“Head hurts.” It did, so much that I had to close my eyes even though it was dark outside.
“Another symptom. You’re going to be fine but there’s no discussion about the hospital.” He sounded scared.
Why is everyone so scared? I’m the one who found the dead body.
I sighed. It was too difficult to say words out loud. The pain in my head intensified and there were tiny sparks in my eyes. A nap. I really needed a nap.
Jake was yelling and George started barking, but I was so sleepy.
*
When I woke up, there were a lot of bright lights and it was finally warm. But someone had driven a railroad spike through my head. I had to close my eyes again.
“Jake.” My throat was dry and sore.
“She’s awake,” someone said. “Jake’s just outside. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”
Words still seemed so hard. So I pointed to my head. A mask was placed on my face, and there was a prick on my hand.
“Dim the lights,” the voice said. “Ainsley, I’m Dr. Kline. I want you to blink if you understand me.”
My eyelids felt like fifty-pound weights but I blinked.
“Good. Your blood pressure is high. That’s what’s causing the pain in your head. We’ve given you something for that. You will be fine—Jake brought you in fast enough for us to stop what was happening. The medicine will make you sleepy. Don’t fight it. The quickest way to heal is to sleep.”
I didn’t have a choice—the darkness was already swallowing me whole.
*
“Ainsley McGregor, you need to wake up so I can murder you,” Shannon said. “Jake, the doctor said she should be awake right now.”
“My sister never does the expected,” Greg chimed in.
“Rest is important,” Jake said firmly. “She had a big shock.” His large hand squeezed mine.
Why was everyone in my room? And what was the shock?
The blood. The body.
I sat up straight gasping for air.
Shannon screamed.
I forced my eyes to open, as big arms wrapped around me. “You’re okay, Ainsley,” Jake said calmly. “You’re in the hospital. You went into shock last night. But your vitals are good. They gave you some drugs for your blood pressure and migraine, which made you sleepy. But you’re fine.”
I wasn’t sure if he was reassuring me or himself.
Shannon started laughing. “I’m so sorry I screamed. You scared the toot out of me,” she said. And then her arms were around me as well. “I’ve been so scared. Jake said you were very sick last night. When you didn’t answer my 137 calls, I was worried you were dead.”
“Water,” I croaked. Swallowing gravel might have been easier than talking.
Jake put a straw to my lips and the cold water was such a relief. Then he raised the head of the bed so I could lean back.
“George?” I stared at Jake.
He smiled. “He’s with Mike at the winery.” Mike was Shannon’s husband and one of George’s favorite humans.
“What happened?” I whispered hoarsely.
“A lot,” Shannon said, and then cut her eyes to Greg.
“What did you do?” I asked.
He sighed. “I brought your friend Lizzie in for questioning. For the record, she was much more concerned for you than she was the victim in her bakery.”
My brain was still fuzzy and his words didn’t make sense. “Lizzie was with Shannon.”
“That’s what I said,” my friend commented. “She was with us the whole time. There’s no way she could have killed him.”
They thought Lizzie killed someone? It wasn’t possible. She was the kindest soul I’d ever met and treated everyone who walked in her shop as a long-lost friend she was happy to see.
I rubbed my head.
“That’s it. You two are out of here,” Jake said firmly. I’d never seen him so angry. “The last thing she needs right now is to get upset again. You both know better.”
“Sorry,” Shannon said. “Please don’t make me leave. I won’t talk about it.”
“When did you get so bossy?” I asked. My throat hurt but not quite as bad as it did before the water.
Greg nodded. “I’ll go check with the doctor to see if we can get you checked out. You’ll rest better at home.”
“Wait.” I held up my left hand and then I closed my eyes and flashes of the scene the night before zoomed through my brain. “Mrs. Whedon. Is she okay?”
I opened my eyes to find Greg, Shannon, and Jake all staring at one another.
“What’s going on? Tell me.”
A tear slid down Shannon’s cheek.
Oh. No. This wasn’t good.
Chapter Three
My brother, best friend, and the man I loved, refused to tell me anything. They all just stood around my hospital bed staring at the floor.
“Tell me. Making me worry isn’t going to help. You said you aren’t supposed to stress me out.”
Jake took a deep breath. “Ainsley, I don’t think you understand what just happened to you. Severe shock can shut down your organs.”
“If Jake hadn’t brought you in, it might have been really bad,” Greg said.
They were ignoring my question.
“Shannon. Tell me what is going on.”
She glanced up at Jake, who shook his head.
“I’m stressing out more not knowing. Just tell me. This is ridiculous.” My voice was shrill and not at all like me. I swung my legs over to the side of the bed, determined to find out what happened.
My vision blurred and I had to close my eyes again. It didn’t keep me from yelling at them. “I don’t know why I went into shock last night. As you all know, it wasn’t my first time to run into something like that. But I need to know the truth. And I need to know it now.”
“I promised,” Shannon said, as she glanced at Jake again.
“Jake, I love you, but someone better tell me the truth. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Gran, I mean, Mrs. Whedon, and Becky, Lizzie’s assistant baker, were both in the freezer at the bakery. The doctors say you saved their lives.”
Thank goodness. Gran was alive. I searched through my memories of the previous night, but I didn’t remember seeing the assistant. “Is Becky okay?”
Shannon nodded. “She was released from the hospital last night.”
“I don’t understand why Gran was there.” She was in her eighties and I could have sworn she had a date with the judge last night.
Though, most of yesterday and last night was still a jumble in my brain.
We’d been talking about the float. They all went home, and then I took George for a walk.
“We’re not sure,” Greg said. “We’re still trying to put a timeline together.”
“Why can’t you just ask her?” As soon as I said the words, my stomach churned. Tears burned as they fell to my cheeks. “You said she’s alive. Did you lie?” That last bit came out as a croak.
“She’s in a coma,” Jake said quickly. “She took a pretty good whack to the head. The doctors think she’ll be fine, but she is older. They don’t know what state she’ll be in when she wakes up. The extent of her injuries can’t be fully addressed until she’s lucid.”
But she’s alive.
Gran was the toughest woman I’d ever met. If she was alive, she’d be fighting. I believed that with my whole soul.
“I need to see her. Now.”
Once again, they all looked at one another.
I cocked my head in much the same way George does when he thinks I’m acting weird.
“We’ll make it happen,” Jake said.
Shannon helped me dress. Jake had been thoughtful enough to bring me a clean T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Not long after Shannon braided my curly hair, I signed the discharge papers. I was more embarrassed than anything. It wasn’t like I’d never seen a dead body or blood before.
It was all so weir
d.
“You’ll have to ride in one of these,” Jake said as he pushed a wheelchair in.
I shook my head.
“Hospital policy,” the nurse said coming in behind him. “The doctor asked if you could stay put for five minutes. She’s finishing with a patient and wants to speak with you before you go.”
“I really need to see a friend of mine. Can it wait?”
The nurse shook her head. “She wants to talk to about your condition.”
Jake and Shannon whipped around.
“My condition?” Was I dying? Is that why I went into shock? My heart beat double-time and my palms sweated.
Stop being so dramatic. I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down.
“The doctor will explain.” Then she handed me the discharge papers and left.
“Ains, is there something you need to tell us?” Shannon asked. “Well, maybe, Jake first and then me right after?” She smiled.
My brain was still slow and I had no idea what she was talking about. Jake had a weird smile on his face. “What? I don’t understand.”
Shannon laughed.
The doctor came in holding a folder. She was dressed in scrubs and was short. With her close-cropped pixyish hair, she reminded me of an elf.
“Hi, Ainsley, good to see you up and around. I’m Dr. Kline. I treated you when you came in.”
“Hi, and thank you.” I was so woozy when I came in that I didn’t remember much. I reached out and Jake took my hand, giving me strength for whatever was to come.
“You’re, welcome. There is something I need to discuss with you before you go.” She stared pointedly at Jake and Shannon.
“It’s okay. They’re family,” I said. I didn’t want to be alone if it was bad news.
“Your brother explained what you saw last night. But he says that usually doesn’t bother you.”
I nodded. Though, it always bothered me, and often haunted me in my nightmares.
“In the past few weeks have you felt light-headed or dizzy?”
“Yes, she has,” Jake answered for me. “Remember when you got up off the couch the other night? You were dizzy.”
“And tired,” Shannon added. “She’s been very tired lately.”
“Right. That all makes sense. I ran several blood tests and your blood sugars were very low when you came in. I’m curious what you ate yesterday, if you can remember.”
“She had an iced dirty chai latte and a chocolate chip muffin for breakfast,” Shannon said. I’d stopped for my regular on the way into the shop.
The doctor looked from her to me, and I nodded.
“And for lunch?”
“Um. I fed George, my dog, and then we got really busy at the store. We had a meeting after we closed, and I ate more cookies from the bakery than I should have because I was hungry. I usually don’t miss meals. I was meeting my friends that night and we always have a ton a food, so I wasn’t really worried about it.”
“Right. I thought that might be the case. It makes sense.”
Not to me, but I was curious about this condition. She didn’t seem worried, so, I’d crossed imminent death off my list.
Jake squeezed my hand and I glanced up at him. He smiled, not looking upset or anything. Maybe he knew what was wrong.
“What’s likely happening is your diet is sending your sugars up too high, and then you’re crashing. And when you don’t eat, that’s just as bad for someone who is hypoglycemic.”
“I don’t normally go without meals,” I repeated, and then smiled.
“That’s good. I brought this folder for you. You need to keep an eye on your sugar intake. You don’t have to give anything up, just not quite as much sugar as you ingested yesterday, and you need to eat protein every few hours to keep those levels even. It’s not a big deal at all, you just have to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
She handed me the folder. “It’s important to get this under control for many reasons. We’ve seen links to diabetes, and if your sugars are too low or too high, it can affect your organs.”
“I—uh. This sounds like a big deal to me.”
She smiled. “You will be fine. That’s why I put this folder together with tips for you to keep those sugars where they need to be. It’s possible that you crashed, and that, combined with what you saw, which I understand was gruesome, was the perfect storm.
“You seem to have a good support system, so I suggest you all read the items in the folder. You didn’t have a primary care physician listed in your records. You’re welcome to come see me.” She handed me a card. “But no matter what, you’ll need to see someone in the next month for some blood tests.”
After she left, Greg walked back in.
“Why are you all staring at the door?”
“The doc was just here. Ains has hypo something,” Shannon said. “She can’t eat cake for breakfast anymore.”
I frowned.
Jake chuckled. “She can, as long as she eats eggs too.”
“Ewwww,” I said.
Greg gave us his you people are weird stare. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about. But I did get you on the list, as well as everyone on the shop, for visitation rights to see Gran, I mean, Mrs. Whedon,” he said.
I’d wondered where he’d been. “Thanks.”
“She’s still in ICU, and the nurse said only one person at a time.”
Jake wheeled me down the hall to Mrs. Whedon’s room. Someone had put an afghan across the hospital blankets. It was in her signature avocado.
Peggy, Don’s wife and one of the loveliest souls in Sweet River, sat beside the bed doing some sort of needlework and chatting as if she and Mrs. Whedon were having a conversation.
She glanced up and smiled. “Well, look at that. Jake is pushing our Ainsley in a wheelchair.”
“Hi,” I said.
Peggy waved us up to the bed. Gran had so many bandages on her head, it almost looked like a turban. And she was so pale against the pillow.
I swallowed hard. The last thing she needed was me blubbering.
“Jake, why don’t we give them a minute,” Peggy said. “You go on and talk to her, Ainsley. The doctors say it’s good. There’s a chance she’s listening but just can’t wake up yet.”
I nodded, unable to say anything because there was a giant frog in my throat and tears streamed down my cheeks.
The door shut softly, and I took her cold hand in mine.
“I need you to get well. Do you hear me, Gran? I can’t lose you.”
I leaned down and kissed her knobby fingers. She didn’t need me sobbing like a child. I took some tissues from the side table by the bed and cleaned up my face.
“Sorry. I’m used to you bouncing around and telling me what to do with my life. It’s weird to see you still and quiet. That only happens when you’re mad most of the time. But here’s the deal. You get well, and I’ll find the person who did this to you.
“We’re going to make them pay, Gran. I promise you that. Nobody hurts my family.”
Chapter Four
The next morning, after a breakfast of eggs and bacon, which Jake had made me, I set off for town. I had a cooler bag full of healthy lunch and snack items he’d put together. And instructions that he would text me every few hours to make sure I was taking care of myself.
If they need a king for the Mother Hen Club, he would totally win.
My first stop was the hospital.
I sat with Gran telling her about all the snacks, and how he’d deemed himself my new chef and nutritionist. I might have been offended, but it all came from love. He was so worried about losing me, and it was just beyond sweet. It had taken a great deal of coercing to convince him to let me drive myself into town.
When Maria, Carrie’s mom, showed up, I left to give my brother the grand inquisition he deserved. He’d refused to take my calls the night before. As my brain came back online, I had a list of questions.
Greg texted Jake and said he was busy wo
rking the case. That was my brother’s code for: Stay out of it, Ainsley.
Jake wasn’t particularly helpful, since he too felt I should stay out of things and rest as much as possible. He wanted me to stay home today, but I was fine. And I had to find out what happened.
It was like they didn’t even know me.
Greg couldn’t avoid me if I was standing in front of his desk.
“Morning, Ainsley.” Kevin was at the front counter, which is where Greg liked to keep him. He was a nice guy but his skills as a deputy were questionable.
I waved as I passed by. If I asked for permission, Greg would make some excuse not to see me. His light was on, so I soldiered on.
I sat down in the chair in front of my brother’s desk, while he typed on a computer and tried to ignore me. I’d learned one of his tricks, though: the silent game. The longer the silence went on, the bigger the chance that someone would say something. He used it on suspects and criminals all the time.
He sighed. “Fine. What do you want?”
“To know who tried to kill Gran.”
“You know I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”
“You brought Lizzie in for questioning. Tell me why.”
“I told you she isn’t a suspect at the moment. She was with your friends, but Kane is still working on time of death. And with him, everything has to be exactly perfect numbers wise before he’ll even hint at what it is. Lizzie was familiar with the murdered man. We have no suspects right now.”
“You know I’m going to ask her exactly what she said to you. Why not tell me?”
He squinted and then rubbed his forehead. More than once he’d blamed my incessant questions for a headache. He had no idea how far I’d go this time.
Someone had hurt Gran. I wasn’t into vendettas, but harming an old woman was a no-brainer when it came to making people pay.
“You can at least tell me who the dead man is. It will be announced in the paper tomorrow. I heard the nurses talking at the hospital this morning.”
“Morton Gallagher. He was your friend Lizzie’s ex-husband.”
I didn’t know Lizzie had been married.
“Do you have any other info? And why would someone want to kill him?”
A Case for the Cookie Baker Page 2
