Dying to Retire by Jessica Fletcher Page B

looking for poison, asking me all kinds of questions. Even took my computer with him.” He stopped and looked up, his eyes going back and forth from Seth to me, his body suddenly rigid. “Are you working for the police?”
    “No,” I said. “We’re not.”
    “We’re old friends of Portia’s; we told you that,” Seth said. “And I was her doctor for thirty-five years, and—”
    “And we’re upset that she died,” I interrupted, fearing Seth would launch into a lecture on the dangers of self-medication and the questionable value of herbal supplements. While I didn’t disagree with him, it was not what Clarence needed to hear at the moment. “You said the police are on your back. Why is that?”
    “This detective who came was irritated with me that I couldn’t find all of Portia’s pillboxes. She had three of them, and now one of them is missing. The police want to know where it is. I can’t find it. He’s called twice to ask me about it.”
    I glanced at Seth.
    “I can answer that question for you,” Seth said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the white pillbox he’d taken from Portia’s dresser.
    Clarence looked stunned. “How did you get that?”
    “I took it from your bedroom the other night,” Seth said. His face was red, and I knew he was embarrassed. “I found a few pills in it I wasn’t happy to see, and I brought one to the pharmacist to confirm what it was.”
    “You stole her pillbox?” Clarence was up on his feet, pacing. “The police have been all over me, suspecting me of God knows what, and all the time you had her pillbox?”
    “I apologize,” Seth said. “I’ll call the police and tell them I was the one who took it.”
    “You’re darn right you will,” Clarence said, pointing his finger at Seth. “You can call them right now. Wait a minute. What pills? What pills made you unhappy?”
    “They were diet pills.”
    “How do you know they were diet pills? What did they look like?”
    “They were little blue pills,” I said.
    “She didn’t have any blue pills,” Clarence said.
    “Seth took one from her pillbox and showed it to the pharmacist, who said it was a combination of ephedra and caffeine,” I said. “He also said it would be very dangerous for someone who had a heart condition.”
    Clarence fell back on the sofa, his face even paler than when we’d entered. “So it’s true,” he whispered. “Why would she do that? Why would she keep it from me?”
    “You didn’t know she was taking diet pills?” I asked.
    “No. I still don’t believe it.”
    “Did she ever mention to you that she wanted to lose weight?”
    “Never.”
    “Was she self-conscious about her body?”
    “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t notice those things. She was no great beauty. She knew that. But it never bothered me, and I never thought she was unhappy about it. It was refreshing for me to be with a woman who didn’t make a fuss about her looks. I told her that. It was one of the things I liked so much about her.” He labored to hold back tears.
    I debated asking him about his reputation as a ladies’ man. Two people had remarked on it, and Amelia had even suggested that Clarence had had an affair with Monica while he was married to Portia. Was it true? Or was it just the kind of vicious gossip that people with too little to occupy themselves will indulge in? Was Clarence the kind of man who needed attention from a lot of women? He was certainly good-looking, and it was easy to see he had already attracted a harem, ready to step into Portia’s place.
    Portia had been a plain woman, but a warm and kindhearted one, and someone who stood up for what she thought was right. Clarence must have appreciated that. He’d married her. Or had he been looking for something more, someone with enough money to support him, perhaps? No one had mentioned Portia’s will, but she had no other family than Clarence. It stood to reason that he would inherit whatever was