Malpractice in Maggody (31 page)

Deputy Whatever was seated by the pool, smoking a cigarette. He ground it out and stood up as I approached with my precious bundle. “Nuthin’ to report, Chief Hanks. I mean, nuthin’ strange. The gal and the fellow came outside and went in where you are, then came back. They was snapping at each other like mongrels.”

“Thank you for the detailed report,” I said soberly. “This is a piece of evidence. I want you to treat it with tenderness and respect. Do not unwrap it under any circumstances. Take it to the sheriff’s office and see that it’s labeled properly and handed to whoever can dust it for fingerprints. Sheriff Dorfer is expecting you.”

“I’m ’sposed to stay here, ma’am.”

“Are you married, Deputy?”

“Yeah, me and my wife just celebrated our first anniversary last week.”

“Does she admire your prowess in bed?”

He shuffled his feet. “That’s kinda personal, ain’t it?”

I held out the towel-wrapped bottle. “If you would like to continue to please her, do as I say. Otherwise, I’ll haul you into a little surgery room right over there and find a scalpel. You’ll end up singing soprano in the church choir. Any questions?”

He took the bundle and headed for his car. I waited until I heard him drive away at a good clip, then went to the day room. Dawn was curled on one of the leather sofas. A muted movie played on the TV screen, but she did not appear to find it compelling.

“How’s Dibbins doing?” she asked without looking at me.

“It’s hard to say. Medicine’s not my field.” I sat down on one of the chairs next to the conference table.

“I didn’t mean what I said. When I get scared, I say horrid things without thinking. I don’t like him, but I don’t hope he dies or anything. Is Dr. Stonebridge in there with him?”

I considered being tactful, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. “No, he’s drunk, passed out in his apartment. He’s been trying all afternoon to find a replacement for Dr. Zumi. I guess he hasn’t had much luck.”

“Why would anybody want to come to this nasty, backward state? Bunch of rednecks and sluts, all using outhouses and wiping their asses with pages from a catalog.” She glanced up. “Not you, of course. You’re probably from a nice, ordinary family.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “What about your family? You’re from Arkansas.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but only until I was three years old. It’s not like I grew up here and went to a one-room schoolhouse. My sister and I had a private tutor. Our first house was small, but once the money started rolling in, my mother bought a mansion up on the hill overlooking Rodeo Drive. We had a chauffeur, a real chef, maids, and a hairstylist who came to the house every week to trim our hair.”

“It must have been hard on you when the sitcom was canceled.”

“Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “There was some talk of a spin-off, but then my sister got sick. Every time I see a picture of those smarmy Olsen twins, I want to barf. Sunny and I were so much prettier. Sunny was smarter than me; she could have gone to college at some fancy East Coast school and gotten a diploma and all that shit.”

“But she died,” I said.

Dawn looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it. This place is way spooky, like in one of those teen slasher movies. Jason and Freddie are probably hiding in the garden. First Molly got strangled, and then Dr. Zumi committed suicide, and now Dibbins is dying. What if he has a deadly virus? I just want to get out of here. Can you call my lawyer and talk to him? Tell him he has to make the judge let me go someplace else for rehab. I swear I’ll stay there.”

“Dr. Dibbins most likely had a heart attack. The paramedics ought to be here any minute. And Freddie and Jason aren’t responsible for Molly’s death.”

“Was Dr. Zumi?” she asked, perking up. “Is that why he killed himself? Unrequited love and all that crap? Maybe he was out in the garden when she went outside after Toby tried to rape her. She cried on his shoulder and told him what happened. Instead of being mad at Toby, he got all furious because she went to Toby’s suite in the first place. He strangled her, and then got so guilty that he killed himself, too.”

“It occurred to me.”

“Ooh, maybe I could write a book about it. Not me, but my agent could get a ghostwriter and I’ll put my name on it. I could get back on some of the talk shows, maybe even in New York. I’ll have to admit I was in rehab, but that would be okay. I mean, everybody in Hollywood does drugs. It’s no big deal these days. I’m old enough now that my mother can’t get her hands on the money.”

“You might want to put this project on hold until after you go to court,” I said drily.

“Well, you’ll have to prove my theory’s right. How long will that take?”

“I can’t promise I’ll wrap it up before the next commercial, but I’m doing my best.” I gave her a few minutes to enjoy the vision of her reclamation of fame and fortune, then said, “When you told me what happened in the hall Thursday night, you didn’t mention Alexandra Swayze. She came out of her suite, didn’t she?”

“She’s like one of those pop-up gophers in that arcade game. You take a stuffed mallet and try to bonk them, but they’re fast. Yeah, she came out and wanted to know what was going on, like it was any of her business. She has a real thing about how my generation is nothing but sex fiends and drug addicts. She wants the government to outlaw condoms and the pill unless you’re married, but then she wants unwed parents to be locked up in prison. Anyway, I told her to butt out and went into my room, just to get away from her. I’m glad she’s gone, and I hope she never comes back.”

“You don’t know what she did after that?”

“Like I cared.” Dawn caught a lock of hair and began to chew on it. “So are you gonna call my lawyer? I’m kind of low on cash, but I can write you a check.”

I pushed back the chair and stood up. “Maybe tomorrow. You need to stay in your suite tonight.”

“I can’t lock the door.”

“Then put a piece of furniture against it if it will make you feel safer. Just don’t go for a stroll in the garden, okay?”

She nodded. I went back to the reception room to find out if the ambulance had arrived. The driveway was empty. Although I’d been careful with the directions, there were a lot of unmarked county roads, and it was possible the paramedics were lost. I called 911 and asked the dispatcher about the delay. She was testy because I’d failed to follow her instructions to stay on the line, although I wasn’t sure what we would have talked about all this time. She put me on hold, then returned and told me they had taken a wrong turn but were back on route. I asked her to let them know to anticipate barbiturate poisoning. Naturally, she wanted details, but I had none, so I replaced the receiver, nodded at the orderly, and went to Dibbins’s suite.

Brenda hadn’t moved, and by now, looked incapable of it. I checked on the patient, who was still hanging on. He was three times the body weight of Randall, so whatever dosage he’d ingested might not be enough to kill him. Inadvertently ingested, I amended. Dibbins’s wine bottle had been spiked, and I was convinced that Randall’s gin bottle had received similar treatment.

I heard an approaching siren, and within seconds blue lights were flashing on the ceiling. I went to the main door and held it open for the paramedics. “Did you get the message about the barbiturate poisoning?” I asked as I led them to the suite.

“Yes, about two minutes ago,” one of them said. “I called the doctor on duty at the ER, and he prescribed a stimulant. Hope you’re right, lady.” He stepped inside and froze. “Holy shit, look at the size of the guy! Is he even gonna fit on the gurney?”

“I can get a couple of men to help you move him,” I said.

“They got a back hoe?” He barked orders at his partner, then opened his bag. “I don’t know how much to give him.” He took out a cell phone and punched numbers.

“Vitals are critical,” his partner said, then looked at me. “How long ago did he take the drug?”

I tried to calculate the amount of time since I’d ended our unpleasant conversation. “I don’t know. He was fine three hours ago. We found him like this almost an hour ago, so sometime in that two-hour period.”

Brenda began to sob loudly. “I should have checked on him, but I was so upset, and I just couldn’t stand the idea of listening to his beastly remarks.”

The paramedic finished his call and filled a hypodermic to the hilt. “Get the gurney, Bernie. Lady, we’re gonna need all the help you can round up. One of you is gonna have to ride back with us so the doctor on duty can get more information. This guy got insurance?”

“I’ll fetch his records for you.” I went to the reception desk and pointed at the orderly. “You, go there,” I said, gesturing in the direction of Dibbins’s suite. “Who else is here?” He stared blankly at me. “Just go, then.” I grabbed his wrist to pull him up and shoved him toward the suite. I found Dibbins’s file in the office. I took it back and stuck it in Brenda’s limp hands. “You’ll have to ride with them and explain things. Call me when you get to the hospital.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whimpered.

This, from a woman who’d buried bodies in her backyard. “Of course you can,” I said sternly. Fernando grasped the problem and hurried off to find his fellow worker. Bernie wheeled in a squeaky gurney, and we all gazed dubiously at it.

The lead paramedic finished giving Dibbins the injection and straightened up. “Maybe he’ll make it to the ER, anyway. Bernie, you and me may be filing for workman’s comp before this night is over.”

Fernando reappeared with Guillermo. The four men positioned themselves on either side of the bed and placed the gurney next to it. I felt obliged to grab Dibbins’s ankles and do the best I could to help. It took us more than ten minutes to make the transfer, but somehow we did.

Rotating the Statue of Liberty would have been easier.

The men rolled the gurney to the ambulance. With my encouragement, Brenda trailed after them. I put her in the front seat, buckled her seat belt for her, and reminded her to call me from the hospital. The paramedics and the orderlies were trying to heft the gurney high enough to slide it into the ambulance when Toby appeared. Very much the team captain, he reassigned their positions to his satisfaction, and took a deep breath. Seconds later the gurney was inside. The paramedics goggled at him as they realized who he was. Before they could ask for his autograph, I reminded them of their patient.

Toby and I watched the ambulance as it drove away, its siren blaring and blue lights flashing. “Thanks for helping,” I said.

“Yeah, well, something to break up the monotony. So what about dinner?”

“That’s up to the staff.”

“The chef and his boys split. The maids haven’t shown up since they left a couple of hours ago.”

We went up to the porch. “Maybe Rodolfo or Guillermo was scheduled to pick them up in the van, but all this delayed him.” I stopped as I heard a vehicle coming around from the parking area. “See? One of them is on his way to get them.”

Actually, two of them were on their way, and I had a sinking feeling they wouldn’t be back anytime soon. And since there wouldn’t be any trays to deliver, it didn’t much matter if the maids came back. “I’d better call the motel and see what’s going on.”

“You’d better do something. I’m hungry.”

“That’s the least of my concerns,” I said as I went to the desk and dialed the number of the pay phone at the bar & grill. After ten rings, a gravelly male voice answered, “What?”

The jukebox was blaring in the background, indicating that happy hour was under way. I raised my voice and said, “Let me speak to Ruby Bee.”

“Don’t see her right offhand.”

“Then go find her.”

“Might be in the ladies’. Last time I went in there, purely by mistake, I liked to git my head dunked in the toilet. Call back later.” He hung up.

“Damnation,” I muttered.

Toby scowled like a four-year-old. “I’m hungry. This place is costing me nearly two grand a day. I could be staying at the Ritz-Carlton for less than that.”

I pushed the phone toward him. “Feel free to call and see if they have any rooms available.”

“So I can get thrown in jail for contempt? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re a real man-hater, with your prissy hair and baggy clothes and smart-ass mouth. What happened—boyfriend dump you at the prom?” He shoved the phone off the desk and took a step toward me. “Or maybe you’re just frustrated, living out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by toothless jerks. When’s the last time you got laid?”

I was not inclined to answer his question. “Cut out this crap,” I said coldly.

“Ooh, did I strike a nerve?” he said with a sneer. Beneath his shirt, his muscles were rippling as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Hey, where is everybody?” Dawn called as she came into the reception room. She stopped and took in the situation. “Fercrissake, Toby, when are you going to grow up? I hate to break it to you, pinup boy, but not every woman in the world wants to screw you. Why don’t you go take a cold shower?” She looked at me. “What’s going on? There’s nobody out by the pool or in the kitchen. All the Mexicans have disappeared. I can’t even find Brenda. This place is turning into a morgue.”

“Brenda went with Dr. Dibbins in the ambulance, and the Mexicans…went. Walter’s been gone all day. Dr. Stonebridge is here, as far as I know, so that makes four of us.”