Suspicious Circumstances

by Rita Herron

  “That’s not necessary,” Peyton said. “I have to relieve the nurse who took over my patients today and check on Mama. She’ll be wondering where I am.”

  He stood ramrod straight, his look so intense that a shudder coursed up her spine. Then he removed a card from his pocket and offered it to her. “Ms. Weiss, please call me if you remember anything else about the night Inman’s wife died, or about the night of the fire.” His gaze settled over her, rattling her even more. “I know you want justice in both matters just as I do.”

  Guilt nearly choked her, but she simply nodded and took the card. His fingers felt warm as they brushed hers, a sharp contrast to the coldness in his eyes. She wondered if he ever smiled.

  It didn’t matter, she told herself as she unlocked her door and hurried to change into her scrubs. He was FBI.

  As soon as she was dressed, she texted Joanna that she was back. She spent the next three hours tending to her assigned patients and doling out medications, then helping them to PT and to dinner. Her mother looked agitated when she joined her at their usual table.

  “This strange man was here today,” her mother said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  Agent Maverick hadn’t spoken to her mother. He’d come straight to her place. “A man? Who was it?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice cracked the way it did sometimes when she struggled with her words. “But I didn’t like him. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat.”

  Maybe her mother was just confused. Sometimes her memories blurred, and the past mingled with the present. Peyton’s father had been a smoker and died of lung cancer when she was just a kid.

  “Did you talk to this man?” Peyton asked.

  Her mother sniffed and pushed away her plate, her vegetables uneaten. “No, but he said he left something for you.”

  Peyton went stone still. “For me? What was it?”

  Her mother toyed with her napkin, folding it one way then another, as she did when she was agitated. “I don’t know, dear, but I was glad when he left,” she muttered. “I told Fred, and he checked around outside, but he said no one was there. Said my eyes were playing tricks on me.” A hint of fear that the security guard was right made her mother’s voice quiver.

  But fear slithered through Peyton. On another day, she might dismiss her mother’s comment as paranoia related to her dementia. But in light of the news report, Inman’s arrest and the fact that the FBI had shown up at her door, she couldn’t ignore it.

  Chapter Four

  Liam’s phone buzzed just as he reached the sheriff’s office in Whistler. Early evening shadows cast a grayness over the town, made drearier by the storm clouds above. Already the days were growing shorter, night setting in and drowning the area in darkness long before Liam was ready to call it a day.

  He punched Connect.

  “It’s Bennett,” his partner at the Bureau said. “I’ve been looking into Peyton Weiss’s financials, but haven’t found anything suspicious. The woman seems squeaky clean. Not even a parking ticket. And no complaints ever filed regarding her work.”

  “Except for her name being mentioned by Barry Inman,” Liam said.

  “Yeah, that’s true. But you got me thinking, so I obtained a list of every staff member who worked at Whistler Hospital around the time of the fire, and also ones who left within six months prior to the fire.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “That’s a serious list,” Bennett said with a chuckle. “It’s going to take some time to go through them.”

  It had already been five damn years. But Bennett was new to the case and they could use a set of fresh eyes.

  Bennett cut straight to business as usual. “So far, I did find one name you should check out. A med tech, Herbert Brantley. Thirty-five, works at River’s Edge Hospital now. But a few months after the Whistler fire, he made some fairly big purchases. A cabin on the lake, an expensive convertible and custom motorcycle.”

  “The man likes to play,” Liam said. “But where did he get that kind of money?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Bennett said. “I’ll let you know when I get some answers.”

  “Any reports of misconduct or problems on the job?” Liam asked.

  “Not that I’ve found. But I’ll dig deeper.”

  “Jacob and I will go have a talk with him. Text me his address.”

  “It’s coming your way.”

  “I have another job for you, too,” Liam said. “Peyton Weiss mentioned the hospital kept a list of drug seekers who strike the ERs. She said security escorted a homeless man from the hospital that night. Hospital records were destroyed in the fire, but if he was a repeat offender, he might have gone to an urgent care or another hospital close by.”

  “On it,” Bennett agreed.

  Liam ended the call, then climbed from his vehicle and walked up to Jacob’s office. Jacob met him at the door. “Did Peyton Weiss reveal anything more on the way home?”

  Liam shook his head. “We just talked about her ailing mother. She’s pretty devoted to her.”

  “She’s hiding something,” Jacob said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

  Liam gritted his teeth. “Me, too. Anything else from Inman?”

  “He insists Peyton is lying, that he knows what he heard.”

  “My partner may have a lead. We need to have a chat with a med tech named Herbert Brantley.”

  Jacob’s brows rose. “Who’s he?”

  “A former employee at the hospital who came into a boatload of money after the fire.”

  * * *

  PEYTON SEARCHED HER MOTHER’S cottage for something the mystery man had left inside but found nothing. Had her mother imagined the incident?

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she waited for her mother to get ready for bed, grateful she could still feed and dress herself. It was so sad when the residents got past that stage. Losing their dignity was the hardest cross to bear.

  A smile glowed on her mother’s pale cheeks as Peyton tucked her in and made sure she had water beside her bed. Her mother brushed Peyton’s cheek with her frail hand. “I treasure every day with you, honey.”

  Tears burned the backs of Peyton’s eyelids, but she blinked them away. “I’m glad we’re together, Mama.” The very reason she had to keep her silence about the past.

  She claimed the rocking chair by her mother’s bed, then read their daily devotional and they said a prayer before her mother fell asleep.

  Peyton enjoyed their nightly rituals almost as much as her mother seemed to. Sometimes she read poems from her mother’s favorite poetry book, inspirational quotes or devotionals. Other times, they reflected on the day and past memories. They ended each night and morning with a simple prayer.

  Her mother enjoyed sharing stories about when Peyton was little, and Peyton was starved for memories about how her mother had grown up on a working cotton farm. Although her grandparents had died when she was small, Peyton had gotten to know them through her mother’s nostalgic tales.

  The days were growing shorter outside with fall, and so was her mother’s memory. Doctors called it sundowner’s syndrome, where elderly people became confused at night because of the lack of light. Some grew agitated and depressed. They lost track of time. Depression and disorientation were serious side effects.

  All the more reason she made it a point to encourage the seniors to sit outside and enjoy the sunlight during the day. She needed the fresh air and sunshine herself.

  Her mother’s comment about the stranger still disturbed her. Dr. Sweetwater, the geriatrician on staff, warned her that dementia could cause hallucinations, especially in the wake of UT infections, a recurring problem with her mother and worse with the patients in the nursing home who were bedridden.

  She pressed a kiss on her mother’s cheek, then covered her with the candlewicked qu
ilt she’d helped her mother make ten years ago before her mother’s hands grew too gnarled and twisted with arthritis to sew. Worry needled her, and she stood and watched her sleep for a few minutes before leaving the room. “I promise I’ll always take care of you, Mama.”

  Satisfied she was resting, she checked the lock on the window in the bedroom, then went into the den and tidied up.

  Before she left for her own apartment, she checked all the window locks along with the French doors.

  Weary and exhausted from the strain of the day, she walked out to her car, but scanned the parking lot and property for anyone lurking around. Something moved in the trees behind the building. Near the rose garden.

  Peyton went still, her heart stuttering. Had her mother been right about a stranger being at Golden Gardens today?

  * * *

  HERBERT BRANTLEY LIVED in the small town of River’s Edge, about thirty miles from Whistler and not far from Golden Gardens.

  “How’s Cora doing?” Liam asked as Jacob drove around the mountain.

  “She’s ready to have this baby and see her toes again,” Jacob said with a chuckle.

  Liam grinned. Ever since Jacob got married, he’d softened, become a family man. But that was okay. His brother deserved to be happy.

  Jacob veered down the winding road for a mile, then turned onto a graveled drive. His SUV bounced over the ruts as he drove, tires grinding gravel. A half mile later, a rustic A-framed cabin slipped into view. Liam spotted the Harley parked beneath a carport beside what he assumed was the convertible which was draped in a car cover.

  Jacob parked, and they surveyed the property as they walked up to the door together. Jacob knocked, and they waited several seconds before the door opened. A short, stocky guy in sweats stood in the doorway with a beer in his hand. His hair was scruffy, a scar ran along his right eyebrow and his nose looked as if it had been broken more than once.

  “Herbert Brantley?” Jacob asked.

  Herbert’s gaze shot back and forth between them, then his eyes narrowed, and he rocked back on his feet. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  Jacob introduced both of them and Liam flashed his credentials. “We’d like to talk to you about the Whistler Hospital fire. May we come in?”

  “Now?” The man hesitated and glanced over his shoulder. Did he have company?

  “Yes, now. It won’t take but a few minutes,” Jacob said. “And it’s important.”

  The man raked his fingers through his hair, then sighed. “All right. Just wait here a minute.” He closed the door, leaving them on the stoop.

  “He’s hiding something.” Jacob laid his hand over his weapon. “Maybe drugs?”

  “Could be.” Liam jiggled the doorknob and opened the door. He stepped inside, braced for trouble, and saw Herbert coming from the bathroom. The sound of the toilet flushing echoed from the hall. “Guess he just got rid of it.”

  Jacob cursed, then Herbert spotted them and halted in the hallway. “I thought you were waiting outside.”

  “We got cold,” Liam said, daring the guy to argue. He gestured toward the living area. “Now, sit down, Herbert.”

  Herbert looked rattled but sank onto a brown leather sofa that looked worn. Two plaid chairs flanked the stone fireplace and a rustic coffee table sat in the center of the seating area. Apparently, he’d spent all his money on vehicles, not furniture.

  “I don’t understand why you’re here now.” Herbert scratched his belly. “That fire happened over five years ago.”

  “But the case was never solved. We’re hoping you can add some insight.”

  Herbert rubbed the condensation on his beer can away with his beefy thumb. “I don’t know how. I told the cops I didn’t see anything suspicious.”

  “Where were you when the fire started?” Jacob asked.

  “Working in the ER,” he said. “The minute the alarm sounded, everyone flew into motion to help patients outside.”

  “You were in the ER with Nurse Weiss?” Liam asked.

  Herbert glanced down at his fingers where he’d started tapping the armchair. “Yeah, although I was in another exam room with a potential stroke victim and Nurse Weiss was working on another case.”

  “Was she in the ER the entire time until the fire started, or did she leave at some point?” Jacob asked.

  “Her patient was coding so she stepped out to get the crash cart.”

  Liam crossed his arms. “Was the cart stored anywhere near the records room?”

  Herbert squinted as if confused. “The equipment is kept in the ER in its own room but readily available to whoever needs it. Necessary medication for emergencies is stored inside. It’s locked and only the nurse has the code to open it.”

  “And that would have been Peyton?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she was the charge nurse.”

  “Did you see anyone suspicious in the ER or perhaps lurking in the hallway or the ER entrance?”

  “Don’t remember anything,” Herbert said. “But like I told you, it was a busy night, and once the fire alarm sounded, it was total chaos. Firemen stormed the building, and the staff and visitors were rushing around trying to evacuate everyone.”

  It was the same story they’d heard from Peyton.

  “I thought you had a suspect in the fire,” Herbert said. “That guy whose wife died. He wanted revenge against the hospital or something.”

  “He is a person of interest,” Jacob answered. “As a matter of fact, we have him in custody at the moment and have been questioning him.”

  Herbert’s eyes widened in confusion, then worry. “He did it, didn’t he?”

  “We’re not certain,” Liam said. “You were on duty that night as well, weren’t you?”

  Liam studied Herbert’s reaction. He looked as if he might run but fidgeted and then said yes. “But I wasn’t in the ER. Peyton was.”

  Back to Peyton.

  “Mr. Inman claims he overheard Nurse Weiss talking to someone about a mistake, but he’s not specific. Do you know anything about that?”

  Herbert gulped. “No. I heard he said that, but I have no idea what he was talking about.”

  He shrugged. “For the record, I liked Nurse Weiss. If she messed up, I’m sure it was an accident.”

  “Do you think she messed up?” Liam asked.

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant she’s a good nurse and all.”

  Liam decided on another angle. “A few weeks after the fire, you seemed to have come into some money.” He gestured around the room. “You bought this house, and a car and motorcycle. Those items aren’t cheap.”

  Herbert’s posture went rigid. “What does that have to do with the fire?”

  Jacob cleared his throat. “Where did you get the money, Herbert?”

  Herbert stood. “That’s none of your business.”

  Liam pinned him with an intimidating look. “It is, if someone paid you to keep quiet about Inman’s wife’s death. Or about who set that fire.”

  Herbert swung his hand toward the door. “You can leave now. I’m done talking.”

  The fact that he clammed up and grew so defensive roused Liam’s suspicions. Had someone paid Herbert to keep him from talking?

  Chapter Five

  Peyton held her breath as she inched around the side of her mother’s cottage and peered into the darkness. Yes, there was a shadow back there.

  Someone was in the garden.

  Fred, the security guard? But at this time of night?

  She held her breath as she hovered by the corner of the building, watching. The shadow moved deeper into the garden and was hunched over, as if he was trying not to be seen.

  Paranoid that her mother had been right about a stranger on the premises, she inched toward the garden, careful to stay at the edge of the tree line so she was shielded from sight. The gard
ener and residents who’d joined the gardening club had covered some of the plants in case of frost, and some of the plants had been trimmed in preparation for the winter.

  A sound broke into the night, echoing from the concrete bench near the climbing roses, and she gripped her phone to call 9-1-1. But as she rounded the curved section of lilies before she reached the roses, a low humming echoed toward her. The song, “Amazing Grace.” The shadow wasn’t a prowler, but one of the patients, Leon Brittles, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s.

  Her heart broke as she watched him kneel in front of the angel statue. It wasn’t the first time he’d come out there. At night, he often forgot where he was. He confused the rose garden with the memorial garden where he’d buried his wife, Hazel.

  Quietly, she put her phone away, let him finish his ritual, then approached him. “Leon,” she said softly. “What a beautiful night to visit your wife.” She put her arm around him. “But it’s getting chilly and it’s time to go in.”

  He looked up at her dazed and confused, then a smile softened his eyes. “She likes it when I sing to her.”

  “I know she does,” Peyton said gently. “But she wants you to be tucked in tonight while it’s cold.”

  “There was the prettiest young girl here before you came,” Leon said. “But she looked so sad. I heard her crying in the garden. That’s why I came out.”

  Peyton inhaled a deep breath. Like her mother, Leon got confused. But he’d never talked about a young girl before. Maybe he was hallucinating about his wife when she was younger.

  “Tell me about this girl,” Peyton coaxed.

  His eyes lit as he bobbed his head up and down. “She had long wavy black hair and was so pretty, but she looked so alone. When I spoke to her, she ran off. I reckon I scared her.”

  “Oh, Leon, you couldn’t scare anyone away. I’m sure she was just tired and ready to call it a night.” She rubbed his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He stumbled slightly and she steadied him, then led him back to his cottage. By the time they reached his place, he was wobbling, and his eyes were closing. She settled him into his room, then locked the door and texted Fred. He agreed to walk by Leon’s cottage during the night and make sure he didn’t wander outside again.