The Last Day

THIRTY-EIGHT

“We should call the police,” Natasha said, after learning about the hiding place.

“You sure should,” Leslie agreed as she poured Ward a cup of coffee.

“What do you think?” Ward asked Todd. “Some nut has been watching our house for a long time. Would Dibble or Lander Electric hire a private eye to spy on us over time like that?”

“This will be under the sheriff's jurisdiction, and the truth is we're only talking trespassing. It might be some private eye. Some of us will do anything to get a result. I think you should call Gene Duncan and see how he thinks you should handle it. Given all that's happened, I think he might want to report it to the FBI. Let them process the evidence.”

“There's something else,” Ward said. “I was about to tell you when you saw the guy outside. Some weird things have been happening. Some of Barney's things have been moved around over the past week. A baseball from his room ended up in Natasha's bed under a pillow. She thought I did it. A stuffed bear of Barney's vanished from Natasha's room. A watch of his vanished from Natasha's jewelry box.”

“And there's no other explanation? Nobody else has access to the house?”

“No. And we found a handmade casket with a figure of a young boy in it in Barney's room. We are sure Barney didn't have that, and we certainly didn't put it there.”

“I've been having hand tremors that started about a month ago,” Natasha said. “They're getting progressively worse. And Ward's been losing time and doing things he doesn't remember.”

“It's like I lose my nights, don't remember dreams, feel dull in the mornings.”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Natasha said, “but now in the light of everything else that's happened, I'm seriously thinking that we're being drugged.”

Todd was silent.

“I can't believe I'm saying this. Look, since our symptoms are very different, I think the drugs we've been getting are as well,” Natasha said. “Isn't it possible that someone out there might be giving each of us the different drugs, different ways? Isn't it possible?”

“It's possible,” Todd said. “If someone's been in here, he certainly could be moving things and even drugging you both. Maybe he's doing it and watching his handiwork. Yes, it sounds paranoid, but I think you have reason to be paranoid.”

“That's scary,” Leslie said. “Sitting in a hole for days on end, carving a word into the clay over and over, is way beyond creepy. If the crazy bastard has been coming in here when you weren't home, he could have come in when you were, or hidden in here and…”

“Maybe he knows what only one of us drinks or eats. He spikes hers with one drug and mine with another,” Ward said.

Todd stared at him and nodded slowly. “So let's see if we can figure out what that might be.”

“Well, she drinks wine. I don't care for it,” Ward said.

“Daily,” Natasha said. “That's the only thing I can think of. I know how far- fetched this is, but it makes sense, doesn't it? Oh, and I drink orange juice and Ward has a citrus allergy.”

Todd nodded. “And you, Ward? What's only yours?”

“Scotch. That and bottled water. Natasha drinks our well water. I don't mind the taste, except when I pour it into my single malts.”

“Gather up the bottles you have, and I'll take the samples and drop them at a lab I use.”

“Shouldn't they get the FBI to test them?” Leslie said.

“You could let the FBI test them. I'm not saying you shouldn't. But I'll do it, too, in case they screw it up or don't actually do it. Are you ready to trust them? They may just think this is a smoke screen designed by Ward to throw them off him.”

“I don't trust the FBI,” Ward agreed, surely.

“But, on the other hand, if someone's been in and has done that, it might help convince them of your innocence with the virus,” Natasha told Ward. “And they might be convinced we didn't spike the drinks ourselves. I mean, there's no real evidence you are guilty of anything. And this same person might have put the virus in your computers. I mean, they have to see that's possible, and would explain everything.”

“Why would he be targeting both of us, not just me?” Ward said. “I think we should let the FBI see the hole out there, and if they seem receptive, we can tell them that we think we're being drugged.”

“I'll take samples of the wine, the OJ, and the Scotch, and we'll give them the rest and see if we get the same results. They'll have to check it out. It isn't proof that there's someone else doing it, but coupled with the hole out there, it sure gives your lawyer ammunition for reasonable doubt.”

“I'm a doctor with access to drugs and compounds,” Natasha said.

“But they haven't accused you of anything. Just me,” Ward said.

“I'll call Gene,” Ward told them. “He'll know what we should do, legally speaking, and he can call the FBI and explain it to them. He can probably get them to come out here.”

“And we can see if someone has figured out our alarm system's code,” Ward said. “It's a top-of- the- line system and we always arm it when we leave, and at night when we settle in. With all the home invasions around, I figured that because people might think Natasha keeps drugs here they might come to find them.”

“Has it gone off recently?” Todd asked.

“No. A few times when we first got it and made stupid mistakes. Not in three or four years, though.”

“There should be a record of entries. Even if he entered your code, or somehow added his own, the entries should have registered with the monitoring service,” Todd said. “Get me their information and I'll get the log and we can see if it was disarmed when you weren't here. Go ahead and call Duncan.”

Ward reached for the portable phone.

“I'll sweep the house for bugs,” Todd said, standing. “I carry some sweeping equipment in the truck that'll tell me if there's anything here. And I'll take pictures of the hide and what he left there. And if you'll empty some water bottles and get a funnel if you have one, I can collect the samples.”

“But wine bottles have corks,” Leslie said.

“A syringe would take care of that,” Todd told her bluntly “We'll know if there's anything in them later today. A toxicology screen doesn't take long, and I'll get it rushed.”

Ward dialed Gene.

“I was just about to call you,” Gene said, by way of answering.

“You need to come to the house right now,” Ward told him.

“What's up?” Gene asked.

Ward said, “We should talk face- to- face.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”