Death Deserved (A Detective Jackson Mystery) Read Online Free PDF

closed. Evans held out her hand to Susan. “Yes. Who are you? I mean, in connection to Lammers?”
    “Denise and I are longtime friends.” Susan smiled gently. The woman was soft everywhere—face, body, and eyes.
    They were a couple. Of course. Now she knew why Lammers never talked about her personal life. That was too bad. Other gay women in the department didn’t hide it and didn’t get harassed. “You’re the one who brought her in?”
    “I called an ambulance. She was too dizzy to walk, and I can’t manage her bulk on my own.” Another warm smile.
    “Can we sit down? I need to know everything that happened yesterday, before she was poisoned.”
    Susan’s eyes widened. “You think this was a crime?”
    “It could be.” Evans gestured for them to sit, and she took the bench so her back was to the window. From there, she could see the patient and the entry. “Did Lammers—I mean Denise—have enemies? Or ex-cons who threatened her?” Evans was usually good about referring to victims by their first names with their families, even though on the job cops used last names for everyone. But this was different. She’d known her boss as Lammers for years.
    “Not really. When she was a patrol sergeant, a gang member she’d put away sent her a nasty letter from prison, but that’s it. Except for the emails from disgruntled citizens who think Eugene cops are idiots.”
    “I’d like to see those. But they’re probably on her work computer.”
    “Yes. She kept her personal email private for only family and close friends.”
    “Tell me what happened before she developed symptoms.”
    “There’s not much to tell.” Susan adjusted her sweater, then glanced out the window.
    She was about to lie!
    “Denise was in the garage, repotting some houseplants. When she came in, she said she had a headache. She took some aspirin, then sat down to read. After a while, she started to feel dizzy, so she laid down. A half hour later, she started vomiting and was so sick I called 911.”
    What part of that wasn’t true? It had to be the houseplants. What activity were they hiding? “What if someone tried to kill her?” Evans pressed. “They could try again. Please tell me the truth.”
    “No one tried to kill her.” Susan’s jaw trembled.
    Evans feared the woman was about to cry. “What aren’t you telling me? I know she’s a cop, and I’ll do my best to protect her secret, whatever it is.” Unless it was criminal, but that didn’t seem possible.
    Susan leaned forward and whispered, “Denise has fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis. She takes marijuana for the pain. Please don’t tell anyone.”
    Pot? Big, brash Lammers—who once took down a PCP-crazed man by beating his legs with a baton—was a stoner? Evans realized her mouth was hanging open, so she snapped it shut. Marijuana was legal now, but that didn’t mean Oregon cops could get away with smoking it. The sergeant could lose her job. Evans was sorry she’d asked. But what if the pot had made her sick? “You’re saying she smoked or consumed cannabis right before she developed symptoms?”
    “Yes. She always took one hit from a pipe for immediate pain relief, then usually ate a brownie or cookie for extended coverage.” Susan blushed, her pudgy cheeks pink against her pale face. “I’m sorry I lied. But Denise was in the garage. She didn’t ever smoke in the house.”
    “If the pot made her sick, I need to know the supplier.”
    “I was afraid of that.” Susan stood and wrapped her arms around herself. “I know it’s legal now, and I buy it for her, but the whole situation makes me extremely uncomfortable.”
    Evans slipped her tablet computer out of her shoulder bag, clicked it on, and opened a file. “Where do you buy it? If their supply is contaminated with pesticides or something, we have to get the product out of circulation. Others could get sick. Maybe die.”
    “From the Green Medicine store.”
    Evans suppressed a smile.
    “I