“It was a terrible way to go,” Rand replied.
Celia looked at the speaker. “How so?”
“Selenium poisoning doesn’t just suddenly take you down,” Rand explained. “It’s more of a slow build. Sometimes up to two weeks.”
“What are the symptoms?” I quizzed.
“Nail discoloration and brittleness, joint pains, headaches, irritability, hair loss, and here’s the weird one - garlic breath.”
Celia sucked in a breath. “Garlic breath and hair loss?”
“Affirmative,” Rand answered.
Celia turned toward me. “Octavio’s hair was thinner the last time I saw him. And his breath was fouler than usual - like he’d been eating rancid garlic.”
I nodded. “Rand, get those results over to Dr. Jackson in the Medical Examiner’s office. They still have Octavio’s body. See if they can test for selenium toxicity and get back to me.”
“Roger Dodger,” Rand hung up.
“Two weeks,” Celia repeated. “His symptoms must have started long before I saw him last. Echo did mention he’d been acting a little crazy before their date night.”
“Which puts the initial dose around, what, Thanksgiving?” I glanced at her.
Celia looked at her phone calendar and nodded. Then, she turned in her seat to face me. “So, why stab him?”
“What?”
“If Echo were poisoning him, why stab him with scissors? You told me her first husband died of selenium poisoning, right? If Echo was doing that to Octavio, she would have to know how long it took. The long game,” Celia’s eyebrows furrowed, and she turned forward in her seat. “It doesn’t make any sense if he was going to die anyway.”
That was a great point.
“And, why kill him in the first place?” Celia asked.
“Life insurance?”
She shook her head. “Maybe. She did seem surprised when she found out she got nothing.”
“Maybe he told her he wanted a divorce?”
“Then, why plan a date night where he gave the staff off and sent her to the spa?”
An uneasy silence settled over the car.
“I’ve known Octavio for a long time,” Celia looked out the window. “When he decides to trade you in for a younger model, there’s no talking about it. There’s no maybe. It’s absolute. Your bags are packed, and you’re out immediately. You’re out on the street, like worthless garbage.”
My blood boiled at the thought of that fucker treating Celia and even her demon spawn like that. If Octavio weren't dead already, I would have killed him. I glanced over at her face but could only see the part of it as she stared out the side window.
I didn’t need to see her whole face to recognize the hurt look. It didn’t matter if it was yesterday or 30 years ago. When someone tosses you aside, like you mean nothing, that shit stays with you. And it means you’re no good to anyone else.
Reason number 37 why I needed to stay far away from Celia.
