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“It’s not pretty, Sean. If I were you, I wouldn’t,” replied Williams.
“I need to,” said King firmly.
Williams reluctantly led them inside and over to Sally’s corpse.
“My God,” said Michelle.
“It was like the killer was furious at her about something,” said Williams. “Just kept on beating her in the head.” He looked at King. “Maybe Sally knew more than she was telling.”
“Maybe,” said King slowly as he pulled his gaze away. He stood solemnly outside the stables and watched as Sally’s body was carried out in a black pouch.
As the doors on the ambulance clunked shut, he turned to Williams. “This was my fault. I forced her to tell me the truth and never even thought she might be in danger because of it.”
“You were fighting for your life, Sean,” countered Williams. “You didn’t really have an opportunity to think about anything else.”
“How’s Eddie doing?” asked Michelle.
Bailey answered, “I just called the hospital. They said he’s still unconscious but out of danger.”
“Do they know what it was yet?”
“No. I was going to drop by the hospital later, if you want to come along. Right now I intend to talk to Dorothea again. And after that, Savannah, although I hear she’s a wreck.”
As they walked along, Williams turned to King. “If this thing pans out on Canney, I’m going to owe you one. I never would have picked up on that.”
“That’s just one piece of the puzzle, Todd,” replied King.
Dorothea met them at her house. She looked pale and drawn. While Williams, King and Michelle offered words of commiseration, Chip Bailey volunteered no such niceties. He looked at her with a mixture of anger and determination. They stepped around the muddied sections of the entryway and went to the living room.
“What time did you and Eddie go to bed?” asked Williams.
“About half past midnight. He’d been out in his studio working. But we didn’t go to sleep then. Not until about an hour later.” She smiled in an embarrassed fashion. “I didn’t think that possibly being implicated in a murder could do so much for one’s sex life. But Eddie’s been wonderful throughout this ordeal.”
“A good man is hard to find in times of trouble,” said Michelle tightly.
“I’m starting to realize that,” she answered with surprising sincerity.
Bailey broke in. “He was drugged, Dorothea. I’ve talked to the doctors at the hospital, and they said he’s under the influence of some powerful narcotic.”
She suddenly looked frightened. “That’s what I can’t understand. I… I have to tell you that when Savannah started banging on our door, I woke up in a total fog. I still don’t feel quite all together.”
Bailey looked at her suspiciously and said, “You didn’t mention anything like that when we came by this morning.”
Dorothea spoke quickly. “Everything was happening so fast. Savannah was a mess, Sally was dead and I couldn’t wake Eddie. God, it was all like a nightmare.”
“What time did Savannah come to your door?” asked Bailey.
“A little past eight. I remember looking at the clock in the foyer.”
“What did Eddie have to eat or drink last night?”
“We had dinner, nothing unusual. Some wine after dinner, and then he went to his studio to paint and I did some paperwork in my home office.”
“Can we see the leftovers from the meal and the bottle of wine?” asked Bailey.
“There weren’t any leftovers. I think the bottle of wine is around here somewhere.”
“I’d appreciate if you could show me where it is before I leave,” said Bailey.
