2 Any Meat In That Soup? (6 page)

Jen seemed really shaken up, so I tried to comfort her. “Honey, I know you had nothing to do with the wings being poisoned. You are not a suspect in my book.”

“It hurts so much to know someone died because of my food.”

I continued to try to reassure her, “It wasn’t because of your food. It was because of the arsenic on your food. Big difference.”

It was unusual to see Jen as anything but calm, confident, and kind. I changed the subject for a moment to see if that would snap her out of it. “Why is Carter here all the time? I’d think if someone was fired, the hospital wouldn’t want him hanging around.”

She moved her head from side to side as if to clear it. “Um, the hospital doesn’t know he’s here. He comes in by the ambulance entrance and leaves the same way. He stays in the break room, so no one but ER staff sees him. He doesn’t bother anything. Why?”

“Dunno really. I talked to him earlier and he bet me that poison was how these people died. I thought it was strange. And speaking of strange, that word describes him too. He gives me the creeps.”

“Shup,” Jen said, using our childhood shorthand for “shut up.” Her lip quivered as she continued, “Carter’s one of us. He’s been with us in the trenches and he’s damn good at his job.”

“Why did he get fired then?”

“I hate to even tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re such a know-it-all that you’ll have it in your head that Carter poisoned people.”

“Just tell me.” I almost begged at this point.

“He got fired because there were some irregularities with his EMT certification. And really he’s not fired; he’s laid off until things get straightened out.”

“Hmmm.”

“Quit interrogating me.” Jen had raised her voice and I was surprised at her sudden anger. “Carter’s got nothing to do with this. You have your vibes—well, my gut tells me he’s just weird. Not criminal. Not crazy. Just weird.”

The vehemence of Jen’s response let me know it was indeed time for me to “shup.”

While she went back to work I decided to check work schedules against ER deaths and see if anything jumped out at me. I took old schedules and a list of the deaths I got from the secretary. In less than a week there had been six unexplained deaths, counting Pluto, though he didn’t actually die in the ER but in ICU a few minutes after being admitted.

When I looked at the time of death versus who was on duty, I didn’t like it one little bit. The first person who was on duty every single time was my sister Jenny. It was impossible for me to think of her as a suspect, but I knew the cops would think so—except for Rob and maybe George. There were two other people on duty for each death, Loretta and Dougie. Since Dr. Dougie Johnson was Loretta’s son, Jenny put them on the schedule together whenever she could. That was three people, but I thought Carter needed to be on the list too. No one could track his exact comings and goings because of how he snuck in, but because of his weirdness and the uneasy feeling I got around him, I thought he definitely belonged on the list, maybe even at the top of it.

A slight noise disturbed my meditation. I looked up to see Carter Callahan in his usual place in the corner. This was a sign that it was time for some in depth sleuthing.

“Hey, Carter, I want to talk and I want you to talk too. A conversation. What do you think?”

He nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Uh, okay.”

Now was the time for me to get to work. “I got the results of Pluto’s autopsy. You were right. He was poisoned. We’re not 100% sure it was murder. It could have been an accident, but I’m thinking foul play.”

He sat up straight and again almost smiled. “Told you.”

“Yeah, but how did you know?”

“Dunno. Just knew.”

I decided to go for it. “Did you do it? Did you poison him?”

He didn’t react as I thought he might. Instead he said, “What a silly question.”

“It’s not silly. You’re the one who said the deaths were all poison and that they were murder. The only one.”

“That just makes me smart, not criminal.”

“You were at the party where Pluto keeled over after eating wings.”

“So were you.”

He had me there. “So if you aren’t the murderer, who is? Any ideas?”

Carter licked his lips before answering. “The answer is clear if you know where to look.”

“What does that mean? Do you have any idea who might have killed Pluto and the others?”

“I have ideas, but I’m not talking about them.” With that he slumped back into the corner like the ghost he resembled.

Since it was like he wasn’t there, I decided to do some thinking. I pulled out some paper and wrote down the list of folks who worked when all the patients died unexpectedly. Then I started writing why they might or might not be guilty and even how they could have pulled off the crimes.

CARTER: May or may not have been present for all the deaths. However, he was someone who had access to the ER and definitely was present for Pluto’s death. Plus he was weird, just plain weird, and set my vibes going. Also he said the deaths were from poison.

JENNY: Was present for all the patient deaths, but there was no way she could have done it. She’s my sister for heaven’s sake.

DOUGIE: Dr. Johnson was present for all the deaths and actually worked on most of the patients. I hadn’t met him yet, but hoped to soon. The problem was that everyone in the ER was always so darn busy when they worked.

LORETTA: Was at work for all the deaths, but no evidence to show she actually took care of all six people. She seemed overly proud when her son saved people.

So far, there were four suspects, counting Jenny who was definitely not the murderer. Four suspects that I knew of, but there were probably more who had access to the patients but didn’t work in the ER, such as visitors, chaplains, X-ray techs, people drawing blood, etc. The list could be overwhelming. Maybe I should get that list from Human Resources and see who was working in an ancillary department when all six people died.

Suddenly I got an “aha.” What if some other people were poisoned too, but they didn’t die. I’d have to check on whether it was possible to ingest arsenic and just get sick but not die.

My sister, Jill, wasn’t on the list because she wasn’t on duty for all the deaths. As an ER resident she had an odd schedule. And she also wasn’t on my suspect list because she was my sister. I wished I could do the same for Jen.

It hit me that it would have to have been a fast-acting poison if an employee administered it and the person died right away. Or would there be a way to do it surreptitiously, like put it on chicken wings, the way Pluto was poisoned.

My thoughts were interrupted by Jen poking her head into the room, “Want to go to dinner? Dougie and I are heading to the cafeteria.”

Never having been one to say no to food, I jumped up and joined her. Also I’d never met the popular Dr. Johnson, and having a meal with him would let me get to know him without being viewed as an interrogator.

“Oh, shit!” The word escaped me before I could stop it.

Jen looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot Clancy. I didn’t go home in between the Clinic and here, and she’s probably standing by the door with all four of her legs crossed. Go ahead. I’ll call Gus and then will catch up with you.”

She nodded and exited. I had Gus on speed dial, so it wasn’t long before I heard, “Hello.”

Without bothering to be polite I made my quick confession. “I don’t have much time to talk, but I did the unthinkable. I forgot about Clancy.” I could hear Gus’s gasp through the phone. “Would you please let her out? I left the door unlocked.” Another gasp.

“Sam, I warned you about that. I fixed the locks so no one could break in and then you don’t even use them? And yes, I’ll take care of Clancy. No worries there.”

He hung up before I could apologize for not using his handy-dandy locks. At least I could calm down about my sweet dog. Sweet, hell. She’d make me pay for this. And I’d do my best to make it up to her when I got home.

I hurried to the cafeteria, ran through the line, and joined Jenny and Dougie at their table. It felt funny calling Dr. Johnson by his nickname, but that was the only thing I’d ever heard him called.

You could tell he was Loretta’s son. He could be described as petite too, like his mom, and had the same round face. Also he was incredibly handsome. Since he was sitting I couldn’t tell his height but knew he was about 5’4”, a few inches taller than his mom.

After Jen introduced us again, I began what I considered a very professional, yet undetectable, interview.

After a moment of pleasantries, I began, “Wow, you’ve been here for every one of the odd deaths.”

He looked at me as if I’d committed a huge faux pas. “Yes, so have other people.”

Jen intervened. After all, Dougie was one of her people. “He also saved a lot of other people who had similar symptoms.”

Aha. New information. “Really. I didn’t realize that.” Note to self again: don’t forget to check on how arsenic works, medical treatments that counteract it, and whether or not there were antidotes.

I continued, “So I guess you’re kind of a hero.”

“You betcha,” said Jen.

Dougie didn’t say anything, but he smiled, making him even more handsome. “I sure don’t consider myself a hero, but…” He stopped abruptly, almost as if he really did consider himself a hero. Seemed odd.

Meal times were only thirty minutes when you work in a hospital, so our discussion was short. Toward the end it hit me that I hadn’t reported to Michael what I’d learned. And even worse, he hadn’t checked on me.

Before I could excuse myself to call Michael, my stomach started talking to me. Me with the cast-iron stomach. And with each second it got worse. “Jen, I gotta go.”

“You okay?” She was solicitous, both as a sister and a nurse.

“Nope. My stomach. Gotta go.” I escaped more quickly than my middle-aged body should have been able to. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Loretta going through the line, but didn’t have the time to say anything to her. I didn’t want to hurl in the cafeteria. And I almost made it. Almost.

EIGHT

Y
ou’d think that hurling in front of a bunch of medical personnel would result in me getting a lot of attention. You’d think. But you’d be wrong. I was around the corner from Jen, so she didn’t notice and didn’t come to my aid.

I mean, what do you do when this happens and then it’s finished? Do you walk away? Do you get material to clean it up? I knew I couldn’t do the latter because that was the reason I was in mental health instead of health. And my innate sense of ethics wouldn’t let me walk away. So I just stood there, feeling like being sick again, until someone came up and told me they called Housekeeping, and I could leave. Thank God.

I made it home in record time, raced into my house, and barely noticed that Clancy wasn’t there. I heard a knock on my door but couldn’t attend to it until I took care of more urgent matters.

Finally I walked into my living room and saw Gus there.

“When you didn’t answer I got worried so I walked in. I heard what was going on in the other room, so thought I’d wait and make sure you were okay.”

I nodded and thanked him, but didn’t have the energy for much more. I collapsed on the couch and Gus threw Grandma’s quilt on me. I always feel better when I’m covered by Grandma’s quilt.

“Clancy?” I could barely get the word out.

“Georgianne’s got her and they are practically making out on the sofa in the parlor.”

I chuckled, remembering Georgianne’s aversion to Clancy until she’d spent some time with her. Then it became a mutual admiration society. “I really feel like shit. Can Clancy spend the night with you guys? Normally I’d want her with me when I was sick, but I don’t think I have the energy to let her outside or to even talk.”

“Sure,” Gus said. “Georgianne will love it.” He said it without sarcasm, and I believed him.

After getting some dog food for Clancy’s dinner, Gus made sure to lock the door behind him, and that was the last thing I remembered until I woke up the next morning.

I had the day off and slept in until 8 AM, late for me. A good night’s sleep was restorative, and so was losing all the food in my stomach. I noted that I probably would bring my own food to the hospital in the future. However, I did remember that Jenny had told me the flu was going around. Guess I couldn’t really blame hospital food after all.

Since I was off and since I felt good, I decided to do some sleuthing on my own. I know I was only supposed to work at the hospital and funnel information to Michael, but following suspects seemed like a logical extension of my assignment.

Before leaving my house I did two things. I got Clancy and gave her an abbreviated walk—apologizing all the time—and I called Michael. “Sam Darling, private eye, reporting in.”

“Not funny,” Michael said. “Don’t make me sorry I asked for your help. You are not a PI. You’re a social worker.”

Just like my brothers and George. I’m not a cop. I’m not a private investigator. Whatever. So I guess I wouldn’t tell Michael about my plan to follow suspects when I could.

I told him about doing the check on who was on duty when the patients died.

“Now that’s exactly the kind of thing I hoped to get from you. Good job.”

He knew the way to my heart—positive reinforcement. I was ready for more. “There are four people who were always on duty,” and I listed them for him. “But Jenny…”

“I know,” he interrupted, “Jenny couldn’t be guilty.”

“Okay, as long as you know that.”

“What I know, Sam, is that I can’t be blinded by who is related to you, who you like or don’t like. I have to go on the evidence.”

I choked back a nasty retort because I still had a crush on him. Even though George and I kissed, and even though it was really nice, I still had a crush on Michael. I put aside those thoughts and said, “And the evidence will show that Jenny is innocent.”

“Of course it will.” Did he really believe that or was he just trying to appease me?

“Okay, that’s all I know for now. I’ll keep in touch.”

He didn’t try to keep me on the phone, which hurt my feelings, and then I mentally yelled at myself for acting like a lovesick teenager. Back to sleuthing.