Under Suspicion, With Child

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry.” And the bad thing was that he really did look sorry. The grow lights cast a reflection in his dark eyes, turning them to glowing ink.

“Me, too.” She’d just discovered she was pregnant the day before he’d been killed in a subway accident. They’d only been engaged for one night. Before she found out she was pregnant, she’d been considering moving out because the spark wasn’t there anymore for her. Had there ever really been a spark, or had she settled for companionship over coming home to an empty room?

“Jocelyne?” Andrei bent and peered into her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She pushed a stray hair out of her face, sweeping aside six-month-old memories with the wave of her hand. “Yes, yes. I’m all right.”

His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her, but he straightened and stared back toward the corner lit by the grow lamps. “Unless you know of another local source of that plant, I’d venture to guess that someone has been harvesting from this garden to drug the victims.”

Jocelyne stared at the lighted corner, uncontrollable cold overwhelming her body, almost as if a hideous creature lurked in the dark corners poised to crawl out after unsuspecting young women. She used to play hide-and-seek down here. Now all she could think of was the monster who could have been sneaking in to steal her mother’s herbs. A shiver shook her so hard, her teeth rattled. “You don’t think my mother’s capable of murder, do you?”

Andrei shook his head. “The victims were all strangled. It takes a lot of strength to strangle someone and then load them into a boat.”

“My mother is strong.” She didn’t know why she was giving him reasons to suspect her mother. The townsfolk already thought Hazel was a nutcase. Had she crossed the line of mild mannered to murderer?

“But she probably doesn’t have the strength it takes to lift a body. No, she’s not the killer, although it doesn’t take a lot of strength to be an accomplice.”

“As much as my mother loves this town, I can’t see her hurting anyone in it. If she is an accomplice to murder, she probably doesn’t know it.”

“Based on our brief acquaintance, I don’t think your mother has it in her to hurt others.”

He strode the full length of the basement level, studying the steps and the small windows positioned high on the walls that were on ground level from the outside. Very little light leached in through the dirty panes, casting a hazy glow two to three feet out from the glass. “Is there any other way in or out of here, besides the steps coming down from the kitchen?”

“No.” Jocelyne followed Andrei, her head reeling with the possibilities. “As big as the basement is, it only has the one set of steps down into it.”

“I don’t think a grown man could crawl in and out of the windows, but I’ll have a look at them from the outside.”

“So, you think someone has been sneaking down here stealing my mother’s herbs?” She leaned on a sturdy wood floor joist attempting a casual pose, when all she really needed was something to hold her up from the bombardment of frightening thoughts bearing down on her. “Who?”

“Good question. Does your mother lock the basement door?” Andrei stood with his back to the steps leading up to the kitchen.

“Only at night. It’s left open during the day. We keep extra supplies and spices down here.” She pointed to a shelf near the staircase stacked neatly with linens, pantry staples and bins of potatoes, carrots and onions. “Anyone could come down here.”

Andrei scanned the contents briefly before his glance shifted back to the staircase. “We’ll need to make a list of people who frequent the inn.”

“Besides the tourists, there are quite a few Raven’s Cliff residents who come here on a regular basis, not to mention the boarders who live here at the inn.” She reached around him for a pad of paper kept on the shelf. Caught up in trying to remember every person who could have come down these steps, she didn’t realize how close she’d come to the cop. As her hand closed around the pad, her breast bumped into the man’s rock-solid chest, sending what could only be described as an electric jolt through her system.

Startled by her reaction, Jocelyne jumped back, the pad clattering to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll just—” She bent to retrieve the pad, her cheeks burning, but Andrei’s hand was there first and she touched the back of his long, sturdy fingers. Another shock raced through her hand up into her arm and she lurched backward into a stack of baskets, sending them toppling over onto the stone floor. When her foot hooked a basket handle she pitched forward, landing hard against the person she’d been struggling to get away from.

Andrei caught her, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Are you always this nervous around men?”

“No.” Not men. Just you. What was it about Andrei Lagios that had her flustered so badly she was either fighting mad, passing out or panting? Whatever it was, it had to stop. She wasn’t interested in this or any man for that matter. Heck, she was six months pregnant and probably looked like she’d swallowed a basketball. What man would be attracted to that?

Jocelyne squared her shoulders and stepped free of Andrei’s hands. “I’ll make that list for you. Upstairs.”

When she emerged from the darkened staircase into the well-lit kitchen, she inhaled the fresh, reassuring scent of biscuits, cleansing her senses of the cobwebs of the basement and the confusion of stumbling into the cop. For several long moments she stood breathing in and out until she had her body and mind calm and in control.

A strong hand on her arm sent all her control flying out the window. “You need to eat something before you pass out again.”

“I will, just as soon as I jot down the names of the people I can remember.”

“Tell you what.” He led her to the table and urged her into a chair. “You sit. I’ll get you a plate of food while you write that list. Then you can tell me all about it while you eat.”

Before she could protest, the door swung closed behind the infuriating man.

Jocelyne could take care of herself. She didn’t need a man waiting on her or treating her like she was fragile or unable to fend for herself. She was an expectant mother and soon would have a baby to look after. She’d darn well better get tough to take care of her child. Pulling her thoughts out of the dining room, where Andrei gathered food, she set a pen to the paper and wrote.

In a few minutes, she had half a page of names. All people she knew or had grown up with. The acids roiled in her empty belly, a sinking feeling killing her appetite. Was the Seaside Strangler one of them?

Her hand hovered over the names of people she knew who frequented the inn. By the time Andrei returned with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast and set it down beside her, she’d finished, the effort exhausting her more than she wanted to admit.

Andrei leaned over her shoulder and peered down at the list.

His proximity made her nerves jangle. The thought of a killer amongst them, coupled with a hunky cop hanging over her shoulder, gave her a panic attack that threatened to overwhelm her. She pushed back, bumping into Andrei as she rose. “I need to finish with the breakfast crowd.”

Andrei handed her the plate. “Take the food with you. You need to eat.” When she took the plate, his hand fell to her arm. “Let’s keep this between the two of us. The less people who know about the henbane the better chance we have of finding our killer.”

“What about my mother?”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone, including her.”

She nodded, her stomach knotting into a tight clench. If she didn’t get some food in her empty stomach, she’d embarrass herself in front of him.

“Eat. We’ll talk later.” He dropped his hand from her arm and left the kitchen through the back door.

ANDREI STRODE INTO THE RCPD half an hour later, a scowl marring his brow. “Captain!”

“In here!” Captain Swanson shouted from inside his office.

Without acknowledging the other policemen scattered around the building, Andrei made a beeline for the captain, entering his office without waiting to be invited. After he closed the door behind him, he paced in front of his supervisor’s desk. “I found the source.”

The captain leaned forward. “So soon?”

“Hazel Baker has an herb garden in the basement of Cliffside Inn.” Andrei stopped pacing and faced him. “Henbane is one of the herbs she grows in that garden.”

“Hazel Baker.” Captain Swanson leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Half the town thinks she’s crazy, but she can’t be the killer. Our only surviving victim identified the Seaside Strangler as definitely male.”

She had been the intended second victim of the Seaside Strangler but, fortunate for her, she escaped.

“That’s right. However the basement isn’t locked during the day. Anyone with knowledge of the hallucinogenic qualities of the henbane could have stolen leaves from that plant.”

“Question is who?” The captain pinched the bridge of his nose.

Andrei pulled a folded piece of paper from his front breast pocket and tossed it on the desk. “That’s a list of people who frequent the inn and the reasons they do, along with the current residents. We need to interview every one of them and get their whereabouts on the nights of Angela’s, Cora’s and my sister’s disappearances. And we need to canvass the staff.”

Just the thought of his sister, Sofia, caused a surge of anger and pain to well up inAndrei’s throat. He swallowed hard past the knot of emotion, the backs of his eyelids burning. Even if he’d wanted to continue, he couldn’t. Instead he grappled with the grief and impotent fury, his fists clenched with the need to kill the man who’d taken the life of his sweet little sister.