The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2)

Home > Other > The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2) > Page 5
The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2) Page 5

by Linda Watkins


  Steve moved aside so the little girl could see the nursing pups. “Three boys and two girls,” he said. “They all look healthy and Mom seems to have plenty of milk.”

  “How are we going to get them out to the car?” Lila’s mother asked.

  Steve stood. “Sandy can walk on lead. We must have a box somewhere in the back we can put the pups in. I’ll go look.”

  While Steve rummaged in the back, I instructed Lila’s mom in the care of the child’s wound and made an appointment for her to return in about ten days to have the sutures removed.

  Finally, we escorted a very tired Sandy and her five pups out to the waiting pick-up. Lila gave Steve a hug, then turned to me and offered her hand.

  “Thanks, Doctor Pomeroy. I know you don’t take care of dogs usually, but Sandy would’ve died if you hadn’t helped. My mom and I will remember, for sure. And, I’ll take good care of the pups, especially the brindle one.”

  Her mother grinned. “I’ll be bringing by that pie by later this week.” Then she glanced at Steve. “I won’t be forgetting the scones either. We thank you and Dr. Pomeroy with all our hearts, don’t we, Lila?”

  The little girl nodded then clamored into the back of their truck with the dogs.

  Steve and I watched them leave.

  “Well, that takes care of the lunch hour,” I said, thinking sadly of the tuna sandwich that sat waiting for me in the clinic refrigerator.

  “Yeah,” said Steve. “But I think we’ll get a short break in an hour or so. Don’t give up on food yet!”

  We got that break Steve anticipated and I ate my sandwich. When I was done, I sat down with my laptop and composed an email to the friend I’d told Jeremy about. The man, a full Professor of Psychiatry at Berkeley, was not really a friend but, rather, was a teacher I had taken a class from when he was a visiting professor at UCLA. I doubted he’d remember me, but he was also a colleague of my father’s, so, perhaps, my name would ring a bell.

  I laid out the facts of what had happened last summer – how I had overheard a conversation at Memorial that started everything. My uncle and his co-conspirator, Vlad, worried that I might repeat what I had heard to someone in authority, planned to incapacitate me with experimental psychogenic drugs, hoping to make me look insane. Their goal was to have me committed to an asylum so, if I ever figured out what that conversation was really about, no one would believe me. My aunt was also part of the conspiracy and, together with her husband, they sent me to Storm Island. The last time I had been here I was just a little girl and had the misfortune to find my mother’s dead body hanging in the tower room. Back then, it was believed to be a suicide, but I proved that assumption wrong last summer. My mother was murdered by my uncle because, like me, knew too much.

  I described for the professor how my father had been murdered and how my uncle set the scene to frame me for the crime. I gave him a list of the drugs I knew I’d been given, although most were experimental and were only known by alphanumeric coding.

  When I finished the email, I knew I had left out some significant details. But telling this man of science about a little stone silo that only I could see just seemed a tad ludicrous.

  Finally done, I hit the “send” button and closed down the computer. It was time to get back to work.

  The rest of the day went by swiftly and by five o’clock I was beat.

  “Good first day,” I said to Steve and Nadia. “Thank you both. We make a great team. I’ll finish up my notes at home. See you guys in the morning!”

  When I got back to the Carriage House, I took a quick shower. I was spending the night again at Jeremy’s. I packed an overnight case, then drove to his house.

  Jeremy greeted me at the door and ushered me into the living room, where a fire was blazing away in the woodstove.

  “I’m going to start the grill,” he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You think you can handle putting together a salad after your first day at work?”

  I could see from the twinkle in his eye that he was joshing with me, so I gave him a quick punch in the arm. “I think I can handle it.”

  He laughed. “Okay, I’ve got water on the stove for some clams that are hanging outside off the dock. If it starts to boil, let me know.”

  11

  The Old Man

  Dinner Disaster

  “HERE WE GO,” Mary said as she placed a plate in front of the old man. “Everything just the way you like it.”

  Ian Morrison eyed the plate – steak with baked potato and all the fixings. He watched as Mary served her husband and, finally, took her place at the foot of the table.

  “Looks wonderful, my dear,” said Terrance as he began to cut his meat.

  Mary smiled then glanced over at the old man. He was just sitting there staring at his plate.

  “Is anything wrong, Grandfather?” she asked.

  The old man said nothing, but picked up his steak knife and stared at it. Then he raised his eyes and glared at Mary.

  “Grandfather?” she asked. “Have I done...?”

  Without warning, the old man drove the knife into the oak table, scarring it. Then he lifted his plate and, with surprising agility, hurled it like a Frisbee directly at his granddaughter.

  Mary, stunned, watched the plate whirl through the air – meat, potatoes, and gravy flying. It hit her dead on, right at the bridge of her nose. Remnants of what had been the old man’s evening meal dripped down her face and mingled nastily with blood from the wound the edge of the plate had inflicted.

  “Jesus, Grandfather!” screamed Terrance as he hurried to his wife’s side. “What’s the matter with you?”

  The old man smiled as he pushed his chair away from the table. “When I say I want a rare steak, I want a rare steak! Next time, I’ll fix it myself!”

  Without another word, he wheeled himself out of the room.

  Terrance used his napkin to wipe away the debris from his wife’s face. “I think he’s broken your nose, dear.”

  “Oh, Terry, it hurts,” Mary moaned.

  She was rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped around her body as if to keep it from coming apart.

  “There, there, now,” Terrance soothed. “Let’s get you to the bathroom so we can clean you up.”

  He helped her from her chair and supported her as they made their way to the master bedroom. As they passed the entry to the Great Room, Terrance glanced inside. The old man was sitting near the window, gazing out, a glass of scotch in his hand, acting as if nothing whatsoever had happened.

  Terrance scowled at him, but did nothing. He knew they were lucky. Back in the day, when the old man was at the peak of his powers, Mary would be suffering much more than a broken nose.

  Terrance gingerly cleaned the wound as best he could.

  “Here, Mary,” he said. “Take some Tylenol and I’ll get you an ice pack for the swelling. I think we should call Kate. I don’t know how to set a broken nose and I’m afraid I’ll only make matters worse.”

  “Kate? You want to call Kate? You want me to take her charity, all the while you and that horrible man are planning…?”

  “Shush,” Terrance whispered. “Keep your voice down. His hearing is still better than any dog’s. Yes, Kate. She’s a doctor and the only one around.”

  Mary took a deep breath. “Sorry. Go ahead. Call her.”

  Terrance nodded and left the room. When he came back, he handed Mary an ice pack. “She said for us to meet her at the clinic in fifteen minutes. Let me help you up.”

  Mary didn’t move.

  “What’s the matter, dear?”

  Mary sighed and stared at her husband.

  “Terry,” she finally said. “Do you have to go through with it?”

  Terrance frowned. “You know I do. He’s weak – weaker than I’ve ever seen him. And, this is his last transformation. He may very likely not survive it. But he still commands power and, if I try to cross him, well, I don’t want to think about what that would mean.”

&n
bsp; “He has a fixation on Kate,” said Mary as she got unsteadily to her feet. “I saw it at the party. He wants to hurt her. I know it.”

  “That very well may be. But there’s nothing we can do about it. The process will start tomorrow. You, luckily, will be unable to attend.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” responded Mary.

  “Now, let’s get going. We don’t want to keep Kate waiting.”

  The old man watched them through the window as they got into their car.

  That woman brings out the worst in me, he thought. The cane. Yes, she needs to be chastened – and chastened severely. Terrance, too. He’ll get his comeuppance. Once the transformation is complete and I’m strong again, they’ll feel the sting of my wrath. Promises be damned!

  Ian Morrison smiled grimly, then poured himself another drink. They would be back soon and he’d have her fix him another meal, only this time it had better be perfect.

  12

  Kate

  An Emergency

  WE WERE RELAXING on the couch in front of the woodstove when my cell chimed. I got up and answered.

  “I have to go in,” I said to Jeremy after hanging up. “It seems Mary Morrison has broken her nose.”

  “Broken her nose?” he asked. “What happened? Did Terry clip her one?”

  I laughed. “No, I don’t think so. But something’s fishy. Terrance gave me some cock and bull story about her tripping on an area rug or something and hitting her nose on the edge of a table when she fell.”

  “Well, stranger things have happened.”

  “Yeah, you may be right. But there was something about his tone … something off. I hope I’m not dealing with spousal abuse here. They’re a strange couple, but they seem suited to each other, dontcha think?”

  “Yeah. They’re not your usual islanders. Oh, and I’m taking them out tomorrow. Seems that old geezer wants to ride on a lobster boat. Weather’s expected to be clear, so I agreed. Terry’s paying top dollar.”

  At the mention of that old man, a shiver ran down my spine. I tried to suppress my irrational fear.

  “I don’t envy you,” I finally said. “I wouldn’t want to spend the day with that old guy. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about him that’s not right. I actually think he’s more capable of breaking Mary’s nose than Terrance is.”

  Jeremy grinned. “Don’t worry, I think I can handle him. You go on now. You don’t want to keep Mary’s nose waiting.”

  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Record the rest of that movie. I want to watch it when I get back.”

  “Got it.”

  I grabbed my down jacket and headed for the door, blowing Jeremy a kiss as I left.

  Terrance and Mary were waiting on the clinic steps when I arrived. Mary was holding what I assumed was an icepack to her nose. Terrance had his arm around her.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” I said as I unlocked the door.

  I turned on the lights, then escorted the couple to one of the exam rooms. “You have a seat on the table, Mary. I’ll be right back.”

  I grabbed a white coat and stethoscope from the closet then switched on the computer in the reception area. I got my tablet from my desk and headed back to the exam room.

  “Okay,” I said as I entered. “Let me take a look at that nose.”

  Gently, I proceeded with the examination.

  When I finished, I stood back. “If you want, Mary, I can do an adjustment here in the clinic to realign your nose. Or, we can stabilize you and you can go to the mainland in the morning. The choice is yours.”

  “Will it hurt?” she asked hesitantly.

  I smiled. “I’ll give you a couple shots of anesthetic to numb the area. When they wear off there will be pain, but I’ll give you meds to help control it.”

  “Okay,” she responded with a small grin. “I trust you. Go ahead.”

  Forty-five minutes later we were through. I gave Mary some pain pills to take home with her.

  “If you need more, let me know and I’ll write you a script. However, I don’t want to over-medicate. Also, you’re going to have a couple of beautiful shiners tomorrow. So, don’t be surprised.”

  “Thank you, Kate. Having you here is a lifesaver.”

  “Here, let me help you, dear,” said Terrance, assisting Mary to her feet. “Kate, I’m sorry, I just realized in the rush to get here I forgot to bring my insurance card.”

  I smiled. “Terrance, I wouldn’t know what to do with it if you had it! Why don’t you bring it by tomorrow? Nadia will take care of the billing. Oh, and, Mary, if you have any problems, let me know. Make an appointment in a couple days so I can check on how you’re healing.”

  Terrance smiled. “I’ll make sure she does, Kate. I’ll bring my info by in the morning. You know we’re going out with Jeremy tomorrow, don’t you? Can you let him know he’ll have one less passenger?”

  “No problem. I’ll tell him.”

  “And – I know this may be an imposition, but could I rent one of those fancy wheelchairs you have for the day? I’m afraid we’ll never be able to maneuver that dinosaur of Grandfather’s onto the boat.”

  “Again, no problem. Just stop by in the morning and talk to Nadia. Now, go home and get some rest. Call me if you need me.”

  The Morrisons thanked me again and went on their way. I wrote a quick note for Nadia and Steve, then turned off the lights, locked up, and headed back to Jeremy’s.

  When I got there, Jeremy was dozing on the couch. He woke when he heard the door open.

  “How’s Miss Mary’s nose?” he asked.

  “Straighter now than it was. Oh, and she won’t be coming with you tomorrow. It’ll just be you, Terrance, and his grandfather.”

  “Sounds like fun. Now, come over here and snuggle. I want to see the end of that movie.”

  13

  Kate

  Another Emergency

  THE NEXT DAY, I was off early to the clinic. Terrance stopped by just after we opened, gave Nadia his insurance information, and put down a deposit on the wheelchair he was borrowing.

  I spent the day seeing patients and catching up on paperwork. I was, once again, spending the night at Jeremy’s so, when my day’s work was over, I headed down the road to his place.

  The house was dark when I got there which surprised me. It was after five and I’d expected him home by now. I retrieved the key from under a potted plant on the porch and went inside.

  The place was chilly so I grabbed a canvas L.L. Bean carrier, went outside, and got some logs. I put a couple in the woodstove, adding two or three pieces of fat wood, and, in no time, I had a fire going. Satisfied, I went to the kitchen to see what I could do about dinner. It would be nice to have something started when Jeremy got home.

  Finding some haddock in the fridge, I seasoned it and placed it in the oven at 350 degrees and hoped it would make some culinary magic. When that was done, I put together a big, green salad and set some water to boil to wilt a bunch of spinach.

  Proud of my handiwork, I sat down in front of the woodstove, pulled out my laptop, and began to read the latest issue of JAMA.

  I was immersed in an article describing a new technique for hernia repair when the buzzer went off on the stove. I checked my watch. It was after six p.m. Where was Jeremy?

  The fish was done and, not wanting to overcook it, I turned the oven down to warm.

  I looked out the front window, but there was no sign of his truck approaching. Getting more than a little worried, I checked my phone to make sure it was charged and the ringer turned on. Then I looked for texts and/or emails.

  Nothing.

  Becoming increasingly concerned, I opened up my contacts and speed-dialed the boatyard.

  The phone rang and rang. Finally, someone picked up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. This is Kate Pomeroy. I was wondering if you could tell me if Jeremy Bradshaw’s boat is back.”

  “Oh, hi, Ka
te. It’s Smitty. I think he got back about an hour ago. His truck was still in the lot last I looked. If you can hang on, I’ll check to see if it’s still there.”

  “I can hold.”

  I waited impatiently for Smitty to return. I was puzzled. If Jeremy got in an hour ago, what was he doing hanging around down there? He knew I’d be expecting him for dinner.

  Finally, Smitty picked up the line.

  “It’s gone. Must have left a few minutes ago. He should be home soon.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Smitty. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No problemo, Dr. Pomeroy. You and Jeremy have a nice evening.”

  He hung up and I walked back over to the window. Still no sign of him.

  My anxiety was, once again, beginning to climb. Maybe he’d had an accident on the short ride home? Should I call the constable?

  I was about to phone for help, when I heard the squeal of tires outside. I ran to the window.

  Jeremy’s truck was in the driveway, lights on, ignition still running. The driver’s side door was open.

  In the automatic light illuminating the cab, I could see a body slumped over the steering wheel, motionless.

  “Jeremy!” I screamed as I ran toward the truck.

  When I reached the door, I leaned inside, putting my hand on his neck. It was hot – abnormally hot.

  Fever!

  I saw a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. I grabbed it and, using my hand, began to dribble it onto his face and the back of his neck. The cool water began to revive him.

  “Katy,” he mumbled.

  “I’m here. You’ve got a fever. We need to get inside. Let me help you.”

 

‹ Prev