I see her awake.
The Holbrooks gathered in the sterile hospital waiting room, tense and silent, the air thick with worry.
Jill stood rigid, arms crossed, her cop’s mask firmly in place, but Audrey knew her mother well enough to see the cracks underneath.
Cord paced like a caged animal, jaw clenched, fists tight. “What the hell is taking so long?”
Sandy sat slumped forward, elbows on his knees, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. I stopped by the house last night, and she was having a glass of wine by the fire, regaling me with how many steps she got in yesterday.”
Oliver arrived last, his face pinched with concern. “Sorry I’m late. I was in the middle of my closing argument and suddenly had to request a recess in Clyde Peterson’s trial,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Before anyone could answer, Katie, in her nurse’s uniform, stepped into the room.
Audrey knew instantly—before Katie even said a word—that something was seriously wrong.
Katie wasn’t sugarcoating anything.
“This is bad,” she said, keeping her voice low but firm.
The room stilled.
Audrey’s chest tightened.
“What does that mean?” Cord demanded. “What’s wrong with her?”
Katie glanced at the floor almost as if she was trying to hide her worry. “We don’t know yet. Her blood pressure is frighteningly low, and she’s barely responsive.”
“Food poisoning?” Sandy suggested, looking desperate for an easy answer.
Katie shook her head. “No. The symptoms don’t fit.”
“Then what?” Oliver asked.
Katie shrugged. “They really don’t know yet.”
Cord, already a bull in a china shop, slammed his fist against the counter. “Well, why can’t these damn doctors figure it out?”
Oliver shot him a sharp look. “Cord. Losing your temper isn’t going to help.”
Cord exhaled hard, pacing. “She was fine yesterday.”
Katie touched Cord’s arm. “They’re working as fast as they can, but—” Katie stopped herself, not sure if she should divulge what she was about to say.
Sandy stepped forward, curious. “But what, Katie?”
Audrey felt the words before Katie spoke them. Felt the realization crash into her like an icy wave.
Katie hesitated. Then, lowering her voice, she said, “One of the doctors thinks she might have been poisoned.”
The words landed like a bomb.
Cord’s head snapped up. “Poisoned?” he bellowed.
Oliver grabbed his arm. “Shut up!” he hissed. “Do you want to get Katie in trouble?”
Cord swore under his breath, pacing faster, hands on his hips.
Oliver exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.
Audrey felt like she’d been punched again.
Jill turned to her, eyes narrowing. “Audrey—”
“He poisoned Chips Hogan, Mom.” Audrey’s voice was stronger now, more certain. “He drugged Griffin Mead, setting him up for drowning.” She looked her mother straight in the eyes. “And now that Grandpa Wes is gone, he’s coming for Nana instead.”
Katie glanced toward the hallway, lowering her voice even more. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We don’t have proof yet. We’ve sent her blood for testing.”
“Who the hell would do this?” Cord seethed.
Audrey met Jill’s gaze. “Bradley Comstock. We both know it.”
Cord cocked an eyebrow. “The new dentist? Why would he—?”
Jill clenched her jaw. “We have no evidence.”
Audrey didn’t blink. “Then I’ll get some.”
The Holbrook house felt wrong when Audrey stepped inside.
Her grandmother should be here. Instead, she was fighting for her life in a hospital bed.
Audrey swallowed down the fear and moved quickly.
She stormed upstairs, heading straight for Maggie’s room. If her grandmother had been poisoned, then there had to be something here—some clue.
She tore through the nightstand drawers, flipped through papers, and checked the closet. Nothing.
Then she stepped into the bathroom.
The gift bag from Dr. Comstock’s office sat on the sink counter.
Audrey’s pulse pounded.
She grabbed it, heart racing, and pulled out the travel-sized toothpaste.
The seal was broken.
Her stomach dropped.
Oh my God.
This was how he did it.
Audrey’s hands shook as she stuffed the toothpaste into a plastic bag.
She had the proof she needed to prove Bradley had poisoned her grandmother.
Audrey returned to the hospital, her heart in her throat.
She found Jill standing near the nurses’ station, talking in hushed tones with Oliver.
Audrey didn’t hesitate.
She shoved the plastic bag into her mother’s hand.
Jill frowned. “What is this?”
Audrey lowered her voice. “You need to get this tested.”
Jill looked down at the bag, then back at Audrey.
For the first time that day, Jill’s face went pale.
Audrey turned on her heel and walked away.
She’d done what she could.
Now it was up to Jill to prove it.
And arrest Comstock for two murders and one attempted murder.
At least that’s what she prayed would be the outcome.
It was still a question mark whether Maggie was going to even make it.