Once they were outside, Rory and Liz joined the other guests milling around the courtyard in front of the Akaw. Hotel staff kept everyone fifty feet away from the entrance, creating a safety zone and leaving space for emergency personnel to enter when they arrived. People gathered in small groups, talking and periodically casting worried looks at the hotel.
Rory did a double take and nodded toward a woman with a camera, smaller than a pack of playing cards, strapped around her head. “Is that Stella Nygaard with the head cam?” She’d barely recognized the woman they had met at the Creative Painting convention in Las Vegas a few months before. She’d lost several dress sizes since they saw her last.
Liz looked in the direction Rory had indicated. “That’s Stella all right. She’s filming the convention for her painting chapter in Minnesota. She promised to show me some of the footage later. I might even get a chance to play around with the camera.”
“Sounds like fun.” Rory’s gaze swept the crowd. “I don’t see my mom. I think she was on the trade show floor. There’s an exit on the side of the building. Let’s head that direction and see if we can find her.”
They were making their way through the crowd when a fire truck pulled up, its siren sounding and lights flashing. The hotel manager and Detective Green met the firefighters at the entrance. After a short discussion, the group headed inside. Someone silenced the alarm and, twenty minutes later, the fire department declared the building safe for re-entry, informing everyone it was only a false alarm.
After all of the excitement, it took time for the students in Liz’s class to return to their stations and settle down. Once they did, everyone worked on their strokes and, as soon as they’d gained confidence in their abilities, applied them to the project. Rory walked around the room to see if anyone needed any help. Once or twice she noticed Jasmine nodding off. Liz was explaining the last step when murmurs coming from the back of the class reached Rory’s ears. When she walked over to see what the fuss was about, she found Jasmine slumped over her project, her hair resting in the wet paint on her palette paper.
Rory assumed her friend was in the midst of another cataplectic attack but, when she moved Jasmine’s hair out of the paint, she sensed something was different and very, very wrong. She bent over and studied her friend’s face, then straightened up and said in a hushed voice, “I don’t think she’s breathing.”
Chapter 5
A stunned silence fell over the classroom as Liz stopped teaching and everyone realized something was wrong. Hushed cries of “Did she say she’s not breathing?” and “Is she okay?” ran through the ballroom.
Rory was going over in her mind the emergency procedures she’d learned as a Girl Scout when Mel stepped forward and said in a soothing voice, “Okay, everyone. Stay calm. I’m a paramedic.”
They all cleared a path for the woman to get to Jasmine and waited anxiously for her assessment. “She’s breathing.” Mel pointed toward Rory and a woman standing next to her. “You and you, help me get her on the floor. Quickly now.”
Supporting her head and neck, the three women carefully lowered Jasmine onto the carpet. Mel checked to make sure nothing was blocking Jasmine’s airway, then turned to Rory and Liz and said, “Liz, call 911. Rory, do you know if she has any medical conditions? Is she on any medications that you know of?”
“She has narcolepsy.” Rory tried to remember what her friend told her about the prescription drugs she took, but nothing came to mind. “She takes several medicines, but I don’t know anything about them. Wait, Ian might have the details.”
Mel nodded her head, indicating she understood. “See if you can find him. And let the hotel staff know what’s going on and make sure the ambulance crew knows where to go when they arrive.”
Relieved to have something useful to do, Rory sprinted out the door and down the hallway toward the convention office. Inside, she found the hotel manager quietly talking with Nixie as he massaged her shoulders. By the time she explained the situation to them, the paramedics were entering the front door of the hotel. Rory led them to the ballroom, Nixie and Ian following closely on their heels.
After bringing the ambulance crew up to date, Mel stepped aside and kept everyone back while they worked. As soon as the paramedics wheeled Jasmine out the door with Ian close behind them, Nixie moved to the front of the room, held up her hand and addressed the class. Everyone turned startled faces toward the convention organizer. “This is all very upsetting. All we can do is hope she’s okay.” She consulted her watch. “There’s still half an hour left in the class. Liz tells me she’s gone over all the steps with you. I know many of you are too upset to continue painting, but anyone who wishes to work on their project is welcome to stay. Liz will be here to assist you.”
After Nixie left the ballroom, the students returned to their seats. Half the class cleaned up their work spaces and packed up their belongings. The other half bent down over their projects, not saying a word as they painted.
Rory stood by Jasmine’s station, not quite believing what had happened. She knew the basics of her friend’s condition, but had never thought of it as life-threatening.
Liz walked over and gave her a reassuring hug. “I’m sorry about Jasmine. I’m sure they’ll do everything they can.”
Rory sank down onto a nearby chair as a thought suddenly struck her. “Peter. How am I going to tell Peter?”
“I’ll call him if you want.”
“No, I should do it.” With a heavy heart, Rory picked up her cell phone and dialed, explaining to Peter what happened and where the paramedics took his wife. After she promised to meet him at the hospital and ended the call, she stared at the painting supplies spread out on the table before her. “Could you put everything in her bag? I’d do it myself, but I need to get to the hospital as soon as I can.”
“Sure, I can do that. I’ll stick the bag in the convention office. Someone can pick it up later.” Liz grabbed Jasmine’s purse off the floor and handed it to her. “Here, take this with you. They might need something from it.” She pushed her gently toward the door. “Go, Peter needs you.”
Rory smiled her thanks. She was heading toward the ballroom entrance when the door flew open and Veronica raced inside.
As soon as she spotted Rory, the reporter headed in her direction. Veronica thrust a digital recorder into the young woman’s face and said, “Is it true? Did someone die?”
Rory batted the recorder away. “Please shut that off. You shouldn’t be asking questions right now. This isn’t a news story, it’s someone’s life we’re talking about.” She continued out the door. Veronica followed her, practically nipping at her heels. The reporter peppered Rory with questions as they walked down the hall, but soon gave up when she realized she wasn’t going to get any answers.
The atmosphere in the hotel was unnaturally quiet. Word had spread that an attendee had collapsed in class and been taken away in an ambulance. As Rory made her way to the Hermosa ballroom to see if Viveca wanted to go to the hospital with her, a number of people stopped her and asked about Jasmine, but there was little she could tell them.
On the trade show floor, she found a group of women clustered around the VivEco booth, blocking the aisle. Rory eased her way through the crowd to where Arika and Nixie were consoling Jasmine’s aunt while Hulbert and his employees dealt with the few customers who were interested in purchasing products.
When Rory entered the booth, the convention organizer drew her aside. “Have you heard anything?” she said in a low voice.
Rory shook her head. “I’m headed to the hospital now. I thought maybe Viveca would want to go with me.”
“I asked her, but she says no. From what I gather, hospitals hold too many bad memories for her. I’m going to take Viveca to Ian’s office. It’s nice and private. She can wait for news there without all this going on.” Nixie inclined her head toward the crowd that was growing by the minute. “When you hear something, go straight there.” She went over to where t
he distraught woman sat, staring off into space. She leaned down and said gently, “Viveca, why don’t we go to the manager’s office now? Rory will let us know the minute she hears anything.”
“What about the booth?” Viveca said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“The girls and I can manage,” Hulbert said, gesturing toward the two employees standing off to one side.
Viveca turned a tear-stained face toward her husband. “I need you with me, Hully.”
“I’ll help out,” Arika said. “We’ll be just fine. No need for you to worry about anything.”
While Nixie led Jasmine’s family to the hotel manager’s office, Rory headed toward her car for the short drive to the hospital.
Chapter 6
The ER wasn’t the chaotic scene Rory expected. No one rushed around like they did on television. Everyone spoke in hushed tones, if they spoke at all. An almost oppressive silence pervaded the waiting area where barely a quarter of the chairs were filled, most by people waiting for word on their loved ones. A muffled “clear” came from behind double doors that shielded the room’s occupants from the patient examination area.
Rory headed toward the reception desk but, when she spotted Peter sitting by himself in a far corner of the room, changed course and joined him.
“Any news?” she said as she sat down in the chair beside him.
Tension written all over his face, Peter looked up and shook his head. “Not yet. Thanks for coming.”
“I brought her purse.” Rory set the shoulder bag down on the floor between the two of them. “We thought you might need her ID or insurance card.”
He nodded in acknowledgement, then put his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands.
Rory patted his shoulder, wishing she knew how to comfort him. “They’re doing everything they can. Do you need me to call anyone? Are you hungry? I can get you some food. There must be vending machines around here somewhere.” She scanned the room for an alcove or hallway that might house a coffee or snack machine.
Peter sat up and gave Rory a ghost of a smile. “It’s okay. I don’t need anything right now. It’s enough that you’re here.”
They sat in silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Every time someone in a white coat came from behind the double doors, their bodies tensed and they both sat up straighter, slumping back down in their seats when no one headed in their direction.
“What’s taking so long?” Peter finally said.
“I don’t know. Let me go and see what I can find out.” Rory was halfway out of her chair when a petite woman in a white coat headed toward them. From the strained look on the doctor’s face, Rory knew the worst had happened. She sank back down into her chair and touched her friend’s arm. “Peter,” she said softly.
“Mr. Halliday?” the doctor said. Peter started to stand up, but she indicated he should remain seated, then sat down in a chair facing them. After introducing herself, Dr. Kendrick cleared her throat and said, “I’m very sorry. We did everything we could, but I’m afraid we were unable to save your wife.”
A sob erupted from Peter’s mouth. “She’s...dead?”
“I’m afraid so.” A sympathetic expression on her face, the doctor looked at them both, patiently waiting for them to absorb the news.
A single tear trickled down Rory’s face. She squared her shoulders and wiped it away, then asked the question Jasmine’s husband seemed unable to put into words. “What happened?”
“We believe she overdosed on one of her medications, Xyrem, sodium oxybate.”
“Xyrem? What’s that?” Rory said.
“In Jasmine’s case, it was helping with her cataplexy.”
“So she screwed up?” Peter said.
A blank expression settled over the doctor’s face. “How was she feeling recently? Any signs of depression?”
“Suicide?” Rory looked over at Peter who stared down at his hands and shook his head.
Jasmine had suffered occasional bouts of depression over the years, but she generally handled her medical condition with a positive attitude. “No, I don’t believe it. She would never do that,” Rory finally said.
“Do you have her medicine?” the doctor asked. “Someone will want to examine it.”
“I think she kept it in her purse.” Rory rummaged through Jasmine’s shoulder bag, but didn’t find any medicine inside. “That’s odd, I could’ve sworn she said she kept it with her. She must have left it in the hotel room.”
The doctor nodded her understanding and stood up. “I know this is hard to take in. If either of you have any more questions feel free to stop by. If I’m available, I’ll do my best to answer them.”
“Can I see her?” Peter asked.
“Just give us a few minutes. I’ll have someone come out and get you.”
The double doors were closing behind the doctor when Brandy entered the emergency room and headed toward them. She took one look at their faces and said in a trembling voice, “She’s gone?”
Rory stood up, drew her friend to one side and related what Doctor Kendrick told them.
“An accidental overdose? Are they sure?”
“As sure as they can be at this point.” Rory looked over at Peter who was clutching his wife’s purse to his chest, then lowered her voice and said to Brandy, “I need to tell Viveca what happened. I don’t think it’s the kind of news that should be given over the phone. She’s back at the hotel. Could you stay with Peter and make sure he gets home all right?”
“Of course,” Brandy said, her voice stronger. She sank down onto the chair beside Peter and put her arm around the grieving man’s shoulder.
Her heart aching, Rory drove back to the Akaw.
Rory spent the evening in her parents’ comforting presence, then went home and cried herself to sleep. When she woke up the following morning, gloom hung over the city, as if the sky, too, mourned Jasmine’s passing. Rory longed to bury her head under the covers and stay there all day, but her concern over Peter’s wellbeing got her out of bed and dressed in record time. After calling to make sure he was awake and taking visitors, she headed out the door.
One short stop later, she pulled up in front of a single-story stucco house on the northern edge of the city. She rang the bell several times before Peter finally answered, looking as tired as Rory felt.
Still in his pajamas and robe with his hair sticking up all over his head and stubble on his face, he appeared as if he’d just rolled out of bed. From the dark circles under his eyes, Rory suspected he hadn’t slept a wink.
“I brought breakfast. Bagels from that place you like around the corner.” She held up a paper bag. “And I got you coffee. Couldn’t remember how you took it so it’s black. I hope that’s okay.”
“Come on in.” Peter turned around and headed toward the rear of the house. Rory closed the front door behind her and followed him into the kitchen.
“Sorry about the mess.” He motioned toward the boxes that lined the hallway. “Been here two weeks and we still haven’t gotten around to unpacking everything. You know how that goes. We were planning on working on it after the convention.”
He took coffee creamer out of the refrigerator and sat down on a stool in front of the kitchen island while Rory placed the food in front of him.
A few bites of bagel and sips of coffee later, he said, “Thanks for the food. Didn’t feel like having dinner last night. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Peter stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “That looks familiar. The necklace. Did Jaz paint it?”
Rory fingered the heart-shaped necklace she wore. A rose painted in varying shades of pink graced its center. “That’s right. She sent it to me for my birthday. Seemed right to wear it today.” She blinked several times before regaining her composure, then motioned toward the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.” He ate in silence while she began washing the mound of plates and cups.
She was halfway
finished when Peter said, “That detective was here. The one you told me about. He found her medicine.”
Her hands still in the soapy water, she looked over her shoulder. “Detective Green? Where did he find it?”
“In Jasmine’s hotel room, just like you thought. They’re checking it right now to make sure there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“You’re talking about the one she overdosed on? What’s the name of it again?”
“Xyrem. X-y-r-e-m.”
Rory tucked the information away in the back of her brain.
“I just don’t get it.” He set his coffee on the counter. “I don’t see how she could have overdosed. She was so careful about her medication. She had to go through a special program before her doctor would prescribe it for her. They made sure she understood everything about the drug—its dangers, what she could and could not do—everything. And I always double-checked to make sure she didn’t screw up.”
Rory put the last dish in the drainer and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. She turned around and leaned against the counter. “But she was staying at the hotel by herself. Maybe without you there...”
“She might have missed one or two doses recently, but she never, ever took too much. It wasn’t an accidental overdose. I’m sure of it.” His chin jutted out in defiance.
“And what about...the other?” Rory said in a soft voice, staring down at the towel in her hands, not daring to look in the man’s eyes.
“Suicide? You said it yourself, she would never do that. She was able to do so much more lately.” Peter shook his head, clutching the piece of bagel he was holding so tightly an avalanche of crumbs dropped onto the island. “This medication was a godsend. Her cataplexy was under better control. She was getting out more. And she was excited about the convention. No, there must be something wrong with her medication.”
Rory was inclined to agree with him. The Jasmine she knew always followed her doctor’s orders and took any medicines exactly as prescribed. “I guess we’ll have to see what the police find out.” She hung the towel on the rack and returned the coffee creamer to the refrigerator, noting how little food it contained. She made a mental note to buy some groceries and drop them off later. She turned to look at him in concern. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Paint the Town Dead Page 5
