“Let’s hope he hasn’t run too far. We need him to fill in a lot of holes.”
Just as King was about to call Williams, the police chief called him. King told him what Sally had disclosed to him the night before, as well as his suspicions of Roger Canney and the man’s flight. Williams arranged for the APB and then asked them to meet him at the Battles’. He refused to say why or answer their questions about Sally.
King slumped back in his seat with a hopeless expression. She’s dead.
Chapter 72
When they arrived at the Battles’, Williams and Chip Bailey led King and Michelle to the stables. On the way Williams broke the news about Sally and what had happened to Eddie. King turned pale and put a hand against a section of fencing. Michelle wedged her good arm up under his.
“Just take it easy. We don’t need you going down too.”
“The knife used to kill Sally was taken right off the Peg-Board inside the stables and was dropped at the crime scene,” Bailey told them. “Same thing with the rake. Sylvia just left, but she said death would have been pretty fast.”
“Can we see the body?” asked King.
“It’s not pretty, Sean. If I were you, I wouldn’t,” replied Williams.
“I need to,” said King firmly.
Williams reluctantly led them inside and over to Sally’s corpse.
“My God,” said Michelle.
“It was like the killer was furious at her about something,” said Williams. “Just kept on beating her in the head.” He looked at King. “Maybe Sally knew more than she was telling.”
“Maybe,” said King slowly as he pulled his gaze away. He stood solemnly outside the stables and watched as Sally’s body was carried out in a black pouch.
As the doors on the ambulance clunked shut, he turned to Williams. “This was my fault. I forced her to tell me the truth and never even thought she might be in danger because of it.”
“You were fighting for your life, Sean,” countered Williams. “You didn’t really have an opportunity to think about anything else.”
“How’s Eddie doing?” asked Michelle.
Bailey answered, “I just called the hospital. They said he’s still unconscious but out of danger.”
“Do they know what it was yet?”
“No. I was going to drop by the hospital later, if you want to come along. Right now I intend to talk to Dorothea again. And after that, Savannah, although I hear she’s a wreck.”
As they walked along, Williams turned to King. “If this thing pans out on Canney, I’m going to owe you one. I never would have picked up on that.”
“That’s just one piece of the puzzle, Todd,” replied King.
Dorothea met them at her house. She looked pale and drawn. While Williams, King and Michelle offered words of commiseration, Chip Bailey volunteered no such niceties. He looked at her with a mixture of anger and determination. They stepped around the muddied sections of the entryway and went to the living room.
“What time did you and Eddie go to bed?” asked Williams.
“About half past midnight. He’d been out in his studio working. But we didn’t go to sleep then. Not until about an hour later.” She smiled in an embarrassed fashion. “I didn’t think that possibly being implicated in a murder could do so much for one’s sex life. But Eddie’s been wonderful throughout this ordeal.”
“A good man is hard to find in times of trouble,” said Michelle tightly.
“I’m starting to realize that,” she answered with surprising sincerity.
Bailey broke in. “He was drugged, Dorothea. I’ve talked to the doctors at the hospital, and they said he’s under the influence of some powerful narcotic.”
She suddenly looked frightened. “That’s what I can’t understand. I… I have to tell you that when Savannah started banging on our door, I woke up in a total fog. I still don’t feel quite all together.”
Bailey looked at her suspiciously and said, “You didn’t mention anything like that when we came by this morning.”
Dorothea spoke quickly. “Everything was happening so fast. Savannah was a mess, Sally was dead and I couldn’t wake Eddie. God, it was all like a nightmare.”
“What time did Savannah come to your door?” asked Bailey.
“A little past eight. I remember looking at the clock in the foyer.”
“What did Eddie have to eat or drink last night?”
“We had dinner, nothing unusual. Some wine after dinner, and then he went to his studio to paint and I did some paperwork in my home office.”
“Can we see the leftovers from the meal and the bottle of wine?” asked Bailey.
“There weren’t any leftovers. I think the bottle of wine is around here somewhere.”
“I’d appreciate if you could show me where it is before I leave,” said Bailey.
Her features became defiant. “What exactly are you trying to prove?”
He eyed her coolly. “Somehow Eddie was slipped something last night that knocked him out so completely he’s still not fully recovered. It had to be administered somehow.”
“Well, I have no idea how it was done,” she said hotly.
“That’s okay, it’s my job to figure that out,” said Bailey. “The drugs you bought from Kyle: do you have any of them here?”
“I… I’m not sure. I can look.”
“No. I tell you what I’m going to do: I’m going to have your home searched. Do you have a problem with that?”
Dorothea rose on unsteady legs. “I think I should speak to my attorney first.”
Bailey stood too. “Fine, you do that. Meantime I’ll get a search warrant issued. I’m posting one of my agents outside the house just in case something important decides to walk out. And we can check drains, and you’re on septic here, so any evidence that happens to get flushed we can find.”
“Your insinuations are ridiculous,” she cried. “I didn’t kill Sally or drug my husband.”
“Too bad for you we don’t have a final cause of death on Kyle Montgomery. If we did, you might be in jail right now. That would’ve been a nice alibi for you.”
Bailey walked out while Dorothea looked at King pitifully. “Sean, what is going on?” He dashed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. He eased her onto the couch.
He turned to Michelle. “Get me some water.”
Michelle rushed off and King looked back at Dorothea. She gripped his arm.
“God, I feel so bad. My head is splitting and my stomach’s doing flip-flops.”
“I’m going to have Mason come and look after you.”
She clenched his arm even more tightly. “I didn’t do anything, Sean. You have to believe that.”
Michelle came back in with the water, and Dorothea drank it down.
“You do believe me, don’t you?” she said pleadingly.
“Let me put it this way: I believe you as much as I believe anyone right now.”
As King, Michelle and Williams left, they spotted Bailey talking to one of his men and pointing at the house. They walked over to him.
“You sure didn’t cut Dorothea any slack, Chip,” said Williams.
“I wasn’t aware she deserved any,” shot back the FBI agent.
“It’s been a pretty traumatic morning for her, actually the last few days.”
“If all of it’s her own doing, why should I feel sorry for the woman?”
“You think she drugged her husband, then slipped out and killed Sally?” asked King.
“I think it’s entirely possible she drugged Eddie and that someone else killed Sally while Eddie was unconscious. The stables are close enough to the carriage house that if there was a fight or Sally was able to scream, Eddie might have heard and come to her rescue. With him drugged that couldn’t happen.”
“And whom do you think Dorothea was partnered with in all this?”