"That would actually make it more dangerous. Alcohol is a depressant, as pentobarbital is a barbiturate depressant, so they would potentiate each other. Thecombination would be deadly." Carl rubbed his temples. "Gordon asked me the same thing. If someone put pentobarbital in Raymond's flask with his bourbon, he probably wouldn't have tasted it. Especially if he was already drunk."
Nana June sat back, her fingers steepled under her chin. "So we're looking for someone who understands this medication, had access to your clinic during business hours, and had reason to want Raymond dead."
"That's a pretty specific combination," Ted said. “No one would know the syringe would be there at that time.”
Sara Lee thought of the staff Carl had, having seen them numerous times when taking Pippi or Mister Smee to the clinic. She liked his employees but couldn’t help wondering if one of them had seen an opportunity and snagged the drug.
"Carl, think carefully. In the past few weeks, has anyone asked unusual questions about your medications or procedures?"
Carl was quiet for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "There are always clients who ask questions. People want to know what medications we're using on their pets and what the side effects are. That's normal."
"Anyone who came in around the time the medication went missing?" Sara Lee asked. "Maybe someone new?"
"Nothing comes to mind..." Carl closed his eyes. "Last week was busy. We had a lot of regular clients and a few new ones."
They sat in heavy silence for a moment. Pippi, who'd been sleeping in the corner, whined softly and padded over to Sara Lee, pressing her head against Sara Lee's knee. The dog always seemed to sense when Sara Lee was upset.
Ted checked his watch and stood. "Carl and I should get back to the clinic. I want to review those security feeds myself before Gordon comes back with more questions."
Carl nodded, but he looked reluctant to leave. He moved toward the door slowly, then turned back to Sara Lee. "I'm sorry. I know this is... I know it's a lot. If you want to… if you need to distance yourself from this situation, I'd understand."
Sara Lee stood and crossed to him, her decision made. She wrapped her arms around him, and they stood there for a moment, his chin resting on top of her head, his arms tight around her shoulders. He smelled of antiseptic, dog shampoo, and something uniquely him. Sara Lee felt her resolve strengthen. She wasn't going anywhere.
"We'll figure this out," she murmured against his chest. "I promise."
When she finally let him go and stepped back, his eyes were suspiciously bright. "Thank you," he said roughly. "For believing me."
She followed him and Ted out onto the porch, Nana June joining her. They watched the two men walk down to Carl's SUV, Ted's hand on his grandson's shoulder in silent support.
After they drove away, Sara Lee turned to her grandmother. "What can we do?"
"I think now is our time for a fresh pot of tea," June said, her expression determined. "I think we need to review and research."
"But what are we looking for specifically?" Sara Lee’s frustration spilled out.
June looked at her granddaughter, her gaze warm. She wrapped her arm around Sara Lee’s shoulders as they moved to the door. “I have no idea, sweetheart. But at some point, all our findings will surely start coming together.” She sighed and added, “But, right now, I have no idea.”
They went back inside, where Mister Smee still sat on the back of the sofa, his enormous eyes watching them with that inscrutable feline wisdom. The cat blinked slowly, then stood and stretched before jumping down and padding down the hall.
"Come on," June said, following the cat. "Let's go see what we might need to look at."
Sara Lee trailed behind, her mind racing. Carl was a suspect. Someone had stolen his medication and used it to murder Raymond. And she was fresh out of ideas, but followed her grandmother, feeling anchored when she was near.
18
JUNE
June settled into the study, the familiar room wrapping around her like a comfortable blanket worn soft from use. The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, casting long rectangles of golden light across the wooden desk.
As Sara Lee entered, June noticed the anxiety in her granddaughter’s frown. She thought for Sara Lee, the blanket analogy probably felt more like scratchy wool that you couldn’t wait to kick off.
June spread out her notebook with deliberate care, tapping her pen thoughtfully against the page. The rhythmic sound helped her organize the chaos of information swirling in her mind. "You know, sweetheart," she began. "We've spent so much time thinking about Raymond's early life in Meadowlark Creek, or when he visited as an adult and usually caused chaos. But we know nothing about his life in Richmond."
Sara Lee looked up from where she'd been arranging her laptop and phone on the table. Her eyes brightenedwith understanding. "You're right. Maybe he had an enemy from there who came to Meadowlark Creek and killed him."
June recognized Sara Lee’s desire for the murderer to be a stranger, not someone from the town. "Maybe. I just think we need to know more about him."
"Well, how do we try to find out who he worked for?"
