Watcher in the Woods (Rockton #4)(99)

That sparks a memory, but it flutters past too fast to grab, and he continues, noting what I did and making notes as I dictate. I send him into the bathroom next. He barely gets through the doorway before saying, “What’s the stuff in the sink?”

“I believe it’s mushrooms.”

“What?” He leans out.

“For your notes: Detective Butler noticed specks of an unknown substance in the sink. She collected samples. She then found a bag of dried mushrooms in the medicine cabinet, which may be the source of the substance.”

“Dried mushrooms?”

“Continuing . . . She also notes that Roy has never taken any interest in the forest and seems unlikely to be a forager. He may have purchased the mushrooms. If so, and if they are a hallucinogenic—or he believes them to be—it would seem safer to have stored them with his food. His icebox and cupboards suggest he prefers cooking to purchasing ready-made food, and if the mushrooms had been stored in there, they would have appeared part of his larder.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Which does not rule out the possibility that he simply never thought of that. You are writing this down, right?”

He does as he walks into the living room.

I continue, “A second potential source of the intoxicant is a glass of wine found by the sofa. The glass was finished. The bottle in the recycling and still damp. This suggests he drank it just before his episode. Also, while he may have drained the entire demi in one sitting, it’s more likely it was left, opened, in his kitchen, where it would be susceptible to tampering.”

Dalton writes.

I continue, “There is also a word search puzzle, which he seemed to be doing while drinking his wine. He was halfway through a puzzle and then . . .” I turn the book around. The pages are ripped, shredded by a very heavily wielded pen, used to scrawl obscenities across the page.

“Tough puzzle, huh?” Dalton says.

“Evidently.”

I bag the book and head into the bedroom. Dalton follows and stays in the doorway. After I look around, I open drawers.

This time, it’s Dalton who dictates for me, with “Detective Butler notes that the suspect’s clothing is neatly folded, as she might expect from the condition of his apartment. This confirms the overall impression of a tidy housekeeper, which is at odds with the clothing discarded in the living room. It would appear, then, that whatever intoxication he suffered caused the shedding of his clothing, rather than followed it.”

“See,” I say. “You don’t need a detective.”

“Nah, I’m just a quick study. You already figured he stripped because he was out of his mind. This is just adding evidence to that conclusion.”

“True.”

I riffle through Roy’s drawers. When I open the bottom one, it gives a clunk, as if something heavy is inside, yet I see only clothing. I dig down and find . . .

“Porn,” I lift out magazines. “God, I haven’t seen these since I was a kid.”

“You read those when you were a kid?”

“I saw them at friend’s houses. As for whether I read them, I plead the fifth, though I’ll point out that I was young and curious, and the letters and articles were very . . . illuminating. These days, though, people get their porn online, which isn’t an option here.” I tuck the magazines back. “So residents can bring skin mags with them?”

“They can. We also have a collection.”

I look over at him. “What? Wait. I have gone through the entire library and never seen—”

“It’s not at the library. Isabel has them. It was her idea. Magazines and erotic novels. She curates the collection to keep out stuff she considers ‘degrading or problematic,’ as she puts it. Pretty sure I don’t want to know what that is.”

“Good call.” I lean back on my heels. “Good call on the collection, too. It provides another outlet for sexual urges. Looks like Roy has been taking full advantage of . . .”

I trail as my gaze snags on something else in the drawer. I pull out a black rectangle. It looks like a fancy necklace box. I open it to find a Swiss watch.

“A watch in a box?” Dalton says.

“A very expensive watch in a box. This baby would cost more than my first car. Hell, it probably cost more than my last car. Looks like someone missed the memo about leaving your valuables behind.” I take the watch out.

“Nice enough but . . .”

“Not Roy’s style?”

“Can you imagine him wearing it?” I ask.

“It’s a woman’s, isn’t it?”

It’s not. It’s just a more delicate style than most men’s, a sleek gold watch . . .

“I’ve seen this before,” I say.

“Up here?”

Yes. On someone who had just arrived. I’d noticed the watch and laughed to myself, thinking he definitely hadn’t fully understood where he was going. Not surprisingly, the next time I saw him, the watch was gone. He’d returned this watch to the bottom of his luggage where it would remain, until he could escape to a more civilized world.

“Can you guard the scene?” I say. “I need to speak to someone.”





FORTY

I find my target in his house. When I rap on the door, he cracks it open and narrows his eyes.