Read Polly Dent Loses Grip (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) Online
Authors: S. Dionne Moore
I pointed. “That library closes in two hours and you haven’t even slithered yourself into the place.”
He withdrew his hand from behind his back and dangled a key in front of me. “Got me something better than a pile of books to read.”
This man makes me crazy. “What you spoutin’ off about?”
His voice got real quiet as he lowered his hand. “Sue Mie stopped by right after you left. Gave me the key and I asked her about digoxin.” His eyes shimmered. “It stimulates the ticker of heart patients. Can be poisonous in high doses.”
“And you’re gonna be telling me what that key is for.”
His grin went huge. “A certain hallway she said you were interested in.”
My heart started to beating real hard. The key to the back hallway! I held out my hand.
Hardy shook his head and pushed the key into his front pants pocket. “I’m wanting to go with you. This could be dangerous.”
“You hand me that key or I’m gonna yank your drawers up so high you’ll be halfway to Heaven.”
He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Besides, I’m already half there when I’m with you.”
“None of that sweet talk.” I held out my hand. “You’d better cross my palm with that key.”
“Now’s that any way to talk to the man of your dreams?”
I tapped my index finger against my outstretched palm. “Take a deep breath. Smell those funeral flowers yet?”
Hardy’s expression was mulish. Then his eyes went real wide at something behind me.
“Mister and Missus Barnhart.”
I shot a look over my shoulder at the approaching Otis Payne. He stroked a hand over his head, doing a little scratch that released a few flakes, then stuck out his hand.
Huh-uh.
No way was I gonna shake after seeing what I just saw.
Hardy got real close to me. “We was thinking about taking ourselves on a little walk. Our walk last night did some real good.”
Otis Payne’s hand kind of faded down to his side, though something in those beady blue eyes seemed to go real cool, real fast. I’m guessing Chester had recognized Hardy’s voice from the night before and probably reported to Otis. But an innocent man shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right? Could be he was just miffed over us not shaking his head-scratching hand.
“Our grounds are quite lovely this time of year.”
Hardy’s head bobbed in agreement. “You got quite a nice little fence around your trash area.”
I was sending out more signal strength than a cell phone tower at that moment, trying to get my boy to shut his mouth.
“Heard Chester out there cussing a storm.”
Otis got real still. Not that he was jumping around before, but something changed in his expression, and it wasn’t making him any prettier.
I locked onto Hardy’s hand and squeezed hard. “We need to be on our way now. You have a good day, Mr. Payne.”
I headed Hardy around the corner of the library, past Otis’s offices and the gym, and pulled up tight at the service elevator. “What you doing spouting off about Chester? He was mad for sure.”
Hardy ran a finger in his ear. “Flush him out. Sometimes you hold on to things too much. Let him know you saw something and it’ll make him do something.”
“He was looking like he was going to skin us alive is what he looked like.”
“Why would he feel that way if he wasn’t worried?”
Hardy truly had a point, as much as it pained me to admit it. After Otis’s assurance that the police didn’t have any concerns regarding Polly’s “accident,” news that I was still poking around, still questioning things, might stir him up a bit.
Without another word, I stretched out my hand again. Hardy fished out the key and slapped it into my palm. “Knowing Otis is here, this might not be a wise thing to be doing right now.”
I sent him a searing look. “You just said it was time to stir things up.”
“It’s easy to say when I’m the one doing the stirring.”
The key slid into the lock with a bit of pressure, telling me it was a new key. Sue Mie must have made a copy. I tried the knob of the door and it twisted real easy, revealing a long hallway with a door at the end, one on the left, and one on the right, closer to where we stood. Quick mental aerobics let me know the door on the right had to lead to the gym area.
Hardy got to that door first, while I eased the one we’d just come through shut. No use having it slam and letting everyone know we’d arrived.
Hardy did a little jig in front of the closed door. “Here they are! Here they are!”
“Quiet down there. This hallway connects to Otis’s office and who knows what else. You want someone to catch you acting like a three-year-old?” But my maturity slipped hard too when I laid eyes on the papers tacked to the door. Maintenance records.
I flipped to page two. The treadmills were listed by number.
T61 had been crossed out completely.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I hugged Hardy good and tight. “This has got to mean something,” I whispered next to his ear. “Why else would they get rid of T61 right after Polly’s fall?”
Hardy didn’t say a word but turned and headed down the hallway to the next door. I wanted to know how this door led into the gym. I knew there wasn’t another door visible. That’s when those fingerprints on the glass mirrors popped a flash of light into my head. The door slid open easily and, sure enough, the other side was one of the mirrored glass panels, and exactly the one I saw with fingerprints all over it. So this door was used often. Obviously the maintenance guy knew of its existence.
Next thing I knew, Hardy was tapping me on the shoulder, eyes rolling around in his head like he’d done gone lunatic. “Someone’s in Otis’s office. They said your name.”
I quick-closed the mirrored door and hustled up the hallway. Hardy glued his ear to one spot low on the door, me to another spot higher up.
“. . .tell her what you saw. . .right. . .good
-
bye.”
Hardy frowned.
I straightened, disappointed I hadn’t heard more. I pantomimed to Hardy to keep listening while I checked out the only door left we hadn’t examined. He caught on the meaning of my motions and stuck his ear against
Otis’s office door again.
I got the other door open real easy and flicked on the light. A bathroom. It had to be the one Sue Mie had mentioned. It included a shower, toilet, seat in the salute position, obviously the work of a person of male
persuasion, and a small, square shower with a plain dark green curtain.
My first act of business was to right a wrong. I
seized
a fistful of toilet paper and used it to grab the toilet seat and lower it. You treat a woman like a queen, then prepare her throne, that’s my motto, and the reason I trained my boys to put it down when they finished. Not that they listened all the time. Several nights I had a chilling surprise, but they heard about it the next day and got latrine duty for a week.
I threw away my wad of paper instead of flushing it, not wanting to make any noise. I stuck my head into the shower and spied a bar of soap
,
a mirror
,
and razor. I was just closing the curtain when the door swung open behind me. I craned my neck that direction in time to see Hardy’s eyes about bugging out of his head. He spread his arms wide and came at me, catching me and sending us both into the shower, almost yanking the curtain from its hooks.
“What you doing?!”
He smashed his hand over my mouth. “Someone’s coming.”
He turned and stepped on my toe, then rammed his bony elbow into my stomach. By the time I got knocked in the jaw with his head and another stab in the stomach, I was ready to wash him down the drain. But Hardy’s goal had been to turn around and pull the shower curtain shut. He eased it across the opening real slow.
We waited. The handle to turn on the water sticking in my back, my dress twisted around, and our breathing steaming up the shower mirror.
The door to the bathroom opened. I sucked in a breath. If whoever it is was
intended
to use the toilet, my idea about the toilet seat might have been a real bad move. Too late now.
The seconds dragged. It ran through my mind that whoever it was better not be undressing to take a shower, because there was gonna be some serious company. Something creaked. Then I heard water in the sink. Something rattled. Another squeak. Shuffling. A dull thud.
I can tell you I wanted that door to open fast and this person to be making their exit before I exploded. The handle of the shower dug real hard in my back. I shifted. Bad idea. Water dribbled from the shower head, onto my scalp and down my neck. Cold water. I swallowed a gasp and tried to shift back to my original position to turn off the water. It still dripped.
At long last, the door opened, then closed.
Hardy and me stayed stock still for a full minute before he peaked around the curtain. “They’re gone.”
I pushed on him to hustle him out. As soon as I had extra elbow room, I twisted the lever to off and stepped out, glad for room and fresh air. Now to figure out what our visitor had been up to. The toilet seat remained down and we’d heard no flush. Over the sink, a medicine cabinet presented a possibility for creating a creaking noise. I opened it. It let out a nice low screech, the same as the one we’d heard. Inside were several bags of pills. Pink, blue, white. A container of empty capsules.
Hardy came up beside me and pointed to the trashcan where a prescription bottle and several capsules lay.
I motioned him to take the bag out of the trashcan. I’d gone and took the stuff from the cabinet, but was afraid it, as evidence, would mess up the Chain of Custody. That’d put a real hurting on the case. I’d take the trash and look at it real close for clues. Hardy tied a knot in the bag and held it out to me, Adam’s apple bobbing hard. I patted his head and jabbed a finger at the door. It was time to make our escape.
Before Hardy got the door opened for me, I stuffed
the stash
down the front of my dress, shaping it just so, to look like it was part of me. A cup size bigger, maybe, but part of me.
Hardy lost his scared stiff look, flashed his tooth at me, and swung the door wide.
Chapter Thirty-Four
We almost made it to the first floor elevators. Almost. Dr. Kwan came out of the cafeteria as Hardy and I were trucking along.
“Mrs. Barnhart. I’d like to talk to you a moment.”
Hardy slowed. I didn’t.
“If you please. There is something I have not told you that I’d like you to look into for me regarding Polly Dent.”
I stopped dead. He wanted to talk about Polly? Wanted me to look into something? Having heard too much negative about the man, I didn’t trust him, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. Real bad.
I turned, trying to casually cross my arms over my chest, but managed only to scoot the bag out of alignment. Dr. Kwan’s gaze never wavered from my face, as if he saw lopsided women all the time. Not that I expected him to ask about something so personal.
“I’d like to talk in private
.
”
H
e gestured across the hall like I didn’t have any idea where Otis Payne’s office was by now. “We can use Mr. Payne’s office, or his secretary’s if he is too busy working.”
“I didn’t think doctors worked on Saturday. Don’t they play golf or something?” This from Hardy.
“I was called in.”
Since Otis Payne’s secretary wasn’t in and her door was locked, Otis’s was open, something I hadn’t noticed earlier. Maybe I was getting crazy in the head. Otis wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Dr. Kwan chose not to sit behind Otis’s desk and instead chose an armchair. Hardy slouched on the sofa and I stood. If I sat, the bag might crinkle a sound. And the plastic was molded to me, making me sweat.
“Need to get myself upstairs real quick, got something cookin’.”
Hardy tilted his head. “No you don’t.”
“Yes. I. Do.” I emphasized so it’d get through Hardy’s thick head to keep his mouth shut. And something sure was cooking. Me. Getting upstairs and shucking this bag would make me real happy-like.
“I won’t take long, Mrs. Barnhart. Something has been troubling me about the day Polly died. I didn’t mention it to the police because, well, I couldn’t imagine Mr. Philcher doing anything untoward, but now. . .” He crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his knee. “You see, I saw Mr. Philcher go into the gym that day. Mrs. Dent had an appointment with me to be evaluated, though she was early. I heard her and Mr. Philcher fighting over something
—
”