Free Deadly Devotion by Sandra Orchard

a real possibility.” She scanned the article. Al Brewster and his brother Cal had been sentenced to two years in prison for growing marijuana. “If Daisy got too inquisitive about what happened to Gord, Al might have decided he needed to get rid of her too.”
    Julie pushed her chair away from the desk. “But Daisy died from a toxin in her tea. How could Al have poisoned her tea?”
    “I don’t know.” Kate stared at the screen. Al didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would have invited Daisy into his office to share a cup of anything. Kate squinted at the grainy negative image of Al and his brother being carted off by police—or more precisely, at the woman standing in the background. “Is that Grandma Brewster?”
    Julie leaned closer, tilted her head from side to side, her expression uncertain. “Probably. She’s Al’s mom. Why?”
    “Grandma Brewster gave Daisy elixirs to sample all the time. Al—or his son—could have easily spiked one. How better to get away with something illegal than to have a son as the chief of police? It makes perfect sense. If Daisy found the marijuana at Herbs Are Us, she would have reported it directly to Hank to protect him from a scandal, believing he would handle the matter quietly.”
    Julie nodded, her whole body swaying in agreement. “Instead, he filed the report in the trash and disposed of the only witness—to protect his dad and his precious reputation.”
    “It explains why he came after me in the woods. I wondered how he had spotted me from the greenhouse. His father must’ve warned him someone else had been nosing around.”
    “But if that’s true, what can you do? Hank Brewster is the chief of police!”

5

    At police headquarters, Tom marched straight to Hank’s office. Questioning the chief’s actions was never a good way to stay under the radar, and that’s where Tom needed to be if he intended to find out who was responsible for the explosives residue in the shed. The sooner he got the reaming out finished with, the sooner he could get on the blower to someone at the National Security Agency and find out what was really going on in this town.
    Hank’s secretary dipped her chin and looked over her glasses at Tom. “The chief’s gone for coffee.” She scrutinized him like he was an uncooperative suspect she wanted to break. “You’re supposed to wait in the conference room.” Carla had been sweet on Hank in high school, running interference for him like an all-star. Apparently, that hadn’t changed.
    Tom felt the stares of half a dozen cops bore into the back of his neck as he slipped into the empty conference room. He shut the door and closed the blinds, then scrolled through the numbers on his cell, found Zeb’s name, and hit Connect.
    His NSA buddy picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Tom. Rural life getting to you already?” Zeb bellowed like he was still every inch the burly quarterback he’d once been. “Craving some excitement?”
    Tom snorted. “You’re the adrenaline junkie, not me. But I have run across something you might consider exciting.”
    “What? A trip over Niagara Falls in a barrel?” Zeb guffawed, and Tom could picture him rolling back in his chair, slapping his thigh.
    “Yeah, it’s great fun. You should try it sometime. Now, seriously, any chatter at NSA about an impending threat?”
    “Why? You planning an invasion?”
    “Are you going to tell me what I want to know, or do I go over your head?”
    “You check your sense of humor at the border?”
    Prying apart the blinds, Tom peered out the window. “Is Cliff still your boss?”
    “Okay. Okay. Yeah, there’s chatter. There’s always chatter. We stopped some arms coming across the forty-eighth parallel into Minnesota last week.”
    “What about from Niagara?”
    “What’re you sitting on?”
    Tom let the blinds fall back into place and paced the room. “I may have found the remains of a manufacturing operation. Could be old, but seems like they cleared