IN HER STUDIO, Stefanie led the way in a Yin yoga class, which focused on stretching exercises, as part of the mind-body routines she offered. The attendees, including two men, seemed all in with her instructions and were following her lead nicely. Bella was there in her designer yoga wear, flashing a brilliant smile, and had no trouble keeping up.
Stefanie sucked in a measured breath. Frankly, she welcomed taking her attention away from the Braison Family and the mysterious deaths of their two followers. At the same time, she wanted Campbell to figure it all out and—if he could prove that Kenneth Braison or anyone else was at the center of the fatal poisonings—put the mystery to rest. And presumably prevent any other cult members from dying due to a drug overdose.
She returned her thoughts to the yoga class, feeling good about having brought her skills and knowledge on this and tai chi to Reston Hills. Maybe she could talk Campbell into attending one class or the other, even if he obviously needed no help whatsoever in the fitness department—in or out of bed. It would still give them another opportunity to bond in her world, as a measure of spending time together for whatever the future might bring. Beyond that, she imagined that he would even enjoy the classes, which were designed to be fun as much as healthy exercising. It was also something that would give Campbell a probably much-needed breather of his own from the tricky world of law enforcement and the challenges that undoubtedly came with the territory.
Chapter Fifteen
“I may have a lead on my cold case—or actually yours now…” Mason said over the phone.
Campbell, who was still at his desk, responded attentively, “Okay, what do you have?”
Without elaborating, his father said flatly, “Can you meet me at Sedwick’s Greenhouse and Nursery on Bledton Road in Wally Ridge?”
“Yeah, sure,” Campbell told him. “I can be there in about twenty minutes.”
“See you then.”
Campbell heard the phone disconnect. He finished up some paperwork and headed out of the building, stepping into the sunshine, while more than curious as to where this was headed. Not too surprisingly, his father had taken an active interest in the unofficial reopening of the Lynda Boxleitner homicide.
Had he made a breakthrough?
Campbell was just as keen to solve the decades-old murder. Especially if it was connected to the two current drug-related deaths he was investigating. After getting into his SUV, he sent Stefanie a quick text to say that he was thinking about her—and often. A return text came back from her, stating the same was true from her end.It brought a smile to his face as he realized how good it felt to have someone like her that enjoyed his company and wanted more of it.
He drove off to the rural town in Eckerslin County—about halfway between Reston Hills and Fallon’s Creek. Spotting his father’s Land Rover Range Rover in the parking lot of Sedwick’s Greenhouse and Nursery, Campbell parked alongside him.
After climbing into the passenger side of his father’s luxury SUV, he said, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Mason, wearing his cowboy hat, turned to face Campbell. “I’ve been going through my old files, hoping to find something…anything that might catch my eye…” He drew a breath. “Something did click. I came across info on one of the original suspects in Lynda’s murder… His name’s Sidney Sedwick—”
Campbell strained his mind to recall the name through his own perusal of the cold case files. He seemed to remember that Sedwick was barely mentioned, with the focus being almost entirely on Wendell Braison.
“I remember the name Sidney Sedwick,” Campbell said, leaving it at that for now.
“Sedwick was employed at the time as a gardener by Stuart Reston,” Mason pointed out, piquing Campbell’s interest with the mention of Bella Reston’s late father. “A witness reported seeing Lynda riding with Sedwick in his Ford F-150 pickup just days before her body was found in the park.”
“Hmm…” Campbell muttered thoughtfully. “Where was Sedwick—or where was he supposed to be—when she was killed?”
“According to witnesses, he spent the entire night beforeFounder’s Day into the early morning hours working on preparations for the event, apparently giving him no time to poison Lynda. Beyond that, Stuart came to Sedwick’s defense—insisting that he was a stand-up guy, incapable of doing anyone harm.”
Campbell eyed his father. “What made you think—or reconsider—otherwise?”
Mason ran a hand across his mouth. “Well, although Sedwick came back clean in a criminal background check, the fact that he was a gardener and may have been able to get his hands on the pesticide used to fatally poison Lynda just stuck out with me this time around.”
“What about his alibi?” Campbell asked as he weighed this.
“Yeah, there is that,” Mason admitted. “But from my own volunteering for past Founder’s Day planning, I know firsthand that it can be chaotic. People come and go without anyone truly being the wiser—but would swear that someone never left their sight.”
Campbell cocked a brow. “So, you think that Sedwick could have slipped away, poisoned Lynda, dumped her in Reston Hills Park and returned to the Founder’s Day preparations unnoticed?”
“Maybe.” Mason sighed. “Guess I’d like to hear what Sedwick has to say about it twenty years later—if he’ll talk to us… I did some digging, made some phone calls and learned that he now owns this greenhouse and nursery.”
Campbell nodded. “Well, let’s go see if we can find him.”
“Okay.”
They walked inside the greenhouse and, after asking tosee Sidney Sedwick, were directed toward the perennials department. A medium-sized man in his early sixties with a silver Viking haircut and a Balbo beard was getting his hands dirty on some shrubs when they approached him.
Flashing his badge, Campbell took the initial lead. “I’m Detective Sawyer, Reston Hills Police Department.”
