Now she was living on black coffee. With caffeine...
"Dr. Banister? Gwendolyn Pine here. I did a little digging and found a few answers for you. And a whole lot I can't tell you. Ordinarily I wouldn't admit the latter, but the situation is just peculiar enough that I think you deserve to know that yes, indeed, there is a connection with law enforcement, but not the Portland Police. And that's all I am at liberty to say.
"As for the package, it arrived at our office by messenger, with handwritten instructions as to where and when to send it. We have the instructions, but I'm afraid I can't let you see them without a warrant. I hope you understand. Apparently Mr. Jor--oh, dear, forget I said that. Apparently the sender didn't want any connection between himself and the package."
If Ms. Pine's slip of the tongue was accidental, Emaline would eat her fleece cap. She noted the phone number Pine recited before hanging up and added it to her contacts list. While she probably had all the information she was going to get, this was a connection she wanted to maintain. Just in case.
So Harry had been in the Seattle area in February. He'd called from here three weeks ago. Was he still here? In hiding? Or skulking about the underside of town, risking his life by playing a very dangerous game?
She used the in-room coffeemaker to brew herself a pot of chamomile tea. Nasty stuff, but it might help her relax. She had a lot of thinking to do.
A lot of decisions to make.
While she sipped and grimaced, she called Amy. They discussed everything that had happened since Martha had told them about buying the dog. The only conclusion they reached was that yes, Martha was probably capable of murder. "I just don't see her doing the research needed to do what I was thinking," she said, finally.
"No, Martha wouldn't put any effort into it," Amy agreed.
There was nothing more either of them could say.
Black Coffee (ISBN 978-1-60174-170-7) is available from Uncial Press
and most other online ebooksellers, or ask for it at your local library.