When the Bough Breaks (Rose Gardner Investigations #6) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,34
back up by yourself?”
I hated to admit it, but he had a point. Still, I wasn’t going to saddle Bruce Wayne with this. It made me wish that I’d brought Neely Kate, but then I remembered she was doing something much more important, which brought back the reality that Ashley and Mikey were missing.
“Uh…” I said, giving myself a moment to recover from the wave of fear. “I hate to ask this, Stewart… I can get down to get the sample, but I’m going to need help getting back up.”
“I really hate to ask you to do it at all,” he said, looking worried.
“No, really,” I said. “I get down all the time to take care of my dog, but I usually have a piece of furniture to grab.”
“I don’t mind helping,” he said, “but it feels wrong to have you do it at all.”
After I assured him again that I didn’t mind collecting the samples, I got the kits out from under the passenger seat, grabbed my bottle of hand sanitizer, and headed back to the dead azaleas. It didn’t take me long to gather soil from the bases of two of the bushes, and when I was finished, Stewart offered me a hand to help me up. An offer he likely regretted given I nearly pulled him over on top of me and covered his hand in dirt.
“I’m so sorry.” Then I cringed. “I hate to ask any more from you, but can I use your restroom?”
He released me and looked at his dirty palm. “Of course. You’ll want to wash your hands.”
It was more that I had to pee, but I’d use that excuse. Stewart opened one of the double glass front doors, and I headed toward the restrooms.
I went into a stall, tucking the sample bags under my arm as I sat on the toilet. As I was finishing up, the door opened and I heard a woman’s hushed voice urgently say, “I told you not to call me at work.”
I sat still even though my legs had already started going to sleep from sitting on the toilet for less than a minute.
“I don’t care!” she said insistently. “The same thing’s gonna happen to us if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” She released a little whimper. “Mark.”
My breath caught. Was this Calista?
After several seconds of silence, she said, “I’ll meet you after work, but don’t call me again. Text.”
I heard retreating footsteps. Then the door opened and closed.
Calista knew something about Mark Erickson’s murder.
And I was going to find out what.
Chapter 9
I hurried out of the stall and washed my hands, frustrated that Calista had a head start on me. It would have been helpful to know what she looked like.
When I left the bathroom, I took my time walking to the front exit, scanning the desks in the main part of the office. There were six of them, four men and two women. One of the women was older and deep in conversation with the man at the desk next to her. I ruled her out as soon as I heard their conversation. The other woman was younger and kept her gaze on her computer screen.
I headed toward her desk, deciding I’d ask her if she could loan me a pen to add something to the sample tubes. Although it wasn’t the best excuse, she’d almost certainly say something in return—I’d hear her voice, which would tell me if she was the woman I’d overheard.
“Excuse me,” I said as I approached, but she jumped as though I’d snuck up on her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She placed her hand on her chest and gave me a confused look. “Are you here to see Stewart?”
My hunch was right. This had to be Calista.
“I already talked to him,” I said, “but I was wondering if you have a pen I can borrow so I can add something to my soil sample tubes.”
Her gaze dropped to the bags under my arm. “Soil sample?”
“I’m trying to figure out why the bushes are dyin’.”
She gave me a look that suggested she thought I was annoying, then handed me a pen.
I took it and pulled out one of the tubes, trying to figure what I could possibly write that wouldn’t mess up the test given I’d already filled out the label, but it soon became obvious it wouldn’t matter—she’d already turned back to her computer. I pretended to write something on it, wondering if I should try