Page 153 of Power of the Mind

“That’s bullshit.”

“I agree, but that’s what I’m saying. At this point, there isn’t much I can do. Unless you can put one of those phony echinacea bottles into one of your deceased people’s hands, and the testsprove kratom played a part in their death, I likely won’t get anywhere with this.”

Doyle left the restaurant a short time later, claiming he had to get home. He said he’d call once the lab reports were in—as a courtesy—but not to hold our breath.

“I’m pissed,” Tallus said once the diner door closed behind Doyle.

“Yep.”

“They didn’t buy their own kratom online. That’s way too big of a coincidence, and I get what he’s saying about proof, but come on. Sally or her kid or Madame Freaky Fortune Teller Bitch gave it to them. We know it, and he knows it.”

“He needs proof.”

“Proof my ass. I’ll give him proof.” I loved the fire in Tallus’s tone. His feisty edge appealed to me, but Doyle was right. I knew how the judicial system worked. If you couldn’t back up your facts with evidence, nothing stuck. Christ, half the time, even when you could, people got away with murder.

“Oh my god.” Tallus sat upright, eyes blown wide, irritation from a second ago gone.

“What?”

“Oh my god.” He swung around on the bench to face me. “Allan’s drug cupboard.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He had a bottle of echinacea. The only reason I remember is because Winifred said she recommended Janek to Allan and was disappointed to discover all the bottles he’d been given by the naturopath were still sealed, indicating he hadn’t bothered taking them. All except the echinacea. I saw it with my own two eyes. Oh my god. It’s Doyle’s proof.”

He paused, his eyes flicking back and forth like he was seeing something inside his head. He gasped again. “And the parkingticket places him at York Cemetery, where Sally’s kid dealt drugs. Diem, this is it.”

“Except Allan committed suicide.”

“But if there’s kratom in his system.”

“Allan committed suicide.”

“Fuck.” Tallus scowled, and I had to look away because his animosity would make me smile.

But he was onto something. “What about Peggy, Ezra, Kennedy, or the others. Maybe we can find another bottle that once belonged to them.”

“That would be Doyle’s proof, right?”

“It might help. He would still need those test results to come back positive.”

Tallus whipped out his phone. “I’m calling my girl Winnie. See if Allan’s relatives cleaned out his apartment yet.”

“But Allan was—”

“A suicide. Yeah, I know, but it’s still proof, and we need as much as we can get. He had a file. He counts.”

Tallus’s fire was back, and I happily relinquished control. “What do you want me to do?”

Holding the ringing phone to his ear, Tallus patted my cheek, smiling his gorgeous smile. “Sit there and look handsome. We both know I’m better with people. Winnie, hi. It’s Tallus.”

Winifred confirmed that Allen’s family had yet to deal with his belongings, and although the landlord had hired a company to clean out his apartment, they weren’t scheduled to arrive until the weekend.

Ezra’s mom confirmed she had a bottle of echinacea as well. Peggy’s sister, however, had gotten rid of everything. After contacting as many people as he could, we ended up with four positive hits.

Tallus had a magical way with people, easing their concerns without expunging them. He was also careful not to say toomuch about the case and our suspicions, knowing Doyle would have a fit.

It took another hour to race around town and collect the bottles. I slipped each into a clear plastic bag to preserve evidence despite them having been handled to the extreme. If Doyle did print the bottles we’d found in the dumpster, he would likely find matching sets on these bottles.

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