CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - 3

Annie seated herself at a low cocktail table. She ordered a glass of champagne. She spotted Oliver walking across the tiled floor. She waved. He gave her a big smile and waved back. He leaned over to give her a kiss, but she gave him her cheek. “Nice to see you again.” He was effusive.

“Indeed.” Annie crossed her legs, showing off her spectacular boots. “So, Oliver, tell me again about your situation.” She couldn’t help but notice a smidge of white dust at the very edge of his nostril. This was too good to pass up. She immediately reached for his pocket square, pulled it sensuously out of his jacket, and dabbed it on his nose. “There. Much better,” she flirted. His mouth was agape at the possibility that she was coming on to him. Annie’s flair with sleight of hand allowed her to slip his handkerchief into her tote while he was focused on delivering his big fib again. Money for his car, blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .

Annie felt her phone vibrate. She checked to see who it was. Myra. She had to take the call. “Excuse me, Oliver. Sorry, I must take this.” She put her hand on his shoulder for reassurance and stepped far enough away so that he would not to be able to hear the exchange. “What’s up?”

“The George family just arrived.”

“Okay. I’m with Oliver.”

“Lori seems to have relaxed a little. She took a long hot shower and is wrapped in a cozy robe.”

“Chris told her parents to bring a fresh set of clothes.”

“Good thinking. For a man!” Myra chuckled. “We have a lot of loose ends to wrap up, and we’re going to need you up here. Can you ditch Oliver? Reschedule?”

“I don’t think I have to.”

“Oh?” Myra wondered what her wily friend had accomplished in a few short minutes.

“Got his handkerchief. Dabbed his nose with it, so there should be enough DNA on it, plus a smidge of powder.”

“You can add magician to your résumé.” Myra chuckled again. She was over the moon that they’d found Lori.

“Already did, my friend. You need to catch up.” Annie laughed and looked in Oliver’s direction. She made a serious face and then ended the call. She rushed over to where he was sitting. “Oliver, I am terribly sorry, but I have something that needs to be handled right now. Can we reschedule? Tomorrow, perhaps?”

Oliver’s face went from cheerful, to glum, then back to cheerful. “Oh, of course, Annie. Nothing serious, I hope. Well, I mean it is serious, but I hope it’s not life-threatening.” He was almost sincere.

“Nothing too awful, but necessary. I’ll be in touch.” She turned on her rhinestone-studded boot-heel and moved quickly to the elevator bank. The Sisters had to have a video meeting in the suite. She pivoted and went to the front desk, where she reserved a second two-bedroom suite for the George family, so they could relax and have dinner. Once Lori was more settled, she might be able to discuss some of the details of her ordeal. Having a U.S. Marshal on hand would be very helpful, as well. Once she secured the rooms, she went back to the elevator bank. She looked to see if Oliver was still nursing his drink. He was gone. Probably feeling defeated. Too bad.

Annie entered the suite and greeted the George family. Mrs. George was still crying. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“We could not be happier, believe me.” Annie gave her a hug. Then Mr. George wrapped his arms around both of them, while Chris and Chandler looked on. It was a very happy and satisfying moment for everyone. Annie explained that she’d reserved a room for them and invited them to stay the night. She went on to say that it was important for Lori to tell them everything she could remember. “Order whatever you want from room service.” She handed them the key card. “Your suite is right down the hall. If you feel like talking later, just knock on the door.”

Words of thanks and appreciation filled the room as the reunited family moved on to their own quarters.

Annie folded her arms and looked at Chris. “Now what do we do about you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“We gals have to have a little sit-down.”

“And I am not invited,” Chris stated.

“You are correct.” Myra gave him a slight smile.

“Why don’t you go get some dinner in the restaurant, and then we can recon in an hour or so.” It wasn’t a question, and Chris knew it.

He scratched his head. “You know, I could lose my job over this.”

“How?” Myra asked.

“Why?” Annie chimed in. “You haven’t done anything illegal. Plus, you rescued a kidnapped woman. That’s hardly reason to terminate your employment. I would think it deserves a promotion.”

“Absolutely!” Myra and Maggie agreed.

“Yeah, well, it’s a slippery slope. But if my career turns to dog doo-doo—no offense, Chandler—I trust you will help me find gainful employment.”

“Gainful employment for Christopher Gaines.” Annie smirked.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Good thing I’m accustomed to atypical behavior.”

“Yes, if I recall, your fiancée, Luna, is rather gifted,” Myra said.

“Among many other things.” He snorted. “Mind if Chandler stays with you? I promise he is not outfitted with listening devices.”

Annie looked at Myra. “Ha. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“See you in a few.” He gave a two-finger salute. “Chandler, keep an eye on them.” The dog gave him a soft woof .

Just as Chris was leaving, Isabelle and Kat entered. They introduced themselves. “Chris was just leaving,” Annie said.

“Handsome,” Kat said admiringly, after Myra shut the door.

“Let’s get this party started,” Annie said. She opened her laptop and messaged Charles and Fergus. Within a minute, everyone’s laptops began playing “We Are Family,” and the women were rocking in their chairs.

“We have several items we can check off the list,” Annie began. “I’ll start with the most recent. Please hold your applause until I’m done.” She winked and began: “Missing woman rescued in cabin owned by Dickie Morton, after Eileen observed him delivering large box; Annie and U.S. Marshal discovered missing woman with the help of Chandler; traces of foxglove identified in the rug and the glass, and a row of them are on the Spanglers’ property; fingerprint DNA found familial match between Patricia and Oliver; Oliver’s DNA matched Congressman Garret Lambeau of West Virginia; Isabelle observed and took photos of secret room in Eugene, found traces of powder; Vanessa recognized Bart as the man with the pills who abducted her.” She took a short bow. Then came the hoots, hollers, and high fives.

Maggie was feverishly scribbling everything down. “Wow, oh, wow.”

“Next comes the really hard part. Telling Milton his son is not his son, and he’s a drug addict. Then there’s the drug manufacturing part.”

“I think we should show Chris the photos before we do anything more,” Isabelle said. “He could order a search warrant, no?”

“We can certainly ask. Besides, you had every right to be there. You can tell him you have reason to believe there is suspicious activity at the inn.”

Fergus chimed in. “She’s right. You can’t be incriminated for entering a part of the building you were supervising.”

Isabelle let out a sigh of relief.

“Milton mentioned that the electric bills at Salem and Eugene were higher than the other inns, and there were additional renovation costs for concrete and bulletproof doors. Perhaps Chris can include those items in the search warrants,” Myra said.

“We might be able to get Milton’s permission, provided he won’t be held accountable.”

“Very true,” Fergus said. “Milton can explain he has suspicion of wrongdoing on his property. That will enable law enforcement to dust and fingerprint the scene.”

“Ah. Law enforcement. It would appear the local deputy might have an issue following up, so what do we do about him?”

All eyes went to Kathryn. “No, not Pearl.” Pearl was a thorn in Kathryn’s side. She was also the group’s travel concierge, but not in the typical way. Once the Sisterhood captured the culprits they identified, Pearl would dispose of them. No one was ever murdered, but given the choice, the perpetrators might choose death over the sentences handed down by the Sisters. Myra and Annie were constantly forcing Kathryn to deal with Pearl, in the hope they could mend their differences.

“We will also have to figure out what to do with Bart and Dickie.”

“And Oliver,” Annie said.

“And Patricia. We believe she was the one who spiked Milton’s drink,” Myra stated.

“Patricia? Why?” Isabelle asked.

“The foxglove,” Fergus offered. “It’s a woman’s weapon of choice.”

“Okay, but why would she want to kill Milton?” Isabelle persisted.

“That’s a question she will have to answer,” Fergus responded.

“And how do we get her to do that?” Isabelle asked.

“I have an idea. It’s an old trope from a lot of British mysteries,” Charles offered.

“Continue, please,” Myra urged.

“You get all the suspects in the room, and you simply lay out the facts,” Charles replied.

“I think we have to get all the evidence collected first, don’t you?” Myra asked.

“Yes, which means the marshal has to execute the search warrant, which means we have to get Milton’s permission,” Charles said.

“We can’t call Milton at this hour.” Myra checked the time.

“I don’t think we can wait, love. Anything could happen, especially if someone thinks we’re on to them.”

Myra sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She picked up her phone and called Milton. Patricia answered.

“Hello, Patricia, I am so sorry to disturb you, but it’s important I speak with Milton.”

“What is this about?” Patricia asked stiffly.

“Something he asked me to research.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Patricia’s voice was terse.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Myra pushed.

“Just a moment.”

Myra could tell Patricia was not happy about this intrusion. About a minute later, Milton got on the phone. “Myra? Everything alright?”

“No, Milton. Some of your concerns have been confirmed.”

“Oh? How so?”

“We need you to give permission to search three of the inns. Permission to a U.S. Marshal.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Milton was befuddled.

“I can have him come to your house, and you can sign a letter of permission.” She looked at Fergus. He nodded.

“When do you want to do that?” Milton asked, exhaling deeply.

“In about an hour?”

“Tonight?” He sounded stunned.

“Yes, Milton. I am sorry, but this cannot wait.” Myra was stroking her pearls.

“Well, fine, then. Who should I expect to be arriving?”

“U.S. Marshal Gaines, and his K-9, Chandler.”

“Alright, Myra. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“That’s why you called me, remember?” she said kindly.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Milton was tired. Spent.

“Thank you, Milton. We’ll speak in the morning.”

Myra hung up, wondering how he was going to respond to all the other accusations and revelations.

“I hate to assume anything, but the letter should grant permission for a search of Blaine, Salem, and Eugene. Those seem to be the hot spots right now,” Charles suggested, while Fergus typed the official document.

“I’ll have this off to you in a jiffy,” he said to the group.

“Alright, so let’s play this out. Chris brings the letter to Milton. Milton signs it. Chris notifies the DEA, and they dispatch agents to the three locations,” Charles said.

“What about Dickie and Bart?” Kat asked. “What are we going to do with them? I mean, what is Pearl going to do with them?”

Everyone looked around the table and into their laptop screens. “Technically, they are both kidnappers,” Charles said.

“I suggest Pearl take them to an impoverished community in the hinterlands, where they’ll spend the rest of their lives digging ditches to help the villages get clean water,” Myra recommended. “They’ll never see civilization again.”

“And Oliver?” Charles asked.

“I know it’s going to break Milton’s heart when he finds out Oliver isn’t his son.” Myra sighed.

“Yes, but we can’t let that sway us from this mission,” Charles insisted. “The man has put people’s lives in danger. Remember, if he is the ringleader in this drug manufacturing, which I have no doubt, he is contributing to the addiction and deaths of thousands.”

“You’re right, Charles.”

“If he’s doing cocaine, then fentanyl would cause the exact opposite reaction in him,” Maggie said.

“So, let’s shoot him up with fentanyl for a few days and make him go through withdrawal,” Kat suggested.

“Then Pearl can take him someplace where there are no roads for fancy sports cars,” Annie added.

“And Patricia?” Maggie asked.

“I think jail would be a perfect place for her, actually,” Myra said. “The humiliation would be torture for her, as well as for Congressman What’s-his-name.”

“Ah, another Beltway scandal.” Maggie chuckled.

“But this one is juicier than most of the others.” Annie had a wicked grin on her face.

“Really juicy. How do we get her arrested?”

“The evidence points to her.”

“So we’ve got to get the deputy, Dickie, and Bart out of the way ASAP,” Kat said.

“We’ll take Oliver to Pinewood and keep him there for several days. Then Pearl can dispose of him,” Myra said.

“What about Milton?” Isabelle asked.

“I’ll break the news to him about Oliver not being his son. Once that fact settles in, I am sure he’ll have no problem when I tell him we’ve sent him off to a permanent rehab center.”

“That could work,” Annie said. “I’ll invite Oliver to Tahoe. I’m sure he’d go for it. Once we’re on the plane, we’ll drug him with fentanyl and bring him to Pinewood, where we’ll continue to knock him out. We’ve done that before. Then he’ll go into withdrawal. Then buh-bye.”

“I like it,” Kat said. “But how do we get the police to arrest Patricia?”

“I think Marshal Gaines will be able to make a recommendation.”

“That man had no idea what he was getting himself into.” Charles laughed, and so did the rest of the group.

Maggie’s laptop dinged. The letter of permission came through from Fergus.

Annie checked the time. “Speaking of the marshal, he should be back shortly. We should wrap this up.”

“Right-o,” Charles said.

“Everyone know what their assignments are?” Annie asked.

Kathryn raised her hand. “How do we get Dickie, Bart, and the deputy?”

“We hack into their phones and send them text messages to meet at the office,” Charles suggested. “Simple. When they arrive, there will be a blackout, and Pearl and her people can do what the men did to Vanessa and Lori. And away they go.”

“Okay. As soon as Kathryn can get Pearl here, we should be able to pull this off,” Annie said.

Kathryn was already sending Pearl a message. Pearl replied.

I have people that can get there in an hour.

Kathryn read it out loud, then added, “Man, that woman has people everywhere.”

“And that’s why we love her, Kathryn.” Myra smirked. “She is always there for us, whenever and wherever we need her.”

“She has one heck of a network,” Kathryn remarked.

“We know nothing about it, and it shall remain that way, just as she knows nothing about what we do on our end. Capisce ?” Annie added.

Everyone nodded and agreed. They turned to the image of Lady Liberty and saluted. “Whatever it takes!” was their battle cry, with fist bumps all around.

* * *

Charles sent Avery a message that Sasha and Eileen should be on alert. Bart would be on the move, and if Dickie had left the office, he too would be heading back within the hour.

* * *

A knock on the hotel room door signaled Chris was back. Myra and Annie were going to share the plan with him. Slowly. They were about to dump a heap of information on his lap. Chandler headed to Isabelle. “You must be sniffing Rufus.” She gave him doggie scrunches.

“If I dare ask, what have you come up with in my brief absence?” Chris was dubious, based on what he’d already witnessed.

“Chris, we have a letter that needs to be signed by Milton Spangler to allow you and the DEA to search three of his properties. He has reason to believe someone has been using his facilities to manufacture illegal drugs.”

Chris listened carefully as Isabelle recounted her probe of the laundry room and showed him the photos.

“And from what Lori told us on the way to the doctor’s office, she was being held in a similar space, but without any equipment. It appeared they may have been in the process of setting up another facility.”

“That would make sense, given the location and proximity to the Canadian border and Ketchikan, Alaska.” Chris nodded.

“Milton is expecting you to bring this over for him to sign. It will give you and any other government agency permission to inspect the premises.”

“If we went the normal route, it could take days. Maybe weeks,” Annie added. “And if they suspect anything, they may dismantle their operations to avoid any connection to the two missing women.”

“Who are no longer missing,” Chris said.

“Yes, but no one knows they’ve been recovered except their immediate families. As far as law enforcement and the media are concerned, they are still missing.”

“Alright. I’ll get on it. Let’s have the address.”

“Er, there are a couple more things.”

“I knew it was too good to be true.” Chris smiled drolly.

“We have reason to believe Patricia poisoned Milton.”

“And you know this how?” He was bracing himself for what he was about to hear.

“A lab found traces of digitalis in the glass he was drinking from. There’s foxglove growing on the property.”

“And it’s a woman’s weapon of choice,” Maggie added.

Chris let out a slight laugh. “So, how are we going to pursue that?”

“Ah. He’s using the term we ,” Annie taunted.

“I’m already in up to my neck. Next item on the agenda, please.” Chris pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the DEA and have them on standby. I’ll need all the locations.”

“Perfect. I’ll text them to you now,” Myra said, and began scrolling through her phone for the information.

Annie cleared her throat. “This is the tricky part.”

“There’s more?” He raised an eyebrow.

“What we were thinking of doing is to confront Patricia, Oliver, and Milton at the same time. Well, actually, we’d give Milton a heads-up. No need for him to have another heart attack.”

Isabelle spoke next. “What about the congressman?”

Chris scrunched up his face. “A congressman?”

“Garret Lambeau,” Maggie said. “Oliver’s biological father.”

“This just keeps getting better and better.” Chris pursed his lips. “The guy is a slippery career politician.”

“Ha. Aren’t they all?” Annie snickered.

“He was one of the people trying to defund law enforcement,” Chris said.

“Well, maybe this will defund his retirement,” Maggie said.

“Doubtful. I don’t think even murder would get some of those jerks out of government,” Chris replied. “So what’s your plan?”

Myra laid it out for everyone, except the Pearl portion. Chris did not need to know, nor should he know, about that part of the plan. “Chris, you’ll go to Milton’s and get the letter signed. Do what you have to do to share it with the DEA.”

Chris looked at his phone. The addresses popped up on the screen. He forwarded them to his contact at the Drug Enforcement Administration.

“We have to get Oliver, Patricia, and Milton together before news breaks of the raids.”

“Or someone can call Milton and tell him when the DEA agents arrive at his facilities. Then he can call Oliver and insist he come over to the house. Something this serious can’t wait until morning. He won’t need an excuse to get people out of bed.”

“Chris, you can arrest someone for murder, correct?” Maggie asked.

“If I have reason to believe a crime has been committed, yes.”

“Great. Then we’ll all go over to Milton’s,” Annie said.

“And you have the evidence?” he asked.

“Fingerprints on Milton’s glass, traces of foxglove, and foxglove plants,” Myra repeated. “Plus, we expect a confession.”

“That should be enough to detain someone,” Chris noted.

“What about the rest of us?” Maggie asked.

“You will break the story of Patricia’s arrest. Call your pal at the station when we give you the go-ahead,” Annie said.

Chris stared at the floor.

“Something wrong?” Myra asked.

“Are you sure you’re not part of a special forces organization?” He smirked.

“Yes and no.” Annie raised an eyebrow.

“Better I don’t know.” He looked around the room.

Izzie and Kathryn were standing by to hear from Pearl. The plan was for them to meet up with her people at the office complex and help implement the gas-and-grab. Three unconscious adult men would require some heavy lifting.

“Ready?” Chris asked. Chandler woof ed. “I mean everyone?”

“Whatever it takes!” they all shouted.

“I am going to hate myself for this,” he muttered under his breath.

“Nah.” Annie gave him a friendly push.

Myra phoned Milton. “We’re on our way.”

“What do you mean we ?” Milton asked. “You’re coming here, too?”

“Milton, we have some serious things to discuss.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“I’ll explain everything when we get there. See you in a few minutes.”

* * *

When Myra, Annie, Christopher, and Chandler arrived at Milton’s, Patricia answered the door with the most unpleasant expression on her face. She said nothing, turned, and walked everyone into the study, then left.

Myra gave Milton a hug. Then it was Annie’s turn. They introduced him to Chris. Myra went to the sideboard and opened a fresh bottle of brandy. She knew Milton would need something to steady his nerves, and she wanted to be sure there weren’t any additives in his drink. She handed him the glass.

“Please explain before I have another heart attack,” Milton asked politely.

“That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Chris began to explain. “We have evidence that shows you received a mild dose of digitalis poisoning. It was obtained from the glass you had been drinking from, and a small piece of carpet that was tested.”

Milton looked down at the rug. “Where?”

Annie moved the chair to uncover her handiwork. “Sorry.”

“Both the glass and carpet contain traces of foxglove.”

“Foxglove? But where did it come from?” Milton asked.

“Your garden, Mill. In front of the privet I was admiring.”

“That was only planted a little over a week ago.” Milton shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Annie took the reins. “The foxglove was mixed with your brandy. It could have been lethal, but the doctors gave you a lot of fluids that helped flush the toxins out. It was a seizure brought on by poisoning. Not a heart attack, as they had assumed in the beginning.”

“So that’s why you asked about who gave me the glass?” Milton hung his head.

“Both Patricia’s and Oliver’s fingerprints were on the glass, in addition to yours, of course,” Chris added.

“But why?” Milton was devastated.

“We don’t know for sure.” Myra looked at Annie and Chris. The next shock was about to be delivered. Myra squatted down in front of Milton and took his hands. “Mill, this next bit of information is going to hurt.”

“What could hurt more than finding out your wife or your son tried to kill you?”

“That’s the other part of it. Mill, there’s no easy way to say this, but Oliver is not your son.”

The room was completely silent. Milton began to nod. “This may sound cruel, but I am not surprised. I could never understand how he could be so different from Benjamin. I always blamed it on Patricia’s coddling. Now I know why.”

Myra watched him carefully. He appeared to be taking the news better than she’d expected. “Did you know she was having an affair?”

“I suspected it. She was taking too many trips back and forth to D.C. Am I wrong to guess it was Garret Lambeau?” he said miserably.

“What makes you say that?” Chris asked.

“She mentioned his name more frequently than any other of her Beltway cronies. And she was always in a delightful mood just before and after her trips.” Milton shook his head. “I should have confronted her, but we had things nicely arranged.”

Myra stood and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Actually, yes. I always felt guilty that I didn’t have the same relationship with Oliver as with Benjamin, and I resented it. As far as Patricia, well, we haven’t been blissfully happy in years. If ever. We were well-suited but probably never in love, really.”

Annie glanced at Myra with a now what? shrug.

“Mill, we want you to call Oliver and have him come over tonight. Benjamin, too. I know it’s late, but the DEA agents will be on the Blaine, Eugene, and Salem premises within the hour. You’re calling a family meeting.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“We’ll do most of the talking,” Chris assured him.

“We wanted to let you know what was going on and not blindside you later,” Myra said.

“Alright. Let’s do it.” He phoned Oliver first. Then Benjamin. Both asked lots of questions, but Milton told them they’d find out when they got there.

Milton finished his brandy and held the glass up to Myra. “Just a smidge, please?”

* * *

Izzie and Kathryn got the message that Pearl’s people were near the property. Before anything went down, they had to remove their belongings from the apartment. Fergus hacked into the security system and disabled the motion-detector cameras and the alarms. Once Kathryn and Izzie retrieved their things, they were able to access the interior offices using a key card Kat had swiped from Bart when they were chatting about trucks earlier that day.

Charles and Fergus cloned Oliver’s phone number and sent text messages to the deputy, Bart, and Dickie:

Meet me in my office. Pronto. No questions.

Kathryn and Izzie made their way through the dimly lit building, deposited their suitcases in their cars, and met up with Pearl’s people on the south side of the building. They were two very brawny-looking men with canisters of incapacitating gas in their backpacks. They also had a couple of hand trucks and furnished Izzie and Kathryn with gas masks. Then they waited.

* * *

Oliver arrived at his parents’ house within fifteen minutes. Benjamin showed up right after him. Milton decided if he was going to drop a few bombshells, he’d rather do it with the backdrop of the mountains and valley. Besides, the fresh air would do him good. Once Patricia and the boys were seated on the patio, he went back into the study and summoned Annie, Myra, Christopher, and Chandler. Expressions of total confusion filled Oliver, Patricia, and Benjamin’s faces as he introduced them to the marshal and his trusty dog.

Chris ran the meeting. He checked his phone. “In approximately fifteen minutes, the Drug Enforcement Administration will be descending upon the properties located at Salem, Eugene, and Blair.”

Oliver jumped out of his seat and shrieked, “What? You can’t do that! Not without a warrant!”

“They have my permission,” Milton said sadly.

“But why?” Oliver was outraged.

“We have reason to believe that illegal drugs have been manufactured at those locations.”

“That’s outrageous.” Oliver kept up his fury. “What gives you the right?”

“As your father said, he gave us permission.”

“Dad? You did this?” Oliver was stupefied and horrified.

Benjamin looked on with disbelief and spoke softly. “Dad? What’s going on?”

“Like the marshal said. Illegal drugs.”

Oliver was pacing. He was cornered. But he could still deny everything and blame Dickie.

Marshal Gaines disabused him of that notion. “We know it’s you, Oliver.”

“But that ridiculous! Why would I do such a thing?”

“Money,” Annie added. “Your desperation spelled it out. You were either in debt with some unsavory people, or you had a serious drug or gambling problem. My guess was both. You got into business with the wrong people while you were indulging yourself in copious amounts of cocaine.”

“Again, ridiculous.” Oliver huffed.

Annie pulled out the handkerchief. “I think this may prove otherwise.”

“You can’t have that. It’s my property!” He tried to grab it from Annie’s hand, but Chandler got between them.

“You may want to back away,” Christopher suggested, and Oliver took his seat. Chris’s phone pinged. The raid was on. He read the message out loud: “They found the false panels and bulletproof doors.”

“But how?” Oliver was in a state of disbelief. Then he remembered Isabelle’s trip. “That woman! I knew she was up to something!”

Myra and Annie said nothing. Patricia went pale, paler than even before. Her hands were shaking, and she was beginning to sweat. “Are you alright, Mrs. Spangler?” Chris asked.

“I need . . . I need some aspirin.” She got up to leave.

“I’ll go with you,” Annie offered.

“I don’t need your help, thank you.” Patricia defiantly walked out of the room. Annie, equally defiant, followed her.

Patricia’s hands continued to shake as she opened one of the drawers in her walk-in closet. Annie stood outside and watched. “They got you hooked, too?” she said.

Patricia was startled. “What are you talking about?” She clutched the mock aspirin bottle to her chest.

Annie pried it out of her fingers. Patricia made a valiant attempt to recover it, but Annie was in much better shape and yanked the bottle out of her hands, sending Patricia tumbling backwards. Annie reached down and pulled her up. “Come on. There’s much more to this sordid story.” Patricia tried to resist, but again, Annie outmuscled her.

When they returned to the patio, Oliver was sitting with his head in his hands. Benjamin was still baffled. This was all surreal.

Christopher continued. “Oliver Spangler, I am placing you under arrest for the attempted murder of your father, Milton Spangler.”

Patricia cried out: “No! No, it wasn’t Oliver! It was me!”

Milton looked at her sadly. “Why, Patricia? Why?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, Milton. I was just trying to stop the meeting. I knew Oliver was in trouble. I hoped I could buy some time until I could figure it out.” Patricia was weeping.

Chris bit his lip. “Mrs. Patricia Spangler, I am arresting you for attempted murder and aggravated assault.”

“No! No! No!” She was screaming.

“But before you go, there is one more thing that needs to be shared.” Milton was standing tall. “I know about your affair with Garret. I also know he’s Oliver’s biological father.”

Oliver was shrieking. Patricia was wailing. It was a cacophony of agony, despair, and disbelief. All the facades were in ruins.

Chris placed Patricia in handcuffs and walked her toward the front door. He turned to Myra. “How did you know she’d confess?”

“A mother will do anything to protect her child,” Myra said with sad eyes.

Annie tossed the bottle of counterfeit fentanyl she had wrestled from Patricia over to Chris. “Evidence?”

Christopher opened the front door and helped Patricia over the threshold. Cameras and portable lights were immediately in her face. Questions from a reporter were being jackhammered. “Did you cheat on your husband, Mrs. Spangler? Is it true that you poisoned him?” Lights were flashing. People were yammering. It was humiliation in its highest form. She now had a true understanding of the expression “die of embarrassment.”

Back on the patio, Milton leaned against the outdoor stone fireplace. It was terrible to think that he actually felt a sense of relief.

* * *

Dickie and Bart arrived at the office at the same time. Deputy Nelson was already there, smoking a cigarette. “What’s this all about?” he asked the other two men.

“Got no idea.” Dickie looked at Bart.

“What? Beats me, boss.”

“Let’s get this over with.” Nelson jerked his head in the direction of the side door. It was the only one in use after business hours. As soon as the three men were halfway down the hall, canisters of incapacitating gas came rolling toward them. They started coughing and grasping at their throats. Seconds later, they were on the floor.

Pearl’s operatives quickly moved the three men out the south door and into a waiting van. One of the brawny men pulled out a syringe and injected the listless bodies with a sedative. “Nighty-night,” he said to the sleeping lowlifes. He slid the doors shut, locked them, and hopped into the driver’s seat, as the other one got into the passenger side. They gave a short salute and drove the three away, never to be seen or heard from again.

* * *

Milton turned to Oliver. “It’s time for you to go.” Oliver sulked his way toward the door. Some of the press still lingered.

“Don’t you people have something better to do?” he screamed at them. That, too, would appear on the eleven o’clock news later that evening.

Milton sat at the table with Benjamin, Myra, and Annie. “Are you alright, Dad?” Benjamin took his father’s hand.

“Aside from this drama?” Milton smiled. “It’s been a heck of a week, wouldn’t you say?”