Inheriting Evil by K S Logan

Author:K S Logan [Logan, K S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781777214913
Published: 2020-05-24T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The loud bell of the old rotary telephone began ringing as Grace was ascending the stairs to her room. Its shrill was so loud you could hear it all the way upstairs from its location at the other end of the mansion. Is no one going to answer it? she wondered. It must have rung six times by now. On about the eighth ring, Grace decided to run for it. It could be the hospital concerning Aunt Lena.

“Hello?” Grace answered the phone, a little out of breath. It was Charlie Patterson; he owned the local nursery in town. “Hi Charlie, how’re you? How’s business?” Grace asked. Morvin had worked for the small nursery since as far back as Grace could remember. As a teenager, Charlie had offered Grace a part-time job as well. She liked the summer position as a cashier but never developed a passion for plants like her sister.

“Is that Gracey? I guess you’re in town for your mother’s funeral. So sorry to hear about that darlin’, we were just sickened by the news. She was always such a strong woman, your mum.” Charlie was a sweet man. He and his wife Jess had been married forever. They both worked very hard to keep their little family business afloat.

“Thank you, Charlie,” said Grace. She took a seat on the stool by the phone. “It’s been quite a shock, for sure.”

“Gracey, the reason I’m calling is that Jess is clearing out the old supply shed. We’ve been neglecting that place for years, and she came across a chemical that we’re not sure about. We don’t know where it came from. It’s not anywhere in the order book, but a slip on the bottle has Morvin’s initials on it. So we’re hoping maybe she can shed some light on it. Hey, I made a pun there. Get it? In the shed...shed some light, ha-ha.”

Grace envisioned the deep crow’s feet on his round face as he laughed.

“Good one, Charlie,” Grace laughed back. “What’s it called? I’ll ask her when she gets back from the store.” Grace looked on the counter for a pen and paper.

“Thanks, love. It’s called methyl iodide. They use it in some of those industrial plant fields, but we’ve never had use for it here. Pretty toxic stuff, not good to keep hanging ‘round.”

“Okay, I’ll have her call you,” Grace said after writing it down. “Please say hi to Jess for me.”

“I will do, dear, but you’ll have to come by for tea and say hello. It’s been ages since we’ve seen your pretty face.”

“I’ll try and get down there to see you real soon, Charlie.”

They said their goodbyes and Grace hung up the phone. Strange, she thought. She remembered reading about a tragic accident involving the same chemical at one of the field plantations upcountry last year. A man driving a tractor had accidentally unearthed the toxic liquid, releasing it into his airspace. He died soon after from complications to his central nervous system. Why would

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