Too Sweet to Die by T. Doyle (namjoon book recommendations .TXT) 📕

She did a little jig and hugged me. “That’s great news. I’m gonna find Ingrid.” She practically glided away.

I popped my head in Marabel’s office. “Morning?”

Marabel checked her watch. “Why, yes, Charlie, it is morning. What is wrong? You look… different.”

“I forgot to bring coffee to the cabin. I forgot it’s really drafty, too. And the mattress was lumpy.” I fell into the chair in front of her desk, careful not to spill the precious liquid. “No coffee. No Charlie.” I sipped. “I’ll be fine in another four ounces or so.”

Marabel grinned. “I understand.”

“And I left my purse in the car.” The coffee had cooled enough and I chugged it.

“Okay. Maybe after your second cup you’ll remember to ask me about the strange guy going into Evie’s room.” Marabel waited for me to respond.

“Was that only yesterday?” I finished my coffee. “Who was it?”

“We’re not sure. Dark haired, thin but not athletic, band t-shirt and black pants. Drives an SUV,” she said.

“With a TapOut sticker on the back?” I asked.

“Yes.” She leaned forward. “Do you know who it is?”

“I’m not positive, but…” The physical description fit. Drugs. Tyler’s office. Organized crime. My brain tingled. “I think it’s the guy who restocks our vending machines.”

Marabel picked up her phone. “Go get your purse. I’ll call Mr. Nelson and see if he can find video of the SUV on days when the machines are stocked.”

I stood, still clutching my cup, and went out to the parking lot to get my purse. Could this guy be the link? He’d know what car I drove. His route would make him invisible because he had a reason to be anywhere. The overdose at The Pickle had a guy with Fentanyl, like the ones stashed in Evie’s room. Evie’s room, which was located near the pharmacy and nearly always empty since she spent most of her time with Ray’s dad. But what about Eric? How was he involved with this?

Walking back into work with my purse felt like a do-over, re-entering the facility, restarting my day. More awake. The police would investigate. He’d be found. I’d be safe. After putting my purse in a locker, I went to the cafeteria. I paid for a second cup of coffee and tipped her a ten, and then focused on work, my patients, and hoped I was right. During a short break, I poked my head into Mr. Nelson’s office.

The first thing that struck me was the number of word jumbles and word search books piled on a corner of his desk. The second thing was the large monitor on his desk with three camera angles. Mr. Nelson watched the monitor on fast forward. He paused the video and smiled at me.

“What can I help you with, Charlie?”

“I wanted to see if you found the SUV.” I glanced at the jumbles book, and then the screen that showed a clear view of the Sunnyview Villages sign. Maybe today would be full of epiphanies. “But can I ask you a personal question.”

“Maybe,” he drew the word out.

“How do you feel about the Sunnyview Villages sign.”

“It was supposed to be a temporary sign,” he said. “I don’t like it at all. Why?”

I stepped into his office and whispered, “Mr. Nelson, are you our anagram anarchist?”

His brows furrowed and he thought for a moment and then his face split into a huge smile revealing perfect white teeth. “I like that–anagram anarchist. Very clever.” His eyes twinkled. “And I’ll never tell.” He turned back to the monitor. “I haven’t spotted the SUV yet, but I just started. I’ll come by and let you know when I find it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Nelson.” I patted his shoulder and headed to the nurses’ station. At work, I was safe, and Ray would be here soon.

“Charlie, your husband’s been trying to get a hold of you,” Missy, our ward clerk waved to me. “He said it’s important.”

I patted my pockets with ice cold fingers and realized I’d left my phone in my purse. “Did he say why?” Please, not the kids.

Missy shook her head totally unaware I was a moment from full-blown panic. “No, just to call him.”

I ran to the locker room and pulled out my purse, looked for my phone any text messages. My movements were jerky and uncoordinated. Joe left three text messages asking me to call and called five times.

Please let the kids be safe.

I dialed Joe and jogged back to the nurses’ station. “Joe, are the kids okay?” My voice cracked.

Missy’s head whipped up, her eyes round.

“Yes, they’re fine. Someone set fire to the cabin. I’m out here now. There’s nothing left.” He sounded calm, maybe a little detached.

“Is Ray okay?” I asked.

“Ray left at eight this morning. Tom said he had a car drive by at eight-thirty and they saw the smoke. The fire department got here before it spread to the neighbors.” I heard the sound of a car door opening and closing. “Babe, everything we worked on last night is gone.”

“Ray still has the tablet and laptop,” I whispered. I wiped my sweaty hand across my shirt and held my chest, like I could physically massage my heart into beating slower.

“Yeah. I talked to him after I couldn’t get you on the phone. He was on his way to meet Simms and Krakauer. He’s got a meeting with Hank Warrens, and said he’d be out at Sunnyview right after. Please don’t go anywhere without an escort.”

“I promise.” I blew out a breath. “Do you want me to call the insurance company?”

“No, I’ll do it. Did you get some coffee?” His tender voice soothed me.

“Yes. I forgot my purse in my car, so I had to go out to get it. I’m sorry I missed your calls.” I stared down at my feet and realized I was wearing mismatched sneakers. They were both white, so I had that going for me. “I’m sorry I worried you.” Maybe I did need to end my caffeine addiction.

“I’m relieved you’re