Katie had finally contacted Beth that morning, and they’d made a tentative plan to meet at the coffee shop after her meeting with Carlson. She sent a text to Beth telling her that she was on the way. She was close enough to walk, so she got back out of her car and headed down the street. The afternoon had cooled off, and she wished she’d brought a jacket as she strode the two blocks to the Purple Parrot.

Katie ordered tea and a muffin and sank into one of the cushy couches by the window. She felt herself relax and realized how much that mysterious prescription had been weighing on her. She would still try to track it down, but sharing her concerns with Carlson meant she was more likely to get answers. Katie just hoped it hadn’t been one of her office staff.

She saw Beth leave Riley’s and cross the street. Beth spotted Katie in the window and waved.

She stopped at the counter, ordered, and then came to sit with Katie.

“Thank you for meeting me, Dr. LeClair.” Beth set her coffee down on the small table and sat in the armchair closest to Katie.

“Please call me Katie. I’m happy to help, but I’m not sure how.”

“I really just wanted to talk to someone who knew my mom.” Beth leaned forward and held Katie’s gaze. “I sensed the other night that you understood what I was going through.”

Katie looked out the window at the purpling sky. She closed her eyes briefly and then looked at Beth. “I lost my mother to suicide as well. I understand some of what you’re feeling, but every relationship is different, and everyone grieves in their own way.”

Beth blinked back tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It was a long time ago,” Katie said. She didn’t have the heart to tell Beth that it never really got easier; the sharp edges just got dull from so much handling. “How can I help?”

“I’ve been thinking more and more about this.” Beth pulled a notebook out of her bag. “I made a list of all the things that made me doubt she killed herself. It’s not just a vague feeling or a wild hope. I have good, verifiable reasons. First, she didn’t leave a note.”

Katie put her hand up, but Beth kept talking.

“I know you’re going to say that a lot of people don’t leave notes. But my mom left a note if she was running out to the grocery store. She put notes in my lunchbox when I was in elementary school. She left notes around the house for herself and for me. I used to tease her that she couldn’t think unless she had a pen in her hand. There is no way that she would kill herself without leaving a note.”

“Okay, I can understand that,” Katie said. “Could she have left a note on a computer or on her phone?”

Beth’s face fell. “I didn’t think of that. She did have a laptop.” Beth leaned forward and put her head in her hands. Her voice was muffled when she said, “I’ll have to find the laptop and check, but I doubt she would have done that. She thought computers were for research and shopping. Maybe e-mail.”

“It would help to take a look,” Katie said. “Maybe there will be some reference to what your mom was working on before she died.”

“Yes, you’re right. I didn’t think of it because I got the impression she had been researching things the old-fashioned way. But she may have left some notes on her computer.”

Beth sat up and flipped open her notebook. “Besides the lack of a note, she hated taking medicine. She would have needed to swallow a lot of pills to overdose on diazepam, and not only can I not imagine her taking one of them, but she would never take a whole bottle.”

Katie sat quietly, not wanting to argue every point with this grieving daughter. She agreed with Beth that things didn’t add up.

“Also, she was really happy,” Beth continued. “She was thrilled when Todd and I got engaged. She was helping me plan the wedding . . .” Beth stopped. “I just realized she won’t be at the wedding.” Beth picked up her mug of coffee and held it tight with both hands. She took a big sip and swallowed. Katie watched her regain control of her emotions.

Katie agreed with all of Beth’s points. If she promised to help her, it would mean she was in this 100 percent, regardless of what they discovered. She took a deep breath.

“I believe you,” Katie said. “I think there are too many things that don’t make sense.”

Beth smiled at Katie and dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Katie took a fortifying swig of tea. She hoped the answers they discovered wouldn’t make things worse.

“Okay, let’s make a plan. I don’t think the police will appreciate us mucking around in their investigation, so we need to keep this relatively quiet for now.”

Beth nodded. “I know. But they don’t seem to be taking it seriously. They’re all quite comfortable with the idea of suicide.”

“Chief Carlson told me he’s looking into it.” Katie didn’t think she should talk about the prescription until she knew more. She didn’t want to get Beth’s hopes up. “Why don’t you find the laptop and check it out? We can meet up again in a day or two.”

“I’d like that,” Beth said. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to about this.”

“I think we need to be very clear that if we don’t believe this was suicide or an accident, the only conclusion is that someone murdered your mother.”

Beth nodded solemnly and blinked back tears.

* * *

That evening Caleb bounded into the living room with all the pent-up energy of someone with big news. Since Caleb was usually secretive about most things, Katie knew there was more than a bit of drama in play.

“Guess what I did today?” He bounced on his toes like a kid.

“Hacked into the NSA?” Katie asked. “Are they coming to get you?”

Caleb’s face fell. “How did you know? And no, they aren’t coming to get me, because if I did that, they’d never know.”

“Okay, what did you do?” She closed her notebook. She’d been working on her list of things to do for her unofficial investigation.

“I found your pharmacy.”

“What pharmacy?”

“The one where Ellen Riley filled her prescription.” Caleb flopped onto the armchair and feigned boredom.

“What? How?” Katie leaned forward, all thoughts of her list gone.

Caleb tapped his temple. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

“But I couldn’t even find out which pharmacy it was from. How did you track it down?”

“I started thinking that if you didn’t write it, then maybe someone was trying to fill a fake prescription. If they used any pharmacy nearby, it’s likely they would be recognized. So I looked at small pharmacies, ones that aren’t part of a chain, that are more than ten miles outside of Baxter. I narrowed it down to five.” He held up five fingers.

“That is clever.”

“I know!” Caleb couldn’t have been more pleased with himself.

“What did you find out?”

“Well, it took some doing.” Caleb leaned forward, the excitement of his narrative taking over. “The owner of one pharmacy refused to give me any info. I went back after striking out at all the other places, and fortunately, the owner’s daughter was working today. She was more forthcoming.”

“So you charmed an unsuspecting girl. And?”

“She remembered filling a prescription for diazepam last Monday. She looked it up, and it was made out to Ellen Riley. It was picked up by a woman, and she paid cash.” He handed her a piece of paper with the pharmacy name and address on it.

“So it could have been Ellen. Maybe she called in her own script and picked it up.”

Caleb shook his head. “I showed her a picture of Ellen. She didn’t recognize her.”

“Strange. Maybe she had someone pick it up for her?”

“Or someone filled it without her knowledge.”

“Where is this place?” Katie held the paper with the address up.

“About fifteen minutes west of here. It’s a tiny private pharmacy. They don’t have anything computerized. It’s all logged in a big book by hand. Whoever chose it was very clever.”

“I didn’t think anyone still did things that way.”

Caleb shrugged. He thought everything should be computerized.

“Thank you for doing this, Caleb. Although now I don’t know what to think.”

“You’re welcome. I figured you needed some answers, but now I think there are more questions.”

Katie looked at him. “You’re right; there are more questions. I was hoping my idea that Ellen was murdered would be proven wrong, but the more I learn, the more likely it seems.”

Katie felt a whoosh of relief when she said the words. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d been hoping for this to be an accident—or even murder. She just couldn’t accept that she had missed all the signs of suicidal ideation. And she didn’t want to think she was responsible.

“I think you need to get your buddy Carlson to open a real investigation.”

“He already has. I’ll let him know about the pharmacy tomorrow. He didn’t seem nearly as concerned about where the prescription came from as I was.”

Caleb sat back and put his feet on the ottoman. “Maybe I can charge him a consultant’s fee.”

“I think the less he knows about your involvement, the better,” Katie said. “I don’t think he’s the type of guy who would want help from civilians.”