If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [138]
She opened the bottom drawer of the dresser where in her room extra sheets and blankets were stored. They, too, were in here. She covered Vanessa’s body with a sheet and said a quick prayer. As she was about to cover her face she noticed something on the side of her neck.
Lucy carefully moved Vanessa’s hair and turned her head slightly to get a better view. A tiny red pinprick below Vanessa’s ear looked suspiciously like a needle mark. She cursed herself for not having her cell phone with her to take a picture, but since there was no reception up here she’d left her phone in the car. She searched the room, looking for another camera. If the Marshes didn’t have one, she’d ask the others, though she’d then have to explain why.
Vanessa’s death now appeared much more like murder.
THREE
A loud knock on the door was followed by Patrick calling out, “Lucy! It’s Patrick.”
She again put the sheet over Vanessa’s body in case anyone else was with him, and ran to the door, the digital camera she’d found in Vanessa’s purse now strapped to her wrist. Kyle DeWitt was there, along with Steve. She didn’t want anyone else in the room, and said, “Out of respect for the deceased, I think only Patrick should come in.”
“What’s going on?” Steve demanded. “Is Mrs. Marsh really dead?”
“Yes,” she said. “Please—”
“Oh my God.” Steve ran his hands through his mop of hair. He looked panicked. “This is terrible. What more could go wrong?”
The comment was cryptic, but Lucy didn’t ask him to elaborate. She caught Patrick’s eye and signaled to get rid of the other men. Patrick blocked the doorway. “Steve,” he said, “I need you to contact the Sheriff’s Department.”
“They won’t be able to get up here—”
“Call them. You have a landline, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“I know, it might be down, so try now before the storm gets worse. Tell them we have a deceased female, cause of death unknown, and to send a unit and coroner as soon as possible. Get a contact name and number, and tell them that there’s a retired police detective on scene.”
“You?” Kyle said. “You’re young to be retired.”
“Long story.” Patrick handed Steve one of his Rogan-Caruso-Kincaid business cards. “That’s my contact information and P.I. license number. I’ll call in as soon as I have something to report.”
“But what happened to her?” Kyle asked.
Lucy hesitated, then said, “I don’t know.”
Patrick glanced at her. Lucy was the world’s worst liar, and Patrick realized the situation was serious. “Kyle, would you go downstairs and tell everyone to see what they can do to comfort Trevor? As soon as Lucy and I get a handle on this, we’ll be down.”
He closed the door before either Steve or Kyle could object, then turned to Lucy and said, “What’s going on?”
“I found a needle mark on Vanessa’s neck.”
Patrick walked over to the body and was about to remove the sheet when he saw that Lucy was wearing gloves. “You do it.”
“They’re not latex, but it’s better than nothing,” she said.
“You must have been suspicious from the beginning to put them on.”
“Well, a little. The lid is on the pill bottle.”
“So?”
“Suicides aren’t usually so tidy. She could have put it on, out of habit, but then there’s the fact that she took a shower, but didn’t dress. I just thought—be careful. All the training beats it into you.”
“You can say that again.”
She pulled down the sheet. “Do you see it?” She pointed to the mark.
“Yes, but you must have been