Sparky Jarvis opened the door to her apartment, dropped her shoes by the door one at a time and sighed from the sheer pleasure of finally being home. It had been a strenuous day full of the frustrations of only answering phones and the joy of trying to find answers to some questions Ian had asked her to look in to.
“Hi, honey. I’m home!” She called out as she plopped on the couch and put her feet up.
“Dinner is almost ready.” The voice came back from the kitchen.
“Aunt Sparky!” Bellowed from a room somewhere in the house followed by the unmistakable energetic footsteps of her niece. She was practically blindsided as Vonnie leaped onto her and covered her with little girl hugs and kisses. “Are ya home?”
“No, honey. I’m just a figment of your imagination.” Sparky hugged and kissed back signaling the end of the endearments. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yah huh.” Vonnie nodded her head and pounced on the couch beside her. “Daddy and me went to the grocery store and he let me pick out dinner.”
“Mmm, corn dogs and Cheerwine?” Sparky asked.
“An’ mac ‘n’ cheese.” She put her hands on her hips. “How’d you know?”
“I’m just good at guessing.” She looked up and smiled at her brother, now appearing from the kitchen.
“Vonnie, go wash up for dinner.” He said watching his genetic shooting star whoosh from the couch and down the hallway. “How ‘bout you Baby Sis? Did you have a good day?”
Sparky nodded her head. “I hate answering the phones, but with luck those days are numbered. Have you heard from Ian?”
“He’s home.” Billy sat on the couch. “Everyone is fussing and coddling, driving him right up the wall, but he’s just glad no longer be tethered to that hospital bed.”
“I give him a day before he’s off doing lots of things he shouldn’t be doing yet.” Sparky rubbed her temples. “How far do you think they’ll let him get before they yank the chain back?”
“You know Ian, unless he’s doing a dozen things at once, he thinks he’s wasting his time.” He patted his sister on the leg. “Go wash up, dinner’s ready.”
“Yay, corndogs again.”
“Vonnie’s having corndogs. It’s Thursday, that’s her day to pick her meals. The adults are having pasta, garlic bread and a nice bottle of red wine.”
Sparky threw back her head and closed her eyes. “I am so thankful I’m an adult.”
“Do you want vinegar and oil on your salad or Italian?” Billy asked as he headed back to the kitchen and she down the hall to the bathroom.
“V and O, please.” She yelled back, stepping to the wall as Vonnie raced past her. “I take it they gave Ian his phone back.”
“I think he had to wrestle Tippy for it, but he’s got one. He said for you to call or text him when you got a chance.” She heard as she washed her hands and face.
Everything washed and cleaned, humans properly seated at the table and grace having been said, the three dug in. Sparky watched her niece slop a corn dog in a bowl of ketchup and shove as much of it as she could in her mouth. She assumed it was food on a stick and a messy procedure that appealed to the little girl. Surely it wasn’t the taste.
“Guess what?” Vonnie asked after a big barely chewed swallow. “Daddy and I are goin’ to California to visit Uncle Ian.”
“I know.” Sparky replied, enjoying the Alfredo sauce on her pasta. “This is great, from a jar?”
“No.” Billy beamed. “I made it myself. Good isn’t it?”
“Very.” Sparky sipped her wine. “So are you wishing now you’d gone back with Reese yesterday?”
“Yes and no.” He admitted. “There are still a number of things I need to get done here, and I think our little surprise is better delivered solo.” He twisted some pasta on his fork.
“Shouldn’t Reese have gotten home by now?” Sparky looked at her watch.
“Shortly.” Billy picked up a napkin and wiped the ketchup dripping off his daughter’s chin. “Girl, you are gonna drown yourself in ketchup. Be careful.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled and went ahead and plunged her corndog back in the ketchup bowl and swished it around.
“He called about an hour ago saying he was starting the last leg. With good weather he’ll be there by night fall.”
“Did you tell him about the mail?” Sparky asked.
“I forgot.” Billy turned to his daughter, a little more sternly this time. “Young lady, eat and stop playing or dinner will be over before dessert.”
“Sugar, have some macaroni and cheese, too.” Sparky smiled at the four year old. “And take a bite of the corndog don’t just lick off the ketchup.”
Billy looked at his sister and grinned. “What is it about the women in this family and condiments?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember the fit you pitched when Mom refused to let you take mustard sandwiches for your lunch at school?”
“Mustard sandwiches?” Vonnie crinkled her ketchup splattered nose. “Ewwww!”
“Fortunately we outgrow it.” Sparky said. “I need to call Ian with some information. I’ll find out what he wants to do about the mail.”
“So you found something out for him?” Billy drained his wine. “More wine?”
“No thank you.” Sparky continued to enjoy her pasta. “Sgt Cummings gave me a hard time at first, but then he finally put the file on his desk and left the room to take a phone call.”
“So you stole the information?” Billy scowled at his sister.
“No, I think he did it deliberately to help Ian. I got want I needed to help and Sgt. Cummings didn’t have to wade through reams of endless red tape.” Sparky swiped the last drops of Alfredo off her plate with the last bite of garlic bread. “I didn’t get a copy of it, but I got all I needed.”
“Enough to settle Ian’s mind?”
She nodded her head. “It makes a little more sense now, but in my mind opens up a new whole series of questions.”
“Oh, great.” Billy folded his napkin up and dropped it on his plate.
“I wonder if I should even pass on the information or wait until I answer a few more of my own questions.” Sparky reached for Vonnie’s dinnerware. “Are you finished, young lady?”
Vonnie nodded her head and burped. “Why don’t you go feed the kitties while I help your Daddy with the dishes?”
“’Kay.” She was off like a shot.
Sparky carried the empty plates to the kitchen and slipped them into the sudsy water. “So what would you do, Billy? You think Ian will let this drop?”
“Of course, he won’t let it drop.” He said rinsing soap off a plate and slipping it in the dishwasher. “Not unless it gives finality to the whole thing. You said it just brought up more questions in your mind. Is this investigation still open?”
Sparky shook her head. “No. The case is closed, and from their prospective I understand. It’s just this one stray loose end bothers me and I know it will bug the hell out of Ian.”
“You want to tell me about it?” Billy shut the dishwasher door and hit the start button.
“On the condition that this remains between the two of us. You cannot say anything to Ian until I decide what to do.” She squeezed excess water out of a dishrag and wiped off the table.
“My lips are sealed.” Billy came behind her with a dry towel.
“Are you familiar with the drug Rohypnol?” She turned at leaned against the counter.
“I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know what it’s for. Why?” Billy folded the used cloths up and dropped them into a laundry bag in the pantry.
“It’s more commonly known as the date rape drug.” Sparky told him. “It can be dropped into someone’s drink, has virtually no taste and within minutes causes, in some cases, a complete lack of inhibitions.”
Billy nodded his head and crossed his arms. “I understand. What does this have to do with...?" Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”
“The autopsy on Kyle Osbourne not only showed that he had it in his system, but says he had ingested massive amounts within an hour before he died.”
“So he was abusing drugs?” Billy said.
“That’s the logical theory.” Sparky said. “But the autopsy stated there seamed to be little or no signs of long term abuse. So one of two things occurred. Having Ian around stressed Kyle out, so he popped something from the medicine cabinet hoping to calm down and got the opposite reaction.”
“But why would the Osbournes have something like that in the medicine cabinet?”
“My point exactly.” Sparky said. “Then there’s the other possibility, Kyle ate or drank something that was deliberately laced with Rohypnol.”
“Which brings up the questions who would do that, where did it come from and…”
“Was it even meant for Kyle?” Sparky sighed. Her attention was immediately diverted to the four-year-old sliding back into the kitchen across the hardwood floors in her sock feet.
“Kin I have pie now?”
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