“Really? What kind of business?”
“She was working on a line of apothecary products.”
“I’m surprised to hear that, given her success as an artist.”
A strange look came into Joel’s eyes. “After moving into the mansion, Delilah started to get sort of radicalized. In a good way. She became worried—obsessed, really—about all the new viruses going around. Covid and super-flus, that sort of thing. She believed she had access to ancient recipes and special waters that enabled her to brew unique natural cures.”
“What do you mean by ‘special waters’? Special how?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, what did she tell you about them?” Harper said in the gentle tone she used when trying to get one of her students to focus.
“She went on and on about its magical qualities, but if you ask me, the main thing was that it was free of what they put in tap water. Fluoride and chlorine and maltodextrin, and who knows what else.”
“There’s no maltodextrin in tap water, Joel. That’s a carbohydrate.”
Joel looked nonplussed. “I mean, the point is, you don’t drinktapwater, do you?”
“I take it you think that’s not a good idea?”
He gave her a sage nod. “I’d avoid it if I were you. Delilah said her work with the spirits gave her access to otherworldly knowledge, which she was hoping to share with others once she nailed down the microdosing process, and that sort of thing.”
“I’m intrigued. Do you have any of these concoctions?”
He shook his head. “Wish I did. I was hoping to get back into her house, but the cops have it shut up tight. Sold the last of my supply to a lady a few days before Delilah died. Rotten timing.”
“Delilah was selling her products?”
He looked away. “It was sort of an entrepreneurial situation. No flies on me, as my mama used to say. Delilah didn’t believe in profiting off people’s bad health. Also, she didn’t believe her products were ready to be distributed, which was ridiculous. I’ve been using her products, and I’ve never felt better. Look at me: I’m the picture of health.”
“You actually look a little pale.”
“Pfffft!” Joel replied, and took another swig of water.
“Who did you sell the last of your supply to?”
“I’m more of a salesman than a record keeper, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged, then brightened. “There might be more, though, in Delilah’s laboratory.”
“Delilah had a laboratory?”
“Duh.”
“Where was it?”
“In her basement.”
“There’s a basement at the Perles Mansion?”
He widened his eyes. “Are you sure you’re a historian? No offense.”
“Pretty sure. I just didn’t realize historic adobe buildings had basements,” Harper said. She thought of the blueprints Constance had shown her. There was no basement noted on them.
“Not many do, but this one does. And it’s a doozy. Old Dr. Perles, the mad scientist himself, outfitted it originally, I guess.”
“Soren Perles was a mad scientist?”
Joel sighed dramatically. “You were on my tour. Weren’t you listening?”
