“The more I think about it, the more I feel that Luke should turn himself in. After all, what happened was an accident.”
“Was it? An accident committed by a poor musician who just happens to be a rich guy’s son,” Will pointed out.
“In that case, Luke got the order of things all wrong,” Sunny said. “He didn’t reveal himself to Gardner, didn’t get the will changed . . .”
“There are plenty of ways to contest a will. Besides, maybe he did reveal himself to Gardner, who wasn’t happy about it,” Will challenged, going into full cop mode. “Daconto’s suddenly got some pretty strong motives.”
“Aren’t you jumping the gun? We haven’t even tested the stuff in the bottle. We don’t even know what killed Gardner.”
“Thanks to Alfred having him cremated.” Will scowled.
“As for the scenario you’re suggesting, there’s one big problem—again,” Sunny argued. “Would Gardner have accepted a drink from Luke if he’d rejected him? The way Ollie described the whispered conversation he overheard, it sounded cordial, not like someone having poison forced down his throat.”
“You’re cutting this Luke guy a lot of slack because you like him,” Will complained. “Somebody died here, after all.”
“I’m not saying we should keep quiet while Luke makes a quick getaway out of town,” Sunny shot back. Then she added in a small voice, “I did give him Tobe Phillips’s number, though.”
“Oh, great,” Will burst out. “You think Daconto is guilty, but you hook him up with the best criminal lawyer we know?”
“If the stuff is deadly, then Luke made a mistake, which he’ll have to pay for,” Sunny replied. “That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have good legal advice.”
Will fumed for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “We’ll need a secure place to keep that bottle until we turn it in. I nominate my gun safe. Have you talked to Tobe yet?”
Sunny shook her head.
“Well, we should do that, too, get everything set up. Any other details you want to mention?”
“Just one,” Sunny told him. “My jacket and cell phone are still in your truck.”
*
Sunny got up the next morning at the crack of dawn, yawning. She’d spent a lot of time on the phone before she could get to bed, talking with Tobe Phillips about his new client, Luke Daconto. The plan was to bring Luke to the Sheriff’s Department that morning.
Sunny woke herself up under the shower, then made toast and coffee. Mike was asleep, and she decided not to wake him. She poured dry food into Shadow’s bowl, figuring that would bring him into the open, but the cat hadn’t shown. Then she spotted him trying to hide behind the kitchen doorjamb, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Oh, come on in,” she told him. “No strangers, no weird smells. Just me, trying to get out of here.” She met him as he advanced with cautious steps, ran her fingers though his fur, and then stood up. “Be a good cat,” she whispered to him as she hurried down the hallway, trying not to clomp and awaken her father, “and don’t drive Dad crazy.”
She got outside just as Will pulled up in his pickup. The ride up north went by without conversation. Will had the news channel on the radio, and they listened for any breaking news bulletins about murders at nursing homes.
They arrived at Bridgewater Hall when most of the residents were still asleep. In fact, in Room 114, Ollie’s roommate lay flat on his back, snoring loudly. Ollie, however, was awake. He gave them a bleary-eyed glower. “I guess this must be something big,” he muttered.
His eyes got progressively wider as Sunny and Will described the events of the previous night. “Luke is a nice kid,” Ollie said when they finished. “Okay, maybe he’s a bit of a goof-up. Look what happened when he tried to open that bag of chips for me.” Unconsciously, his hands made brushing motions on his chest. “But this is the last thing I’d expect to hear about him.” He frowned, figuring angles. “So what’s the next move?”
“In an hour, Luke and his lawyer will be coming here,” Sunny said. “I figure that will give you time to get washed, shaved, and dressed, not to mention arranging a meeting with Dr. Reese.”
Will glanced over at the snoring Mr. Vernon. “And maybe they can get Sleeping Beauty out of the way.”
By the time Luke and Tobe arrived at Room 114, a somewhat surprised Vernon had been woken, then wheeled off to rather early therapy. After Vernon was gone, Luke entered the room hesitantly, followed by his lawyer.
Ollie offered his hand. “This is a hell of a thing, Luke.”
Luke’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know how it could happen. I’ve made remedies out of that book for years.”
Sunny remembered the salve he’d given her. The skin on the back of her hand was as good as new, with no trace of scratches or scarring.
At last Dr. Reese arrived, with Dr. Gavrik at his heels. “I hope we can make this quick, Mr. Barnstable. I have a lot of meetings this morning.”
“You may have to cancel them,” Ollie replied. He turned to Luke Daconto. “Luke, you have the floor.” Luke stumbled a little as he began, but he managed to get clearly enough through his explanation of what happened the night Gardner Scatterwell had died.
Explanation, Sunny thought as she listened to the halting story, or confession?
For a long moment, silence filled the room when Luke concluded, until Tobe Phillips spoke up. “There’s a definite possibility that due to a mistake in preparing the tonic, Mr. Gardner ingested a heavy dose of aconite.”
“Aconite is toxic,” Reese said slowly. “You’re saying that Mr. Daconto precipitated the whole episode?”
Dr. Gavrik was less diplomatic. “This untrained idiot played at making medicine, administered it without approval, and killed my patient!” She stormed over to Luke, who shrank back. “You fool! You stupid, damned fool!”
Then Gavrik turned on Reese. “I have argued and argued about hiring useless people to make the patients feel better instead of devoting our resources to medicine. Now you see what happens—not only are they useless, they can be dangerous—fatal, even.”
She obviously had more to say but bit back her words. Her sharp features tightened, almost clenched, from the effort of keeping them in.
Tobe’s handsome face looked disapprovingly at Dr. Gavrik and Dr. Reese as he spoke up. “We came here this morning as a courtesy.” He gave the word a slight emphasis and then went on. “Mr. Daconto will now go to the sheriff’s office, surrender himself, and make a full statement.”
“Oh, yes,” Gavrik sneered. “He’ll tell everyone how he did wrong, and how he’s very sorry, and they’ll feel sorry, too, and tell him he’s a naughty boy—and do almost nothing!”
She spit the last words out, stepping past Tobe to Luke again. “You practiced medicine without a license, without any training, without any sort of knowledge even, you made a stupid mistake, and now a man is dead. You should be tried for murder.” Luke flinched, but he still faced the woman.
“I didn’t mean him any harm,” he said in a tight voice. “He was my father.”
“What?” Reese said.
“Gardner was my father.” Luke cleared his throat. “When I came here, I was trying to find out who that was, and I did. I’ve got the proof at home. He met my mother years ago in a commune in California. He was on a road trip.” He paused. “Maybe you remember that.”
Reese stared at Luke as if he’d never seen him before. “And you’re his son?”
Luke nodded. “Yes, sir. He kept telling me that his nerves were eating him up ever since the stroke, and I knew my mom had used this tonic to help people. So I gave him a couple of doses. I tried . . .” He hung his head. “And I made a big mistake. I have to take responsibility for that, whatever the law thinks is fair.”