Free Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 05 - A Deadly Change of Luck by Gina Cresse Page B

nodded, returning to the work of identifying the contents of the capsules.
    Sam marched me down the hall and out of the building.  “Just how many people have you talked to about this?” he demanded.
    I pulled my arm out of his grip.  “About what?   The ticket?”
    “ Yes, and the pills.”
    “Well, let me see.  Craig, of course.   And Jason, and Fiona,” I listed.
    “Fiona?”
    “She’s the real estate broker who sold me the house.  You might want to talk to her.  She knows a little about Lou Winnomore’s family history.  Real interesting stuff.”
    Sam scribbled something in his little black notebook.  “Listen.  I don’t want a single word breathed about what we just found out.  Got it?”
    “Yes.  Why?”
    “You said that ticket expires in two days?”
    I nodded.
    “I don’t want the killer to have any clue that we’re on to the fact that Lou Winnomore was murdered.  I want him to prance right up to that lottery office and wave the ticket in their faces.”
    “Can I tell Craig?” I asked.
    “No one.   Not Craig.  Not Jason.  Not even your houseplants.  Understood?”
    “ Understood.   But Craig wouldn’t —“
    “No!”
    “Al l right.   Don’t get so mad.  I was just asking.”
    “Right now, I want you to take me to the house.  I want to have a look around.”
    “Okay.  Don’t you want to have your team go over it?  There’s a lot of stuff there.”
    Sam shook his head.  “I don’t want a bunch of cops milling around the place.  That might scare our guy off.”
     
    When we pulled up to Rancho Costa Little, a large garbage bin was parked in front of the house at the curb.  I pulled into the driveway.
    “Good.  The bin is here,” I commented.
    “Don’t throw anything away until I say you can,” Sam instructed.
    I calculated the cost of the bin on a per-day basis in my head and hoped he wouldn’t make me wait months to use it.
    I took Sam through the house and showed him where I found the few pieces of evidence that he’d already seen.
    “Where’s that calendar?” he asked.
    “At home.   I’ll bring it to your office later,” I said.
    “Good.  Where’d you find the pillbox?”
    “Over here,” I said, pointing to the spot on the floor.
    Sam studied the kitchen area, then wandered through the rest of the house.  “What’s all this stuff?” he asked, staring at a bunch of items piled in the corner.
    “That’s slated for a yard sale, just as soon as I sort through the rest of the house.”
    “No yard sale until— “
“I know.  Until you tell me I can.  I’m not stupid.”
    He grunted what I assumed was an agreement to my remark.
    I took him out to the garage and showed him the plastic garbage bags I’d already filled.  He opened them one by one and rummaged through the contents.  I sat down on the cold cement floor and watched him study the stuff I’d declared trash. 
    After he finished sorting through the garbage bags, we spent hours going through all the rooms of the house.  We were interrupted when his cell phone rang out a vaguely familiar tune.
    “Dragnet?” I asked as he reached in his pocket for his cell phone.
    He grinned and nodded.  “Wright here,” he announced into the phone.
    “Eric.  What’ve you got?
    “That’s okay.  Just tell me what you do know.
    “So it is cyanide.  Potassium?
    “Sodium.   Great.   Thanks, Eric.  Let me know when you get the rest.  I owe you one.”
    Sam slipped his phone back in his pocket.  “That was Eric.  The capsules were filled with sodium cyanide.  The guy was probably dead anywhere from one to ten minutes after he swallowed them.”
    I felt a little queasy just thinking about it.  “Were there any fingerprints on the capsules?”
    “You kidding?   You wear rubber gloves when you handle cyanide or you die.  It’s absorbed through the skin.”
    “What about those specs?  What were they?” I asked.
    “He didn’t have any results on that yet.  Thought he