The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3)

by Lynette Sowell

  And Mia’s words about Terrance rang in my ears. Her desperation touched me, and I wished I could help. Barkha had said the other day that she wanted to give people grace. Maybe even Dr. Bradley had tried to help Terrance. I knew how he’d treated me, despite Eunice’s proclamation that the doctor had liked me.

  Of course, Franklin Bradley gliding by in a new vehicle spoke volumes. I racked my brain. They’d had a doozy of an argument the day of the breakin. They used to fight about money, I recalled from the dictation recordings. But I couldn’t think of anything more specific. Whenever they’d fight while Dr. Bradley dictated, I tried to fast-forward through the arguments that made it onto tape. That was before Dr. Bradley was murdered. I hadn’t cared about their controversy then. Now I did. And all his sound files were probably deleted, with only hard copies and digital documents remaining. Except for that suspicious last sound file.

  Maybe tonight after the dust settled and Barkha left, I’d take listen to the sound file again. I couldn’t ask Barkha to listen. We’d be in all kinds of trouble. I’d had to sign a privacy statement before starting to work for Bradley Medical. So I couldn’t let her listen to the recording. My head hurt.

  I took the basket of folded socks to our bedroom, stopping long enough to check on the lasagna cooking in the oven. I’d like to say I made the whole thing from scratch, cooked the noodles, and added the sauce, meat, and heaps of shredded cheese, but I didn’t. Another hour and the lasagna would be done. I heard a truck engine coming up the driveway. Ben! And we’d have at least an hour or so before Barkha arrived. I hurried to our bedroom and piled our clean socks and underwear on our bed, then shot back to the kitchen.

  Ben entered through the back door. He wore a tired smile and his stained work shirt and pants. I gave him a big hug anyway. His smile always got to me.

  “Have a good day?”

  He shrugged. “Pretty good. It’s better now that I’m here with you and our little bug. Speakin’ of her, where is she?”

  “Sleeping. But I expect her to be up and playing at any moment.”

  Ben ambled to the stove. “Mmm … smells great.”

  “I slaved over it as only I can. Straight from freezer to oven.”

  “That’s my baby. I told Jerry if he wanted to, he could bring some sodas.”

  “What?” Hannah’s wail traveled down the hallway, so I started in that direction. “You invited Jerry for dinner tonight?”

  “You said he could come anytime. And he’s seemed kinda lonely lately.” Ben followed me to Hannah’s room.

  I stopped at her door. “Oh, it’s no problem. Of course he’s always welcome here. It’s just that, well, I invited Barkha for dinner, too. She’s bringing salad.”

  “Okay, then, it’s a foursome plus the little bug.” Ben’s eyes glinted. “Here, I’ll take care of her. Diapers and all.”

  That was why I loved him. “Maybe it’s a good thing both Jerry and Barkha are coming for dinner on the same night. It’s more personal than a crowded Sunday dinner. They’ll have a chance to spend time together and it’s not like a date. Or a double-date, even.”

  The wailing grew louder as Ben entered Hannah’s room, and I leaned on the door frame. He scooped Hannah up from her crib. “Daddy’s home, bug.” She hiccupped and screwed up her face into a smile. Then her lower lip puckered again. I smiled at their interaction. She’d turned our lives on end and rearranged our schedules, but I wouldn’t wish these moments away. No matter how loud. Or stinky. Ben reached for a clean diaper.

  “Ands,” he said as he laid Hannah on her changing table, “I don’t think you should try to set them up or anything. And tonight’s going to start out pretty awkward with neither one of them knowin’ the other one’s going to be here.”

  “Which is why it’s perfect. This was completely unplanned. Neither of them will be anticipating the pressure or expectations.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Chapter Eight

  “So, Jerry,” I asked while I passed him the bowl of tossed salad, “how’s the investigation going?”

  He looked tired as he scooped some salad into his empty bowl. “It’s goin’.” He glanced from me to Barkha across the table from him, then back to me again. “Can’t say much at the moment.”

  “Well …” I ignored Ben’s pointed look across from me. “What have you been able to tell the press?”

  “Dr. Bradley’s death is suspicious. The recording alone backs that up.” He passed the salad bowl to me.

  “Was it a heart attack or a stroke?”

  “No.”

  “Organs don’t just shut down on their own.” I piled salad in my bowl, avoiding the onions and snagging an extra grape tomato.

  “Even I know that.”

  “Were there prints anywhere?”

  “We did get some prints at the medicine locker, and some in his office. I don’t know if we’ll find a match or not.” Jerry frowned.

  To my right, Barkha’s face blanched. “How soon do you think they’ll have a cause of death?”

  “I’m not sure. That depends on how soon the comprehensive toxicology reports come back. We put a rush on it. Hopefully preliminary results tomorrow.”

  “What about any local drug offenders?” Barkha asked.

  “I’m looking into that. We’ve had a busy summer, and for some reason narcotic prescription drugs are a hot commodity.”

  “Speaking of which,” I said. “Have you talked to Terrance Higgins? Mia was pretty upset at Mommy’s Morning today. He has severe back problems. They’ve been at the ER a lot, and Dr. Bradley refused to see him anymore. I hope he’s not addicted to pain medication, the way Mia was talking.” I immediately felt like I’d tattled on Mia’s husband. What if he was merely hurting—and innocent?

  “That bears looking into. I’d have to get a court order to look at his medical records, if it comes to that.”

  “But it could be someone else, too. Maybe someone we wouldn’t suspect.” I didn’t want to start naming names. Because what about Franklin, and a long shot, Eunice? She certainly wasn’t happy about that earring I saw in the office. People did unthinkable things because of jealousy. With no cause of death, it was hard to pin down one suspect. Yet.

  “True, true.” Jerry drizzled oil and vinegar on his salad. “Would you like some oil and vinegar for your salad, Barkha?” Barkha. We’d made some progress. Not bad at all.

  “Yes, thank you. My favorite type of salad dressing.”

  “Mine too.” He handed her the glass containers, and their fingertips brushed.

  Okay, now we had more progress in the last fifteen minutes than the last fifteen months.

  “I think the Cardinals game starts in half an hour,” Ben said.

  “Great.” Jerry’s expression brightened. “We can sit back and relax. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to do that.”

  I wanted to kick my hubby under the table, but restrained myself. I was hoping we could all chat about the investigation and the more time Jerry and Barkha spent in the same room together, the better. Maybe Jerry didn’t want to talk about the case, but still …

  The guys chomped through their meals like oversize caterpillars while Barkha and I focused on Hannah, perched in her high chair at the corner of the table. Several times Barkha looked Jerry’s way, and I noted the same expression I’d seen on her face the other day at Oat Grass. Worried. Very worried.

  What was it she’d said to Dr. Bradley that day? Something that happened “a long time ago.” And I couldn’t forget Dr. Bradley’s fuming stomp across the restaurant. His words still stung me, which is probably why I wanted forget the whole encounter.

  “Have you heard anything about a memorial service for Dr. Bradley?” I asked Barkha. “I realize it’s soon, but I didn’t know if Eunice mentioned anything.”

  “I’m not sure,” Barkha said. “I doubt that the medical examiner has released the body yet. Eunice hasn’t mentioned anything. Neither has Franklin.”
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br />   My change of subject certainly hadn’t improved our moods at all. Hannah squealed and waved her cracker-covered fingers at us.

  “Look at those teeth.” Barkha’s expression transformed into a smile. Hannah couldn’t help but inspire a smile from someone in a troubled mood.

  “Yes, her gums are just erupting. Maybe I’ll get a better night’s sleep tonight now that the latest tooth has pushed through.” At my words, Hannah giggled.

  When the guys cleared out from the kitchen, Barkha glanced toward the living room, then snapped her focus to me. “I need to talk to Jerry.”

  I nodded and reached for a clean napkin to wipe Hannah’s grubby fingers. “I’ve been hoping we can continue our conversation from Monday.”

  Barkha stood, and started stacking dirty plates and bringing them to the dishwasher. “My lunch with Dr. Bradley. About Tushar. And … about what happened before.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about the plates.”

  “I don’t mind helping. Gives my hands something to do.”

  A roar from the living room made us look in that direction. “Someone made a hit.”

  Barkha smiled, but her hands shook. “Andi, I’m scared.” She sank into one of the wooden chairs.

  “Please, tell me what happened.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to end up at the top of Jerry’s suspect list. If not the very top, close to it.”

  “Why?”

  “Something happened a long time ago. Something that Dr. Bradley found out about me, and, well … when we had our discussion the other day, he was talking about releasing me from my contract with the medical group.” I’d never heard her voice so soft, and I had to almost lean in her direction to hear her.

  “You should talk to Jerry, tonight. He’s a good man.”

  “I don’t know … I don’t want to put him in the middle.”

  “He should hear this from you, instead of him finding out during the investigation. Just tell him straight out.”

  Barkha sighed. “You’re right.”

  I tried to give her an encouraging smile. “Besides, we’ve got DVR and the game will keep, so don’t say you can’t interrupt the game. This is too important.”

  Within a few minutes, the four of us had gathered around the table again. I put Hannah in her playpen to keep her from terrorizing Spot kitty.

  “Barkha.” Jerry spoke her name gently, and moved as if he wanted to touch her hand, but stopped.

  “Just before Hiram died, he discovered something about me that I didn’t want revealed. And he, well, he threatened me.” Normally in control of her emotions, Barkha blinked, and I thought I saw tears in her eyes. “I should have told someone. But it happened in medical school. I was young, foolish, and desperate …”

  Her large brown eyes focused not on the lasagna stain on the tablecloth, but probably on memories of another time.

  “Jerry, should Barkha get a lawyer before she talks to you?” I had to ask. No matter how much I wanted the two of them together, reality smacked me in the face. I should have asked her about what happened before now. I shouldn’t have given up. If I truly thought of myself as her friend, I should have paid better attention.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Barkha.” This time Jerry did touch her hand. She accepted his gesture like a lifeline, and he squeezed.

  “Yes, I do.” She glanced from their hands to Jerry’s face. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Oh Lord, please don’t let it be something horrible.

  “People have disagreements all the time, and none of us know when it’ll be our last time to speak to someone.” I sounded an awful lot like Momma.

  Jerry shot me a look that made me fall silent. I could always load the dishwasher to stay out of the way. But I kept my seat. Barkha might need the moral support.

  “It was my last year of medical school, the final semester. I’d struggled with one class. Imagine that, me a straight-A student struggling to pull a B. But I did.” At this, Barkha half smiled. “All my life, I’d lived under such pressure. To be the best. To make my parents proud. I couldn’t let anyone down.

  “I was applying to the residency program at Vanderbilt. And I just couldn’t let that smudge show up on my transcript. A perfect record, but for one class.”

  None of us said anything. No wonder she had an impeccable office, perfect dictations, and nary a hair out of place. And yet now she sat with us, wringing her hands and tied up in knots.

  “So … through a friend of a friend of yet another friend, I got a phone number. Someone had the exam I needed. I’d have a guaranteed A. for a price. I met the anonymous contact with my money in hand. But what I didn’t know was someone had followed me.” She paused and looked at Jerry.

  “It’s okay. Go on.” He nodded.

  “When I met the person with the exam, I realized what I was about to do could kill my career before it started. If anyone ever found out. So, I told him I’d changed my mind and didn’t buy the test.”

  “You never actually bought an exam,” Jerry said.

  Barkha shook her head. “But like I said, someone followed me and took pictures of us, then turned me in. I was called into the dean’s office and nearly got booted from the program. They ended up catching the one selling exams, and the guy was furious. First he tried to pin it on me, that I was the one selling exams. He was sure I was trying to set him up. So I was off the hook. I ended up getting a C+ in the course with a disciplinary ethical mark on my record. Even after I finished my residency, several facilities chose not to hire me because of that one smudge. Hiram must not have paid attention to that section on my transcript. At any rate, he hired me without a quibble. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t volunteer the information. I figured if it was there, he could ask.”

  “So how did Dr. Bradley find out?” The question flew from my mouth.

  “Ironically, one of Hiram’s old colleagues is a professor where I attended medical school. Recently my name came up in a conversation and Hiram found out what happened. Hence our go-round at Oat Grass. He accused me of hiding information from him.”

  Jerry nodded. “I can figure out the rest. But Andi’s right. Getting a lawyer is a wise idea. You do that, and come down to the station and tell me the rest of the story tomorrow.” He looked at his hand, still holding Barkha’s, and pulled away.

  Barkha closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can just imagine what you all must think of me. What I was about to do …”

  “We don’t hate you, and we sure don’t think less of you. How long ago did this happen?” I asked.

  “At little over five years ago.”

  “And you’ve been carrying this around since then?”

  Barkha frowned and looked at me. “It’s followed me here. I know God forgave me for my sins. I left Hinduism and chose Him instead, just over two years ago. But I wish I could forget … In the past, I’d have done something good to make up for it, to get things to even out, to avoid any problems in the future. My mother was always warning us kids about the next life. Karma, you know. Although, technically speaking, I never bought that test.”

  I touched her shoulder. “You did the right thing by walking away.”

  “I know I did the right thing. But Hiram said—”

  “Hush, now.” Jerry’s voice held a gentle tone. “We can talk about that tomorrow. It’ll keep. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

  A tear crept down Barkha’s tawny cheek and she dashed it away. “Thanks. It’s good to have friends.”

  “Well, we’re here for you, aren’t we, guys?” I’d never seen this side of Barkha before. She’d always been bright, upbeat, pleasant. Efficient as a physician, and carrying a load she didn’t have to. At church she asked eager questions in Bible study, and never let on about her inner struggle.

  After that I broke out the dessert, which helped to lighten the mood, at least for Ben and Jerry. They took their strawberry shortcake to the living room. Jerry gave Barkha a long look before he lef
t the kitchen, as if he’d rather stay with us. He really must have it bad if he’d consider giving up watching a baseball game to sit in the kitchen with us ladies.

  Barkha took a bite of her dessert. “This is absolutely delicious. I’m a big fan of comfort food.”

  “Thanks. I half-learned from the best. My pound cake isn’t made from scratch like Momma’s, but the strawberries don’t seem to mind much. And I actually whipped the cream myself.” I thought about giving Hannah a cookie too, but she still chewed on her bunny’s ear and kicked at some blocks in her playpen. “You know, you did the right thing, talking to Jerry.”

  “I can’t believe how relieved I am at telling Jerry about what happened.” She stared over at our stove, but I didn’t think her focus was on the stainless steel..

  “What is it?”

  “I miss my mother’s cooking. All of us would gather once a week at my parents’ home. My brother, sister, and I. Plus their spouses and children. My father didn’t want us to move far from them.”

  “You sound homesick.”

  “Not so much anymore. I do miss my family, but they don’t understand. They don’t accept who I am now. I’m the same, but I’m different too.” She gestured with her fork, then placed it on the table.

  “What about Tushar?”

  Barkha frowned. “He thinks I’ll go back to Atlanta, that this is a personal crisis I need to work through. But I can’t.”

  “Is he still around town? I haven’t seen him since Friday.”

  “Oh, he’s around. We met for coffee last night.”

  “You met him for coffee? What were you thinking?”

  “Honestly, it’s not like he’s a stalker.” Barkha nibbled her dessert. “I had to hear him out. Tushar knew about what happened in medical school, and he was afraid that the longer I stayed here, it might come out.”