The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) (27 page)

* * * *

After I returned home and had my second cup of strong black tea, I started making the New York Cheesecake for Will’s birthday dinner tomorrow night. Ricotta and cream cheese, butter, sour cream…not for the faint of heart. I was looking forward to having everyone home together. It didn't happen often these days.

After I put the cheesecake in the oven, the phone rang.

“Kay, it’s Thom.”

“Have you found out anything?”

“Well, yes. I contacted both doctors at the lab facilities. Didn’t learn much of anything talking to Dr. Richard Stewart at Bioengineering in Sudbury Falls. When I spoke to Dr. Kessler at Ag-Lab, that wasn't the case. Said he still had the samples and would run further tests on them after I told him about the professor’s suspicious death. He called back last night. Besides finding an opiate gene sequence in the ginseng, he also found fragments of human DNA remains in the soil sample.”

I frowned. DNA in the soil suggested that human remains had been situated near the site. “Human remains?”

“You heard me right. Could be Indian burial grounds or an old graveyard. I know there are a number of Indian mounds in the area, but—” He paused. “Well, since it was in the topsoil, we doubt that's the explanation.”

“Wow! And at the other lab, it was Dr. Richard Stewart you spoke to?”

“Yes.”

“My gosh! When we were in Al's house, Al mentioned that Richard couldn't make it. All along, you know, I've been assuming that was Professor Richard Laska.”

“Well—”

“Still could be, but come to think of it, at the free clinic, the nursing supervisor interrupted Dr. Anders. She said a Dr. Stewart was on the phone. I bet he's related to Al and John.”

“Possibly. I'll find out.”

I told Thom about Margaret's clean bill of health before her death, Dr. Anders face, and his turning on to Margaret's block after we worked the free clinic. “I think there's a possibility he killed her to keep her quiet. She might have put up a fight. Do you think that's possible?” At that moment, I remembered I had the cheesecake in the oven and wasn’t even sure if I had the timer on or not. I took the phone with me and walked to check on the cheesecake. Somehow whenever I talked to Thom, I seemed to forget the time. All was fine. The timer was clicking away, and I still had plenty of time to go.

“That's pure speculation. Listen, Kay, you need to be careful from this point on. There seems to be a lot of people dying up there all of a sudden.”

“Things
are
starting to heat up. Wednesday night when I was in bed reading, an intruder broke into our home looking for who knows what. Phil wasn't home yet.”

“Do you want me to fly up there?”

“Not necessary. Please don't.” I had enough already on my plate. “By the way, I should tell you, I did confront Dr. Anders yesterday when I was out walking.”

“You what? Were you alone? Well, I hope you didn't tell him you think he murdered Margaret.”

“Just about. I wanted to let him know that people are on to him.”

Thom let out a heavy sigh. “Are trying to get yourself killed?”

I cleared my throat. “I had to let him know he wouldn’t get away with it. Told him any other deaths in town would be directly linked to him. By the way, the FBI agent couldn't have come at a more opportune time.”

“What agent? The FBI is sending two agents up to Sudbury Falls later today who will be contacting you.”

I told Thom about the man who followed me.

“Kay, step back from this investigation before you get hurt. Promise me you will. You don’t want me there, not yet, but I’m worried for you.”

I took a deep breath. If the man on that bench when I confronted Dr. Anders wasn't an agent, who was he? Suddenly I was worried, but I didn’t want to let on. Thom seemed concerned enough, so instead I said, “There wouldn't be an investigation if I had stayed out of it.”

“Just stay close to home for the next few days, and don't go confronting any suspects while you’re alone in the woods. It is all woods up there, isn't it?”

“We'd better change the subject.”

“Well, all right.” A pause followed. “How's the family? Isn't Will graduating next month?”

I told Thom about Will’s upcoming graduation, his birthday, and about Andrew’s new job in St. Paul and his recent engagement to Rose.

“Wonderful news. Congratulate them for me.”

After a little more idle conversion, I hung up with Thom. Thinking of how often he said the word “well” made me smile. I hadn’t noticed that in him before. My mind wandered between thinking about Uncle Jimi and who Phil was talking to when Deirdre overheard him the night I worked at the clinic. Was it someone from class? Should I confront him? Did I want to know? I trusted him. This was absurd. I wasn't going to dictate who he could and couldn’t talk to, just as I wouldn’t like him to do the same to me. But he did say, “Don't tell Kay.” Why would he have said that? That statement kind of made it my business to find out what he had been talking about and to whom. I shook my head. And we just had the best time yesterday over dinner and during the evening.

My mind went back to Uncle Jimi. No time like the present to go to The Starlite and talk to him. I needed to get as much information as I could to hand over to the FBI when I met with them. I'd see the proprietors of the other businesses afterward. I took the cheesecake out of the oven, placed it on the cooling rack, and left.

* * * *

The bell attached to the front door jingled as it opened. Two heads, at first lowered together in murmured conversation, rose and turned toward the man who entered the doorway of the back room of the patisserie. Dr. Anders stood for a moment at the entrance and then strolled over to the round table in the corner to join his companions. They drew their heads closer together once more.

“All right, now that we’re all here, the reason I called this meeting is because of Kay Driscoll.” Dr. Anders looked around. “Where's Marissa? I don't have a lot of time to eat, and I'm starving.”

“Kay?” Al asked, raising his eyebrows. “What about?”

“We had a confrontation on the pathway by the river yesterday. She threatened me, if you can believe that, talked about knowing what I did, that others knew as well, and that the FBI is watching me.”

Al made a face and said, “Kay's—” Marissa walked into the room and over to the table. The men leaned back as she unloaded her tray. “Here you go, Al, two chocolate almond croissants. Cinnamon brioche French toast, Bill. Dr. Anders, what can I get you?”

“Black coffee and the Miraval omelette. Side order of rye toast.”

“Anyone else? More coffee?”

Al smiled at Marissa. “This looks great. Thanks, we’re fine.”

“That will be all, Marissa,” Dr. Anders said in a dismissive manner. He jerked his head toward the door.

Bill watched Marissa as she walked away. He leaned closer into the circle. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, Kay Driscoll. How could she have come up with those allegations?”

Al shook his head. “Michael, you sure are rude.” He took a sip of his coffee. “By the way, I tried getting in touch with you yesterday. Was your phone dead? Richard received a call from the FBI regarding the ginseng samples Walters sent to him.”

“Well, you should have tried harder.”

Al's eyes narrowed to slits. “Why don't you try charging your phone?”

Bill wiped the maple syrup dripping down from his chin looking at Dr. Anders. “Al contacted me about the FBI. Hmmm... It's clear. That woman needs to go. I knew she would interfere from the start when she and her nosy friends discovered Walters in the river. She asked too many questions. She's trouble.”

“No, Kay's harmless. She's bluffing,” Al said.

“What if she does know something? We can’t trust her to keep quiet if she does. Or her friends,” Bill said. “It’s too bad. Elizabeth's a hot little number. But, we haven't come this far to have those three mess things up.”

“Doubt she knows anything. How would she?” Al said. “And Bill, we can't have yet another murder in Sudbury Falls. That has to stop.” Al glared at Dr. Anders.

“There could be an unfortunate accident, Al. I think the coroner could record it as such.”

Al gave Bill a cold stare.

Dr. Anders laughed jovially. “But without Kay, who would I work with at the free clinic? Hmmm... She's a great nurse. I agree with Al, she doesn’t know anything. Just bluffing. Scare her. We don't want Kay killed.”

Fool. She's a loose end, Bill thought.

Marissa entered the room and walked over to the table with a tray. “Dr. Anders, the Miraval omelette, rye toast, and black coffee.” Al smiled at Marissa.

Marissa started clearing off a nearby table. She glanced at the men speaking in low voices in the corner. They stopped talking until she walked out of the room with a tray of dirty dishes.

“If John was here, he'd agree with me,” Murphy said.

“Well, he's not,” Al said in a blunt, hushed voice. “Wouldn't matter anyway.”

Dr. Anders put his coffee cup down on the saucer. “Al, Kay's your friend. Hell, I like the woman. Talk some sense into her. She needs to stop making these wild accusations. Convince her she doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does.” He started eating.

The dark spirit reflected on their faces seemed to have dimmed Marissa's usually bright patisserie, as if only the weakest of light bulbs had been turned on this morning.

Al finished his croissants. “I need to get back,” Al said in a cold voice, getting up from the table. “I'll see if I can think of a way to dissuade Kay.” He left.

“Al's never going to persuade that woman,” Bill said.

Dr. Anders ate the last bite of his toast. “Let him try.” He threw some money down on the table and left.

Alone at the table, Bill mumbled under his breath, “I may have to take matters into my own hands.”

* * * *

Walking past the patisserie, I looked in the back windows where Deirdre, Elizabeth, and I always sat. Dr. Anders, Al, and Bill Murphy were at a table leaning in close to each other like conspirators, deep in conversation, in all likelihood discussing who they would bump off next. I should have gone in and spied on them, sat down at the next table, and listen to what they were talking about. But, probably not a great idea after meeting up with Anders yesterday.

It was eleven o'clock by the time I reached The Starlite and opened its heavy metal door. It took a few moments, coming in from the bright sunshine, for my eyes to adjust to the subdued light. The bar had just been open for a short while, but already there were three patrons seated at the bar. Uncle Jimi was behind the bar, glancing over the stock of liquor bottles. The Starlite Lounge was a retro experience, laid back, comfortable, and welcoming, just like Uncle Jimi. High-backed chairs encircled small cocktail tables, and sofas were scattered throughout the area. Chrome accents and a teal and orange color scheme rounded out the scene.

“Uncle Jimi...hello.”

Jimi turned around and recognition was born on his face. He broke into an easy smile. “Hey there, Kay. What's going on?” He put the bottles he was holding down on the bar.

I looked over at the men sitting at the bar.

“Pull up a chair over here,” Uncle Jimi said, leading me over to a table some distance from the bar.

“I saw you coming out of the patisserie this morning while I was walking.”

“I'm addicted to Marissa's pastries. Seen you there with Walters' wife, the professor who drowned. Shame what went down with him.”

“Yes, Mary Ann. It is a shame. Did Dr. Walters ever come in here?”

“Never. I did see him at Sonnie's though, the night before he died. He had tied one on.”

“What do you mean?”

“He must have had a good time. Quite drunk.”

A sudden rush of adrenaline tingled through my body. My eyes opened wide. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I was back in the alley taking the garbage out to the dumpster. Watched him being helped into the back of a car by two guys. Couldn't even walk. Had to drag him.”

“Did you see who they were?”

“John Stewart was one. He comes in here once in a while. Nasty fellow. The other,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Could have been one of the farm workers. Didn’t think Dr. Walters would have consorted with that type, but different sorts find common ground in a whisky bottle.”