She smacked her forehead. “I’m not thinking clearly,” she admitted. “What do you think we should do?”
“Bring the needles to a local hospital,” I responded with certainty. “I just need to find a lab worker who will test them for me and see if there’s any type of toxic fluid inside.”
“That sounds kind of risky to me,” Penelope said with trepidation.
“It is risky. But it’s all I can do right now. I could also ask the lab to test for fingerprints.”
“Wouldn’t you need a crime lab to do that?”
“A crime lab would be able to identify the fingerprints if they belong to a criminal in their database.” I heaved a massive sigh. “This is getting too complicated. I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“How about telling me who was here earlier that you were suspicious of? We got interrupted when you saw the needle,” Penelope reminded.
“Grace was in here,” I revealed.
“The crazy roommate girl?”
“Yes. And while she was here, she told me that Ramiro was her ex-boyfriend,” I said meaningfully.
“What?!” Penelope squeaked.
I nodded. “She said they broke up last year. Honestly, she seemed pretty upset. But appearances can be deceiving…”
“And she’s hiding something! We need to find out where she works,” Penelope decided as a gasp escaped her lips. “What if she works at a hospital?”
“Then she’s the murderer,” I said definitively. “The only person who would have access to syringes like these would be employees of a hospital or doctor’s office.”
“Unless the killer stole the syringes from a hospital,” Penelope tossed out the possibility.
“Maybe, but if it was a loaded syringe that killed Ramiro, then the murderer would need to have some knowledge of toxicology and dosages. My gut feeling is that whoever killed Ramiro is someone in the medical profession.”
“That could be why Grace wouldn’t tell us where she works! Because she knew we would eventually discover that she’s the murderer. It had to be her who planted those syringes here!” Penelope was adamant and for once there was no sibling squabble between us. I was on the exact same page as my often flighty younger sister.
“I think so too. I don’t see who else it could have been.”
The café door blew open suddenly and interrupted our discussion. “It’s so windy outside!” Mrs. Dollner said with chattering teeth as she swept inside.
“You chose an interesting time to show up,” I remarked.
“Really? Why? What’s going on now?” Mrs. Dollner was as eager as a canine gnawing on a sizzling New York strip steak.
Penelope and I quickly filled her in as she listened intently. “So we were thinking about heading over to the hospital to see what we could find out, if anything,” I revealed, still feeling that my idea was on shaky ground.
“Why not? Can’t hurt,” Mrs. Dollner said with mild encouragement. “But you know I’m coming too!”
“Yes, I do know,” I smiled broadly at the old charmer.
Locking up the shop, we boarded my car as I plugged a search into my GPS for the nearest hospital. As the computerized voice launched us on our journey, I felt a powerful uneasiness flow through my veins. Glancing over my shoulder as I threw the car into reverse, I had the distinct feeling that someone was watching. Frowning as I merged onto the road, I wondered if Captain Davis had sent his minions to follow me.
***
Minnesota Regional General Hospital was situated on an enormous plot of land with multiple metered parking lots. The urban-style hospital was in stark contrast to the tranquility of Candlewick Falls and the outlying forest. I immediately felt out of my element as I grabbed a parking ticket from a machine and cruised across the concrete.
“This should be a good place for us to stay discreet,” Penelope said brightly.
“I suppose,” I said reluctantly. “We really just need access to one of their labs.”
“Well that shouldn’t be a problem,” Mrs. Dollner said with a wink. “You girls can just use your charms and flirt with the lab workers to get what you need.”
“You’re assuming that the lab workers will be men,” I said briskly. “There are plenty of women scientists from our generation.”
“Oh yes, dear, of course!” Mrs. Dollner said, pink-faced.
“And from your generation too,” Penelope added. “Wasn’t Marie Curie born around the same time as you were?”
Mrs. Dollner’s rosy cheeks turned indignantly vermilion. “Marie Curie was born in the 1800’s! If my memory serves me correctly from all my history classes, I would say the exact year was 1867. She was born in Poland.”
“Don’t you mean France?” Penelope asked.
“No, I mean Poland. She married a Frenchman. His name was Pierre Curie. But Marie was Polish,” Mrs. Dollner said decisively.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You really do have a good memory, Mrs. Dollner,” I praised sincerely.
“Thank you,” she replied proudly.
Parking the car in a narrow spot, I took a deep breath and mentally prepared for the task ahead. With me were my two greatest allies and I needed to feed off their strength. My nerves were too shot at the moment to do anything so foolhardy alone.
“Don’t overthink this,” Penelope suggested, reading my mind.
“Right,” I said firmly. “Let’s go.”
The three of us waltzed through the main entrance and spun a story to the front desk receptionist. “We’re visiting a friend,” Mrs. Dollner announced. “My dear friend, Elizabeth. I don’t remember her last name, though. Ah, these days my memory is failing me, just like my sight and my hearing!”
I chewed my inner cheeks to keep from laughing at the old lady’s audacity. She had just proven to have a superb memory, but now she was feigning senility. And all to help me. Mrs. Dollner was truly a doll.
“Let me see here.” The receptionist punched into her database. “We have several Elizabeths staying in the hospital right now. Was her last name Cooper? Or perhaps Shell?”
“Oh yes, Elizabeth Shell! That’s her!” Mrs. Dollner exclaimed, apparently choosing the name out of a hat.
“Alright then, here are three guest passes for you ladies. The elevators are that way.” The receptionist pointed to her left as we grabbed the passes and scurried away.
“I’m a bad girl, aren’t I?” Mrs. Dollner whispered laughingly.
“No, you’re wonderful! You really can think on your feet!” I whispered back.
“So where are we going? We’re not really going to visit Elizabeth Shell,” Penelope said with a bubble of laughter.
“Of course not. Let’s just look around for a directory and see where the labs are located,” I suggested, simply running on autopilot.
We strode down the sterile white corridor, searching for any kind of signage to help us. Spotting a woman in a nurse’s uniform, I decided to ask her for help. “Excuse me,” I said to the woman’s backside.
Turning around to face me, the nurse looked mortified and quickly turned around again, running in the other direction. It only took a split second for me to register the shocking identity of the woman: Katrina, my sweet customer from Espresso Magic.
Chapter 10
In her rubber-soled work shoes, Katrina effortlessly outpaced me as she ran like a jackal in the other direction. Instinctively, I pursued her, completely confused about why she was running away from me. “Stay with Mrs. Dollner!” I hollered to Penelope as I stepped on an invisible gas pedal and accelerated my speed. Running was no easy feat in my chunky heeled suede boots, but I kept going, unwilling to let Katrina slip away. Distantly, I heard the click of heels behind me. Briefly, I turned around but didn’t see anyone except a male orderly wheeling an empty stretcher down the hall.
In hot pursuit, I ignored the pounding of my heart and the sweat beads bursting on my forehead. Katrina kept running like cornered prey and I kept chasing her like a
n irrepressible predator. “Katrina!” I shouted breathlessly as I bridged the distance between us. “Why are you running?” I managed to gasp.
“Because you’re chasing me!” She shouted without slowing down. “You really must be a crazy witch like everyone says.”
Her words sliced through me, but they didn’t fool me for a second. Katrina had started running the moment she saw me. She was frantically avoiding me, and I needed to find out why. “Stop lying!” I shouted back.
“Stop chasing me!” She countered furiously before sliding on a plastic bag in the middle of the corridor and landing squarely on her rump.
Desperately, she tried to pick herself up, but I was already hovering over her before she could get away. We both struggled to catch our breath before speaking. Katrina looked wildly around like she was trying to find an escape route. I didn’t dare lay my hands on her to detain her. Instead, I compelled her with my jewel green eyes, staring down at her fiercely as she propped herself up on her forearms and tried to stand up.
“Ow! I think I twisted my ankle,” she complained as she put weight on her left foot. “Oh, I can’t even stand on it! There could be a fracture!” She reluctantly lowered herself back to the floor and removed her shoe. Peeling her sock off, she exposed a badly swollen injury.
Bringing up the rear, Penelope and Mrs. Dollner arrived at my side. Together, we stood over the woman as I demanded, “Why did you tell me that you’re an office executive?”
“And why did you say your name is Katrina?” Mrs. Dollner gasped as she pointed to the nurse’s name tag that read: Nancy Norton. “Your name IS Nancy! I knew it! You made me think I was a senile old fool, but I’ve got the memory of an elephant, girl!”
“Are you just going to stand there asking me ridiculous questions or are you going to get me some help?” The nurse gritted.
“This is a hospital. I’m sure someone will be here to help you soon,” I said. “But first, you need to talk to us. Why did you come into my café the other day? Was it to plant those syringes and make it look like I’m guilty?”
“You found them? I was hoping the police would…” she quickly caught herself and went mute.
“You were hoping the police would what? Would find them and arrest me?” I conjectured as her lips remained tightly shut. “How did you know Ramiro? What made you want to kill him?”
“Are you out of your mind?” The nurse raged.
“No, she isn’t,” Mrs. Dollner said quietly. “I remember the conversation we had, Nancy. You were walking in the forest outside my cottage one morning while I was picking wildflowers. You said hello and struck up a conversation…”
“That never happened. You’re dotty!” Nancy shrieked.
“I’m not dotty and I’m not finished,” Mrs. Dollner said sternly as though she were addressing one of her disobedient grandchildren. “You were all smiles that day, chirping like the songbirds. And you told me the reason for your sunny attitude. You told me all about him.” Mrs. Dollner paused and closed her eyes as though trying to jog her memory. “I remember everything now! You told me you were dating a younger man from Spain, and I told you how we had something in common. In my youthful days, I also dated a young Spanish man.”
“You mean Santos?” I murmured, recalling a giggly girl talk Mrs. Dollner and I had once enjoyed.
“That’s right.” Mrs. Dollner nodded.
“So you dated Ramiro?” I surmised. “And then what? He dumped you? Is that why you killed him? Because you were scorned?” I arranged the pieces rapidly and they all fit.
“The rantings of a dotty old dame don’t make me a murderer!” Nancy denied the accusations.
“But it all makes sense. What did you put in the syringes? Poison? Sedatives? You’re a nurse! You would know the exact dosage to give to kill someone.” I stared at the fraudulent nurse insistently, but she refused to meet my eyes.
“You did kill my brother,” a soft voice materialized from a few steps behind us.
“Dahlia!” I exclaimed as my eyes traveled downward to her high heeled shoes. “Have you been following me?”
“Yes,” she admitted frankly. “I was going to follow you until I had proof that you murdered my brother. But now I see I was wrong. It was Nancy,” she said bitterly.
“You’re all nuts!” Nancy raved.
“Oh no, Nancy,” Dahlia shook her head angrily. “I remember when Ramiro didn’t want to see you anymore. I remember how you wouldn’t leave him alone. But I never thought you would have been the one to kill him. I was so stupid! I thought a nurse couldn’t do such a thing. I thought you were caring. How naïve I am!”
“Did you know that Ramiro had a date with me?” I guessed. “Was that the final straw for you?”
“I knew about your date,” Nancy said. “But I didn’t kill him!”
“How did you know about our date? Were you stalking him?” I probed as she pressed her mute button again and refused to talk.
“There are four people standing in front of you right now,” Dahlia said confidently. “You can lie until that ugly nurse’s uniform turns into a ballroom gown, but there are four witnesses right here who will tell the police otherwise.”
“That’s right,” I whispered, heaving a massive sigh of relief.
My nightmare was winding down to a peaceful ending and I wasn’t going to be arrested. I had the victim’s sister in my court now and I had the eyewitness testimony of Mrs. Dollner, a respected matriarch in the Candlewick Falls community.
“I think it’s safe to call Captain Davis now,” Penelope said cheerfully.
“Definitely,” I agreed.
“I’m sorry that I treated you so terribly,” Dahlia apologized softly as I held up a hand to stop her.
“Please don’t apologize. You were just being a good sister to Ramiro,” I assured her.
“Still, I feel very guilty,” Dahlia said heavily.
“Dear, there’s no time for guilt in this life,” Mrs. Dollner stated matter-of-factly. “Life is a garden and we’re all flowers that eventually wither. Some sooner than others.” She bowed her head as we silently meditated on Ramiro for a heartbeat.
“You’re right. I don’t know who you are, but you’re a wise woman,” Dahlia said.
“And a wise-cracking woman,” Penelope quipped, lightening up the moment.
“I put the wise in wise-cracking!” Mrs. Dollner winked as I laughed and wrapped her up in a tender hug.
***
One of my favorite hobbies is making Captain Davis eat his words with a knife and fork. Triumphantly, I marched into the police station with Mrs. Dollner, Penelope, and Dahlia at my side. Together we comprised an army of feminine potency. Sitting at his desk unsuspectingly flipping through paperwork, Captain Davis glanced up in surprise.
“Ladies,” he pronounced. “What can I do for you?”
“Nancy Norton killed my brother,” Dahlia announced curtly. “She’s at the hospital with an injured ankle and you need to arrest her.”
“Whoa! Whoa! Hold up a second. What are you talking about?” Captain Davis set the papers down and regarded us intently.
“You heard her,” I said boldly. “Nancy is a nurse at Midwestern Regional General Hospital. She killed Ramiro with some sort of lethal injection. That’s why there was no blood at the scene and no evidence of violence.”
“Give him the syringes,” Penelope urged.
Taking the wrapped needles out of my purse, I continued, “And she planted these in my coffee shop to make me look like the killer.”
“These are some bold statements, ladies. Care to offer a motive?” Captain Davis grumbled, clearly irritated that he wasn’t going to solve the mystery himself.
“Passion. Lust. Jealousy. The classic motives,” Mrs. Dollner declared before retelling her encounter in the forest with Nancy.
Captain Davis remained grim-faced but not skeptical. A knock sounded at the door as a police officer of lower rank tentatively walked in. “The autopsy report in the L
asMontes case just came in,” he announced.
“Put it here,” Davis commanded gruffly as the officer placed the manila envelope on his desk.
“Open it,” Dahlia urged. “I need to know exactly what killed my brother.”
The raw emotion in her voice was too compelling for even the hardest of hearts to resist. Swiftly, Captain Davis tore the envelope open and shared the results. “Cause of death…acute morphine overdose by intravenous method. Death ruled a homicide.”
“Morphine,” Dahlia breathed. “Of course. Who else would have access to that drug? Only someone who works in a hospital. At least I know my brother probably didn’t suffer. I hope…”
Lowering his gaze to the floor, Captain Davis picked up the phone and ordered, “We need to question a Ms. Nancy Norton at the general hospital. Now!”
Scrambling out of his seat with the autopsy report in hand, he fixed me with a sheepish look. “Miss Locke, it looks like I doubted the wrong person once again. I’m sorry.”
“So three strikes and I’m not out, right?” I said impudently. “Third time is the charm…so to speak.”
“Oh yes, you are a charmer,” Captain Davis said sarcastically as he escorted us out of his office.
“Glad you know it,” I said pertly, floating on air out of the police station and into the infinite possibilities of my precious freedom.
***
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Spring Tea Party at Marisa’s Apartment
A calming breeze wove through the window, rustling my loose waves as I sipped a refreshing cup of lemon bliss tea. Feeling the joy of spring in the air, I had invited a few ladies over for an impromptu tea party. Mrs. Dollner had baked a spiced cherry orchard pie for the occasion, and Penelope had brought a tub of homemade vanilla bean ice cream.
“I hope Mom gets here soon. I really want to dig into that pie!” Penelope said hungrily as she took an unenthusiastic sip of tea.
Small Town Spooky (Cozy Mystery Anthology) Page 21
