by Hannah Reed
Should I say something to Vicki? But if she wanted me to know, wouldn’t she have told me? Did this explain her reaction when I’d popped in unannounced? Had I almost caught her passing e-mails behind my back?
The immature little girl who resides inside me struggled not to be hurt at the thought that my two best friends were getting close. But they didn’t tell me. Didn’t they want to include me anymore?
The big girl in the room popped up and snorted, giving the floor to the woman, who wisely decided to let it go. For now. There had to be a logical explanation.
The clanging of metal food trays and squeaking of approaching wheels brought me back to the present moment. I caught a flash of navy blue, the standard hospital uniform, and soon after rose to check on Katie. She was sitting up with a tray in front of her. When she spotted me, she smiled.
“I thought I’d check on you,” I said, not mentioning that we’d been keeping tabs on her round the clock.
“I can go home in the morn.”
“I heard and that’s great news. Well, eat your meal. I’ll stop in again later.”
“No, please. I’m not very hungry. Keep me company.”
“Only if you eat while we talk. I had something earlier,” I lied. Unless I counted the toast at the inn. The few pieces of remaining bakery in the waiting room were going to have to hold me over until morning unless I hit up some vending machines later or made a run for the snack shop. I hadn’t thought this through very carefully. A change of clothes would have been smart. And a small overnight bag.
“My parents are coming in the morning tae collect me,” Katie said. “That head nurse shooed them off, so they went back tae Tainwick fer the night.”
“They must be relieved. Do you remember what happened?”
Ignoring her food tray, Katie told me what she knew about the assault, which wasn’t much other than she’d heard a sound and gone to investigate, and that was the last she remembered until she woke up here. It only confirmed the small amount of information I already had acquired from her friend Gayle.
“The night o’ the tasting, Bridie Dougal suggested that you and I get together,” Katie said, picking at her food after my insistence, pushing it around with her fork. One of the hospital staff in the navy blue uniform was straightening up in the bathroom as we talked, proving that there was no such thing as privacy in a hospital. Or any real rest.
“She did, did she, and why is that?” I said with a light laugh. “And just so you’re aware, she’s a bit of a troublemaker.”
Katie laughed along. “I gathered that. High drama and all. When we were deciding on the menu for the tasting, I realized what a character she is. When I told her about the book I hoped tae write one day, using actual stories from the Highlands, she thought you might be inspiration for me. You’re actually published!”
“Not yet.” I went on to explain about my work and gave her a tentative timeline for publication. “Next summer,” I said. “But what I do and what you are thinking of doing are very different types of writing. I doubt that I’d be helpful.”
“But they both involve research.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “and every story is a mystery, in a way.”
“Mysteries are what got me started. When I was researching my own family, then went on with some of the local families, I discovered that almost all the histories had gaps, unknowns, mysterious things that were never resolved. It fueled my imagination.”
“A vivid imagination is a great gift,” I said. “I’d like to talk more about your ideas, but right now you need to rest.”
“Perhaps sometime soon. You could give me yer opinion.”
“Maybe,” I said, knowing that most likely we wouldn’t meet again in the short time I had left. Katie would return to Tainwick to recuperate, and I’d continue to work the murder case with the inspector.
“I don’t remember yer name,” Katie said. “I’ve been trying, but I just can’t. Maybe it’s because o’ the blow tae my head.”
Thinking back to the tasting, I wasn’t sure I’d thought to offer it. “Eden,” I said.
“I’m glad ye visited me, Eden.”
CHAPTER 17
Settled on a comfortable sofa in the small waiting room right across the hall from the patient’s room, fortified with a sweet roll and a cup of tea from the service counter, I thought about Katie’s research and how this latest murder was one of those mysterious events that she might end up writing about, especially if we didn’t solve the case—although I was confident that we would with Inspector Jamieson at the helm. Still, Henrietta McCloud could very likely make an appearance of some sort in the young woman’s future work.
I was the only one in this particular waiting room. The inspector had arranged to keep other visitors away from Katie’s area. I considered turning on the television for company. But someone from the staff offered me a pillow and blanket, which I gratefully accepted, and I promptly decided I was sleepy. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized that it was only midafternoon, but in these winter months when dark descends as early as three thirty, nights are extremely long. This one coming up might prove to be my longest ever.
I’d given up one of my precious last days for this. What I should have done was let Sean and Vicki suffer through another twenty-four hours without each other. In the morning Katie would leave. Sean and Vicki would have lots of tomorrows in their future together. The generosity I’d felt earlier drained away, leaving me annoyed.
And sleepy.
But what good is a security guard who isn’t conscious? Which made me wonder how Sean did it, so I called him.
“And tae whom do I have the pleasure o’ speakin’?” he asked.
“You didn’t stay awake through the whole night, did you?” I said, without preamble. Sean knew exactly to whom he was speaking.
“Course not. I wouldn’t be human if I had, would I?”
I wanted to point out that that was part of the job, staying alert for trouble. But how could one person accomplish that without backup relief?
Sean explained, “During the day when there’s a lot o’ activity, if ye need some shut-eye, ye tell the head nurse that ye are takin’ a bit o’ a snooze, and they aren’t tae let anybody near the room who doesn’t belong.”
“Shouldn’t I move into her room in that case?”
“No, no, no, that would alert her tae the fact that the powers that be are worried about her safety.”
“Which we are.”
“Tae a small degree, is all. The patient needs tae stay calm. Havin’ police protection in her room won’t help that, now will it?” After a brief pause, he remembered the most important part of the equation. “As tae the nighttime, I forgot tae inform ye earlier that her room is tricked.”
“Tricked?”
“Aye, once the door is closed.” He paused to ask, “Is it closed right noo?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then, if anybody were tae enter, it alerts the nurse desk and somebody will come runnin’. They can turn it off anytime they want tae check on her.”
“Thanks, that’s helpful.”
I hung up, miffed with Sean. What if I’d peeked in? It would have triggered the alarm. Although I was relieved that the “trick” was in place. That meant I could get some decent rest without worrying.
This gig was turning out to be a gravy job. Or rather it would be if I were actually being paid like Sean was. I’d have to speak with the inspector about hazard pay. I grinned at that and was reminded that I hadn’t phoned him about the switch with Sean. At the moment, it didn’t seem as important as a few minutes to rest my eyes.
Arranging myself in a comfortable position, I felt myself starting to float in fluffy dreamy clouds, sinking into the pillow, my breathing evening out.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I was startled awake. My eyes po
pped open. Someone had turned off the overhead lights in the waiting room and had closed the door partway. A beam of light shone on the floor from the hall lights. What time was it? How long had I been asleep?
Instantly my mind flashed to Katie, worried until I remembered about the tricked door and the alarm system at the nurses’ desk. I sat up suddenly and sensed a rush of motion over my left shoulder. Something slammed into the pillow where my head had been resting moments before.
It happened so fast, in such a whoosh of movement. From the corner of my eye, before I had time to turn and face my attacker, I sensed something descending again. I raised my arm to deflect any blows as I slid from the sofa to the floor. A rush of air told me I’d been quick enough, but barely.
I found my voice long enough to shout, “Get away from me!”
I screamed. Then tried to remember where I’d stashed the pepper spray. But my mind was blank.
Later I would chastise myself for reacting by squealing instead of swinging. But reflexes kicked in and my survival instincts were in high gear. So I went on screaming, keeping my arm raised, and swiveled on the floor to face my attacker. All I saw was a dark shadow moving away, caught a glimpse of white shoes and navy trousers before the person who had intended to harm me was out the door.
I rose to my feet and scrambled through a pocket for the pepper spray, intending to give chase. But by the time I reached the door and had protection in hand, the hallway was deserted, except for several nurses and aides I didn’t recognize hurrying toward me.
The night shift had swung into action.
I turned my head in the opposite direction and caught the tail end of an exit door swinging shut. But by then, the help I’d shouted for was surrounding me, questioning my motives, wrestling the spray out of my hand, and standing firmly between me and the exit door. No one was sure if I was the source of the shouts for help or if I was the cause, and they weren’t about to let me go off without explaining myself.
By the time I managed to convince them that I was the victim of an assault, pursuit was too late. Which probably worked out for the best.
What had I planned on doing if I caught up? Pound the first person I encountered wearing a navy blue hospital uniform? And with what? With the baton I wasn’t carrying? Or maybe I would have shot off a round of pepper spray only to discover I’d zapped the wrong person, and experience the wrath of Jamieson descending on me?
Once I convinced Katie’s night nurse that I was on the same side, I opened Katie’s door, hearing a buzzer sounding down the hall. The nurse gave me a scowl before heading toward the desk to turn it off.
“What’s going on?” I heard Katie’s sleepy voice. “Who’s there?”
“Everything okay in here?” I affected a bit of a Scottish accent and kept hidden in the shadows, not wanting to alarm her.
“Aye, but, I thought I heard screaming.”
“A bad dream, probably. Do you need anything?”
“No.”
Katie was safe. That was the most important thing.
I would have phoned the inspector next, but hospital security had arrived, and I was informed that he was already on his way. He found me at a little after seven o’clock in the semidark of the waiting room with my eyes peeled on Katie’s room and the canister of pepper spray in my hand.
“A bit o’ excitement?” he said, taking a seat beside me, his eyes serious, concerned.
“My life flashed before my eyes.”
“A surgical hammer was found in the stairwell. Now, ye better start at the beginnin’.”
I told him what I knew.
“It was either a member of the hospital staff,” I said, finishing, “or someone dressed to play the part.”
“It wouldn’t be difficult tae dress appropriately in navy tae pass yerself off as a member o’ the medical community,” he agreed.
“I never expected it.”
“Ye can put away the pepper spray. Ye won’t be needin’ it. As soon as the call came in, I ordered hospital security tae check the premises; that’s when they found the hammer but no sign of an intruder. It would take a halfwit to still be lurkin’ aboot. I’m supposing we won’t find prints on the weapon.”
“I think I remember a glimpse of a glove, so probably not, but I can’t be sure. It happened so fast.”
“Ye’re safe now.”
“Why attack me?” I said aloud, voicing the question that had plagued me since the encounter. “Why not go right into Katie’s room? Whoever this was probably wasn’t aware of the door alarm. Even if this individual did know, it would have been a simple matter to disable it disguised as one of the staff. Why go after me?”
The inspector frowned. “What are ye doin’ here anyhoo? Ye should be snug in yer own cottage and Constable Stevens should be in this room.”
“I decided to spell Sean so he could be with Vicki.” A thought occurred to me. “Do you think those hammer blows were meant for him?”
“Anybody with eyes in their head could have told the difference between the two o’ ye, able tae get a good look while lurkin’ in the room while ye were sleepin’.”
A good point. And creepy to think about. If I hadn’t awoken when I did, I could be dead.
“Noo I’d like to know,” he continued, sharper now. “Who approved this change o’ orders? I must be goin’ dotty, because I don’t recall it coming from me.”
“I apologize,” I said, meaning it. If I’d kept my nose out of it, I wouldn’t have been alone in the waiting room and none of this would have happened. “I wasn’t thinking that it was a big deal.”
“And now ’tis a big deal.”
“But why would anyone go after me? Katie’s supposed to be the one needing protection.”
“Have ye noticed anything unusual lately in yer goin’ aboot?”
“Like someone watching me or following me? No.”
“Who knew ye were comin’ here tae take over fer Sean?”
I thought about that. “No one, other than Vicki. I hinted at it this morning.”
“Someone found out. But ye haven’t been on guard fer that sort o’ thing, either, have ye?”
Why would I have? The inspector and Sean didn’t go around looking over their shoulders, afraid that evil lurked in every shadow, waiting to pounce. I shuddered at the thought of someone preying on me. Biding their time. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“What have ye done, Eden Elliott,” he said, “tae cause someone tae take this kind o’ risk tae take ye out o’ the picture once and fer all? If that hammer had—”
He didn’t have to finish; we both were aware of how close I’d come. All I could do was shake my head in utter confusion.
Henrietta McCloud was dead, Katie Taylor had been attacked, and now it had been my turn.
We were interrupted by the entrance of Sean. And he wasn’t happy that his romantic interlude had been cut short. “Leave ye with a simple task,” he said to me, “and what comes o’ it? More trouble, that’s wha’, and me havin’ tae pick up the pieces.”
“Are ye aware o’ what transpired here, Constable Stevens?” the inspector asked.
“Not yet, since ye didn’t elaborate when ye ordered me tae appear. I imagine the special constable isn’t likin’ the duty and is requesting her leave.”
We filled him in. Sean grew noticeably quieter.
“Ye’re officially relieved o’ duty, Special Constable Elliott,” Sean said, showing a humbler side than usual. “Or maybe we’ve been standin’ guard over the wrong woman!”
“I can finish out here tonight,” I said.
“Ye’re finished,” Sean insisted. “I wouldn’t leave ye alone. Vicki would have me head on a platter and serve me up!”
The inspector and I exchanged glances. He gave me a wink. In spite of my underlying fear, I found comfort in that simple show o
f support.
CHAPTER 18
Morning’s first light brought with it more new snow that had fallen during the night, a light dusting that left the scenery outside my window glistening as the sun rose over the hills. The fire had gone out sometime in the very early morning, and without that warmth to counter the chill in the air, I stayed in bed longer than usual, enjoying the warmth of my comforter and Snookie’s body beside me.
The fact that I’d been able to sleep amazed me. But after going over the scene in the waiting room again and again, I wasn’t any closer to understanding why it had happened, other than that it had to have something to do with the murder investigation.
And it had been more than a warning note written out. Much more. What had I learned to cause that violent reaction? Or was I on the verge of a discovery?
Eventually, I forced myself out of my cocoon, restarted the fire, put on coffee, fed Snookie, ate a hot bowl of porridge, and prepared for a new day. I refused to allow myself to continue to dwell on yesterday evening’s assault. Instead I concentrated on the murder case, rationalizing that only by solving the case would I find out why I’d been targeted at the hospital.
Sitting beside the fire with my cup of coffee, I phoned Bridie Dougal. When she answered, I identified myself and spent a few minutes talking of the weather forecast, which called for a cold front bringing more wintry conditions and more of those colorful warnings. Bridie seemed delighted with the possibility of going from the yellow of aware, through amber to prepare, and touching on red, which meant prepare for the worst. When she ran out of weather topics, I got around to the real reason for my call.
“There’s been some mention of an unpleasant side to Henrietta,” I said. “And I’m hoping you can clear that up for me one way or the other.”
“People love tae cause mischief,” Bridie, a bit on the impish side herself, said. “Henrietta’s old ways o’ dealing with life, why that’s fiddler’s news.”
Another expression I was familiar with after almost half a year in the Highlands. Bridie was telling me that was old news.
