Page 80 of Midnight Waters

“Good.” Ben disappeared back beneath the bed.

“What are you looking for, anyway?” I asked.

I daren’t touch anything, but Ben seemed more than happy to.

“Checking all his valuables are still here.”

I opened my mouth to ask why, but decided against it.

Whatever Ben’s concerns were around Tyler’s belongings would have little bearing on why someone killed him. But something told me it was more personal than that.

Sure enough, when Ben emerged, I pretended I hadn’t seen him slip something into his pocket.

My heart sank. I had focused so much on the investigation and trying to get along with Ben that I had forgotten he had lost one of his best friends.

Regardless of his crappy attitude, maybe I could have been a little nicer to him.

I grimaced as I looked inside the bin. Someone had been sick in here.

“Was Tyler ill before he died?” I asked.

“Perfectly healthy. Why?”

I nodded at the bin. Ben all but pushed me out of the way to look.

“Michaela,” he said. “She’s been spending a lot of time in here.”

“Is she sick?”

“She just lost her son. What do you think?”

I turned my back to Ben to look around the room some more. The urge to remind him I knew a great deal about losing family simmered just beneath the surface of my patience.

“There’s nothing different about Tyler’s room,” Ben said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wonder why George didn’t want me coming up here?”

“Unless it wasn’t Tyler’s room he didn’t want you to see,” I said.

Realisation crossed Ben’s face, and he hurried out the door without another word. I followed him through the door across the hall into the master bedroom.

Dirty bowls, plates, and empty potion bottles occupied every surface. The bedding hung off the bed, stained.

“I take it this is unusual?” I asked as Ben went off to look in the wardrobe.

“Very. She kept a tidy house before this. Reasonably, anyway.”

I picked my way across the room to the bedside table and took an empty potion vial between my thumb and forefinger. I looked down the neck of the vial. Some residue slipped around the bottom, shimmering a silvery blue in the morning light.

“Ben,” I said. “Come and look at this.”

To my surprise, he actually did as I asked and peered at the vial.

“Do you know what potions these are?” I asked.

Ben shrugged. “She’s on a lot of antidepressant and calming potions right now.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what these are. Look.”

I handed him the vial, and he closed one eye to look inside.

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