Hideaway Hospital Murders (2 page)

“
Sorry.”

“
She was born in 1939.
People said
cool
back then.”

“
Yeah, meaning
not warm
.”

“
No, really, they
did.”

“
Well, I know jazz
musicians used it that way in the 40s. Not sure about nine year
olds.”

Cynthia slapped Greg lightly on the
shoulder. “Shut up and drive.”

“
Yes, Ma’am.”

It would take less than twenty minutes to
drive to Beverly Sonora’s house in Marshall.

“
Do you really think your
Mom will want to sell her house and move in with you?”

“
I hope so. She’s still
pretty shaken up by the murders.”

“
How long has she lived
there?”

“
I grew up in that house.
She’s been there since the early 70s. But she doesn’t need a big
house anymore.”

“
So, you want her to move
in with you permanently?”

“
Actually, I hope she’ll
consider Coreyville Community House at some point. That would be
great, I think. They have plenty of fun activities for the
residents. And she could make new friends. But I don’t want to
mention it right now. She’s definitely not ready for that. Maybe in
a year or two.”

Marshall is one of those towns that reminds
you of its history everywhere you look. It was founded in
1841—four years before Texas became a state. By 1860, it had become
the fourth largest city in Texas. That was in the day when the
riverboat was the king of transportation. Before the U.S. Corps of
Engineers dropped the water level in Big Cypress Bayou. Before the
railroad came.

The current population of Marshall is about
25,000. The city has two outstanding small colleges: Wiley College,
primarily a black school, affiliated with the United Methodist
Church, and East Texas Baptist University. One of Greg’s church
choir members had attended ETBU.

“
You think your mom will
like me?”

“
Sure. I’ve told her so
many good things about you, she already
does
.”

“
Like what?”

“
Sorry. Mom-daughter
confidentiality.”

“
Well, I just hope she’s
not disappointed.”

“
Quit worrying. Believe
me—she’ll fall in love with you.”

Just like
you
did? Greg
wondered.

Before they even stepped onto the front
porch, Beverly Sonora had walked out the door to greet them.

Greg could see where Cynthia got her red
hair and her good looks.

“
So, you must be Greg. I’ve
heard a lot of wonderful things about you.”

Greg offered to shake her hand, but she
hugged him instead.

“
I’ve been looking forward
to meeting you, Mrs. Sonora.”

“
Oh, please—call me
Beverly. That way I don’t feel quite so old.”

“
Okay, Beverly.”

Cynthia hugged and kissed her mother.

“
Hey, I love your car,
Greg.”

“
Thanks. So do
I.”

“
You want to go for a ride
in it, Mom? Are you getting hungry? We thought we’d take you out
for lunch.”

“
No need. I’ve already
cooked us some lunch. Come on in.”

“
Oh, Mom, you shouldn’t
have gone to the trouble.”

“
No trouble at all,
Dear.”

As they entered the house, Greg was
overwhelmed by the aroma of roast beef with carrots and potatoes,
green-bean casserole and apple cobbler.

Greg turned to Cynthia. “Wow. Suddenly I’m
starving.”

“
Yeah. I forgot to tell you
Mom’s a great cook.”

Beverly had set a beautiful table for the
three of them. And Greg wanted to display his best manners. But
everything was so delicious he could have easily pigged-out. The
conversation saved him from embarrassing himself. Every other bite
had to be postponed briefly to answer a question.

“
So, I understand you teach
music lessons?”

“
Yes, Ma’am. Piano, voice,
guitar, and music theory. And I also direct the music at First
Baptist Church on a part-time basis.”

“
Sounds like you stay
pretty busy.”

“
Sometimes not busy
enough
. I could use
a few more students.”

“
Mom, we’ll have to get
Greg to bring his guitar sometime so he can play and sing for
us.”

“
That would be nice. I love
music.”

“
I’m not sure you would
enjoy
my
music. Most of the songs I play on guitar are from when I was
a teenager. Hits of the 80s.”

“
That’s okay. I like some
of those too,” said Beverly. “Are y’all ready for some apple
cobbler?”

“
I’m ready,” said
Greg.

“
I’ll get the ice cream,”
said Cynthia.

Greg wondered how he would ever lose weight
now. If he ate this way every day for a year he would double in
size.

“
Mom, I wanted to talk to
you about something.”

“
Sounds serious,” said
Beverly.

“
I think you should move in
with me.”

Greg was surprised at how Cynthia got right
to the point.

“
Honey, I’m fine right
here.”

“
No, you’re not. There’s a
killer on the loose.”

“
He won’t come back to our
neighborhood. I’m not worried about it.”

“
Well, I am, Mom.
Besides—you could keep me company.”

“
Looks like you have some
very good company right here.” Beverly smiled and winked at
Greg.

“
Come on, Mom, really. You
don’t need this big house. And it would be fun seeing you every
day. We could have coffee together every morning. Watch some TV at
night. We like a lot of the same shows.”

“
That might get old for
you. And then what if you wanted to get married again?” She glanced
at Greg.

“
Mom!”

“
I don’t know,
Cynthia.”

“
Just think about
it.”

“
I’ll
think
about it.”

“
Mrs. Sonora—I mean,
Beverly, this is fantastic. Everything was delicious. Thank you so
much.”

“
You’re quite
welcome.”

“
See, Mom—you could cook
for me. That would be great. I know you love to cook. And you know
I love to eat.”

“
I said I’ll think about
it.”

**********

The Marshall police were looking for the
killer, but they had no evidence or witnesses. The case would go
cold in a hurry.

Carnie was ready to check out of her
room—not because of any fear of getting caught—just from boredom.
She hadn’t sold the old lady’s jewelry, but had plenty of cash
anyway.

Carnie flipped open her cell phone and
dialed.

“
Hello?”

“
Hey, Sis, how are you
doing?”

“
Fine. What’s going
on?”

“
How about if I come stay
with you guys for a few days before the wedding?”

“
You mean now?”

“
Yeah. If you don’t
mind.”

“
Uh…sure, that’ll be
fine.”

“
Great. It’ll be like old
times.”

“
No, no. I can’t party all
night and get drunk.” Carsie laughed.

“
Okay. Maybe not
exactly
like old
times. But we’ll have fun. See you in thirty minutes.”

“
Thirty minutes? Where are
you?”

But Carnie had already hung up.

It was hard to believe that her sister,
Carsie, had wormed her way into the heart of the wealthy doctor.
Sis had a lot more patience than she did. She would have just slit
his throat and skipped town with his fortune. Surely Carsie hadn’t
actually fallen in love with the nerd. Maybe her biological clock
had started ticking too loud to ignore.

Carsie was about to turn
31, and Carnie was only a year behind her. But unlike her sister,
Carnie didn’t need a man to support her and give her babies.
Anything
she
needed she would get for herself, thank you very
much.

But it would be hysterical to watch Carsie
go through the whole ‘until death do we part’ shtick. Would she
actually have the balls to wear a white dress? If the color of the
dress indicates the purity of the bride, maybe she should go with
midnight black.

The two sisters had been quite a handful for
their grandmother. She had taken them in after their parents died.
Grandma felt so sorry about the girls losing their parents that she
let them get away with murder—literally.

Carsie had cried herself to sleep one night
after discovering that her boyfriend was cheating on her. The next
morning the boy’s father found him dead on the sidewalk in front of
his house. He had been stabbed in the chest and his genitals had
been amputated.

The doctor would treat Carsie right, or
little sis would make him sorry. She wouldn’t necessarily have to
kill him. She could just cut something off. Something not vital.
Maybe an ear or two. She knew she shouldn’t think about it doing
those kinds of things though. The more she thought about it, the
more she’d want to do it. And eventually she would not be able to
restrain herself.

But Carsie shouldn’t even marry the guy if
he’s unworthy, she thought. Would be a bachelor party for the fine
doctor? If so, she should be there to observe his behavior. Maybe
she could pay off the jump-out-of-the-cake girl, and do it herself.
She could pull it off with a good disguise. If the Doc got fresh
with her she could just take care of him right there. One quick
twist of the head, lay him down like he’s passed out from the
booze, and walk away.

Yes, she would protect her sister. And have
fun doing it.

Chapter
3

Carnie was on her way to
Carsie’s new home at the Mobley estate. Of course, it wouldn’t
become her sister’s permanent residence until after she married Dr.
Mobley. But the wedding was only a week away. Carnie knew very
little about the doctor. But she knew all she
needed
to know—he was
rich.

She drove into Coreyville on FM-2208 and
then went south on Highway 450. The Mobley property was three miles
outside of town. The Georgian style home sat in the center of a
1,200-acre plot that was inhabited mostly by pine trees.

There was a security gate near the front end
of the long, winding driveway that led to the house. The gate was
hidden by a couple of strategically placed hairpin turns. It was
almost impossible to make the 120-degree turn onto the driveway
from the north.

Carnie was five miles out of Coreyville when
she realized she must have missed the entrance. She made a U-turn
and headed back north. This time it was easy to spot the driveway.
However, it seemed to dead-end into the tall trees. But she turned
onto it anyway. When she reached the end of the road, she saw that
it was not really the end. The road actually turned sharp to the
left. Then sharp to the right. The gate was closed, but she saw the
intercom on the left side of the road.

Fancy, she thought.

She drove up close and pushed the button.
After about thirty seconds, she heard a man’s voice.

“
May I help
you?”

“
Yes. I’m here to visit
Carsie Slitherstone.”

“
And may I please have your
name, Ma’am?”

“
Yes. My name is
Carnie
Slitherstone.
I am Carsie’s sister.”

“
Thank you, Ma’am. I will
connect you.”

Very
fancy. After a few seconds,
she heard her sister’s voice.

“
Carnie?”

“
Yeah. I’m
here.”

“
Okay. I’ll open the gate
for you. And I’ll be waiting out in front of the house.”

“
See you in a
minute.”

The half-mile drive from the gate to the
house had many curves, hills and valleys. Carnie could only imagine
that whoever put in the driveway had taken the path of least
resistance through the trees. Finally the road straightened out,
and she could see the house. The ground sloped upward as she
approached her sister, who was standing out front.

It was a two-story house, with a walk-out
basement. It had been built by the doctor’s grandfather, Milstead
Mobley, in 1923 and had been renovated in 1976. With its huge
pillars, it reminded Carnie of a courthouse.

“
Sure didn’t take you long
to get here. Where were you?”

“
Oh, just down the road a
ways.”

“
Why is everything always a
secret with you?”

“
It’s just the way I am,
Sis. What difference does it make—I’m here. Now let’s have some
fun.”

Carsie got into her sister’s car and
directed her to the left side of the house. They drove past the
three-car garage, and then took another left, around to a little
parking lot concealed behind the trees. The two walked across the
parking lot and along the walkway between the trees to the house.
Carsie led her sister across the terrace and into the recreation
room. There was a billiard table in the center of the room.