If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [158]
“Unless she withheld them or swapped them out,” Patrick said.
“If she was giving Steve the blood pressure meds, that would explain his dizziness and fainting. And Kyle”—Lucy looked at him—“you drank the orange juice that Steve had been drinking earlier. That’s how she did it.”
“Why?”
“So she could control and sell the land. This place has no mortgage on it, it’s worth a small fortune, and I’ll bet she embezzled the money Leo left to run the lodge.”
“You know what you’re saying?” Patrick said.
Lucy nodded, shivering more from her deduction than from the cold. “She killed Leo.”
“Let’s get inside and contact the sheriff,” Patrick said, “and get everyone in one room.”
They started toward the stairs to the porch, and that’s when Lucy saw Steve standing at the top. His face turned from shock to rage.
“What did you say?”
“Steve, we need to get everyone in the house. Everyone. We need to talk.”
“Tell me what you meant—who killed my father?”
Lucy stepped forward, her boots sinking into the snow. Fast was not an option, but she moved as quickly as she could, worried that Steve would do something stupid. “We’ll talk about this inside.”
“Tell me!” he shouted.
“Steve, I don’t have definitive proof, but I found your father’s heart medication ground into powder in Grace’s bathroom.”
Steve looked perplexed.
Lucy realized why the thyroid meds were also ground up. “I think she was giving him her own thyroid medicine instead of his blood pressure meds.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”
“Thyroid medicine can increase the heart rate. Since your father already had high blood pressure, if he wasn’t taking his meds and then was given something to make his heart work harder, the combination could bring on a heart attack or stroke. It’s not predictable—Grace couldn’t have known when it would happen, just that it would eventually. Then when she found out she couldn’t sell the land, she took all the money she could from your accounts. Maybe she took the money before he died, I don’t know.”
“But why?” Steve wailed, his pain and anguish evident in his voice. “My father loved her!”
Lucy had some ideas about what had motivated Grace, but didn’t want to share them now, not with Steve so volatile. She glanced at Patrick and nodded toward Steve. Patrick stepped next to him and said, “Let’s go inside. The sheriff will take over.”
As they stepped through the door, they all heard an engine start. A half minute later, the barn doors were nudged open by Patrick’s truck. Grace was at the wheel.
Beth walked into the foyer. “Close the door! You’re letting the heat out!”
Steve turned on her, pushed her back. Her eyes were wide in fear, and Steve shouted, “Did you know? Did you know your sister killed my father?”
The shock on Beth’s face was palpable. Without waiting for an answer, Steve pushed Patrick and stomped out the door, grabbing cross-country skis from the rack.
“Steve, wait for the sheriff—”
“No! She killed my dad. It all makes sense. Everything makes sense now.”
Lucy tried to stop him, but she couldn’t move fast through the snow, and Steve was on the skis before she could reach him.
“Patrick!” she called out. “The snowmobiles.”
Patrick said to Kyle, “Call the sheriff now. Give him my truck description, license plate 5K55567. Tell them Grace may be armed and dangerous. There’s only one road out of this mountain—they need to meet up with her before she hits the highway.”
“That doesn’t give them much time—twenty, maybe thirty minutes.”
“Then tell them to haul ass.”
Beth looked shell-shocked. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“We can’t explain now,” Lucy said, “but your sister is a killer. I’m sorry.”
“I thought—” she