Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 74766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
And if he had a condition that required him to eat regularly, surely he would’ve said something. There was no way to know any of that until he woke up anyway, so there was no point in belaboring the fact.
She figured, though, that she’d better get started on the paperwork just in case something came of this hiccup and was right in the middle of it when Detective Branson walked in looking a little bit peeved. “We’ve got a problem!”
“What?” Our suspects pull a runner?”
“Nope!” He removed a plastic bottle of something from his pocket and placed it on her desk.
“What’s this?” Celia looked at the amber-colored liquid in confusion.
“It’s a whiskey and coke with a little something added courtesy of one of your locals.” She had no idea what he was talking about until the bells started ringing. She’d been busy the last few days with her fingers in a lot of pies, one of which was looking into Bridgette’s background.
So far, she’d learned that Niall Davis had fired the nanny not long after his wife’s funeral, and instead of heading back home to Ireland, she’d found herself a job at the local inn where she worked for room and board. At least that’s the word around town. Or more precisely, according to Lenore and Constance, her would-be informants.
“You met Bridgette.” He looked incredulous at her question.
“You know about her?”
“Not quite; why don’t you tell me what happened?” What followed was a story straight out of a poorly written B-movie. He’d left his room at the inn and gone downstairs to the bar where Bridgette was waiting tables.
Since the place wasn’t too crowded, he’d taken one of the two-seater bistro tables in a corner across from the bar with a better view of the TV where a ball game was being played. She’d struck up a conversation, which was normal enough, and even as a seasoned detective, he didn’t get any off vibes from the pretty young thing.
If he got the sense that she was feeling him out, that wasn’t too out of the norm for him; he tends to have that effect on the opposite sex. But he’s always quick to turn them down and let them know he’s already taken. Bridgette didn’t seem too pushy after her first attempts, so he didn’t think much of it.
Until he excused himself to the bathroom after she spilled his drink on his lap, he still wasn’t thinking anything of it; things happen. That is until he came back much sooner once realizing that the stain wasn’t showing on his dark slacks and it wasn’t as bad as he thought, only to see her taking something from her pocket and holding it over his new drink that she’d so graciously ordered to replace the one she’d spilled.
He didn’t say anything to her once he came back to the table, just acted like everything was fine and waited until she was busy with another customer to take the glass and its contents and leave. “I have no idea what she thinks happened after that, but around midnight someone was trying to get into my room. I had the door locked, but the person seemed to have a key; what they didn’t expect was the deadlock on the door. I’m pretty sure it was her. What’s going on?”
“Where do I begin?” So much for peace and quiet in a small town, Celia thought as she thought of the best way to describe what she was beginning to suspect about their wayward nanny.
CHAPTER 11
Celia had just finished talking to Detective Branson when the phone rang. It was the hospital calling with the news that Ryan had awakened. When asked for a prognosis, she was told that they were still running some tests. She hung up with a promise to be there soon and turned her attention back to Detective Branson, who had stood to leave.
“So, what are we going to do about this? I didn’t drink any of it, and at this point, it’s my word against hers, and cop or not, you know how that can go.” They both looked at the offensive liquid with distaste. If it was what they suspected, the implications were foul. No matter who’s on the receiving end, male or female, this kind of thing is just pure evil. What’s even worse is that Celia was beginning to suspect that she had a serial offender on her hands.
“That’s not entirely true; I had Gil and Robert blood tested, so if it comes back to the same thing, we have precedent. And of course, attempting to drug a law enforcement official is going to put a whole new face on things.” She picked up the bottle of liquid he’d brought, “I’ll get this to the lab, then I have to head to the hospital to check up on…”