Third Degree (A Murder 101 Mystery)

like this. It’s basically undetectable.”
    I wish I had known that when I had been married. God, why do I learn about all of the cool stuff so late?
    Queen stood as well. “This might not be the best place for me to stay,” she said, looking at Max regretfully. She tottered into the kitchen and stood next to me at the counter. “I’ll find somewhere else.”
    “You stay right here,” I said to Queen, and then turned to Ginny. “Continue.”
    “It’s odorless and tasteless and can kill you slowly, over time. Did you read Carter’s blog?” she asked.
    I didn’t want to admit that I had, but I did. No sense lying about it now.
    “Did you notice how he had changed in the photos?”
    “As a matter of fact—”
    “Well, there you go.”
    I started the coffee. Seemed like it was going to be a long night. “Well, if you’re right, how come the ME didn’t mention this?”
    Ginny spoke to me as if she were talking to a dumb student. “Because they don’t automatically test for poison in autopsies.”
    “They don’t?” Max and Queen asked at the same time. I could practically see the wheels turning in both of their heads.
    Ginny shook her head. “Nope. And they wanted this cleared quickly, so they went with the blunt force trauma cause of death. But Carter had called me a few weeks back and told me that he hadn’t been feeling well. He wondered what some of the signs and symptoms of various cancers were. I begged him to come in and get scanned, and he did.” She paused dramatically. “No cancer.”
    “Well, what did they find?” I asked.
    “Nothing. And since it wasn’t cancer, he blamed it on stress and didn’t go for any more tests.” Tears welled up in those long-lashed eyes of hers. “I should have made him go further. Maybe I could have saved him.” She sat back down and sobbed into her hands. “Now that I think about it, he showed all of the signs of arsenic poisoning, but I was just so concerned that it was cancer. I didn’t think it could be something more sinister.”
    “How could Lydia have come up with this plan?” I asked.
    “Are you dense?” Ginny asked. When I didn’t respond, she kept going. “First of all, you can find all kinds of stuff like this on the Internet. Ever heard of it? And secondly, her sister is a nurse. She knows a thing or two about toxicology.”
    “It’s probably in your best interest not to insult the person you’re trying to get to help you, don’t you think, Ginny?” But even as I was taking umbrage at Ginny’s insult, I was thinking back to Elaine’s insistence that Carter had been “healthy as a horse” when I had gone to the Wilmotts’ on the day Carter died. Was she protesting too much and giving me a clue?
    “I’m sorry,” she said.
    I leaned against the counter and watched coffee drip into the pot. She sure seemed concerned about this man, the same one who had published extremely unflattering photos of her on his blog. I didn’t know whether to believe this tale or not; she certainly relayed the details with a lot of conviction. But I had been there and I saw what happened and it was no accident that right after her husband landed a blow to Carter’s head, he was dead. But there was one other little matter and that concerned the explosive device in the engine. I asked Ginny who had put that there and asked if perhaps it had been George.
    “I don’t know but I know that it wasn’t George.”
    “How can you be so sure? He couldn’t have been too happy about you having an affair.”
    She shrugged. “He doesn’t know.”
    Now it was the three of us—Max, Queen, and me—who exclaimed in unison. “He doesn’t?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    Speaking from experience, I said, “He knows.” And I bet that’s why this whole thing started, I thought. And even if it wasn’t, that didn’t mean George Miller didn’t want Carter, the little weasel who took him to task day after day on his blog, dead.
    “Whatever,” she said, defeated. “It doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead, my husband’s going to jail, and our lives have been ruined.”
    I took some mugs out of the cabinet. “So what do you want from me, Ginny? Seems like you’ve got the whole thing figured out.”
    “I do, but I don’t have proof. Besides a big arsenic rock, that is. I tried to talk to Detective Madden about it, but as far as she’s concerned, the arrest has been made. It’s an open-and-shut case. She doesn’t really care how Carter