A chorus of fuck-yous erupted from around the table. Knox picked up a pen and threw it at Kevin, who dodged it easily. Kevin pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, swiping, scrolling, swiping and scrolling once more until he found what he was looking for. He squinted and held the screen at arm’s length. Jocelyn knew he had reading glasses. She also knew they were in his top, right desk drawer at Northwest Detectives. Men were so stubborn.
“Listeria,” he proclaimed. “Both your blood tests came up positive for Listeria. It is a foodborne bacteria that causes, among other things, nausea, vomiting, and abdominal cramps.”
“Food poisoning?” Knox said.
Kevin nodded. “Right. It’s found in water and soil, so you can get it from raw vegetables, meat, soft cheeses.”
“It’s not found in coffee,” Trent pointed out.
“True,” Kevin said. “But you can grow it in a lab.”
Jocelyn zeroed in on Trent. “You think we both just happened to get food poisoning—the same kind—at exactly the same time?”
Trent said, “How’d he do it? Where does he get it from? Where does he keep it? Does he have a bottle of listeria in his fridge? It sounds absurd.”
Jocelyn felt anger heat her stomach again. She stood and pointed an accusing finger at Trent. “You don’t think he did it.”
Anita cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “Before you two start brawling, you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”
Jocelyn resumed her seat. All eyes went to Anita. She pulled a baggie from her pocket and held it up. Jocelyn recognized the two pills she’d stolen from the Rigos’ medicine cabinet.
“These are the pills Rush got from the Rigos’ medicine cabinet. This one,” Anita said, pointing to the blue diamond-shaped pill, “is Viagra.”
Knox did a little half cough, half chuckle. “Son of a bitch.”
“And this,” Anita continued, pointing to the other pill, “Is Cytotec.”
They all stared at her blankly. “Cytotec is used to bring about miscarriages in women,” she explained.
One by one, their jaws lowered until they were all staring at her in open-mouthed shock. The silence in the room was so complete that the hiss of Knox’s oxygen tank was a roar.
Then Trent said, “That sick son of a bitch. He takes Viagra so he can have sex with his wife, and after he knocks her up, he poisons her so she has a miscarriage?”
“That bastard,” Jocelyn said. “Francine said she had had miscarriages before. I wonder if he’s been doing this their entire marriage.” She smacked her palm against her forehead and looked at Knox. “Do you think he poisoned himself the night of Sydney’s murder to give himself something of an alibi?”
Knox shifted in his seat. “Don’t know. Guess it’s possible. I memorized those ER records. They didn’t take blood. But if he did, then he’s a lot more calculating than I’ve been giving him credit for.”
It was sick and disturbing.
My husband has never hit me.
Jocelyn heard Francine’s words in her mind. She wondered if the woman suspected that Cash poisoned her. But how could she? How could she suspect her husband of such a thing and stay with him? Jocelyn sighed. She wasn’t that naïve. People did all kinds of abhorrent and unbelievable things to keep their families intact or in the name of what they thought was love. Just look at her own fucked up family.
“Rush?” Kevin said. He waved a hand in front of her face.
She blinked and gave her head a shake. “Sorry.”
“What’s your next move?” Kevin asked.
She looked at each of them. They watched her, looking to her to make a decision, to tell them what would come next. The words “I don’t know” were on the tip of her tongue when a loud ping sounded from outside the conference room.
“Someone’s here,” Anita said. She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Knox said, “Can we go to the DA with the poisonings?”
Trent shook his head. “I don’t see how we can even prove it. The guy’s a history teacher. Where’s he getting listeria from?”
“You can ask him when you get him to confess to Sydney Adams’ murder,” Jocelyn said.
Trent shot her a dirty look. “What the fuck do you think this is, Rush? Confessions ‘R’ Us? You have some kind of plan for getting a confession out of this fucker? Because so far, all I’ve got to show for my trouble is a goddamn night in the hospital. I have other cases, you know, cases with leads and shit.”
Jocelyn’s cheeks blazed. She pointed a finger at him. “Maybe if you stopped complaining for five seconds, you could develop some leads in this case. This asshole poisoned us, Trent, whether you fucking believe it or not. I don’t give a rat’s ass where he got the listeria from. I care about making him pay, and you should too. Stop being a fucking pussy.”
Eyes flashing, Trent stood up so fast, his chair flew out from under him and fell on its side. They stared hard at one another from across the table. Jocelyn genuinely liked Trent, but at that moment, she wanted more than anything to punch him right in his smug face.
“Raz,” Knox wheezed, putting a yellowed hand on Trent’s forearm.
Kevin waved both hands in the air. “All right, kids, settle down. We can—and should—take this to the DA, even if we don’t get very far. I didn’t say this earlier because I know Rush would blow a gasket, but listeria poisoning can be fatal.”
Both Jocelyn and Trent’s heads swiveled in Kevin’s direction. Immediately, Olivia’s smiling face flashed across the screen of Jocelyn’s mind. Fear joined the congealed rage inside her, heating it, renewing its urgency. She and Trent started speaking at the same time, but then Anita reappeared in the doorway. Her eyes were wide. Her fingers drummed against the edge of the doorframe. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said in a hushed tone. “Francine Rigo is here.”
Chapter 29
November 17, 2014
They were all completely silent until Anita said, “Did you guys hear me? Francine Rigo is here.”
Jocelyn stepped back from the table. She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. “Okay,” she said. “Bring her to my office.”
She waited until Anita had shown Francine into her office before she walked in. Francine sat in one of the guest chairs, her back straight, legs pressed together and crossed primly at the ankles. She’d set her black Coach purse beside her feet. Her hands rested on the arms of the chair. She had made an effort to look nice, wearing a gray Cashmere poncho sweater over a lacy camisole with black slacks. On her feet were a shiny pair of black flats. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She wore light makeup, but Jocelyn could still see the pallor beneath it. She still looked sick and exhausted.
Jocelyn perched on the edge of her desk and smiled. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Rigo?”
Francine gave a weak smile. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“Well, last week, when you came to the hospital—you were the only person who really asked me how I was. I just—I appreciated that.”
“I’m still concerned about you, Francine. You’ve been through a lot. How are you feeling?”
Francine shrugged. She looked at the floor. When she looked back up, her eyes were brimming with tears. She bit her lower lip. “Oh, you know, I’m fine.” She looked to the side, her next words slipping out quietly, on the edge of a sigh. “I’m always fine.”