Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined (11 page)

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m used to sitting here in my recliner.”

“Good!” he replied, rising.  He moved over to the window and
looked out while he pulled out a cell phone and quickly called a number.  Essie
couldn’t hear his whispered conversation, but she did gather that he was
attempting to convey some urgency.  Every so often, Magee would turn and look
at her, sitting, she imagined rather forlornly, in her chair.  Then he turned
back and responded to the voice on the phone.  She caught several words—strange
powder, unknown sender, fine, white—were some that she recognized.   Finally,
Magee finished the call and returned to Essie.  He sat cautiously on the edge
of the sofa next to her.

“Miss Cobb,” he began.

“Call me Essie,” Essie said.

“Essie,” he said.  “Can you tell me about this powder?  Do
you know who sent it?”

“I got it in the mail yesterday,” she explained.  “It was in
this beautiful valentine from a secret admirer.”  She pointed to the card on
the end table between her and the policeman.  He reached over cautiously and
picked up the card, his hands still wearing the rubber gloves. 

“Wow!” he said with a whistle.  “This is some fancy card!”

“I know,” said Essie.  “I was flattered, but mystified.  I
tried to figure out who might have sent it but I couldn’t.  My friends all
tried to help me figure it out but we simply haven’t been able to.  My
granddaughter is a graphic designer and she thought that the card was made by
the person who sent it; she said she didn’t think anyone had bought it in a
store.” Essie explained to the officer how Mindy had convinced her that the
card had been created just for her.  “Oh, no!  Now I’ve put my granddaughter’s
health and safety in jeopardy by letting her touch this card!”  She felt a wave
of anguish shake her entire body and her hands flew to her face before she had
even considered the consequences.

“Essie,” Magee said quickly, “please don’t touch your face! 
Let’s wait and see what our lab finds out about that powder first, okay?”

Essie quickly dropped her hands back to her lap. 

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sobbing.  “I’ve shown this card
all over Happy Haven.  If it’s poisonous, I’ve exposed everyone here!”

“Now, let’s not jump the gun,” said Magee.  “We don’t know
it’s poison yet.  We’re just being cautious.”

“But what else could it be?” she cried, as several more
tears dripped down her face.  She used her shoulder to rub them away.

“You know, Essie,” he confided, “this isn’t the first
mysterious substance case I’ve seen.”

“It isn’t?” she asked.

“Nope,” replied the young officer with an expressive smile. 
“Last year, Chavez and I got called out to a house where a young mother found
her toddler had gotten outside and had wandered back into the house covered
with a blue liquid.”

“Oh, no!” cried Essie, now more concerned for a baby she
didn’t even know than herself.

“Yep,” he said, shaking his head.  “We thought he might have
accidentally gotten into some weed killer in the garage.  The mother didn’t
know where he’d gone.  We had to scoop some of that substance off the kid and
have it analyzed in the lab.  We would have taken the kid to the hospital, but
he wasn’t showing any adverse symptoms.  Luckily, the blue stuff turned out to
be some weird flower they had in their garden.  The kid decided to eat several
of the blossoms.  It was totally harmless, just messy.  But I tell you, that
mother was worried sick.  And, boy, did she feel guilty.”

“She should have.  She let her baby run away and didn’t know
where he’d gone!” exclaimed Essie.

“Kids are quick!” said Magee, smiling.  “I know; I’ve got
one of my own.”

“Oh, you’re married?” asked Essie.

“For about two years now,” replied Magee.  “We have a son
who just turned one.  He’s into everything.  You really need eyes in the back
of your head to keep track of them.”

“Oh, I know!  I raised three myself!” said Essie.

“And they survived, right?” asked Magee.

“So far,” said Essie, now looking down again at her lap and
the small streams of white.

Magee quickly turned the topic of conversation in a
different direction.  He asked Essie about herself and her time living at Happy
Haven and she was happy to have the distraction. After quite a while, she had
calmed somewhat.  Soon, there was a knock on the door and Officer Chavez popped
her head inside.

“Hey, Chavez,” said Magee from the sofa.  “You’re back!” 

Chavez entered, followed by a man in a long overcoat and
hat.  Chavez remained by the door, her police jacket still on.  The tall man
moved over to Magee.

“Detective,” said Magee, standing.  “This is Miss Cobb,
Detective.  Essie, this is Detective Abbott.”  Having made the appropriate
introductions, Magee stepped out of the way, and wandered over to the window
where his partner was waiting.

“Miss Cobb,” said Abbott, “we’ve just received the report
from our lab on your mystery substance here.”  He looked down at Essie’s lap
quizzically.  “Happy to report, there’s no poison.  None at all!”

Essie felt a gigantic rush of relief course through her
body.  Not only was she safe, but her friends at Happy Haven and her
granddaughter and any other person who may have been exposed were also safe. 

“Oh, my!” she cried.  “I’m so relieved!  Thank you,
Detective!”

“You’re welcome, Miss Cobb,” replied the detective.  “We
take tampering with the U.S. mail very seriously.  And we certainly don’t like
the idea of anyone taking advantage of our senior citizens—such as yourself.”

“You really did that quickly!” said Essie.

“We’ve got a good lab,” he said.

“I guess I can just brush this stuff off of my lap then,”
she said.  “I’ve been a virtual prisoner of my chair since I spilled it.”  She
bent forward as she started to get up and out of her recliner.

“Um, just a minute, Miss Cobb,” said the detective, holding
up a hand.  “Not so fast.”

“What?” she asked, freezing in place.

“It’s true the lab tested the powder and cleared it as any
type of poisonous substance.   But that’s not the end of it.”

Magee and Chavez looked intently at Abbott as he spoke. 
They both moved closer.  Essie was riveted in her recliner as the big man with
the thick brown hair suddenly became the focus of attention in Essie’s small
apartment.

“The lab discovered something else about this substance of
yours,” said Abbott, staring at Essie.

“They did?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said.  “Luckily, the lab is very thorough in its
testing.  They not only checked this substance to be certain that it wasn’t
poison.  They also checked to determine what it was.”

“And what is it?” asked Essie, totally mystified.

“Cocaine,” replied Abbott. 

The room was silent.  Chavez and Magee exchanged glances. 
Essie felt as if she had been slapped in the face.

“What?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said, towering over her.  “High grade cocaine,
ready for distribution.  This small amount in your little heart here would
probably reap about $5,000 for a dealer on the open market.  Not a fortune, but
this stuff isn’t just beach sand either.”

“I don’t understand,” said Essie.  “Why would anyone send me
$5,000 worth of cocaine?  I don’t use drugs.  I don’t know anyone who uses
drugs.  Except, of course, those that are approved by Medicare.”

“That’s definitely something we intend to find out,” said
Abbott.  “That card you say this stuff was in?  Where is it?  Do you have the
envelope it came in?”

Essie picked up the card and envelope and handed them to the
detective. 

“Chavez,” he said, holding the card and envelope by the
edges.  Chavez came over with another plastic evidence bag and Abbott dropped
the card and envelope into it.  “Get this to the lab.”  Chavez headed out with
a nod.

“One thing, Miss Cobb,” Abbott said when Chavez had
disappeared.  “You don’t need to sit like a statue in that chair anymore.  Why
don’t we get you out of there?”

“Yes, Essie,” added Magee, coming over.  “You can stand up
and we can have you shake off the powder on your lap.”

“Just how much is the stuff on my lap worth, do you think?”
she asked as they helped her get out of her chair.

“Couple hundred bucks, probably,” replied Abbott.  The two
men cautiously helped Essie shake her clothes and stretch her legs.

“Well, that was an expensive spill, wasn’t it?” she sighed.

Chapter Fourteen

“It is impossible to love and to be
wise.”

—Francis Bacon

After Essie had stretched her legs a bit, Detective Abbott
took off his overcoat and laid it carefully over the back of one of Essie’s
armchairs.  He motioned to Magee to stand by the door.

“Miss Cobb,” Abbott said, as he sat down on the sofa and
bent in towards Essie.  “We have some questions for you.”

“But Detective,” she replied, bewildered, “I don’t know
anything about cocaine.  I had no idea that was an illegal drug in my heart.  I
just assumed it was some sort of stuffing to give the little heart some shape. 
And when I actually saw the powder, the first thing I thought of was that
anthrax scare from years ago when that maniac sent that poison through the
mail.  That’s why I phoned 911.”

“You did exactly the right thing,” said Abbott, in an
assuring tone.  “There was no reason for you to suspect drugs.  Actually, we’re
rather surprised to find it, but it does create a new problem.  As you can
imagine, the government frowns on people sending illegal drugs through the
United States mail.  When we discover such a substance being sent this way, we
are obviously anxious to find out who sent it.  We’re also interested in
finding out the identity of the intended recipient.  Obviously, it wasn’t you. 
You were a ploy.”

“What do you mean?” asked Essie, puzzled.

“I mean, you were never the intended recipient of this
valentine,” replied Abbott, his intense brown eyes unwavering as he looked at
Essie.

“But it was sent to me!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” he said.  “But you were not really meant to receive
it.  At least, that’s what we think.”

“How could that be, Detective?” she asked.

“We suspect that someone probably planned to intercept this
card before it ever reached your hands,” he explained.  He maintained eye
contact with Essie as he clenched his hands and cracked his knuckles audibly.

“Wouldn’t it be simpler just to send the card to the person
who it was intended for in the first place?” she asked.

“Simpler, but not safer,” he replied.  “If the card ever
were intercepted by law enforcement—just as has happened—having your name on
the card protects the actual recipient from being exposed.”

“I don’t understand,” said Essie, shaking her head is
disbelief.  “How would this person even know that I got this card, or when I
got this card in the mail?”

“That’s a good question,” Abbott said.  “And it’s something
we don’t know the answer to.  But, Miss Cobb, we have reason to believe that
the person who sent this card to you is part of a large drug ring that federal
agents have been tracking for years.  We’ve been in contact with agents in
Boston—where your card was postmarked—and they believe that your card was sent
from a major dealer.  Whoever the card was intended for is probably just a
minor cog in the machine, but if we could nab this person, he or she might be
able to lead us to the major dealer that we know is headquartered in the Boston
area.”

“From the return address?” she asked.

“Not so much that,” he said.  “You can write any false
address as a return address and this guy knows that, but you can’t fake a
postmark, and your envelope has a Boston postmark.  We know where it came from
and when.  We need to move fast so we can help law enforcement in the Boston
area crack this drug ring.”

“I certainly hope you do, Detective,” said Essie firmly. 
“These people have caused me enough anguish.”

“We need your help, Miss Cobb,” said Abbott, reaching out
and grabbing her hand.

“What?” she cried.

“We certainly don’t wish to embroil you in anything
dangerous, but we doubt that the intended recipient of this cocaine represents
any actual threat to you.  This is probably someone who has been using this
scheme for some time now and needs the residents of Happy Haven to maintain
this business.  This person just wants the drugs so they can distribute to
their users.  They’re probably just a small-time dealer, a small part of a big
organization.  But somehow they have managed to involve you in their business. 
The only way we see to capture them is to use you as bait.”

“What?” she cried again.  Magee moved closer and sat next to
Abbott on the sofa.

“Detective,” Magee said.  “I had the opportunity to speak
with Essie before you arrived and I think you’re scaring her.  Can you let me
try?”

“Sure, Magee,” said Abbott with a wave of his arms, rising
and moving over to the window.

“Essie,” said Magee in a soft voice, bending in to her, “I
think what Detective Abbott is asking for is your help in catching a criminal. 
You were telling me earlier about how you’ve solved some mysteries here at
Happy Haven.  What Detective Abbott is asking for is your help in solving
another one of those mysteries.  Right, Detective?”   Magee turned his head and
looked over at the window.

“Yup,” said Abbott, nodding.

“Essie is a real detective herself,” Magee said to Abbott. 
“She’s actually rather famous around here.”  Abbott listened to Magee list some
of Essie’s exploits and responded with a shrug.  He came back and sat back down
on the sofa.

“You can think about all of this as a mystery, Miss Cobb,”
he said.  “We don’t know who the intended recipient of your valentine is—and we
need to know, if we’re going to break up this ring.”