Lemon Pies and Little White Lies by Ellery Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

I’m not sure exactly how carbon monoxide poisoning effects people’s behavior.”
    Taking out a notebook, Officer Wallace led them into the kitchen and invited them to sit.
    “I know a bit about the symptoms,” she said. “A person can start off with a headache or dizziness. Next, they feel nauseated. If the exposure continues, they become weak and confused, have blurred vision, and finally lose consciousness.”
    Ella Mae gestured at the teapot and glanced at Reba. “Maybe that’s why Mrs. Mercer never made her tea. She no longer felt like eating or drinking.”
    “But why soak in the tub?” Reba asked. “Why not just curl up in bed?”
    “If she was feeling foggy, maybe she thought a bath would clear her head,” Ella Mae said. “If she felt dizzy, she wouldn’t risk standing in the shower, so it would make sense that she’d take a bath instead.”
    Officer Wallace interrupted their speculations by having them recount their movements from the time they arrived at the house. While they were relaying their statements, an ambulance pulled in behind the police cruiser. Two EMTs jumped out and pushed a gurney to the base of the front steps.
    Leaving Ella Mae and Reba in the kitchen, Wallace led the men to the bathroom. A short while later, the body of Joyce Mercer, covered by a damp white sheet and strapped securely to the gurney, was wheeled out of the house.
    “Poor thing,” Ella Mae said.
    Officer Hardy, who’d been holding the door open for the EMTs, turned to her. “Did you know Mrs. Mercer?”
    “No, but I feel terribly sorry for her family. This could have been avoided, right?”
    Hardy nodded. “The vent was closed tight, leaving no place for the gas to go but into the room. Modern gas logs have an oxygen sensor and will cut off if there isn’t enough oxygen, but these logs were made before the sensors became a requirement. There’s a warning label near the power switch cautioning not to use the logs for more than four hours, but it’s partially covered in soot and the print is quite small. It’s likely Mrs. Mercer never saw the warning.”
    “It was probably chilly in the sunroom early this morning,” Ella Mae said. “If Mrs. Mercer was reading therebefore breakfast, she could have been breathing carbon monoxide for hours.”
    Hardy jerked his head toward the bathroom. “I found preloaded insulin pens inside Mrs. Mercer’s medicine kit. The EMTs believe she may have suffered a diabetic seizure while in the bathtub. It was probably that, or the carbon monoxide poisoning, that led to her drowning. We won’t know until the ME sees her, but it appears that Mrs. Mercer’s death was an unfortunate accident.” He looked grim. “I have to inform her family as soon as I locate them.”
    Ella Mae couldn’t imagine how difficult that conversation would be. She’d been involved in Hardy’s investigations before, both voluntarily and involuntarily, and she held him in high esteem. He was a dogged police officer and a good man, and even though she’d been under suspicion of murder when they’d first met, he’d never failed to treat her with fairness and respect.
    “This might sound silly, but if her family lives in town, would you give them the pie I made for Mrs. Drever? It was meant to be a gesture of comfort,” she added when he gave her a curious look. “I thought Mrs. Drever might need it because an enormous storm is about to hit her hometown in Scotland. Her daughter still lives there, though I hope she evacuated days ago.”
    “I saw the storm footage earlier today,” Hardy said. “A nasty beast. Reminds me of Hurricane Sandy. I have cousins in New Jersey who lost everything because of flooding. They could have used one of your special pies.” He took the pie from her and wished her a good evening.
    The ambulance drove away, and Ella Mae and Reba followed shortly afterward.
    “Where to now?” Reba asked as they headed back down the mountain.
    “Canine to Five,” Ella Mae said.