Suspicious Circumstances

by Rita Herron

  Liam murmured a low sound in his throat. “That’s an understatement. It also appears that specific tapes have been tampered with, and that makes me suspect someone at Golden Gardens is responsible. I need a list of your current employees as well as ones who’ve worked here in the past five years.”

  The man’s brows shot up. “Five years?”

  “Yes.” Liam lifted his chin. “You had one death this morning, another woman almost died yesterday, and Nurse Weiss has been threatened and attacked on your property. Her mother is also in the hospital fighting for her life because of a suspicious gas leak. If safety is as important as you claim, you’ll have no qualms about handing over a list. If for no other reason than for me to clear your people of suspicion.”

  The director stood and buttoned his jacket. “You have my full cooperation. I’ll have my assistant start compiling that list and get it to you ASAP.”

  Liam stood and gave a clipped nod. “Thank you.”

  Peyton’s head swam as they left the office. She knew every person who worked at the Gardens. Was friendly with most of them. They’d done team-building exercises together, shared funny and sad stories about their patients and supported each other during personal crises. Devoted to making Golden Gardens a happy, homelike atmosphere, not a grim place where people went to die, the staff planned special activities for the residents, including holiday parties, craft fairs, a gardening club for those interested in maintaining the gardens, and they’d formed a cooking club. On special occasions they even brought in entertainment.

  She couldn’t imagine any one of them trying to hurt her or her mother.

  * * *

  ALTHOUGH PEYTON INSISTED she trusted each and every staff member employed at Golden Gardens, Liam had to keep an open mind.

  Something wasn’t right in this place. He could feel it. And Peyton was at the center.

  How it all tied back to Gloria Inman’s death and the hospital fire, he didn’t know yet. But he wouldn’t give up until he did.

  She directed him to Ms. Marley’s cottage and led him up the sidewalk. “Ms. Marley lives in the midcare section where assistance with daily living is needed, but not necessarily memory care. Some residents respond better to a more social environment and having a roommate. Ms. Marley is one of them. Her unit has two bedrooms with a common living area and a partial kitchen.”

  Peyton knocked, and a twentyish young woman in scrubs answered the door.

  “Hi, Lorrie,” Peyton said. “How’s Ms. Marley doing?”

  “Better now she had some rest. She was pretty shaken up this morning.”

  “Understandably so.” Peyton introduced Liam, then explained to Liam that Lorrie was a nurse’s assistant who often sat with patients in need.

  “We need to talk to her about what happened,” Peyton said softly.

  Lorrie gave a little nod, her blond ponytail swinging as she waved them into the small foyer. “I just fixed her some hot tea,” Lorrie said. “And I encouraged her to eat some toast. She wasn’t hungry this morning.”

  Finding a dead body could kill one’s appetite.

  Knowing the woman would be more comfortable with Peyton than him, Liam gestured for her to take the lead. Watching her give the elderly woman a hug and gently rub her back stirred Liam’s admiration.

  “Ms. Marley, a friend of mine wants to ask you some questions about when you found Leon.”

  Ms. Marley’s hands shook as she set down her china teacup. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, of course not,” Peyton assured her. “It’s just routine. He’s going talk to the other residents, as well. We just want to find out exactly what happened to Leon.”

  “He’s dead, that’s what happened to him,” Ms. Marley said.

  Liam bit back a smile at the woman’s snappy tone. He bet this lady had been a handful in her younger years. Hell, she probably still was.

  Liam seated himself across from her and offered her a smile. “Did you see Leon this morning at any time before you found him in the garden?”

  “No,” Ms. Marley said, then tore her toast into small bites.

  “What about last night?” Liam asked.

  A thoughtful expression colored her face. “We played cards in the evening after dinner. But the old geezer cheated, and I told him so, then left.”

  “Was anyone else playing cards with you?” Liam asked.

  She bit her lip, and Liam knew she was hiding something. “Who else was there?”

  “No one.” She leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “It was a date, just me and Leon, but Gertie Sommers likes Leon and gets jealous, so we were sneaking around.” She rolled her eyes. “This place is a pure gossip mill.”

  Liam coughed to keep from laughing at her comment. “Do you think Gertie knew about you two anyway?”

  “Oh, my word, you don’t think Gertie would kill Leon because he was seeing me, do you?”

  That hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe he should ask if Gertie had an alibi.

  “Do you think that?” Liam asked.

  Ms. Marley pursed her lips. “Heavens no. She’s a mousy busybody, but she plays around, too. Leon isn’t the only man she wants here.”

  He glanced at Peyton and saw amusement in her eyes.

  “I see.” Liam hesitated. “So, tell me what happened this morning.”

  “I got up to go for my morning walk,” Ms. Marley said, then shrugged at the wheelchair. “I mean my stroll. I’m part of the gardening club and wanted to make sure we didn’t need to prune the roses today. Sometimes Leon and I meet our friends for coffee, but he wasn’t on the patio, so I decided to wait for him to have breakfast, so I headed out to the garden. I’d just checked the herbs when I spotted his legs sticking out of the rosebushes.” Her face paled again, and she dabbed at a tear. “I knew it was him the minute I saw his mismatched socks. He was color blind you know.”

  Liam coughed into his hand. “Then what happened?”

  “I started shouting and everyone came running. Well, that is, the staff did. Not many of us here can run anymore.” She chuckled at her own comment. “I so hate that he’s gone. It’s hard to find a good man at my age. Especially one who’s good at cards.”

  Liam smiled again. “Did you see anyone else in the garden this morning? Maybe someone out by the woods or the pond?”

  She shook her head no, then adjusted her tiny wire-rimmed glasses. “Everyone else was gathering on the patio. But then, I don’t see too good these days.”

  Liam laid a business card on the table. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”

  “Maybe Mr. Leon simply died of natural causes,” Peyton said as they left.

  Liam shrugged. “Or maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. Like the person who tried to kill your mother.”

  Peyton’s pained look made him feel like hell. But he couldn’t sugarcoat the facts and protect her at the same time. She obviously trusted everyone who worked here, but he didn’t.

  If someone at the Gardens was a killer, she needed to be on guard every minute.

  * * *

  PEYTON HATED TO BE suspicious of the people she worked with. But if Liam was right, a killer could be hiding among them, and no one was safe.

  They spent the next two hours visiting and questioning each of the residents. Liam was fishing for information on the staff members and subtly inquired about problems or mistreatment.

  The few residents who remembered Miller Conrad gushed that he was a compassionate PA who took extra time to make them comfortable and cared for. Many of the residents had lost loved ones and were alone, leaving them with few to no visitors.

  Liam received a text from his brother requesting they meet at the sheriff’s office, so they drove there after finishing the interviews. Dread filled Peyton when she saw his brother’s face.

  “Come on back.”
Sheriff Maverick led to the same interrogation room where they’d brought her before.

  A man sat at the table, wearing a lab coat, square glasses, his sandy-brown hair combed neatly off his forehead. A file sat in front of him, his hand placed on top.

  The sheriff gestured for her and Liam to sit, and they did. Judging from the sheriff’s body language, he had disturbing news. Liam introduced her to Dr. Hammerhead, the ME.

  “Brantley is in the other room,” the sheriff told Liam. “I was just about to question him, when he arrived.”

  Dr. Hammerhead adjusted his glasses, then opened the file. “I have the results of Mrs. Inman’s autopsy.”

  Sheriff Maverick folded his arms. “It doesn’t look good, Peyton. This report indicates that you gave the woman a lethal dose of morphine.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tension knotted Peyton’s stomach. She’d sensed something wasn’t right in the ER, and then when Dr. Butler had shown her that drug log.

  “I explained that to Liam,” Peyton said. “I did not give Mrs. Inman morphine.”

  Liam’s jaw tightened. “What did you find, Dr. Hammerhead?”

  Dr. Hammerhead cleared his throat. “Cause of death was heart failure due to cardiac arrest.” He gestured to the file. “But the cause of the heart issue is what’s interesting.”

  Liam stiffened. “What caused it?”

  “I’m getting to that.” Dr. Hammerhead rubbed a hand down his face. “The toxicology report indicates that Mrs. Inman had large amounts of opioids in her system.” He glanced at Peyton. “Was the hospital aware of that when she was brought in?”

  Peyton shook her head. “No. The only medications Mr. Inman listed were blood pressure medicine and a statin for high cholesterol.”

  The lines on the ME’s forehead crinkled. “The autopsy indicates she was a long-term user—abuser.”

  Peyton’s mind raced. “But Mr. Inman never mentioned a history of drug use.”

  “Maybe he didn’t know,” Liam suggested.

  Some people hid their addiction from friends and family. Val had at first, until the situation had gotten out of control and had taken over her life.

  “An overdose of opioids could have affected her heart and triggered her to go into arrest,” Peyton said.

  “Exactly.” The ME held up a finger. “But there’s more. According to the tox report, she was given morphine within a half hour before her death. Which would mean she received it in the hospital.”

  Peyton shook her head. “We did not administer morphine or any pain meds when she came in. We were assessing her condition and I gave her a shot of epinephrine.”

  “One shot?” Dr. Hammerhead asked.

  Peyton tensed. “Yes, why do you ask?”

  Dr. Hammerhead removed his glasses. “Because there were two injection sites and double the amount of epinephrine in her system.”

  “That makes no sense,” Peyton muttered. “Unless someone else gave her a shot before I did. But we record every aspect of the treatment so mistakes like that don’t happen in the ER.”

  “Except, according to the log report,” Sheriff Maverick said, “your code was used to check out both morphine and the epinephrine.”

  Peyton went cold inside as she glanced at Liam. She knew exactly how it looked. Just like Dr. Butler had said it would.

  It either appeared she’d made a mistake in the ER, or she had killed Gloria Inman.

  She gripped the chair with clammy hands. “Is this the point where I ask for an attorney?”

  Liam and Jacob exchanged furtive looks. “Do you need one?” Jacob asked.

  Peyton’s lungs strained for air. “I don’t know. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m not naive enough to believe that my word is enough when evidence points to the contrary.”

  It was one reason she hadn’t come forward sooner.

  * * *

  LIAM DIDN’T BELIEVE that Peyton was responsible for any of this. But he also couldn’t discount facts.

  Those facts needed to be backed by motive which Peyton lacked. She certainly seemed competent enough not to inject a patient with the wrong meds or too much medication. And paperwork could be doctored.

  He wished to hell he had autopsies on the three other patients who died where Miller Conrad had worked.

  “Let’s get the autopsy for Leon Brittles,” Liam said. “The tox report should tell us if he had opioids or epinephrine in his system.”

  “You need a list of his regular medications for comparison,” Peyton said.

  “The ME will handle that,” Liam said.

  Although if someone had gone to the trouble to frame Peyton and the same person had killed Leon, and they worked at the Gardens, they could have tampered with his medical records.

  Jacob gestured toward the door. “Let’s go talk to Brantley.”

  “Wait here,” Liam told Peyton. “I’ll drive you to the hospital when I’m finished.”

  Peyton pulled her phone from her purse. “I’ll call and check on Mama.”

  Liam gave a little nod, then followed Jacob from the room, into the hall. They crossed to Interrogation Room 2 and entered.

  Herbert Brantley sat scowling, his hands knotted on top of the table, his shoulders rigid.

  “Why the hell am I here?”

  Jacob dropped a folder on the desk, then sank into the chair across from the man. Liam remained standing, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

  “You worked at Whistler Hospital five years ago,” Jacob began. “You were on duty the night Gloria Inman died.”

  Brantley shifted. “So were a lot of other hospital staff members.”

  “True.” Jacob tapped the file. “But not all of them have a record for selling drugs.”

  The man’s breath wheezed out. “That was a long time ago. I was practically a kid.”

  “Yet now you work in a field where you have access to opioids and narcotics on a daily basis.”

  “I work in a field to help people,” Brantley said. “And for the record, I don’t know what happened to Mrs. Inman. Why don’t you ask that nurse who was in the ER with her? Maybe she screwed up.”

  Liam didn’t like the fact that he was so quick to point suspicion toward Peyton. “You were also on duty the night of the hospital fire.”

  Brantley’s eyes flared with anger. “If you’re suggesting I had something to do with that fire, you’re wrong.”

  Jacob let the silence stand for a minute, and Brantley shifted again, then flexed his fingers.

  “Where were you last night and early this morning?”

  “Home. In bed asleep,” Brantley said flatly.

  “Can anyone verify that?” Jacob asked.

  A seed of panic flared in the man’s eyes. “No, I was alone. Why? Do I need an alibi?”

  “A patient at Golden Gardens died in the night,” Jacob said. “Leon Brittles.”

  “I have no idea who he is, so why would I hurt him?”

  “Money,” Liam suggested. “You never did explain how you bought all those things we asked you about.”

  “And I don’t have to,” Brantley said.

  Liam didn’t like this bastard. He had to keep pushing him.

  “Where were you night before last?”

  Brantley jiggled his leg. “Had the night off so I went to a bar.”

  “I’ll need to know the name of that bar.”

  Brantley worked his mouth from side to side.

  “Let’s talk about the night Gloria Inman died again.” He tapped the tabletop. “Did you know Mrs. Inman had a large number of opioids in her system when she was admitted to the hospital?”

  Brantley folded his arms. “How would I know? I wasn’t in the ER with her.”

  “I have a search warrant for your house and belongings,” Liam interjected. “Am I
going to find opioids there?”

  Brantley went stone still. “I’m done talking. I want a lawyer.”

  “All right.” Liam glared down at him. “But if you started that hospital fire and had anything to do with these other people’s deaths, no lawyer will be able to save you. You’re going to rot in prison for the rest of your life.”

  * * *

  PEYTON ASKED TO speak to the head nurse in charge of her mother’s room, who turned out to be a kind older woman named Letty Hutchins. “Your mother’s condition is the same. Her vitals are good, but she still hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  That worried Peyton the most.

  “Did the doctor run a full blood panel?”

  “Yes, when she first arrived. He’s ordered a CAT scan and an MRI for this afternoon.”

  “Good.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she thought about the oddity with Mrs. Inman’s toxicology report.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Peyton told the nurse. “Please call me if there’s a change.”

  “I will.”

  Just as Peyton ended the call, her phone dinged. Joanna. She pressed Connect. “Hey, Jo.”

  “I just talked to the director.” Worry laced Joanna’s tone. “What’s going on, Peyton? He said that federal agent wants a list of all the employees at the Gardens. He can’t possibly think someone here hurt Leon or your mother.”

  He thought exactly that. “He’s covering all the bases. Something’s going on at the Gardens, Jo. First my mother, then Leon.”

  A heartbeat of silence passed. “Your mama is going to make it,” Jo assured her.

  Tears clogged Peyton’s throat. “I hope so.” She mentally debated how much to share. Jo had been her best friend, ever since she’d moved to Golden Gardens. “Jo, I called Agent Maverick because someone threatened me.”

  “What?”

  She quickly explained about the threat after Mrs. Inman’s death. “That’s the reason I moved Mama to Golden Gardens. I was afraid for her.”