Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 2)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  "When we first spoke on the phone, you seemed surprised when I asked if she was confused. You said she hadn't been, then later you changed your mind."

  "She was as lucid as you or I when she came in that day. Then later, she changed. It wasn't the fever, at least not then."

  "Could it have been a medication?”

  "Not to my knowledge. I suppose someone could have given her something, but I don't see..."

  "When she was lucid, did she tell you anything?"

  "I…maybe. I remember her grabbing my hand and pulling me close to her. She said she needed to talk to me later in private."

  "So there were others in the room."

  "Oh yes. Paul, David, Mai, Adriane, Chris and some staff members, but I don't remember who. Everyone was worried and trying to figure out what to do for her. Irene was so weak and sick."

  "Did you ever get to talk to her privately?"

  "Yes, but by that time nothing she said made any sense. She seemed afraid of everyone. Wouldn't sleep. She even accused me of poisoning her when I hooked up her antibiotic. We had to keep her sedated or she'd rip out the IVs."

  "Did you suspect she might be telling the truth?"

  "Not then. I didn't believe for a moment that anyone at Edgewood would harm Irene. Now I'm not so sure. Still, the autopsy would have shown something, wouldn't it?"

  "Not necessarily. Let's suppose for a moment someone did poison her. Do you have any idea who?"

  Stephanie closed her eyes. "No. I'm sorry Mrs. Bradley, but I need to get back to work. As it is, I'm way over my break time."

  "Just one more question. Did Irene say anything to you about a disk?"

  She thought for a moment before answering. "I don't remember anything like that."

  Helen stayed on the bench after Stephanie left, wondering just how much of Stephanie's story she could believe. She finally stood, then did some stretching exercises to loosen up her tense shoulders and walked about a mile down the trail before heading back.

  When she returned, Jason was waiting for her in the courtyard. He'd stretched out on a lounge chair and didn't bother getting up when she walked toward him. "You're looking rather pleased with yourself," Helen said.

  "I am. We just found the car that was used to run down Jack Owens. And we've made an arrest. Looks like my job out here is finished."

  Helen folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Really? And are you going to tell me who that is?"

  "Paul Kincaid."

  "What?"

  "You heard me." Jason unfolded himself from the chair and stood up. "He's denying it, of course, but we have enough evidence to make an arrest."

  Helen frowned. "That may be, but Paul didn't fire those shots at me the other night. In case you hadn't noticed, he's about the same height as Jack."

  "True, but he may have hired someone, just like he did to gun down his mother and you. If you'll recall that guy had a record too and ended up dead before we could apprehend him. I may never be able to make those charges stick, but we've definitely got him on the hit-and-run. His car had bloodstains on the steering wheel. Jack's I'll bet. And he has no alibi. Claims he was home alone. The DA says we have enough evidence to charge him. I'm satisfied."

  "Oh, I don't know, Jason. Somehow I can't imagine Paul Kincaid using his own car to kill Jack. Have you talked to Sammi?"

  "Sammi?"

  Helen's pulse started to race. "She left here over an hour ago. Said she had an appointment with you."

  Jason shook his head. "I haven't seen her."

  Helen quickly repeated the conversation she'd had with Sammi earlier. "She left here around one. I saw her talking to Paul just before she left. You don't suppose he…" Helen left the sentence unfinished. "When did you arrest him?"

  "Just a few minutes ago, down at the gate."

  "He was leaving?"

  "No. Coming back." Their gazes collided.

  "He went after her," Helen gasped.

  "Let's not jump to conclusions. Could be she decided to run. It takes a lot of guts for someone in a public position to face the music."

  "I don't think so. Sammi wouldn't have confessed everything to me if she intended to skip town. I'm worried."

  Jason whipped out his cellular phone and put out an all-points bulletin for Sammi and her rental car, and he sent an officer to check her residence. After signing off, he told his mother not to worry and gave her a hug. "I'll call as soon as I hear anything," he said, then took off, leaving Helen to grope through a case that seemed to get muddier by the minute.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Forty-five long minutes after sending Jason to find Sammi, Helen's phone rang. She grabbed it before it could ring again. "Jason?"

  "Yeah. Ah… listen, Mom. We haven't been able to track Sammi down. No one's seen her since she left Edgewood. We'll keep looking. The guard says Sammi waited for Kincaid just inside the entrance. Then he followed her out. I hate to say this, but I think Dr. Fergeson may have been the one who used you for target practice."

  "That doesn't make sense."

  "If Kincaid knew about her confession to you, he may have made her an offer she couldn't refuse. Money and a comfortable hacienda in exchange for her silence."

  "I doubt that. Why purge her conscience with me if she in-tended to leave town?"

  "Who knows? Anyway, we'll find her. We have the state police alerted and we're checking the airlines."

  "Keep me posted."

  "I will. By the way, you'll be happy to know that Lucy confessed. Actually, she didn't have much choice. Our search warrant turned up a bunch of the residents' missing articles. She had enough stuff in her apartment to open a department store."

  Helen sighed. "How sad. It's hard to imagine someone would take advantage of older people that way."

  "Yeah. I'll say one thing, Mom, when you're right, you're right. I'm glad you decided to investigate. One thing though, she denies having anything to do with Jack's operation."

  Helen felt weary. After saying good-bye to her son, she sank onto the bed, wondering how many more low-life creatures she'd find under the rocks she'd overturned. And now there was Sammi.

  She could very well have been the one who shot at her. Helen was beginning to suspect that Chris Chang's assessment of Sammi may have been closer to the truth than her own. Had her old friend been so enamored with the Kincaids and their money that she'd kill to be a part of it?

  But the explosion. That didn't make sense. Jason suspected Paul had hired Jack to plant a bomb in Sammi's car, like he'd hired the man to shoot his stepmother. Jack, as it turned out, had worked as a demolition expert with a construction company a few years back.

  Helen closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. Paul simply wasn't a logical suspect. She'd thought the same thing before and it still held true. Helen doubted a man so intent on protecting Edgewood would want to call negative attention to himself or his company, yet the explosion and the hit-and-run had done just that. Paul was not a stupid man. He wouldn't have run Jack down with his car and leave a trail of evidence a ten-year-old could follow. It simply did not fit the image of the Paul Kincaid she'd come to know. If her assumptions were true, Paul had been framed.

  Helen could almost feel the adrenaline pulse through her body. Paul Kincaid did not kill Jack Owens, and she seriously doubted that he'd killed anyone. He was too busy holding his crumbling corporation together. So who framed Paul and why? Greed? With Paul out of the way, Kincaid Enterprises would fall to Mai and her husband, David Chang.

  She wondered how the other doctors were dealing with Paul's arrest. Helen sprang off the bed. No time like the present to find out.

  A surprise visit would be best, Helen decided. She signed out of the manor, saying she was going for a walk. And she did.

  Helen walked out through the day room and into the courtyard, around the building, through the park, and into Kincaid Laboratories. The large marble entry was empty. She could see Andi at the end of the hall talking to the pharmacist, gossi
ping no doubt about their boss's arrest.

  Helen considered creeping around by herself, but without a key she probably wouldn't get very far. Besides, Andi had turned around and was walking toward her.

  "Hi, Mrs. Bradley." Andi hitched up the belt weighed down by her gun and holster. "Been meaning to come over to see you, but things have been pretty busy around here."

  "They certainly have. I suppose you've heard about Dr. Kincaid's arrest."

  Andi nodded. "Sure did. In fact, I'm the one who spotted the dent in his car this morning. Didn't believe my own eyes at first."

  "I imagine the other doctors are pretty upset."

  "Oh, yeah. They sent all the lab assistants home. They're huddling up at the Changs' house to decide what to do."

  "I'd really like to talk with them."

  "I don't think they want to be disturbed, but seeing as it's you, I suppose I could call."

  Andi did and relayed the message back to Helen that they would be back in around four. A two-hour wait. Helen considered going back to the room but decided her time might be better spent examining the off-limits room upstairs.

  "Andi," Helen began, "you mentioned being surprised when you learned Dr. Kincaid owned the vehicle that hit Jack Owens."

  "For sure. It still doesn't seem possible."

  Helen rested her arms on the counter. "What if I were to tell you I think Dr. Kincaid was framed and the real killer, the one who killed Jack and Irene and maybe even Andrew, is still on the loose."

  Andi's eyes widened. "You think that's a possibility?"

  "I'm almost certain of it. Which is why I need your help."

  "Sure, what can I do?"

  "I have been wracking my brain trying to come up with motives. All along I've been thinking money, but that may not be the case at all. I'm thinking someone, maybe one of the doctors or staff members, did something wrong and has been desperately trying to cover their tracks."

  "By killing Irene?"

  "Yes, but perhaps even before that. Irene told me she had proof that her husband had been murdered. She claimed she had a disk with evidence that would prove her right. If she was right, and despite the evidence to the contrary, someone did kill Andrew, then…"

  "Maybe he caught the person. Like they could have been embezzling money or selling black market drugs like Jack. Old Doc Kincaid would have fired them on the spot and turned them over to the cops. He always told us he ran a clean operation."

  "And I think Paul wanted to keep it that way, but things started going awry. The information got into the wrong hands, and the killer had to keep trying to stop the leak.

  "Now it's possible Paul really is responsible," Helen went on, "but what if he isn't? So far four people have been killed, each one because they knew something. I can't help wondering who's going to be next."

  "You maybe. You've been asking a lot of questions and some-one's already shot at you."

  "Yes, and that person wasn't Paul." Helen felt certain it wasn't Sammi either. "What I want to do is go back to the beginning. Chris told me his grandfather died up there." Helen pointed toward the ceiling. "He was going to take me up later, but I'm thinking since I have two hours to spare, maybe you could let me go up and look around."

  "Oh, I couldn't do that. I mean, I know you're an ex-cop and all, but I have strict orders not to let anyone up there. Besides, the cops checked the place out when Irene started making noises about her husband being killed."

  Helen sighed. "I can certainly understand your hesitation. I'd just hoped you'd help me get to the bottom of whatever's going on. I'm sure you want answers as badly as I do."

  "You're right about that." Andi reached into a drawer, pulled out a plastic card, and set it on the counter, then turned around to pick up a clipboard.

  Helen stuffed the card into her pocket.

  Andi turned back around and set the clipboard on the desk. "I don't normally break the rules, Mrs. B., but I have a lot of respect for you. And seeing as you're Lieutenant McGrady's mother, well if I can't trust you, who can I trust?"

  Helen promised she'd return the key shortly and hurried up the stairs before Andi could change her mind.

  The testing facility looked much like the lab area downstairs. Each of the doctors had separate working areas and desks with equipment, work spaces, and drawers clearly labeled. The windowed wall to the left offered a view of Mt. Hood in the distance. Straight ahead was another stairway, probably leading down to the offices. Next to the stairs was another room. Through the window in the door she could see a number of cages. The laboratory animals.

  To her right was a set of double swinging doors and she decided to start there. Helen had no idea what she was looking for and just hoped she'd know if she found it.

  The room was set up much like a modern autopsy room. She'd seen a number of autopsies during her time on the police force. More than enough. Helen closed her mind to the image of the medical examiner making the Y cut to expose and remove the internal organs.

  The room was frigid and smelled of antiseptic solution. It had recently been cleaned. Purged of any evidence, it offered nothing but a bad memory. Helen backed out of the room and watched the doors swing shut. A few feet down on the same wall were two heavy metal doors that looked like walk-in refrigeration units. The first was a freezer. Helen depressed the handle, holding her breath as she peered inside. She hadn't known what to expect, corpses maybe, hanging from meat hooks, or body parts. But there was nothing like that. Only shelf after shelf of various tissues from organs, each labeled and placed neatly in cubicles bearing individuals' names and the name of a doctor.

  She opened the next door down, a refrigerator set up much the same way. Hundreds of trays of vials and petri dishes sat on shelves, all neatly labeled. Again, nothing unusual for a research lab. She let her gaze drift over the foreign-sounding names. One cabinet was labeled Microbial Causes. Two words jumped out at her staphylococcus and pneumococcus. A staph infection had killed Irene. And she'd had pneumonia.

  While it didn't seem unusual for a research lab to be studying microorganisms, in fact, these were probably used to test various antibacterial agents, but suppose someone was using them to kill residents prematurely and Dr. Kincaid found out? Dr. David Chang's name was on the cabinet.

  Helen shivered, remembering Irene's insistence that someone was trying to kill her, to poison her. Her son-in-law? It was a bone-chilling thought. Still, she had no real proof. These units would be easily accessible by any of the workers who had clearance.

  She poked through the cabinets, finding samples of drugs. One cabinet, bearing Mai Chang's name, was filled with bottles. Helen recognized many of them as the herbs Sheila had pointed out, all alphabetized. She found no foxglove or digitalis, but there was a bottle of hemlock.

  Helen shuddered and shut the refrigerator door, then ducked behind a nearby counter when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

  An overhead light came on. "Mrs. Bradley?" Mai called. "Are you still here?”

  “I’m sorry, but…”

  “It's all right. Andi told me she'd given you a key."

  Helen straightened and stepped away from the counter. "I hope you won't be upset with her."

  "No, not really." Mai rubbed her forehead. "Have you learned anything?"

  "Pardon me?"

  "Anything that could clear my brother. Andi said you didn't think he was guilty. I know he isn't. She also said you believed my mother may have been right about my father's death."

  "I realize it goes against the evidence, but yes, I have reason to believe someone murdered both of your parents."

  Mai walked over to the water dispenser near the sink and retrieved two mugs from a nearby rack. She pressed the red button and filled them with hot water, went over to one of the desks, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Please. Have a seat and tell me more about your theories."

  Helen rolled one of the other office chairs closer to Mai's desk. It creaked in protest as she sat down. "You may not like the
m."

  Mai's dark gaze met Helen's. She opened a drawer and lifted out a tin canister, opened it, and drew out two tea bags. "Chamomile. A restful tea. I grow it myself. One of my mother's favorites. I understand you enjoy tea as well."

  "Yes, I do. Thank you." Helen accepted one of the tea bags, slid it into the hot water, then dipped it several times.

  "She and I usually made a pot in the afternoons." Tears misted her eyes.

  "You miss her."

  "Very much."

  "Did you help her to die?"

  Mai's head snapped up. Hot water sloshed out of her cup onto her hand. She grabbed for a tissue and mopped it up.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Did you burn your hand?"

  "I'm fine." She wasn't fine. Her hand shook when she reached up to tuck strands of straight black hair behind her ear. "I just didn't expect you to ask me something like that."

  "Your brother believes in assisted suicide. I was told Irene did too. I just wondered if you…"

  "I do not. I believe it is important to make one's final days as comfortable as possible. But I could never help someone die. I believe that is up to a higher power than myself. My mother did not want to die." Mai glanced down at the red blotchy area on her hand. "I hold myself partially responsible for her death. Perhaps that's why your question upset me so much."

  "Responsible? In what way?"

  "I wanted her brought out to Edgewood immediately after her injury, but Paul thought it would be best if she stayed at the hospital for a few days. I should have insisted. By the time he brought her here, it was too late. My treatment had no effect."

  "Your treatment?"

  "Yes. I do a type of herbal cleansing to rid the body of toxins and build antibodies to fight infection. I hoped that along with the antibiotics it would help to heal her."

  "Mai, I saw some vials of bacteria in the cooler. Could someone have injected bacteria into her blood stream? I remember Sammi telling me she had an unusual amount of bacteria in her body."

  "I find your accusations very upsetting, Mrs. Bradley. We are all dedicated to healing, not destroying life. My husband would never do such a thing."