by Dawn Eastman
Katie would think about how to get the information to Chief Carlson later. Maybe she could convince the ladies to talk to him in spite of his shenanigan-filled youth.
15
Katie moved to the next room and pulled the chart out of the holder, only glancing at the name. Before she knocked, she stopped and looked at the chart again. She flipped open the folder to see why Christopher Riley would be there to see her. He usually went to Emmett. Under “reason for visit,” Angie had written, “insomnia.”
Katie took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Hello, Mr. Riley.” Katie held out her hand to him, and they shook.
“Dr. LeClair.”
Katie sat on the wheeled stool and flipped his chart open on the counter. “What can I do for you today? Angie says you’re having trouble sleeping.”
“No, I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you. I work evenings, and you work during the day, so I thought the easiest way would be to just make an appointment.”
“I see.” Katie closed the folder and turned to face him. “How can I help?”
Christopher looked at the floor and fiddled with his wedding ring. “I know Ellen really liked you, and I wondered if she told you about anything that might have been bothering her.”
Katie chose her words carefully. “Not really. She said she was having trouble sleeping, but that was all.”
Christopher nodded. “I know she was worried.”
“Have you talked to Chief Carlson today?”
He looked up and met her eyes. “Yes, he told me this morning that they are treating her death . . .” He stopped and swallowed. “Treating it like a homicide. It was bad enough imagining she had killed herself, but murder is worse.”
He sat forward and put his face in his hands. Then he ran his fingers across his hair and looked at the ceiling.
Katie sat very still and waited.
“I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt her. Everyone loved her.”
“Is there any chance that one of her clients might have had an issue?”
Christopher shook his head. “All her clients see her for career or lifestyle advice. She helps them to figure out what they want to do and then helps them make a plan. She doesn’t—didn’t—see anyone for any serious psychiatric problems anymore.”
Christopher hesitated and then continued. “So she never said what was causing her sleeping trouble?”
Katie shook her head. “No.” Of course, she didn’t tell him that other people had shared their ideas of what might have been stressing Ellen. She wasn’t sure whether Christopher really wanted information or was just fishing to see if she knew anything. The second thought had her on alert.
“I wish I had come home early that night,” he said. “I was going to, and then I got hung up in a meeting until after six. I was halfway home when Beth called to say Ellen was being taken to the ER.”
Katie studied him carefully. He didn’t seem to be lying. She had developed an ability to suss out lies during her training. Gabrielle was right; everybody lied, and a doctor needed to be a good lie detector. But she wasn’t picking up on any signals that he wasn’t telling the truth. Katie wondered if John had checked his alibi. And whether he would share that information with her. If Christopher was telling the truth, who had Mrs. Peabody seen that night?
And why was he here? To find out what was bothering Ellen or to find out how much she, Katie, knew?
“I’m sorry I can’t shed any more light on this for you. Her last visit was pretty routine.”
He nodded. “Thank you for listening. I just feel like my whole life has been upended. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I relied on her.”
He stood, and Katie shook his hand. He left the room, but Katie lingered for a moment, clutching his chart.
She went out into the hall to see that every room had a flag signaling a patient ready and waiting. She took a deep breath and went to the next room.
She grabbed the chart and smiled. A well-baby visit. Six months; pretty much the best age for a doctor visit. Babies were smiling by then but not yet afraid of strangers. Katie rapped on the door and stepped inside.
Three hours later, Katie sat in her office with a stack of charts to write notes in and another list of phone calls to make. She knew she wouldn’t get through it all without some coffee. Her mind kept drifting to Ellen’s murder and all the unanswered questions in her notebook.
She headed for the break room. As she turned the corner in the back hall, she saw Angie slip quietly into Emmett’s office. It wasn’t unusual for the nurses to be in and out of doctor’s offices to leave messages or charts. But the way Angie glanced up and down the hall and clicked the door shut behind her caused Katie to walk past the break room and tiptoe toward Emmett’s office door.
She stopped when she heard voices inside. She looked down the hallway to be sure no one was witnessing her brazen eavesdropping.
“I can’t figure it . . .” Angie’s voice said, but Katie couldn’t hear the rest.
Emmett’s response was a low mumble. Why didn’t they speak up?
“We have to do . . .”
There was silence, and then Emmett’s voice again—too quiet to hear.
Katie, worried she would be caught eavesdropping and with nothing to show for it, turned to head back to the break room. She had just stepped inside when she heard Emmett’s door click open again.
“Just let me know what you want to do,” Angie said. Katie heard her walk down the hall and turn toward the front desk.
Katie saw her opportunity and marched back down the hall to Emmett’s office. Something was going on with the practice, and she had a right to know what it was.
She knocked on Emmett’s door.
“Come in,” Emmett said.
Katie swung the door open, stepped inside, and shut it again.
Emmett smiled warmly at Katie. “Katie, how are you? I heard the news about Ellen Riley—such a shock. I can’t remember the last time there was a murder in Baxter.”
Emmett gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Katie sat.
“It’s been quite a roller coaster this past week,” Katie said, “but I wanted to ask you about something else.”
“Oh, yes? Everything going okay in the office?”
Katie nodded. “Yes, everything is fine. It’s just . . .” Katie took a deep breath. “I was wondering if any medications had gone missing recently. From the drug cabinet.”
Emmett sat back in his chair, and his smile faded.
“What have you heard?”
Katie shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything. I was here yesterday to look at a chart, and I found Nick in the med room. He said he was doing inventory.”
She noticed Emmett’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of Nick.
“I just figured he wouldn’t be checking drug supplies unless something was up.”
Emmett relaxed again and then nodded. “There have been a couple of discrepancies, and we’ve been looking into it. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“You do know that Ellen Riley was killed with a Demerol overdose?”
“What? No. I hadn’t heard that part.” Emmett swiveled his chair and looked out the window for a moment. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with us.”
“I think it might have something to do with the practice,” Katie said.
Emmett swung his chair around. “What do you mean?”
“The police originally thought Ellen had killed herself with an overdose of diazepam. A prescription with my name on it.”
Emmett looked down at his desk. “I had heard something about that. I should have talked to you earlier. You can’t blame yourself, Katie. We can’t control everything.”
“I don’t blame myself.” Katie heard the edge in her voice and took a moment to calm down. “First of all, she wasn’t killed with diazepam, and secondly, I didn’t write the prescription.”
Emmett glanced up sharply and met her eyes. �
�What are you saying?”
“Someone wrote a prescription using our prescription pads and my name,” Katie said. “I’ve looked through all the records, and it’s not listed anywhere.”
“This is troubling,” Emmett said. “I’ll talk to Angie, and we’ll try to get to the bottom of it as well as the . . . other discrepancies.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Thank you, but I think Angie and I have it well in hand.”
Katie doubted that was true, but she didn’t want to push him just yet.
“Well, I’d better get back to my office. Those notes aren’t going to write themselves.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Emmett smiled briefly.
Katie left his office wondering how he planned to “get to the bottom” of it.
She still felt the need for caffeine and stopped at the break room on her way to her office. It smelled of burned toast and stale coffee. She approached the coffeepot with trepidation. At this time of day, there was no telling how thick the brew had become. She dumped the pot and rinsed everything. Then she loaded a new filter and coffee grounds into the basket, filled the water tank, and pushed the button. While she waited, she glanced out the window toward the parking lot. It was mostly empty this late in the day; the front desk staff had gone home and only Katie’s, Angie’s, and Emmett’s cars sat in the lot. As she watched, an old white van pulled in and parked. Marilyn climbed out and went to the back to remove her supplies.
A man walked out of the woods along the path and approached her. She set her things down to talk to him. Marilyn stood with arms crossed while he talked. Although his back was to her, Katie sensed something familiar about him. It was just at the edge of her brain when the coffeemaker began hissing. She hadn’t put the pot back under the basket, and brown liquid ran everywhere.
She shoved the pot underneath the stream of coffee and yanked a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser. The burned coffee smell permeated the room, and by the time she was done cleaning up the mess, the man was gone and Marilyn was lugging her supplies across the parking lot.
16
Tuesday morning, Katie could barely focus on her patients. Her mind was on Ellen Riley, Nick, and Christopher. Her clinic was overbooked again because they were closing early to attend Ellen’s memorial service. Katie ran late all morning, and by the time she’d seen the last patient, everyone but Debra had left for lunch and the memorial.
Debra offered to drive them both, and Katie gratefully accepted. She didn’t want to walk into the reception alone. She felt like it was still somehow her fault that Ellen was dead. As if she should have known that Ellen’s life was going to be cut short. Logically, she knew she wasn’t to blame, but facing a room full of Ellen’s friends and family was daunting.
Going to the ceremony with Debra could also support her plan to observe the mourners and gather more information on the people close to Ellen. Debra knew everything about everyone, and for once Katie was hoping to hear some gossip.
Debra led her to a small Ford sedan. The passenger seat was cluttered with takeout bags, magazines, and a worn stuffed dolphin. Katie waited while Debra scooped everything up and dumped it in the back seat, where a toddler’s car seat and more childcare clutter awaited. Katie gingerly sat down and buckled her seat belt.
Debra put the car in drive and screeched out of the parking lot. Katie gripped the door handle until her knuckles turned white.
Debra’s life was truly an open book. She was more upset when people didn’t know her business than when they did. She began to fill Katie in on her list of concerns.
“So I said to Sean, ‘We have got to have more sex.’ I mean, we all have needs, right?” Debra turned to Katie for affirmation.
Katie gestured at the road. “Stop sign.”
Debra slammed on the brakes and apparently assessed the cross street with her peripheral vision before zipping into the intersection. “So he’s mad now and says I’m pressuring him. It’s not like I’m asking for multiple times a day. Although there was a time . . .”
Katie coughed.
Debra stopped and looked at Katie again. “Is this one of those things?”
Katie nodded. She had tried to instill the concept of “need to know” in Debra.
“Okay. But do you think I went too far? I mean, medically, I’m just wondering what’s normal. He thinks I’m over the top, but I just told him how I felt . . .”
“That’s always the best way,” Katie interrupted. “Tell him how you feel and try to reach a compromise.”
Debra nodded. “I know I’m a bit of an oversharer. I guess it comes from being the youngest in a big family—if I didn’t tell my parents I was there, they’d have forgotten all about me.”
“If this is something that is really bothering you, I can give you a list of therapists to talk to. It’s not something we can solve in a five-minute car ride.”
“I don’t think I need that!” Debra said. “But I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
Thankfully, they arrived at the funeral home, and all conversation stopped as they got out of the car and headed inside.
Soothing watercolor prints adorned the gray walls in the large room. Soft classical music played from speakers mounted to the ceiling. The mourners quietly filed in. Christopher, Beth, and a young man stood at the front of the room accepting condolences.
“That’s Dan, Christopher’s son,” Debra said. “I could tell you a few stories about him . . .” Just then Debra’s attention was distracted by her good friend Lois from the Clip ’n’ Curl, Baxter’s other main source of information distribution.
Katie walked to the front and leaned in to hug Beth. As she did, Beth whispered in her ear. “I need to talk to you. This afternoon, maybe?”
Katie whispered back, “Call me later.”
Katie shook hands with Christopher and offered her condolences. She then turned to the young man standing next to Christopher.
“Dr. LeClair, this is my son, Dan. I don’t think you’ve met. He lives in Chicago.”
They shook hands and nodded, and Katie moved on. As she walked away, she felt someone watching her, and when she turned, Dan was staring right at her as if he didn’t like her. He quickly looked away and greeted the next person in line. It gave Katie a chill. She turned and bumped into Todd. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“No worries,” Todd said. “It’s pretty crowded.”
Katie looked around for Emmett. He had promised to meet her here.
After saying hello to several patients, she spotted her partner at the back. Making her way over to him wasn’t as easy as it seemed. She was stopped several times to acknowledge the people vying for her attention. She wasn’t sure where the interest came from and cynically decided that they wanted to talk to anyone who had been closely involved with Ellen. So few of Baxter’s residents had accepted Ellen in their midst that—even after two years—she was still considered a newcomer. Katie wondered how long it would take them to accept her.
Cecily Hawkins sat next to Emmett and bestowed a frosty smile on Katie as she sat down on his other side. Nick rushed in and took a seat next to Cecily just as the service began. Cecily sat stiffly and stared straight ahead. Katie couldn’t decide if she was saddened about Ellen’s passing or just upset to be there at all.
The service was brief but appropriate. Christopher’s comments were cut short by emotion, which surprised Katie, since he always seemed so controlled. Maybe she was wrong to suspect him. When Christopher left the podium to sit down, Katie glanced down her row. She was shocked to see tears streaming down Cecily’s face. Emmett handed her a handkerchief, and Nick tried to hold her hand, but she pulled it away and crossed her arms. Katie remembered that Ellen and Cecily had been close until just recently. With her suspicions of Nick at the forefront of her mind, she now wondered if Cecily could be involved. Could she have killed her friend out of jealousy? Cecily probably could have gotte
n into the clinic without much trouble. Katie’s fingers were itching to add ideas to her notebook, but she would have to wait.
Beth walked to the podium and said a few words about her mother’s work and how close they had always been, and that was the end. Everyone filed into the next room for coffee and dessert.
Katie followed the crowd, hoping to pick up clues about Ellen’s life and death. She recognized staff members from Riley’s restaurant who were there to support their boss. There was a group of women standing together by the coffee urn, patting each other’s backs and weeping quietly into tissues. Neighbors? Colleagues? Katie wasn’t sure and wished she knew more of the people in town.
She’d headed in their direction when an overheard line stopped her short.
“. . . can’t believe she’s here after the huge fight they had.”
“Cecily only sees things from one point of view—hers,” came the catty reply.
“I’m sure you’re right. Do you think there’s any truth . . .” The two women moved out of earshot and, short of following them around the room, Katie had to let that little tidbit go.
She’d just put a couple of cookies on a plate when someone bumped into her, and the cookies fell to the floor. She turned to see who had knocked into her and saw the whole crowd had scattered to the corners of the room. Todd’s nose was bleeding profusely, and he swung wildly at Dan. Christopher pushed his way through the crowd and stood between the two men.
“Both of you, stop it!” Christopher said. His face was red and contorted in anger.
Beth rushed up to Todd with a handful of napkins. Dan shook off his father’s hand and pushed his way through the crowd and out the door.
Katie had no wish to linger now that a fight had broken out.
She spotted Emmett across the room and moved through the crowd to tell him that she was leaving.
