A Palette for Murder

by Sybil Johnson

  “Kit was there too. I wish he’d been able to tell us what he saw. There’s still the possibility one of Lance’s fans or one of Willow’s tenants did it. And, remember, there’s the blackmail angle.” Rory slowed down to let a car into the lane in front of her. “Hopefully, we’ll learn something in Santa Barbara that will give us a fresh clue.”

  “You know what we need? Music. It always helps me think.” Liz turned on the radio and began dancing in her seat to the beat.

  Rory looked over at her passenger and smiled. “I’m glad you’re not driving.”

  “I can drive and dance. I do it all the time.”

  “Remind me to stay off the road when you’re on it.”

  When Rory pulled into the parking lot of the hospital where Angel had worked, Liz consulted the notes Candy gave them. “We’re supposed to talk with a Dan Dominick. This says he’s a nurse, but doesn’t say what area of the hospital he’s in.”

  “I hope he’s here today. I didn’t think about calling ahead.”

  The volunteer at the information desk directed them to the floor where Dan worked. Before long, the two exited the elevator on the correct floor and followed the signs to the telemetry unit.

  “We’re looking for Dan Dominick. We were told he works on this floor,” Rory said to the first hospital employee she saw.

  The woman pointed toward a middle-aged man in navy blue scrubs walking down the hall toward them.

  “Dan?” Rory said.

  The man smiled at them. “That’s right. How can I help you?”

  “Do you have time to answer some questions about Wil—Angel Portrero? We understand you worked with her.”

  At the mention of the woman’s name the smile disappeared from his face.

  “Does this have something to do with that phone call the other day? That PI?”

  “That’s right. We’re associates of hers. We’re following up,” Liz said.

  “I was sorry to hear Angel’s dead, but whatever you need, I can’t help you. I told that PI everything I know.” He started to walk away.

  “Please,” Rory said. “Just talk to us for a few minutes. Candy will dock our pay if we don’t bring back a full report.”

  “Tough boss, huh? I’ve had my share of those.” He checked his watch. “My break’s coming up soon. Meet me in the cafeteria in ten minutes.”

  Rory and Liz headed for the cafeteria where they bought a late lunch and settled down at a table for four. Liz took a pen and a pad of paper out of her purse and placed them beside her tray.

  A short time later, Dan slid into an empty chair and placed a coffee cup on the table in front of him. “I haven’t got long. What do you want to know?”

  “You worked with Angel before she moved down south, right?” Rory said.

  “That’s right.”

  “We understand she left in a hurry.”

  “She got laid off. I already went over all of this with your boss. Cindy, right?”

  “It’s Candy. We’re just verifying everything for the report,” Liz said.

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re from the L.A. area? One of those beach cities? Seems a long way to come to verify information. What are you really after?”

  Rory looked around. Even though no one was within earshot, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Candy had the feeling there was something about Angel leaving you weren’t telling her.”

  Dan took a sip of coffee and looked down at his cup in contemplation as if considering his next move. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, looking each of them in the eye. “You can’t tell anyone other than your boss where you got this, okay? You can’t mention my name at all.”

  Rory and Liz nodded their agreement.

  “You’re right, I didn’t tell Candy everything. The layoff was a cover, a convenient way to hide the real reason Angel left.”

  Rory sucked in her breath in anticipation, silently willing him to continue.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this.”

  “Please, it’s important.” Liz laid her hand on his arm and batted her eyelashes.

  “Drugs went missing.” He stopped when a woman in scrubs walked by and looked at them curiously. His eye began to twitch, and he waited to continue until she sat down at a table out of earshot. “You can’t tell anyone I’m talking to you.”

  Liz jotted something down on her notepad. “We won’t. What kind of drugs?”

  “Antibiotics, painkillers, all kinds of things. Enough to open your own pharmacy.”

  “And you think she stole them?” Rory asked.

  “Not me. The hospital administration.”

  “Was she addicted to something?” Liz asked.

  “I never saw any signs of it. I got the impression she stole them to treat people on the QT. People who couldn’t afford it or didn’t want to come in for treatment.”

  “Like the homeless?” Rory asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Anyway, the administration started an investigation when they realized the drugs were missing and caught her red-handed.”

  “Why didn’t they just fire her?”

  “Didn’t think it would look good for the hospital. A layoff was on the books anyway, so they avoided any problems by letting her go. That’s all I know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell this to Candy over the phone?”

  “We were told never to talk about it. I like my job. I want to keep it.” Dan stood up. “Remember, you didn’t hear any of this from me.”

  “What do you think of that?” Liz asked after he left. “Wangel almost sounds like a saint, stealing drugs to help people in need. Sounds a little like your Tripp.”

  Rory blushed. “He wouldn’t steal drugs. He’d find a way to get them legally. And he’s not my Tripp.”

  “You’re still going out, aren’t you?”

  “It’s early days.” Rory put down her fork. “Let’s get back to Willow. I can’t call her Angel, it just doesn’t seem right. I don’t see how what she did here could have anything to do with her death.”

  “Unless she was doing the same thing down in Vista Beach,” Liz said.

  “She wasn’t a nurse anymore and didn’t work at a hospital so she wouldn’t have the same kind of access to drugs. It’s odd though,” Rory said thoughtfully. “Her attitude toward the homeless.”

  “What’s so odd about it? I’m sure there are a lot of doctors and nurses who try to help them. It’s in their DNA.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. When I left Kit’s bike in my mom’s store, Willow was there. She said some derogatory things about the homeless. Plus Veronica told me she started a petition to make the city ban them from the streets. I wonder what happened to change her mind. I can’t believe it was her thinking they’d stolen her glasses. And we still don’t know why she switched to herbal medicine.”

  “That’s obvious. She was blackballed after she was let go. Probably couldn’t find a job as a nurse anywhere after that. There’s lots of money to be made in alternative treatments.” Liz sat back in her chair. “I guess that’s all that we can learn here. Do you want to stop off at the outlet mall on the way home?”

  They were in the parking lot, standing by Rory’s car, when the same nurse who had been eyeing them in the cafeteria walked toward them.

  “I heard you talking to Dan about Angel. I don’t know if there’s been a funeral yet, but I want to contribute money toward flowers.” Without telling them her name, she shoved a folded bill into Rory’s hand and walked toward the hospital entrance.

  Rory stared after the woman. “She didn’t even give me a chance to thank her.”

  “That was odd,” Liz said. “How much did she give you?”

  Rory unfolded the bill to find a note tucked inside. “Ten dollars. And there’s a note.” On the piece of paper was a name and addre
ss in the Santa Barbara area. Underneath that was “He didn’t tell you the whole story. She’ll tell you the truth,” with the first word of the second sentence underlined.

  Rory handed the note to Liz. “Looks like we have a stop to make before we head home. The outlet mall will have to wait.”

  Chapter 29

  Rory entered the address from the note in the navigation app on her phone and followed the directions. She parked her sedan on the palm-tree-lined street in front of their destination and peered through the window at the single-story stucco house. An iron fence with broken and rusty spikes surrounded the tiny front yard full of drought-conscious landscaping.

  Liz double checked the address on the piece of paper. “This is it, all right. What’s the plan? Should I play real estate agent? It’s not my usual territory, but I could easily be scouting the neighborhood for a client.”

  “I think we need a more direct approach. We’ll ask about Willow and see where it takes us.” Rory opened her car door. “The woman who gave us the note must think this Delores is willing to talk.”

  “The direct approach. I like it.”

  Weeds encroached on the plants, tickling their ankles as they walked up the path to the front door. The eight notes of Westminster chimes sounded faintly through the wood door when they rang the bell. After standing on the doorstep for a considerable length of time, they came to the conclusion no one was home. They were turning away when the door finally opened, revealing a woman with gray hair using a walker. She peered at them through glasses so large they swallowed her face.

  “I’ve already found Jesus,” the woman said and started to close the door.

  “We’re not here to talk religion,” Rory said.

  “Or sell you anything, Mrs. Waitman. You are Delores Waitman, aren’t you?” Liz said in her sincerest tone of voice.

  The door slowly opened again. Delores peered at them curiously.

  “We want to talk to you about Angel Portrero,” Rory said before she could close the door again.

  Surprise turned to disbelief then anger on the older woman’s face. She studied them, her gaze checking out every inch of them, sizing them up. “What paper are you with?” she finally asked.

  “We’re not reporters. We just want to ask you a few questions,” Rory said.

  “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “Wait,” Rory said. “A nurse at the hospital sent us.”

  “Who?”

  “She never gave us her name, just handed us a note saying you could help us. Show it to her.” Rory nudged Liz, who handed the note over. As soon as the woman saw the handwriting, the belligerence went out of her face and she said in a more welcoming voice, “Come with me.”

  They followed her down a dark hallway into a comfortable room filled to the brim with furniture. Knickknacks and framed photos covered every horizontal surface. Delores carefully rolled her walker through a wide path between pieces of furniture, the other two following close behind. Rory scrunched in her shoulders, afraid she would knock something down. She breathed a sigh of relief when they navigated the area safely and were standing in a sitting area that contained a couch and chairs.

  “Have a seat.” Delores indicated a loveseat upholstered in a velvety fabric. “Would you two like iced tea or lemonade?”

  “No, thank you, we’re fine,” Rory said.

  “We wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble,” Liz added.

  The two took their places on the sofa while Delores settled down in a recliner and placed her walker to one side. No sooner had they all sat down when a black cat came out from behind a chair and eyed the newcomers curiously. After sniffing everyone’s legs, the cat gracefully jumped onto Rory’s lap, giving Liz a brief glance before resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes.

  “You must be good people. Maleficent doesn’t cotton to just anyone. Why did Janet send you? What did you want to know about Angel?” The woman practically spat out Willow’s former name. Sensing her displeasure, the cat opened its eyes and stared at Delores.

  Rory stroked Maleficent’s fur and before long, the cat closed her eyes again and went back to sleep. “We were asking at the hospital where she used to work about why she left. They said she stole drugs from the dispensary so they quietly let her go. Janet told us to ask you about it.”

  “Angel. I lost my son because of her. Some angel she turned out to be.”

  “Was your son homeless?”

  “Homeless? Where did you get that idea? He lived here with me, not because he couldn’t afford a place of his own, but because he was a good son and liked taking care of me and my house. I’m afraid the place isn’t as well kept up as it once was.” She gestured toward a photograph on the table beside the couch. “That’s him, right before he got sick. As you can see, he wasn’t homeless.”

  Rory picked up the silver frame and held it so Liz could look at it. The photo inside showed a tall middle-aged man dressed in casual clothes leaning against a classic 1960s Mustang. “Handsome,” she said, returning the frame to its place. “Sorry for your loss. We understood that she stole drugs to treat the homeless.”

  “Balderdash! Who told you that? Not Janet. She knows better. Angel didn’t use them to treat people. She used them to kill people.”

  Rory stared at her, unsure if she had heard correctly.

  “Close your mouths. It’s not a very attractive look on someone your age,” Delores said.

  “She was an angel of mercy?” Rory asked.

  “Some mercy. She killed people who were nowhere near death. She killed my Reggie. He had cancer. The treatment was working. His doctors were optimistic. Sure, he was in pain, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. She decided it was time for him to go. It wasn’t. It wasn’t his time!” She pounded the arm of the recliner with her right hand. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

  “How did she kill him?”

  “Injected morphine or something like that in his IV.”

  “Did you tell someone at the hospital?”

  “All they were concerned about was keeping their names out of the papers. They said there was no proof.” She leaned forward. “There were others, you know.”

  “Others?” Rory and Liz said at the same time.

  “How many?” Rory asked.

  “A half dozen at least. Those are the ones I know about. There were probably more.”

  “Did the police get involved?”

  “The hospital was too concerned about their reputation. Not exactly a good thing to have an angel of mercy on staff. Like you said, they quietly got rid of her. Hid it by doing it as part of a layoff.”

  “What about you? Did you go to the police?”

  “No proof, they said, but I know it was a cover-up, plain and simple.”

  “The hospital must have security cameras.”

  “Not in the rooms. Privacy concerns. All of the footage from the hallways was lost or damaged, some excuse like that. They fired her, but didn’t report her as far as I know. I called the other hospitals in the area and complained about her. I figured if I made enough of a racket, no one would hire her. None of them did, then I lost track of her. I figured she moved someplace else. I wish I could have done more. That was a while ago. Why are you asking about her now? Did she kill someone else?”

  “She’s dead,” Liz said.

  “Good. There is justice in this world.” Delores nodded her head in satisfaction. “She can’t hurt anyone else. I hope her illness was long and painful.”

  “She was murdered,” Rory said quietly.

  “Murdered? You don’t look like you’re from the police. Did she harm one of your relatives?” Delores looked at them thoughtfully. “No, you seemed too surprised when I told you about my son.”

  “We’re working with a private investigator south of here in Vista Beach, following up
for her,” Rory said, opting to continue with the cover story they had used at the hospital in case the woman checked up on them. “Thank you for your time.” She gently pushed the cat off her lap and stood up. “We can see ourselves out.”

  “Nonsense.” Delores positioned her walker in front of her and pushed a button on the recliner. It tilted up, making it easier for her to stand, and she walked them to the front door.

  They were standing on the porch when the woman said, “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “For telling me about her. I’ll rest easier now knowing she’s no longer able to hurt anyone else. I hope she’s spending eternity writhing in hell for what she did.”

  Rory and Liz didn’t say anything until they were in the car.

  “Do you think it’s true?” Liz settled into the passenger seat and clicked her seatbelt in. “That Wangel killed patients?”

  “I don’t know why Delores would lie about it.” Rory started the car and pulled out onto the street.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to believe her son died of cancer.”

  “The hospital did fire Willow.”

  “Laid her off. For stealing drugs.”

  “So what was that about her helping the homeless?” Rory headed toward the freeway on-ramp.

  “Probably a cover story so no one would figure out the true reason she stole the drugs.”

  “Do you think Zoe could have been one of her victims?”

  “Not sure the timing’s right. Hold on, I took some notes.” Liz dug around in her purse and produced a notepad. “I wrote down the date on Zoe’s death certificate. And here’s the date Wangel was fired from the info Candy gave us. No, Angel was no longer working at the hospital when Zoe died. And, according to the death certificate, she died there.”

  As they headed back home, Rory thought about what they’d learned. If everything Delores had told them was true, their suspect list for Willow’s murder had now become much longer and she had no idea how to discover the identity of a single one of them.