"I need the charts of the patients I've starred. Reading through the notes leading to the codes might give us some clues. Could I take them home?"
"I'll pull them after the record clerk leaves. Would five thirty be too late to bring them by?"
"Sounds fine."
"What if whoever is doing this strikes before we have proof?"
"I think most of the problems occurred when both Molly and Teresa are working. They aren't together until Monday. We should have a plan by then."
"Sounds good. Same place."
"Except I'm on the second floor. Unless you have to go home, you could stay for dinner."
"Tonight is free. My mother's spending the weekend at my sister's."
I folded the papers and put them in my purse. “We'll solve this mess and learn the truth."
"And create a scandal."
"Afraid so, What will you do if Hudson House closes?"
"Find another job."
"I'll see you get credit for helping."
After I left, instead of driving home, I went to Richard's office to enlist his help.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 9
~
Treatment Initiated
-
When I entered the offices of Sloane and Broadhurst, I braced for an encounter with the nosy receptionist. Except, she wasn't at her desk. I heard Richard's deep voice. He didn't sound angry, just frustrated. Was the receptionist the recipient of his over-patient tone? When he paused, no one responded.
What now? Stay and barge in or go home and call? Since his office door was open, I decided to risk a peek.
He sat on the edge of his desk. “One more time. I am sorry you made the trip here. There was nothing between us other than two strangers who happened to sit side by side on the plane. Because we were staying at the same hotel, we shared a cab. I accepted your invitation to dinner and paid my share. I am involved with someone. I did not give you my phone number. I never saw you after that dinner. I do not know how you found me."
He gripped the receiver so tightly his knuckles blanched. What was going on? Could I help?
"You what?"
Who was he speaking to? I wouldn't leave before I knew the answer unless he showed me to the door.
"Do not call me again. Goodbye.” He slammed the receiver in the cradle. “Mrs. Miller, sorry to keep you waiting."
"You didn't. I just arrived, but you seem to have a problem."
He nodded. “Do I ever. She has called four times since lunch. I can't believe her nerve."
"Were you nice to her?"
He shook his head. “Polite. We talked on the plane. After the dinner, I avoided her. By dessert, she acted like we'd made a lifetime commitment."
"Guess you talked about your career."
"Among many things.” He raked his hair. “She drove all the way from Long Island to be with me."
He looked so desperate I wanted to pat his head and assure him all would be well. “Refuse her calls and make sure the receptionist knows."
"That's another story. She was fired. This woman is staying in the country with relatives.” He groaned. “She googled me. She's on her way here. Do you think I can hide out at your place until Jenna comes home?"
"Feel free and bring your laptop. I've more research for you.” If the woman could locate him on the internet, who knows what he could discover about my co-workers.
"No problem.” He winked. “What's for dinner?"
"I'll whip up something. My friend, Pauline, will join us. She's the Director of Nursing at Hudson House."
"Does the plot thicken?"
"Very much so. Did you learn anything about the Greene's?"
"A good bit.” He closed the laptop. “Let's go before the phone rings again."
"You said there's a story behind the fired receptionist."
"My partner overheard her discussing a client we're representing with the secretary of the firm on the other side."
"Unwise on her part.” I was glad I hadn't given her any information during my initial call. I reached the door and started downstairs.
As I paused at the foot, the door opened. A young woman tried to push past me. “Move out of the way,” she demanded. “I need to see my fiancee."
"Is he expecting you?"
"Would I be here if he wasn't.” She peered into the stairwell. “Richard, I knew you weren't busy. You can't brush me off after our time in Europe."
Richard's groan echoed. He repeated what he'd said to her on the phone. “If you don't stop harassing me, I'll make some calls. I'm in a relationship."
She fisted her hands on her hips. “That's a lie. Your receptionist said you're totally unattached. Tell your grandmother to go home so we can discuss our plans."
Richard handed me his laptop. “If you want to build a fantasy out of a cab ride and dinner, that's your problem."
'You kissed me."
He shook his head. “Why don't I remember that?"
"You would have if you hadn't been so tired from the flight.” She pouted. “I'd make a perfect lawyer's wife. My uncle's big in politics around here. He has connections."
"Not interested. I'm seeing someone."
She laughed. “That's a lie. Your receptionist told me you were free and they always know their bosses’ secrets. I had lunch with her today."
"Did she tell you she was fired this morning?” Richard took my arm.
"No way. She would have said."
We managed to slide past her. “You can always check to see if she's there,” I said. I heard her on the stairs and quickly exited.
When we reached my car, Richard opened the door. “Mind if I ride with you?"
"I'll drive you to your car. Where is it?"
"The community lot."
Moments later, Richard was safely in his car. He waved. “See you at the house."
As soon as I reached the apartment, I organized dinner. I boiled some potatoes, made a zesty cheese sauce and sauteed chicken breasts. With a tossed salad and brownies for dessert, the meal would be complete. While I waited for my guests, I boxed the jars of tea that covered the dining room table.
Richard arrived first. He held his laptop and a large bag. “A gift."
"You don't have to bring something every time I feed you."
"This time, I do. It's a necessity."
"What?"
"A coffeemaker and a pound of gourmet coffee. For those guests who don't drink tea and only tolerate the instant stuff."
I laughed. “Meaning yourself."
He nodded. “Do you mind?"
"As long as you show me how to operate it."
"No problem."
After the lesson, I sent him to the living room and gave him the information on Molly and Teresa, plus the search for any collectors among the dead. “See what you can learn. On the places where the nurses worked, see if you can discover increases of deaths while they worked at the facilities."
"Not sure that's possible, but I'll try.” A short time later, he popped into the room. “The last place Molly worked was a county facility in another state. There's no profit in murder at one of those."
I arched a brow. “Think of the possibilities for a clever person to perfect her skills."
He laughed. “I'm glad you're one of the good guys. As a criminal, you'd be awesome."
The timer on the oven sounded. I wrapped slices of ham around the chicken breasts, arranged slices of potatoes around the chicken, and covered them with the cheese sauce. Someone knocked.
Richard opened the door and took a box from Pauline. “Where do these go?"
"The dining room table.” I pointed to the door off the kitchen that had once been a bedroom.
"What is it?” he asked.
"Work for Pauline and me. Pauline, this curious young man is Richard Broadhurst."
He grinned. “Looks like she's dragged you into her game."
Pauline nodded. “Unfortunately, it's not a game.” She sighed.
“I suspected there was a problem with the evening staff, but one much less serious than what Kate discovered."
I put the salad on the table and turned to Richard. “How's the search? Any progress?"
"None on increased deaths elsewhere. Haven't started the other searches."
"What's he looking for?” Pauline asked.
"Anything he can find on the Greenes, Molly and Teresa."
"Their finances,” Richard said. “On the women any recent travel of large purchase.” He sat at the table. “This lady's a dynamite cook."
"I know,” Pauline said. “She used to feed our group when we studied for exams or worked on projects."
The oven timer buzzed. I removed the casserole. “Let's eat. Then it's to work.'
Richard's sounds of approval warmed me. We concentrated on the food and small talk.
After dinner, Richard returned to the computer search. Pauline and I settled at one end of the dining room table and divided the charts. I handed her a notepad.
"Exactly what are we looking for?” she asked.
"Diagnosis, meds, the nurses’ notes, the doctor's reports and the codes. Look for things that point to a change in the patient's condition and what if anything was done."
"Do you think Dr. Bragg is involved?"
"Something in the tone of her voice made me look up. Her concern was personal rather than professional. “I don't think so, but we can't rule anyone out yet."
She leaned forward. “He can't be."
"Is he a friend?"
"I knew him in Chicago. Even told him about this job after his accident. He could be the one I've been looking for."
"So we'll rule him out first.” I opened Martha's chart and began to take notes. She'd been on iron, a diuretic and a mild hypertensive drug. Why had her hands and feet been edematous?
I read the nurses’ notes for the day she'd died and saw the doctor had been in during the early afternoon and recommended she be transferred to the hospital if her condition worsened. There was no mention of a refusal or a second call to the doctor until the code. Hadn't Molly said she was waiting for a call? Why hadn't she noted this on the chart? I noticed all Martha's meds had been given by the day nurse. Would the search need to be expanded?
I looked up. “Do me a favor."
"Sure,” Pauline said.
"I believe Mr. Greene will be the next victim. Slip one of the diuretics from his bottle so we can see if he's receiving the proper drug and dosage."
"Why would you think he wasn't?"
"The last time I saw her, Martha was edematous. If she'd been receiving her diuretic that shouldn't have happened. Also check with Dr. Bragg to see if he remembers the evening nurses calling him around five and asking him to come and see Martha. I'm positive Molly said they were waiting for a call from him. There's nothing in the notes."
We worked in silence for a time and turned the last pages in unison. “Now what?” Pauline asked.
"Now we talk about what we've discovered."
I began with Martha. She'd died minutes after the code had begun. She'd been in atrial fibrillation when they'd found her. One of the men had been found in a profound coma and may have had convulsions. Two other patients presented symptoms that made me think of Potassium overload. Those Pauline read off followed similar patterns to Martha's. The code notes showed my two suspects had been present at all the codes.
Pauline released a deep sigh. “You're right. They were murdered, but unless the bodies are exhumed, there's no way to prove that was the case."
I nodded. “That is what has kept me from dropping all this in the hands of the police."
"I'll go by Hudson House tomorrow and take one of the pills. Then what?"
"The pharmacist on Main Street is an old friend. Use my name. I would go with you but I'll be tied up all day at St. Stephen's for the Spring Bazaar. Make sure you let him know the dosage Mr. Greene's supposed to receive."
Richard appeared in the doorway. “Break time."
"Learn anything."
"Teresa bought a house in Orlando a year ago. Makes a nice profit renting it to tourists."
"And Molly?” Pauline asked.
"No dirt yet. I can't hack into their bank accounts."
I shook my head. “Though I'd like to know more about their finances, I wouldn't want you to go that far. The police can do that."
He leaned against the doorframe. “Jenna should be home in an hour?"
"Do you want dessert?"
"Never thought you'd ask.” He brewed more coffee and settled at the kitchen table. “What are we having tonight?"
Pauline laughed. “None for me. Just tea."
I topped two nut-filled brownies with ice cream and drizzled caramel sauce over the top.
Richard ate his and part of mine. “You're going to spoil me.” He rose. “I'll leave my laptop here and pick it up tomorrow.” He started downstairs.
I followed him to the door. “Be sure to tell Jenna about your stalker. Who knows where that woman will show up next."
He groaned. “I'd rather believe she got the message that I'm not interested."
"Her type seldom do."
After he left, Pauline and I reassembled the charts and carried them to her car. She caught my hand. “Are you sure Mr. Greene is next?"
"Not a hundred percent, but there is no other patient who fits the pattern of the others. With every one, there were family quarrels reported."
She nodded. “Even with your friend."
I closed the car door. “See you Monday."
"Or before. If I learn anything, I'll drop by St. Stephen's."
"The bazaar runs from ten AM to 4 PM."
* * * *
Saturday, I woke to bright sunlight and a cloudless sky. Since I would be on my feet for most of the day, I skipped my usual walk. Seconds before I heard the thud of feet on the stairs, Robespierre pushed through the cat door. I peered down the stairwell. Pete and Robby were on their way.
"Hi, Grandma Mrs. Miller. Mom sent us to bring stuff to the church.” He bounded into the room. His gaze focused on the cake container on the table. “Can I have a piece?"
"At the church, but you'll have to buy the piece. There will be other great cakes. One of these will be sold for chances."
"Bet you should have made more."
I laughed. “Probably."
Robby looked up. “What does chances mean?"
"That you buy a ticket and if they call your number, you win.” Pete said. “You need to pray a lot."
"Then I won't buy any. You gotta save your prayers for ‘portant things. Can I have a cookie?"
Pete winked. “How about cookies as wages for our help?"
"The pair of you. All right, two here and two at the church. From the open tin.” I pulled a five-dollar bill from my pocket. “Since you're my adopted grandson, use this to buy something at the bazaar."
He hugged me. “Thanks."
Pete shook his head. “He's going to be majorally sick. Beth and I each gave him five and he's saved money from his allowance."
"He might surprise you.” I lifted the cake holders.
"What goes?” Pete asked.
"All the boxes on the dining room table, the cookie tins and boxes in here and the plants on the porch. Robby, you carry some of the cookies. I'll bring the cakes."
As we passed the door of the downstairs apartment, Jenna and Richard emerged. “How can we help?” he asked.
I told them about the things upstairs and on the porch. Jenna looked up. “Why not put the plants in my car. It's a hatchback."
"Good idea,” Richard said. “Can I have a cookie?"
Pete chuckled and held out his hand. “I'm Pete Duggan. I like a man who knows what he wants."
"Two cookies here and two at the church. Same as my other helpers. From the open tin,” I said.
"Sounds fair,” Richard said. “Jenna, come on."
"I'll load the plants. You can bring my cookies."
When our car c
aravan reached the church, the baked goods and teas were taken to Fellowship Hall. The plants were set on tables in the garden. I paused to see if there were any I wanted to purchase for my garden and decided on several. Three hostas for a shady spot beneath the trees, a pot of basil and one of chives.
Inside, I placed a selection of teas on a table and took the slip for the plants to Beth who manned the cash box.
Jenna and Richard waited for change. He held up a tin. Three dozen. Two of every kind you baked."
I handed Jenna a slip. “If you'd collect these plants for me and leave them on the porch, I'd appreciate."
"Sure.” She looked at the slip. “Will someone tell me which ones they are?"
"They will."
Before long, people, not only from the church, but also from the town and county, arrived. My job consisted of going from table to table restocking the items.
Marie bustled over. “This is our best year yet. We may be sold out before four. Let Sophie Garner push for a fashion show and I think she'll lose."
"I don't think that will be an issue."
"That young man with Jenna Taylor is a darling. He bought fifty chances on your cake. Said if he wins, he'll trust you to bring it home."
I chuckled. “At least it's for a good cause. The food pantry will be pleased. I'm glad we chose them this year."
"So am I. Doing things for others is best.” Marie nodded. “That's the argument I'll use at the Board meeting next week."
Someone called my name. I looked around and saw Pauline at the door. She waved. I hurried toward her. “What did you learn?"
"Not here."
The garden then.” She followed me to a secluded spot behind the former manse now used for church offices. “Tell me."
"Mr. Greene's diuretic isn't one, not even a generic brand. The pharmacist wasn't sure what the pill was. He's sending it to a chemist for analysis.” She sighed. “Kate, I'm glad you discovered this mess."
"How long will the analysis take?"
She shrugged. “Nothing will be done until Monday."
I groaned. “I'm working tomorrow. Maybe I can learn something. What did you do about the diuretic?"
"Made a switch. Put the other pills in the safe and labeled the envelope. Let's hope we can prevent a death. I was tempted to call our pharmacist to check every drug in the drawer."
Hudson House Murders [Book 4 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Page 12
