Stork Raving Mad: A Meg Langslow Mystery (A Meg Lanslow Mystery)

like food or not.”
    “Shall I have the students scour the hall for the pills?” Mendoza asked.
    “No,” the chief said. “We’re already doing that as part of our forensic work. But it would help if we knew what the blamed pills were.”
    “Ah.” Mendoza shrugged again, more eloquently. “I cannot help you. I leave that to my doctor.”
    “Not wise,” I said. “Anyone who’s taking any kind of medicine—even over-the-counter medicine—should be an informed consumer. Look up what the effects and side effects are, and whether it has interactions with other drugs you might be taking or—”
    “I cannot be bothered with that!” Mendoza exclaimed. “If my doctor decides to poison me, so be it!”
    With that, he strode out of the room. We could hear the brisk tap of his cane disappearing down the hallway.

Chapter 18
     
    “So, do you believe a word of Señor Mendoza’s confession?” I asked.
    “No,” the chief said, with a sigh. “But I suppose it’s rude to tell a distinguished foreign visitor point-blank that he’s a bald-faced liar.”
    “Of course, it’s always possible that he poisoned her and decided to confess to the bludgeoning to throw you off the track,” I suggested.
    “Always possible,” the chief agreed. “But I think if he did poison her, he’d react a little more when asked about the pills. Let’s hope he’s content with having made his confession and doesn’t keeping popping back in here every five minutes demanding to be arrested.”
    “Placate him,” I said. “Send Horace to confiscate his clothes for testing or something dramatic like that.”
    “It’s an idea,” the chief said. “I just wish I knew what those blasted pills are.”
    “You could call his doctor,” I said.
    “I did,” he said. “Actually, I had Debbie Anne do the actual calling, since her Spanish is better than mine. But Barcelona’s six hours ahead of us, so the doctor’s office hours were over bythe time we got his contact information. It’s unlikely we’ll hear before tomorrow.”
    He picked up his notebook and began flipping through it. Was that intended as a dismissal? Probably. But since he hadn’t actually ordered me out, I could take my time and decide what I wanted to do. Nap? Or eat? Both ideas had merit. But both required getting up and moving. And I was strangely comfortable. My back hurt less than usual. And—
    “Ms. Langslow?”
    I started and opened my eyes.
    “Sorry,” I said. “I was just trying to decide where to go when I left here.”
    “You were asleep,” he said.
    “Just resting my eyes and thinking,” I said. “When you’re as big as I am, you like to plan your movements.”
    “You always snore when you’re thinking?”
    I winced.
    “I was trying to decide between taking a nap and getting something to eat.” I braced and heaved myself up. “I guess my body decided for me.”
    “Take care of yourself,” he said as I waddled out.
    Of course, halfway down the long hallway to the rest of the house, I realized I was more hungry than sleepy. And I had no idea whether the kitchen was still off-limits. Or whether I really wanted to eat anything in it, since we still had a poisoner on the loose.
    I’d figure that out when I got there.
    I made another pit stop in the front hall bathroom and whenI came out, I ran into my grandfather searching the coatracks and muttering under his breath. He was, of course, looking on the wrong rack. I walked over to the right one and plucked out his overcoat.
    “Here,” I said. “And where are you going, anyway?”
    “Just out for a long walk to cool off,” he said.
    “Cool off?” I repeated. “The house doesn’t feel overheated to me, so I assume you mean your temper.”
    He scowled instead of answering, but he didn’t storm out, so I waited. Having someone to vent to would probably improve his temper even faster than a brisk walk, and I wasn’t at all sure anyone his age should be gallivanting about in twenty-degree temperatures.
    I found myself wondering, once again, why he had turned up to visit us at this inconvenient moment. Was it just to see his great-grandchildren as soon as they were born? That seemed unlikely—he was fond enough of my older sister’s six kids, but he certainly wasn’t gaga over them. More likely he was in the planning stages for another installment of his “Animals in Peril” TV series. Were there any endangered species in Caerphilly, Virginia? Or was this going to be an