A Secondhand Murder (12 page)

Madeleine entered, her arms filled with clothes. She took one look at me, then shifted her gaze to Alex and tossed the clothes over a rack.

“
Eve, what did he do to you?”

I shook my head to indicate Alex wasn't at fault. Madeleine stopped midstride. She turned toward the door and looked at the push bar.

“
What happened to the bell?” The bell, which had been tied on a ribbon so that it would jangle when the door was opened, lay on the floor. It was crushed flat, as if someone, furious with its tinkling sound, had stomped on it.

T
he three of us sat in the emergency room. It was mid-afternoon and only two other folks were waiting to be seen. One was a small boy with what looked like the kind of head injury that young boys tend to get when they fall out of trees, attempt a wheelie or try out in-line skates without a helmet. My injury would have to wait—he had the more serious bleed.

The other prospective patient, the guy hacking up a lung on the far side of the room, looked as if he'd never make it to the examining room. My guess was that he'd be taken first, but I was wrong. As it turned out, he wasn't even the one waiting to see the doctor. The woman with him, who looked just fine to me, was the prospective patient. I guessed the guy was just a heavy smoker. The boy went first.

“
Uh, Madeleine,” said Alex, “could I have a few moments with Eve alone. There's something I've got to tell her in private.”

Madeleine did her best not to look surprised. She nodded, claimed a need for the ladies' room and strolled down the hallway, only stopping to inquire for directions at the sign-in counter.

I watched her leave. “I'm not so certain she should go off alone,” I said. “This is a hospital, and there's no telling what trouble she might get herself into.”

“
She's a big girl,” said Alex.

“
No, she's not. She's tiny, but powerful like a bulldozer.”

“
Eve.” He took my uninjured hand in his. I remembered the two of us having this handholding encounter once before, that morning when I had figured out that he was using me for information. I tried to jerk my fingers away. He held on tighter.

“
I'll call security if you don't let go,” I whispered between clenched teeth. “I'll make a scene.”

He dropped my hand, and I immediately regretted my words. His touch was so,
so
sensuous, as his hands caressed my fingertips and moved down onto my palms. I was willing to bet he gave a great foot rub, too.

“
Okay, fine, but I really am worried about you.”

I made as if to get up out of my chair, but he held up one finger, asking me to wait a minute before I turned away.

“
Let me get to it. I know why you and Valerie fought. Mr. Sanders told me. I think he's going to tell Frida. If you haven't leveled with her yet, you might want to tell her the truth.”

“
You believe Sanders' story? Why would you take his word? Looks to me like he's simply trying to pin his wife's murder on somebody.”

“
Jerry confirmed the story.”

I jumped out of the chair and stood as firmly on my teetering stilettos as a wounded girl could. “You told Jerry about what Sanders said?
Jerry?”

“
No, Jerry told me about the feud on his own.”

I sat abruptly, but at that moment the nurse called my name. I had to pop out of the chair again.

“
Stay here. I'll be right back.”

“
I could come in with you.”

I considered his offer, along with the possibility that they might want me to change into one of those white hospital gowns. If Alex was going to see me naked, I wanted it to be on my terms, preferably in a bedroom of my choosing and in one of my sexy nightgowns.

I shook my head and followed the nurse. Before I stepped into the examining room, I turned and waggled my finger at him. “Stay put.”

I liked to believe I wasn't a big baby, but when it came to pain, I was a wimp.

“
I don't really need stitches, do I?” I asked the doctor after he examined my thumb.

“
You do. Otherwise the cut won't heal properly. It'll keep opening up. Chance of infection is greater.” I watched as he reached for a syringe.

“
I don't want to look.” I didn't. The shot hurt like hell, but my hand quickly went numb. After the stitching, I asked the nurse for a lollipop. I thought I deserved something for undergoing the procedure.

“
No, no. Too much sugar.” She swept her hand toward an array of small action figures lined up on a shelf. “You can choose one.”

I carried the Minnie Mouse figure in my unbandaged hand and looked for Alex in the waiting room. He was gone.
Damn
. I hadn't taken him for the type to flee the impending wrath of a tall, blonde woman. I twirled Minnie in my fingers. “He certainly wouldn't deserve you,” I told her.

Madeleine had to be around here someplace. She'd take me home.

Down the hall from the waiting room came a woman's scream, the sound of metal falling onto the tile floor and the crash of a large object against the wall. That had to be my ride.

A wheelchair came flying through the swinging doors at the end of the hallway, pushed by an elderly man dressed in a tropical shirt and plaid Bermuda shorts. In the chair sat a woman, probably his wife. There was familiar terror written all over her face. She kept turning her head to peer down the hall from which she had come. “Faster, Harold. The mad woman's gaining on us.”

I expected to see Madeleine bolt through the door. I wasn't disappointed.

“
I'm so sorry,” she shouted to the couple. “I'm just clumsy, you see.”

Madeleine had somehow wrapped herself in the tubing of a portable intravenous apparatus and was attempting to disentangle herself while pulling and pushing the mess toward the retreating couple. A few steps behind Madeleine came Alex, who grabbed her by the arm, held her still, and removed the tubing. By now the couple had alerted the security guard, and he was approaching Madeleine.

“
That's her,” said the old woman. “My husband was wheeling me down the hall for a spin when this crazy woman, arms flapping like a windmill, grabbed my tubing and pole and ran off with it.”

“
That's not true. I saw you remove the drip lines and abandon the apparatus in the hallway, but when I tried to return everything to you, you pushed me into that cart of bedpans. I got twisted up in the tubing. Don't you know your medication is in that bag?” Madeleine was working herself into a frenzy. Who could blame her? Apparently she had been trying to help this lying old woman.

“
You ripped the needle out of my arm. I could have bled to death.”

The man nodded, supporting his wife's statement.

The security guard turned his head back and forth from the couple to Madeleine with a look that said he wished he had the midnight shift when only druggies and gunshot victims came in.

“
Madeline is telling the truth.” It was Alex's voice, issuing from behind me. “She was trying to return the apparatus.” Madeleine beamed with gratitude. The couple shook their heads. “Look at her arm,” Alex continued. “The needle hasn't been torn out at all.”

The doors to the hallway swung open once again and a man in surgical scrubs walked through. “There you are, Mr. and Mrs. Flynn. You're not trying to take a hike again, are you?”

The couple's mouths opened. No sound came out.

“
They like to run down to the Twisty Cone for ice cream. Mr. Flynn, I told you she shouldn't be off her drip.”

“
It was her idea.” Flynn pointed to his wife. “She made me do it.”

“
Well, now, let's get her back into her room, and we'll see what we can do.” The doctor put his arm around Mr. Flynn's shoulders.

The old woman's eyes shot daggers at her husband and Madeleine. “We would have made our escape from this place,” she said. “I'd be having a chocolate and peanut butter soft-serve twist right now, if you hadn't interfered.” She wheeled her chair past Madeleine. “Next time, mind your own business. Who do you think you are? A doctor or something?”

I could hear Mrs. Twisty Cone berating her husband and Madeleine as they accompanied the doc through the swinging doors and down the hallway.

“
It really wasn't my fault this time,” Madeline said.

“
I know, honey, but you do manage to find trouble, don't you?” I put my arm around my friend and hugged her.

“
Let's go home,” said Alex.

“
No. First I need to talk to Frida. Then I want to talk to you.” I poked my finger into his chest. “No more lies.”

“
I haven't lied to you.”

“
Okay, then, no more prevarications.” I should have been more direct and told him to just tell the truth.

“
I don't think I know what that means.”

“
Yes you do. Don't play dumb. We need to talk more about what you've been telling me.” Or haven't been telling me.

Alex and I walked out into the hospital parking lot and headed toward his car.

“
Hey, what about me? Can I come along, too?” Madeleine called from behind us.

Alex looked at me for approval. I nodded.

“
Sure, but could you stay a block or so behind us? I've seen what you can do when you get too close.” Was Alex really worried or just teasing Madeleine? Maybe he was prevaricating again.

“
You're right, of course.” Alex steered the car through the evening traffic and into my subdivision. Madeleine was right behind us.

I was about to ask him what he meant, when I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.

“
Hey, I want to talk to Frida.” I reached for the steering wheel, but Alex shoved his muscular shoulder toward me, blocking my hand.

“
You just had stitches, and the anesthetic will wear off soon. The best place for you to be is at home, lying down.”

That sounded lovely.

“
We'll call Frida from your place. After I get you settled in bed.”

Even lovelier
.

“
What about Madeleine?”

“
She can make you a cup of tea while I get Frida on the line.”

We pulled up in front of my house and Madeleine jumped out of her car to help me through the door.

At that moment, as if on some predetermined medical schedule, the anesthetic wore off and my next sentence, which I intended to be “I'd prefer scotch to tea,” came out something like, “Fraggle postle mag.”

“
You're white as a magnolia blossom,” said Madeleine.

That might've sounded like a compliment, but I was a sun worshiper from the Northeast. I should have been as golden as a ripe papaya. Alex pulled me out of his car, took me in his arms, and carried me into the house.

He deposited me on the couch.

“
Scotch.” I pointed across the room at my liquor cabinet. He ignored me.

Keeping his promise, Alex dialed Frida. Madeleine busied herself in my kitchen.

“
Get out of my kitchen,” I yelled. Too late. The sound of breaking dishes, followed by the ringing of my pots and pans hitting the floor, assaulted my ears. Silence followed. “Everything all right?”

“
Fine. How would you feel about iced tea instead?”

“
Okay, I guess.”

I had no intention of drinking any kind of tea. I pulled myself up off the couch and walked with grim determination and wobbly legs over to my liquor cabinet.

“
Not so fast.” Alex grabbed the bottle out of my hand. Caught. “Nope. Frida will be right over. I explained your little accident to her.”

“
My little accident?” Madeleine said. “You told Frida about the hospital incident?” She handed me a glass of the weakest tea I'd ever seen.

“
No,” I said, “he told her about my hand.” I waggled the bandaged thumb in the air to remind her.

“
Oh, good. I'd hate for her to think that I had molested an old man and his wheelchair-bound wife.”

“
Alex wouldn't say that.”

Madeleine looked relieved for a moment. Then her face scrunched up with concern. “I could only find one tea bag, and I used tap water. It comes out faster. You're giving her booze?” Madeleine looked at Alex with accusatory eyes.

“
No. Tea should be enough. She's had quite a day.”

“
I can relate,” Madeline said. “First those geriatric terrorists in the hospital and then I get here and can't reach the tea cups in the cupboard because stilts here has them on the top shelf.” She paused and turned in my direction but didn't raise her eyes to meet mine. “Listen, hon, I think you could use some cups or mugs if you want coffee in the morning.”

That was odd. I had plenty of cups and mugs.

Madeleine threw herself onto the end of the couch, grabbed the glass of tepid tea and took a sip. Then she looked me in the eye with one of those defiant I-dare-you-to-say-anything looks on her face.