Chapter 10
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Only after Doreen finally finished her inspection of the master bedroom, and Scott had gone to a nearby hotel for the night, did she really start to fade. She should have gotten the hint when Mack and Nick had taken turns coming in to see if she was ready to call it a day.
Mack shook his head. “I know we need to move on this, but I can’t have you wearing yourself out.”
“Too late,” she muttered, as she sagged against him.
When Mugs started barking, she lifted one eyelid at him. He was at the window, and he was not a happy camper. Thaddeus squawked and flew over to look out the window with him. Mack was frowning now, as he looked outside. He turned to head to the front door. He called out for Nick to come with him.
She groaned, figuring that she needed to go with them, yet wanted nothing to do with whatever it was. Still, she decided to meet them halfway—or at least in the kitchen. When they made their way back to her again, she asked, “What’s the problem?”
Mack lifted a note, showing it to her, while explaining how he found it taped to the front door. Nick nodded.
“Give it to me? But that could be about anything,” she muttered. “I mean, look at this house. It’s full of stuff. And you also don’t know—”
Mack pointed at the note. “Turn it over. There’s more.”
Flipping over the note, she silently read the rest of the message.
I warned you. And you paid the price. “Okay, but this …” She frowned.
“This doesn’t make any sense. I warned you, and you paid the price?
Is our note writer speaking to our dead guy, Pete Singer?
What good does that do, telling us this? What is happening here?”
Mack agreed. “We know when and where Mathew died, and we also know who killed him. But we don’t know much about Pete Singer, the dead man in the greenhouse, despite my calls to Daniel’s captain.
While I don’t expect an immediate return phone call, I do expect to hear from him within forty-eight hours, which is coming up soon.
Plus, we have to consider that somebody potentially thought Pete Singer was Mathew. ”
Doreen shook her head, clearly confused.
“So, what’s the point of these threats to Mathew then?
I mean, does somebody here not know that Mathew is dead already, since he was killed in Kelowna?
Or, does somebody really think Pete Singer was Mathew?
How could you be so mad at somebody, enough to kill them, and not know what they look like? ”
Mack shrugged. “We could have somebody who’s not quite all there.”
She stared at him. “But you can’t reason with someone like that,” she muttered. Just then her phone rang, and it was Nan. “Hey, Nan.”
Her grandmother asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Sorry. I’m just exhausted. Don’t worry about me.”
“Oh, wow,” she murmured. “Is that a good exhausted or bad?”
“It was good until we got a warning note taped to the front door.”
Nan cried out, “Let me talk to Mack.”
Doreen handed over her phone, almost too tired to care. Yet she could assume an onslaught from Nan followed.
Mack listened for a long while, then replied, “I promise. I’m looking after her. … Yes, I know. … I am very aware that you don’t want anything to happen to her down here and that you are stuck in Kelowna. … I know. … I know. … Yes. … Yes. … No, you don’t need to come down here.”
Doreen rolled her eyes, listening in on the one-sided conversation. Nan was freaking out, and Doreen knew it.
By the time Mack was done with the call, he groaned, collapsed on the kitchen chair beside her, and said, “That was dirty pool.” He and Nick shared a knowing glance.
She snickered. “Hey, she wanted to talk to you. I apparently didn’t have the mental acuity to think about what she would do.”
“Aha,” he declared. “Seems you set me up.”
She smiled. “You’re so good at handling her.”
“No, I’m really not,” he muttered. He turned to her. “I need food, and I need it in a big way.”
“Steakhouse?” she suggested.
Nick looked over at her. “Do you know a good one?”
“I don’t really care which one—or even that it’s steak,” she said. “You guys can go. Just bring me back a to-go bag. I’ll stay here with the animals.”
Mack shook his head. “In that case, we’ll just order in.”
“Ordering in is plenty good enough for me,” she muttered. “As long as I don’t have to do anything more complicated than standing up.”
“And that probably includes walking to the formal dining room to eat. Don’t worry. We’ll eat in the kitchen, so just sit tight right where you are,” Mack added, giving her a smile.
He knew her so well.