The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(66)

“And?”

“I should have seen it earlier,” Slater said. “In fact, I think I did see it earlier, in a dream that I had on the way here. But I was too exhausted to pay attention to what my intuition was trying to tell me.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked at her. The whispers got louder.

“Drugs,” he said.

“What about them?”

“They keep showing up in this case. Specifically high-tech drugs, the kind that come out of a sophisticated lab. We need to focus on them. They are the key to identifying the person who is behind everything that has happened.”





CHAPTER 29


Catalina sat down on the stool next to him and watched him page through the sketchbook. She could feel the hot energy in the atmosphere around him and recognized the sensation. She had experienced it herself on a few occasions. Slater was a hunter closing in on prey.

“Tell me where you’re going with this new theory of yours,” she said.

“Exotic drugs have been involved from the start,” he said. “Someone supplied the killer with whatever was in that syringe that was used to murder Morrissey.”

“Right. But so what? There are any number of drugs that can kill a person.”

“Yes, but it’s not a typical method of committing murder. Most killers go with the tried-and-true options: A gun. A knife. A blunt object. Why fool around with some exotic drug unless you’re afraid the body might be found? But in this case whoever murdered Morrissey didn’t seem to be worried about that. He planned all along to dump the body in the river.”

“Maybe the killer had a medical background and felt comfortable using some toxic drug.”

“Or else he had connections to the illicit drug– dealing business. Needles are often used to inject dangerous substances.”

“Huh,” Catalina said. “Now fifteen years later it looks like Ingram and Royston were murdered with drugs, and Olivia is kidnapped and also injected with some unknown drug—presumably not a lethal one, because whoever grabbed her wanted her alive.”

“Then you and I start to investigate and we are attacked with a gas that causes violent hallucinations. But it isn’t lethal, either.”

“Because they didn’t want to kill me. They wanted to take me alive.”

“Tonight we find out that one of the triplets from hell did time for selling drugs,” Slater continued. “Not just the standard street shit. Designer drugs.”

A feverish chill crackled across Catalina’s senses. It came straight from her nightmares. You don’t want to go back there. That way lies madness. You will throw yourself into the lake and drown.

She met Slater’s eyes. “You’re going with the theory that the many drug connections in this case are not a coincidence.”

“I’m not big on coincidences, but even if I was okay with that possibility, there is another factor that has to be taken into account.”

“I’m listening.”

“Whatever was in that fog the kidnappers used on us in Royston’s cellar did not simply knock us out,” Slater said. “It played havoc with our paranormal senses.”

“There are a lot of drugs that can produce hallucinations. LSD, for example. There must be dozens more.”

“Yes, but weaponizing them, making them into a potent gas that can swamp the senses of a couple of strong talents in a matter of seconds, isn’t that simple. It would take the skill set of an experienced individual with a sophisticated lab and a working knowledge of how various drugs affect people with talent.”

You don’t want to go back there.

Catalina sat quietly for a moment, processing what Slater had just said.

“My turn to get hit with a blinding flash of the obvious,” she said. “Maybe.”

“What?”

“If the appearance of drugs is not a coincidence in this case, if you’re on the right track here, then we shouldn’t overlook the one other time they showed up.”

“When was that?”

“Back at the start,” Catalina said.

She told him about the possibility that had just occurred to her. When she was finished, Slater nodded, satisfied.

“That fits,” he said. “And your theory has one other thing going for it. I knew there had to be a local connection. This is it.”





CHAPTER 30


I consider myself a naturally suspicious person,” Catalina said. “I’m an investigator, after all. But I have to tell you that until you insisted that the accomplice had to be local and that there was a high probability of a drug connection, Nyla Trevelyan would not have been at the top of my list of suspects. I mean, she’s the local healer. A lot of people in this town are very grateful for her skills.”

They were standing outside Nyla Trevelyan’s small vine-covered cottage. Fog cloaked the scene, but it was possible to make out the small SUV that Nyla used to transport her homeopathic medicines and herbal tonics to craft fairs. The only electric light was the one that glowed above the door on the front porch. It illuminated the pots of thriving herbs and the spectacular ferns that crammed the space and bordered the steps.

But electricity wasn’t the only source of illumination around the cottage. The lush gardens sparkled faintly with what looked like I fairy lights. Nyla had planted several varieties of the local foliage that gave off a faint glow after dark.