Cuff Me(88)

She was extra glad she hadn’t called him now. Vin would never have mocked her for being wrong—but it would have been embarrassing all the same.

“I’m surprised to see you,” Dorothy called from the kitchen. “I was under the impression the police had closed the case.”

“We’ve had to expand our focus to other things,” Jill called back, fiddling with a fussy flower arrangement on the table. It made her think of the flowers Vin had bought her, and she stopped. “But all of us wish we could get a break.”

Dorothy emerged from the kitchen, holding the tray with the easy walk of someone much younger.

“And have you gotten a break? Is that why you’re here?”

Jill took a breath. “I… I don’t know. But I was doing some reading today and wanted to get your opinion on something.”

“Of course,” Dorothy said. “Sugar, if I remember correctly?”

Jill nodded, smiling in thanks as Dorothy dropped in a sugar cube and handed Jill the delicate teacup.

Jill used the adorably tiny spoon to dissolve the sugar cube as she considered her next approach.

“Where’s that handsome partner of yours?” Dorothy asked.

Jill took a sip of tea and tried to hide her wince, wondering if it would be inappropriate to ask for another sugar cube. One definitely wasn’t enough to cut the bitterness.

“Working another case,” Jill replied.

It was a risky move. If she at all thought Dorothy a suspect, she should have told her Vincent was on the way. Hell, that the whole NYPD was on the way.

But then she’d run the risk of Dorothy feeling threatened. And if she did know something… if she’d done something… Jill needed the other woman relaxed.

She took another sip of tea, bigger this time, hoping that if she drank this one fast enough, it would be easier to ask for extra sugar in the next round.

“Ms. Birch—”

“Dorothy.”

Jill smiled. “Dorothy. I was going through old articles today—hoping to uncover an old feud we may have missed before, and I came across something curious.”

“More tea?”

“Oh—sure,” Jill said, holding out her cup. “And an extra sugar cube wouldn’t go amiss. I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

Dorothy laughed. “Me too, dear. Me too.”

Jill noticed the other woman’s hands shaking a bit as they took Jill’s cup, and she looked away, wanting to spare the other woman the indignity that old age sometimes had on the joints.

“You and Lenora were from Torrence, Ohio?”

“Yes, that’s right. Just about the tiniest town you can imagine. One butcher, one salon, one market… that sort of place.”

“It sounds lovely,” Jill said with a smile.

“It had its charms,” Dorothy said, handing Jill’s cup to her. Her hands were steadier now. “But both Lenora and I found we preferred the big city. So much energy here.”

Jill nodded and took a sip of tea. Better. Much better. Honestly, why did people pretend that bitter tasted good? Coffee tasted better with sugar. Chocolate tasted better with sugar. Tea definitely tasted better with sugar.

“Ms. Birch—Dorothy—did you know a Bill Shapiro back in your hometown?”

Dorothy tilted her head. “I suppose it sounds familiar, but goodness, it’s been a long time. You have to remember, Lenora and I left Ohio for Los Angeles when I was only seventeen.”

It was exactly the opening Jill needed. A way for her to close out this lead without ruffling feathers if she was wrong.

“Because you both wanted to get into acting?”

There was the tiniest of pauses. “Yes. We used to talk about it all the time.”

Jill nodded. Then nodded again. For some reason her thoughts felt fuzzy. As though they were coming from the very, very back of her head.

She took another sip of her tea and forced herself to concentrate. “You both auditioned for the role of Cora Mulroney, is that right?”

Dorothy’s face had gone a bit taut. At least it seemed that way through Jill’s blurry vision.

Wait… why was her vision blurry?

“Yes, that’s right,” Dorothy was saying.

“And you…” Jill’s teacup rattled to the table as she pressed a hand to her now-spinning head. “You… Bill Shapiro wrote an article—”

Why couldn’t she keep any of this straight?

“I used to have a golden Lab,” Dorothy said.

A golden Lab? Like a dog? Why were they talking about a dog? Jill struggled to keep up, but couldn’t. Thinking felt hard. Like after too much tequila.

“Jensen was his name. The sweetest dog you can imagine. But… he got old. I suppose we all do. They found cancer. Slow-growing, so I didn’t put him down right away, but toward the end he started to hurt a little, and I wasn’t ready to say good-bye.”

Jill tried to make a noise. Tried to think. She couldn’t. She felt herself slump back against the couch and fixed her eyes on Dorothy, trying to put the pieces together.

“They gave me some medication for him. Sedatives, to help him sleep. To make him comfortable.”

Sedatives.

That’s why she was foggy.

Dorothy Birch had drugged her with dog medicine. It was so unbelievably inglorious that Jill wanted to rage, except that would take energy she didn’t have.