Jeff Abbott: Distant Blood

“And your little tete-a-tetes with Wendy?”

Philip smiled. “I told Wendy I needed her to steal some money away from Mutt for me; or else I might have to rat on him.”

I blinked. “You're trying to blackmail him? You let him know that you know his scheme?” I didn't want to believe Philip-but as much as I hate to admit it, I was starting to accept his story.

Philip ruffled at the accusation. “Extorting from a criminal's not really a crime. It's a public service. Actually, I figured that he wouldn't give me enough credit to deduce his real plan. He'd believe I'd steal from him sooner or later, and he'd let it be sooner. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to leave me holding the bag on some of his debts. Be just like the ornery cuss.”

Philip saw the dismay in my face. “Listen, Jordan. He likes you, he ain't ever liked me much. I'm sure it's a disappointment to you that he's the way he is. But truth is, he's a selfish SOB and he's always been one.”

“That book. You took the book on digitalis poisoning. I saw you replace it.”

“Do you think you're the only one who might try to investigate a crime?” I saw intelligence in his face, a look I'd previously dismissed as arrogance. I was the faulty, arrogant one. “Lolly never mentioned any sort of heart condition. And she'd been aching for Mutt's money from time immemorial. His announcement that he was dying would upset her-she did love him, after all-but it wouldn't induce a heart attack. She'd have shown the proper sorrow and probably bought a parakeet to pretend it was Mutt come back.” He coughed. “Damned old Lolly. Anyway, the way she died, it reminded me of the woman in Bitter Money. I swiped the book after dinner to compare symptoms, but I couldn't exactly parade it around the house, could I? My morning coffee might've had something in it aside from sugar and cream.”

“The book vanished-”

“I'm guessing Mutt did away with it. And the police frankly don't seem to care. His money tips the scales of balance round here. And Tricia Yarbrough's been sweet on him since forever. She won't want to believe he's a killer.”

“You're underestimating Judge Yarbrough. She won't relent on him, or anyone else she thinks killed Lolly. After all, she ordered the additional tests.”

Philip shrugged. “Then maybe it becomes more important than ever that he vanish. And sooner rather than later.”

“Your brother thinks Mutt is the poisoner,” I blurted.

Philip cocked a finger at me, and I realized I still held the unloaded gun. I tucked it back into my pants.

“Tom might be dead on. Lolly finds out that Mutt's faking his own demise and she threatens to expose him if he doesn't stay. He takes Jake's medicine and doses her wine with it. She dies from what looks like a heart attack. Even if the poison gets detected, he can always point to her eccentricities as evidence of craziness, of suicide. That'd be conveniently backed up by the cards she sent you.”

“I don't think Mutt knew about those,” I countered. “But what about Aubrey? Mutt tried to kill him.”

Philip shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe Aubrey found out about his scheme somehow. And Aubrey wasn't winning over anyone with that book he was planning.” He didn't elaborate, and I didn't offer my own version- Aubrey let Mutt know he had stumbled across the truth about Paul's, or Brian's, death.

“I don't want to add to your hurt,” Philip said softly. “But maybe Aubrey wasn't the target. Maybe he was just someone who drank the same cranberry juice Candace did.”

The suggestion froze my heart. “Mutt would have no reason to hurt Candace. None at all.”

Philip's blue eyes looked a great deal like Pop's sometimes did, heavy and sad. “Except you haven't been exactly subtle about poking your nose in folks' business. And your dad's bragged to Mutt and Lolly-actually all of us, when you're not around-about your involvement in solving crimes. Maybe he aimed to poison Candace-not to kill her, just make her sick-to scare you off.”

“Then he miscalculated severely.”

Philip surprised me with a quick squeeze of my shoulder. “It's too bad I don't like you. We could've been friends.”

“You can't pick your relatives,” I said, and he laughed softly.

“You bring that gun up here to shoot me? Just curious.”

“No. It's not loaded. I wanted to scare you.” I glanced toward the window. I could not place why I believed Philip and not Mutt. Perhaps because Mutt had avoided my eyes, and Philip had been frank with his looks. Minor but telling.

“You scared me. For a minute.” He coughed again. “I am truly sorry about Candace and your baby.”

I grabbed his arm. “Then help me nail the son-of-a-bitch.”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked half-amused. “How? What should we do?”

“Force him to open the safe. See if he's still got those ID papers there.”

“That gun of yours didn't just become magically loaded, did it? Just how are we supposed to force him to do anything-”

And that's when the lights went out, popping like the last beat of a heart.

Philip and I stumbled out onto the second-floor hallway. It was pitch-dark. He had no candles or flashlights in his room, and I groped my way along the wall.

“Find Mutt,” Philip hissed. “I want to know where the hell he is.”

Brief illumination came with a scattershot of lightning arcing across the sky. “You find him. I gotta check on Can-dace.” Still carrying my unloaded gun, I sidled to the stairs and ran up to the top floor.

Candace's room was locked. I knocked hard and identified myself when Gretchen called for my name. The door opened a fraction.

One candle had been lit, shining weakly on the crowd gathered within. Candace-and now Aubrey, too-lay in bed, both still. Aubrey was mumbling to himself. Candace seemed flushed. Sass leaned over them both. Deborah, Sass, Pop, and Gretchen sat around the bed. Sweetie blinked at me, nestled against Gretchen's foot.

I closed the door behind me. They all stared at me.

“You've been in a fight,” Deborah noted.

“Are they okay? What's wrong-” I began to babble, but Sass cut me off with a wave of her hand.

“They're holding on. But it was too much for Deborah to run from room to room, so Bob Don carried Aubrey in here.” Her voice lowered a notch toward tenderness. “It was best not to move Candace.” I noticed then-Sass's right hand was linked with Aubrey's, her left with Candace's.

“Has she asked for me?” I leaned down and kissed Candace's forehead. She didn't stir in response.

“No,” Deborah answered. She mopped gently at Candace's brow. “They're slipping into coma, Jordan. We've got to get them to a hospital. I say we try the boats, even in the storm.” Sass moaned, averting her face from the rest of us.

“The power's out,” I announced, stating the obvious.

“What's going on downstairs?” Pop demanded. “I go down, you and Mutt are glaring at each other, he won't talk to me, he starts yelling for Wendy-”

“Stay here. All of you. Lock the door behind me. And don't open for anyone but me.”

“This is insane,” Sass blurted. “Acting frightened in our own house-”

“Aunt Sass, please.” I begged. “Just stay here. Aubrey needs you. So does Candace.”

She blinked at me, then at her brother. She fell silent and leaned her cheek against the quilts covering Aubrey's stomach.

“I'm coming with you,” Pop announced. He clambered to his feet.

“No, Pop, stay here. Protect the-”

“I can assure you,” Deborah announced icily, “that I can protect myself, and so can Gretchen and Sass.”

“Fine! Then y'all protect Pop! I don't want him in any trouble tonight!” My requests then apparently heeded, I kissed Candace's forehead again and dashed for the door.