Catherine Coulter - Hemlock Bay

“That sounds more likely than someone trying to kill her, Mrs. Savich.”

“Yes, the raccoon theory is always preferable, isn’t it?”

Sherlock saw Dillon out of the corner of her eye. She rose, patted Dr. Larch on his shoulder, and said, “Take good care of Lily, Doctor.” At least now, she thought, walking quickly toward Dillon, Dr. Larch would keep a very close eye on Lily because he wouldn’t forget what she’d said. He would want to dismiss it as nonsense, but he wouldn’t be able to, not entirely.

Savich nodded across the cafeteria to Dr. Larch, then smiled down at his wife. Her light blue eyes seemed brighter than when he’d left her, and he knew why. She was up to something. And she was very pleased with herself.

“What about the car?”

“Nothing at all. It’s been compacted.”

“That was awfully fast, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, sort of like cremating a body before the autopsy could be done.”

“Exactly. Dr. Larch thinks Lily is just fine, mentally, thank you very much. Actually, I think he has a crush on her. It’s Dr. Rossetti he doesn’t like, but who knows why? Did you know that Dr. Rossetti and Tennyson went to medical school together? Columbia Presbyterian?”

“No. That’s interesting. Okay, Sherlock. I know that look. You either want me to haul you to the nearest hot tub and have my way with you, or you’ve done something. No hot tub? Too bad. All right, then. What have you done?”

“I planted a small bug just inside the slat on Lily’s hospital bed. I already heard some interesting stuff. Come along and I’ll play it back for you. Hmmm. About that hot tub, Dillon…”

They went to Lily’s room, saw that she was still asleep and no one else was there, and Sherlock shut the door. She walked to the window, fiddled with the tiny receiver and recorder, turned on rewind, then play.

“Dammit, she needs more pain medication.”

Savich said, “Who’s that?”

“Dr. Larch.”

“I cut it back, just like you ordered, but it was too much. Listen, there’s no need to make her suffer like this.”

“She doesn’t react well to pain meds, I’ve told you that several times. It makes her even crazier than she already is. Keep the pain meds way down. I don’t want her hurt anymore.”

Sherlock pressed the stop button and said, “That was Tennyson Frasier. What do you think it means?”

Sherlock slipped the tiny recorder back into her jacket pocket.

“It could be perfectly innocent,” Savich said. “On the other hand, the Explorer has been compacted. The guy at the junked car yard told me that Dr. Frasier told him to haul the Explorer in and compact it immediately. Will this thing click on whenever someone’s speaking?”

“Yes, it’s voice-activated. It turns off when there’s more than six seconds of silence. I got it from Dickie in Personnel. He’s a gadget freak, owed me one after I busted his sister’s boyfriend-you know, the macho drug dealer who was slapping her around.”

“Sherlock, have I ever told you that you never cease to amaze and thrill me?”

“Not recently. Well, not since last night, and I don’t think you had the same sort of intent then.”

He laughed, pulled her against him and kissed her. Her curly hair tickled his cheek. “Let’s call Mom and talk to Sean.”

Eureka, California

Clark Hoyt, SAC of the new EurekaFBI field office, which had opened less than a year before, handed Savich the bottle of pills. “Sorry, Agent Savich. What we’ve got here is a really common antidepressant, name of Elavil.”

“Not good,” Savich said and looked out the window toward the small park just to the left of downtown. The trees were bright with fall colors. If he turned his head a bit to the right, he’d see the Old Town section on the waterfront. A beautiful town, Humboldt’s county seat, Eureka was filled with countless fine Victorian homes and buildings.

“Something I can help you with, Agent Savich? Sounds like something’s happening you don’t like.”

Savich shook his head. “I wish there was something, but the pills are exactly what they should be. I guess it would have been really easy if they were something different. I told you that the Explorer my sister totaled has been compacted. I was really holding out big hopes for those pills. Oh yeah, call me Savich.”

“Okay, Hoyt here. Now, the Explorer-that was done awfully fast.”

“Yes, maybe too fast, but then again, my life’s work is to be suspicious. Maybe it was just very straightforward. As of right now, it’s all a dead end. However, I think it’s time I did a bit of digging on my brother-in-law, Dr. Tennyson Frasier.”

Clark Hoyt, who had heard of some of the exploits of Sherlock, Savich, and MAX, Savich’s transvestite laptop, said, “Don’t tell me that you didn’t do a background search on this guy before he married your sister? Seems to me a brother would have checked out the fillings in his teeth.”

“Well, yeah, sure I did. But not a really deep one. Just that he didn’t have a record, hadn’t ever been in rehab for drugs or alcohol, stuff like that.”

“And that he wasn’t a bigamist?”

“No, I didn’t check on that. Lily told me he’d been right up front about the fact that he’d been married before and that his wife had died. You know something, Hoyt? I wonder now what the first wife died of. I wonder how long they were married before she died.” His eyes brightened.

“Savich, you don’t really think he’s trying to kill his wife? The pills were just what they were supposed to be.”

“They were indeed, and I’m not sure. But you know, information is just about the most important thing any cop can have.” Savich rubbed his hands together. “MAX is going to love this.”

“You know that the Frasiers are a really big deal down in Hemlock Bay and the environs. Daddy Frasier has dealings all over the state, I understand.”

“Yeah. Before, I didn’t see the need to check into Papa’s finances and dealings, but now it’s time to be thorough.”

“Is your sister going to be all right?”

“Yes, she’ll be just fine.”

“I’ve got the names of some excellent psychiatrists in the area-all women, just like you wanted. I hope one of them will be able to help your sister.”

“Yeah, me too. But you know-no matter there’s no proof of any funny stuff, that it really does look like she just drove the Explorer into that redwood on purpose-I simply can’t believe that Lily tried to kill herself. No matter what anyone says, I find myself coming back again and again to the fact that it just doesn’t fit.”

“People change, Savich. Even people we love dearly. Sometimes we can’t see the change because we’re just too close.”

Savich took another look at that lovely park and said, “When Lily was thirteen, she was running a gambling operation in the neighborhood. She would take bets on anything from the point spread in college football games to who could shoot the most three-point baskets in any pro game. Drove my parents nuts. Since my dad was an FBI agent, the local cops didn’t do anything, just snickered a lot. I think they all admired her moxie, but they gave my dad lots of grief about it, called her a chip off the old block.

“When she hit eighteen, she suddenly realized that she liked to draw and she was very good at it. She’s an artist, you know, very talented.”

“No, I hadn’t heard.”

“Actually, her talent comes from our grandmother, Sarah Elliott.”

“Sarah Elliott? Good grief, the Sarah Elliott, the artist whose paintings are in all the museums?”

“Yep. Lily’s talents lie in a different direction-she’s an excellent cartoonist, lots of humor and irony. Have you ever heard of the cartoon strip No Wrinkles Remus?”