Robin’s face relaxed, and I swear she looked ten years younger. “Would you do that? I hate bothering Candace all the time, and the rest of the police force is sick to death of me.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “Oh. Not sick to death. That’s a horrible thing to say right now.”
“Remember our Guilt-Lover’s Manual? Are you writing another chapter this minute?” I said.
She smiled again. “You’re right. Thank you, Jillian. Amazing you came by at the right time to reassure someone who needed reassurance.”
Not as amazing as you might think, I thought. “I noticed a little guy with sad eyes when I got here. Can I offer a suggestion?” Jack had reached out to me, and I wanted to help him.
“Certainly,” she said.
I saw a wariness in her eyes that almost made me rethink what I was about to say. And then I realized that this had been Tom’s intent with Kara-to help, not to overstep. And that insight made me understand that I had to speak up for Jack. “This is just my opinion, but a child might not feel comfortable coming to the door wearing a surgical mask unless you’ve had a tuberculosis outbreak in the house.”
“But the chemicals could-”
I held up my hand. “Maybe you could send him outside when you have to clean-and I understand you need to do that right now. I’ll bet Lucy would love it if Jack came out and petted her. And there’s ball and Frisbee and, oh, I don’t know, rock collecting. Anything, Robin.”
She didn’t speak for a few seconds, and I thought I’d really pissed her off, but then she let out a big sigh and said, “I know you’re right. I should do that. No, I have to do that. It makes me uncomfortable, but I know if I don’t, he’s going to end up hating me.”
I put my hand on her upper arm. “I don’t think anyone could ever hate you.” Thunder rumbled and I added, “Maybe now’s not a good time for him to play outside, but later. When there are puddles to splash in.”
“Puddles. Oh boy.” She wrinkled her nose, but she offered the third smile of the day. Might be a record for her.
I said, “And now I’m off to hunt down Candace and tell her about that phone call you received from the professor.”
I left, but after I dashed to my van to avoid as many raindrops as I could and was putting my key in the ignition, I saw the blinds part in the front window. Then Jack stuck his hand through the slats and gave me a thumbs-up.
Fourteen
Once I was on the road, I tried Candace’s cell phone, hoping we could meet at Belle’s Beans. I wanted to tell her about Robin’s contact with the professor, but my call went straight to voice mail. I checked my watch. Almost noon. She’d worked yesterday at the professor’s farm gathering evidence, so maybe she was at her apartment, sound asleep.
Home sleeping with what she considered a murder investigation in progress? Think again, Jillian, I thought. Candace believed Morris Ebeling didn’t value her input, and if I knew her, she’d be hard at work hoping to prove him wrong. “Bet I know where to find you, my friend,” I said as I made a U-turn. I’d just passed the turnoff to VanKleet’s place and decided I’d drive by the old farm. My hunch was that the evidence hunter might have gone back for yet another look around that property.
But what I saw far down the road made me clench the steering wheel. Even though it was pouring now, I saw flashing patrol car lights, a fire engine and, as I got closer, Candace, wearing a dark green hooded slicker. She was placing orange cones in the road so no cars could go any farther than right in front of the professor’s farm.
Had they finally listened to her and decided this was a murder scene after all? But that wouldn’t have caused the Mercy brigade to show up here again. No. Something else had happened. Not anything good, either.
Just then a van passed me at mach speed, spraying rain and mud in its wake. I recognized Lydia Monk’s county coroner vehicle.
Uh-oh. Coroners show up for only one thing.
My chest felt tight as I pulled over near the ditch right before the professor’s driveway. I caught a warning look from Candace as she took up a few cones so Lydia could pass. I stayed put until Lydia had driven on down the road to where the rest of the emergency vehicles were parked. Candace hurried toward me, but I grabbed an umbrella and was out of the minivan before she reached me.
“What’s going on?” My gaze was focused down the road.
“No doubt about this one. Definitely murder,” she said. “But you better get out of here before Lydia and Morris see you.”
“Okay, but tell me the quick version first. We can talk later,” I said.
“Finally got hold of an executive of the bank that holds the lien on that property next to the professor’s place. That’s where I think the cats were taken first and where that white van you saw came from. The house is in foreclosure, and the banker told me I didn’t need a warrant-a warrant that would have been hard to come by, though the banker didn’t know that. He said I could search the place all I wanted. But when I got here, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, there he was, dead as he could be.”
“Who?”
“You might not know him. His name is Rufus Bowen. He’s an-”
“Exterminator,” I finished. I suddenly felt light- headed and placed my free hand on the van.
A gust of wind nearly knocked me over, and my pathetic umbrella blew away down the road. But though rain began to soak me, I didn’t care.
Candace gripped my elbow for further support. “What’s wrong, Jillian?”
“W-was he poisoned, too?” My voice sounded so far away.
“Whacked on the head. But what do you know about Rufus that I don’t? ’Cause you sure as heck know something.”
“I’m so sorry for him.” I shook my head, barely noticing how soaked my hair was getting.
“Talk to me, Jillian.”
I swallowed hard. “Rufus Bowen came to my house yesterday.”
“Oh my gosh. You did say something about the bug man, didn’t you?”
I nodded, unable to speak around the lump in my throat.
“You poor thing,” Candace said. “Two men you’ve met this past week are dead. That would stagger anyone.” She reached around me and started to open my van door. “You’re gonna catch a chill. Climb back in your van, and-”
“No.” I pointed in the direction of the property where the crime had taken place. “I need to go down there. You’ll want to talk to me. Take a statement or something.”
She cocked her head, rain sliding down her fair cheeks. “Why?”
“Because I called Rufus Bowen to my house yesterday to talk about poison. Strychnine, to be exact.”
I’d never sat in a fire truck before, but that’s where I ended up. Since no cats needed rescuing, I was spared the distress of walking by a dead man for the second time in three days and seeing firsthand the damage one human can do to another. Candace had turned me over to Billy Cranor’s care while she went to inform whoever would listen that I might want to offer some insight into Rufus Bowen’s final days on earth.
Billy had produced a yellow raincoat and helped me into it. He even found a towel for my soaking-wet hair.
I dried off as best I could but felt chilled to the bone. Meanwhile, Billy climbed into the driver’s seat. He pulled off the hood of his slicker and said, “What in heck are you doing here, Ms. Hart?”
This was how the grapevine began its work. Billy knew I’d been here Friday night, and now I was back. Though I was certain his concern for me was sincere, I had no doubt he also wanted to be the first person aside from Candace to hear the answer to why I’d shown up.
But I was with-it enough to know that whatever my reply, it would be all over Mercy within the next few hours. So I said, “I was driving by-I’d stopped to visit with a friend, and-”
“What friend?” he asked.