Page 70 of Don't Tell Me How to Die

“Were there any signs of a struggle? Any defensive wounds? Any indication that someone forced her to take the pills?” I asked.

“None. Not on her person or in her house, but...”

I groaned. Nothing good ever follows the wordbut.

“The ME waved it off. She said, ‘Someone could have slipped them in her Chardonnay,’ which, by the way, along with a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on English muffins, were the only contents they found in her stomach.”

“Peanut butter, jelly, and white wine?” I said.

“Clearly Minna marched to the beat of her own drum,” he said.

“Damn her!” I said. “She spent the better part of a year accusing my husband of environmental genocide. You would think she’d have at least dashed off a quick suicide note condemning her oppressors. She wasn’t the type to skulk off quietly.”

“No suicide note, but we found this.” He removed some papers from his pocket. “They’re drafts of an apology letter. They were on her laptop, written a week before her body was found. I printed them out.”

“Who was she apologizing to?”

“Misty Sinclair.”

My stomach knotted. “Misty?”

“Minna Schultz hosed, cheated, screwed over, and downright made a lot of people miserable, but I can’t think of anyone who she owed an amend to more than Misty. Here’s her first attempt,” he said, handing me a sheet of paper. “Look at the time stamp on it.”

“June first at 9:22 p.m.,” I said. “That’s the same day she had the final showdown with Alex at the hospital.”

I read it.

Dear Misty. whan I saw you in town over the MemrialDay weekend I was totally oerwhelmed. I know I shouldnt have run off but I needed time to think. I know you blame me forwhat your father did but

“It’s riddled with typos,” I said. “She must have been totally drunk.”

“And at a loss for words. Her second stab was time-stamped three minutes after the first. She ran out of steam even faster on this one.” He handed me a sheet of paper that was almost blank.

Dear Mistyy—first and foremost I am a envvironmentalitst

“And here’s the last one. It was written the following morning at 5:49,” he said, handing it to me.

Dear Misty, 25 years ago when I campaigned against the use of toxic solvents by your father in his dry cleaning business, I had no idea that my strong stance would lead to such a tragic outcome. You were too young and too raw back then for me to explain to you that my protests were out of my heartfelt concern for the health and welfare of our community and not the vindictive business attack for which I was accused.

Then when I saw you in town over this past holiday weekend all the pain that I have tried to bury since that night came flooding back to the surface, and I was too overwhelmed to talk to you. So I ran. I’m sorry for that, and I’m deeply sorry for your loss. And while I know you can never forgive me, I want you to know that I did not put a gun in your father’s hand, and that simple truth has helped me sleep these past 25 years. You deserve so much more than this simple note, but maybe it will serve to open a door, and that one day we will find a way to heal together.

Sincerely yours,

Minna Schultz

“Wow,” I said. “A little defensive, but it reads like a genuine apology. And no typos. It’s like she woke up sober the morning after and spilled her guts out. Do you know if she ever sent this to Misty?”

“It’s not in her sent email, and I plan to contact Ms. Sinclair and find out. But what’s important here is not whether she sent this letter but that she wrote it. It attests to the fact that Minna Schultz was filled with guilt and remorse just before her death.”

“And do you think that it will convince the ME to call it suicide?”

“Not by itself. But add that to the fact that Minna’s shrink corroborated that she was clinically depressed, her assistant said she’d been moody and despondent, and Dr. Dunn can recount her meltdown on June first and her vow to get even if it’s the last thing she did.”

“Excellent police work, Chief,” I said. “Thank you.”

His lips parted and turned upward.

“You’re smiling again,” I said.

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