The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) Read online

  “I understand,” I repeated. My cheeks stung like I’d been slapped. “Y’all, I need to finish my lunch, and then I have more work to do.”

  “But I am planning on hiring you for the health fair on July fourteenth,” Franklin added. “I’ve found a new physician to join the practice and this will be the perfect way to introduce him to the community.”

  My head spun from Bradley’s dismissal.

  I ripped my focus from my swirling thoughts and pointed it at Franklin’s words. “All right. Health fair it is. What do you need my help with?”

  “Actually, I think you would be helpful in assisting Eunice with booth setup. We’re putting a large tent in the front parking lot, and we’ll have all the booths inside. I also would like you to be in charge of the hand-washing station, given your, er, soap experience.”

  “I think I can handle that.” If anyone had experience with soap, that would be me. Eunice’s chameleon behavior had my head reeling too. At first when she told me about Franklin assuming control of Bradley Medical, I’d sensed almost a disdain in her tone. Now it seemed like she accepted the change with something akin to excitement. Maybe she was just relieved about keeping her job.

  I left the three of them, Franklin discussing revised office procedures with Eunice, and headed for the kitchen. Only then did I realize I’d left Dr. Bradley’s folder containing the information about the Treens’ lawsuit in Barkha’s office. I’d have to go back for it, but I couldn’t do that now, not without an awkward explanation on my part.

  Franklin’s remark about the recordings floated in my head as I took my first bite of sandwich. He had a point. A disk or a digital recorder leaving the office contained private information. Or maybe he didn’t like the idea that a local person, namely me, knew the personal health information of local patients. But then Eunice had access to the medical records as she processed patients and took vital signs. He wasn’t trying to get rid of her yet.

  Guilt, however, could cause him to get rid of me. If he had done something to his uncle and only recently considered the recording Dr. Bradley made the night of his death, maybe he was sending me a clear message that he was in charge. I wondered if Jerry had told Franklin about the recording I’d found. Probably not. Maybe Franklin was afraid I’d make another discovery in the office. Guilt forced people do drastic things sometimes.

  “Stop it,” I muttered to myself. Of course I was ticked because I felt like my loyalty hadn’t been appreciated. With Ben and I running two businesses, we always had to watch operating costs. The increased costs of running the restaurant made us shuffle our budget more. God, please help me let this go.

  On the other hand, heading up a hand-washing booth would help promote Tennessee River Soaps, and Franklin had probably handed me a good marketing opportunity. Probably unintentional, but I ought to be grateful anyway. Plus, seeing the little kids learning how to wash their hands would be fun. The idea almost made me smile.

  Barkha entered the kitchen and sat down across from me. “Are you all right?”

  I shrugged. “I guess. I’m still in shock. Not what I was expecting today. That’s for sure. The health fair will be fun. I think.” My appetite had fled, and I wanted to do the same.

  “I think it’s going to be a headache in some ways.” Barkha frowned. “Normally I love community outreach and patient education, but I don’t look forward to some aspects of the day.”

  Eunice’s voice traveled through the kitchen doorway. She was saying something about the appointment schedules. Franklin’s response echoed back, saying he had to leave for now, but would be back lunchtime tomorrow.

  “I think it’s awfully suspicious that young Mr. Bradley specifically mentioned transcription and the recordings,” Barkha said. “Does he think you might know something? Perhaps cutting you from the staff is a convenient way for him keep you from looking into it anymore. I’d look around, but it’s a bit risky for me.”

  “I have no idea. But the same thought crossed my mind.” My eyes stung, but no way would I crumble. Not here. “This also means I’ve only got less than a week to investigate here.”

  Barkha unwrapped her plastic fork and stabbed her salad. This particular Oat Grass concoction looked good, with its grilled chicken strips and peanut sauce. “I can’t look into the medical records of patients I haven’t treated, not without good cause. Legally that won’t fly.”

  “Right. And neither can I.” I savored my bite of spinach and feta. Anything healthy, with cheese on it, too, was a winner in my opinion.

  “Hiram would make sure any information pertinent to the case would also be available to the police. I’m going to act on his behalf.” Barkha paused. “You’re right. Let’s talk to Jerry, and I’ll talk to Franklin also. But I wonder if Franklin is subject to questioning, especially since he is the sole heir—besides Eunice, of course.”

  We sat there for a moment. I reminded myself of what Barkha and I wanted to learn. The truth would clear her completely. Both of us, actually. “We can meet with Jerry. I could call the station and see if he can see us. What’s your schedule like this afternoon?”

  “Booked solid.”

  “Hm. Guess we’ll have to go now.” I couldn’t believe I was deciding a doctor’s lunch hour for her. “Take your salad with you. Jerry won’t care.”

  “I just couldn’t arrive there unannounced.” But Barkha closed the cover on her salad box.

  “Well, I can and I do. Sometimes. If Jerry’s busy he’ll say so, but usually he can spare a few minutes if I have some questions about a case.”

  “You’ve done this before, I gather?”

  “Yes. So you’ll come with me?”

  Barkha smiled. “Why not? This day started out crazy for me, and it’s grown crazier by the minute. I need to be back by one, though.”

  “Let’s go.”

  The ear-splitting grin Jerry wore when he saw us wasn’t for me. Barkha’s cheeks flushed. He left his glass-windowed office before I could even tell Fleta why we’d come, dragging our box lunches with us. We even grabbed the Treen file.

  “Ladies, to what do I owe the honor? I just sat down to my lunch, and you can both come back and join me.” If Jerry bowed to kiss Barkha’s hand, I knew I’d crack up. But he didn’t. He just stood there, smiling.

  Barkha glanced at me. “Your sister-in-law may have found some important information for Hiram’s case.”

  “Come back, come right on back, ladies.”

  We followed him into his office. Barkha and I set our lunch boxes on our laps, while Jerry dug in desk and produced a stack of napkins. Then he called Fleta and asked her to get us some cold sodas from the break room. Wow. I’d never been offered a cold soda before.

  Once we had enough napkins and drinks, and Jerry found a plastic fork for Barkha, he asked, “What information do you have for me?”

  I held up the folder. “Dr. Bradley kept a folder on the Treens. They’d lodged a malpractice suit against him. This folder was stuck between some patient charts on his desk. The ones Eunice wouldn’t let you have.”

  Jerry nodded. “I’m aware of that. In fact, I’m waiting to hear from the judge about a warrant to subpoena relevant medical records. Not just in the Treens’ case, but there are several other key individuals we’re planning to question. It’s hard, without a clear cause of death at this point. That warrant could take a while, especially since it involves medical records. I can just hear people now, wondering if we’ll be nosing through their business.”

  “Gaining access to private medical records isn’t easy,” Barkha said.

  “No, but when that warrant comes through, I’d like to appoint you to help us.” Jerry picked up the folder and thumbed through it.

  I thought Jerry had addressed Barkha, but he looked at me. “You would? But what about Barkha?”

  “That would be preferable, but I realize you’ve seen records for most of the patients at Bradley Medical. And with Barkha’s admitted past conflict with Hiram, I can’t have h
er assist me.” He sounded a bit disappointed at that.

  “Okay, when you need help, let me know.” Then I recalled the avalanche of bills that Eunice had shown me. “Have you looked into Franklin’s affairs too? Eunice showed me a stack of bills today. He’s in over his head with student loans.”

  Jerry nodded. “We know about Franklin’s situation. But we’ve also checked his alibi. He’s clear.”

  “Ah, that’s what I figured.” But Jerry wanted my help. In the past, and even recently, I’d stepped on Jerry’s toes, gotten in the way during investigations, and put myself in some dangerous situations in the name of sleuthing. Paperwork? Now that I could handle.

  “Was that all you needed to ask me about?” Jerry glanced from Barkha, to me, then back to Barkha again. “Not that I mind the company, of course. It’s not often I get to take a normal lunch break.”

  “There is one thing we’d like to know.” I glanced at Barkha who appeared to be engaged in a nonverbal conversation with Jerry. “Have any of the toxicology reports have come back yet? Any suspicious substances in his system? Is it too soon to know that? And what about my baby food?”

  “You, Andi, are off the hook. Or, your baby food is.” Jerry looked at Barkha again. “Do you know if Dr. Bradley was taking any medications?”

  “No. We didn’t discuss matters that didn’t pertain to the practice.”

  “What about his mood? Did he seem depressed in any way? Worried about anything? Any unusual behaviors? Did he seem like he felt threatened at all? People can say a lot without talkin’, you know.” His eyes spoke volumes. I’d never seen Jerry struggle like this before, to keep his personal feelings from drifting into his professional life. But then Jerry didn’t have much of a personal life outside of work.

  “He had been moodier than usual,” Barkha admitted.

  “I’ll say.” I couldn’t resist jumping in at that. “As far as unusual behaviors, he was snacking on my peach baby food like crazy. I’ve never seen anyone do that before, at least not a jar a day for over a week.”

  “What did you say?” Barkha stared at me. “Because, come to think of it, he used one of the blood sugar monitors one afternoon two weeks ago. I asked him if he needed help with anything, but in true Hiram fashion, he growled. That might account for his mood swings, if he was having glucose spikes in the afternoon and then a glucose crash.”

  “Oh, great. So you mean the peach baby food was causing him problems?” Here I thought I was in the clear from possibly poisoning him, and now this …

  Barkha shook her head. “I mean that if his glucose level dropped in the afternoon, it could have caused the mood swings. Which meant he needed something sugary to help him recover, fast.”

  “So he’d gobble down a jar of my peach baby food. No wonder Jerry was so interested in all those jars, besides the obvious.” That didn’t make me feel much better. “But if he had low blood sugar, what if his blood sugar dropped in the evening? Could it, if he hadn’t eaten again?”

  “It could, but he’d eaten supper that night.” She looked at Jerry. “Sorry, I’m afraid our discussion really isn’t helping your case any.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t mind.”

  The guy could probably sit and listen to her talk for hours.

  “So, any persons of interest?” I asked. “I’ve already thought of Franklin, possibly Terrance Higgins. And there’s the Treens.” I waved the file.

  Jerry nodded. “You may have something there.” The phone on his desk rang, so he took the call.

  “Really? Great. Get me that warrant and we’ll roll.” Jerry hung up the phone and looked at both of us. “We’re bringing someone in for questioning. It’ll probably make the news, so you may as well know.”

  Barkha and I looked at each other. I found my voice. “Did you find more evidence?”

  “We got some prints on the medicine cabinet. Not good ones, but good enough to get an ID.” Jerry frowned. “So we have a person of interest after all.”

  “Who?”

  He remained silent.

  “C’mon, Jerry. Just a name.”

  “Terrance Higgins.”

  Oh, poor Mia!

  We headed back to the office, our spirits a little deflated.

  I broke the silence. “Mia told me Terrance has been in a lot of pain. I think he’s got a slipped disk or something in his back.”

  Barkha said, “In the past, I’ve heard patients crying and begging the doctor for a refill of their pain medicines. There’s a fine line between honest pain and narcotic dependence.”

  I sighed as I pulled my Jeep into the parking place next to Barkha’s BMW. “Well, it’s not quite one yet. You should have enough time to catch your breath before you go in for your appointments. I’m going to check something out in Dr. Bradley’s office.”

  We entered the office. The blast of air conditioning prickled my arms. A few patients glanced up at us from their magazines.

  “You’re back. Good.” Eunice had hit her office manager mode.

  “I’m going to work in Dr. Bradley’s office for a little while. I never finished with those charts that needed filing,” I said. Barkha headed for a stack of charts, but Eunice eyed me curiously.

  “Thank you, dear. I haven’t had time to organize that desk. If you find any bills, just bring them out here.”

  “I sure will.” My heart pounded as I entered Dr. Bradley’s office one more time. I wouldn’t have more chances like this. Yet again I sat in his desk chair, and tried to picture that night. Dr. Bradley, droning along dictating. A boxed supper from Oat Grass on his desk. The stack of charts, now filed in their proper places. I gathered up the envelopes scattered on the desk and sorted them. A few bills, an envelope from a medical supply store.

  The bathroom behind me. Someone had to have hidden there, and done something to him. If the perp had approached from the main reception area, Dr. Bradley would have seen him right away and challenged him. If only Jerry had more information on any other substances found in Dr. Bradley’s system. It felt like he had plenty of information, but he wasn’t telling me, not in front of Barkha, anyway.

  But I could still reconstruct what happened. I slipped into the stark white bathroom and the tiny closet behind the door. Yes, I could fit. Maybe not a man, though. He’d be mighty crunched inside the space. A medium-framed guy might be able to close the door on himself. Certainly not a guy Ben or Jerry’s size.

  Yet I’d found an earring that Eunice had said didn’t belong to her.

  So, whoever this was swooped out of the bathroom at an opportune time, came up behind Dr. Bradley, and—? I stared at his leather chair.

  “C’mon, Andi, think.” A murderer needed motive, means, and opportunity. I’d found the opportunity on that section of dictation tape. Someone had lain in wait, tucked inside the bathroom closet. Jerry had pooh-poohed at the broken earring. Motive would come the more we looked at the suspects.

  I would have to find out from Eunice who had appointments the day before Dr. Bradley died, and who’d stopped by the office. If someone had planned this murder, he’d make sure he had easy access to that closet. Most patients didn’t know the floor plan of the practice.

  Someone knew this place well. I picked up the stack of bills along with another stack of papers. Eunice would enjoy going through them, and feel as if she were contributing to getting the doctor organized at last.

  I glanced at my watch. Time to pick up Hannah

  Twenty minutes later, I drove up Momma and Daddy’s driveway to find it empty. Momma had mentioned going to her diabetic education class, and she didn’t mind toting Hannah along with her. Which made me feel guilty that I hadn’t taken Hannah with me. Momma had shushed me, saying she loved showing off her granddaughter. The class was supposed to be over at twelve-thirty, and, giving Momma thirty minutes to drive home from Corinth and drop off one of her friends, she should have made it back at one-thirty, the very latest. My watch said one-fifty.

  I called Momma’s cel
l phone, which went straight to voice mail. I didn’t call Daddy, because he was away in Memphis and probably had his phone off too. This left me time to sit and wait in the driveway, and let the thoughts gallop through my mind.

  What if Momma had gotten sick, or gotten in a wreck? She’d complained of dizzy spells when her blood sugar dropped. If that happened while she was on the road …

  I got out of the Jeep and tried not to pace. Time crawled. I couldn’t bother Jerry with this. My mind wouldn’t shut off, so I stilled it in the best way I knew how.

  “Lord, I know that You know exactly where Momma and Hannah are right now. Please help me be calm as I wait. I can’t protect them myself, but You can.” My mind quieted some, and I listened to the breeze whispering in the pines.

  A vehicle passed on the main road. Not Momma’s car. I slumped with my back against the Jeep, and tried dialing once more. I should have driven back to town and run another errand, but didn’t want to waste the gas.

  Finally, Momma’s Buick turned into their driveway. She parked next to my Jeep.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Momma said when she got out of the car. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

  I didn’t bother telling her I’d been sitting in their driveway for over half an hour, and getting her cell phone voice mail the entire time. “What happened?”

  “Poor Maisey. I gave her a ride to class today, and she was so upset I had to stop and help her when we got back to her home.” Momma shook her head. “She couldn’t find some of her medicine. One of her pill bottles was missing. So I helped her call in a refill.”

  “Now that could be dangerous, losing her medication.” My heart rate had finally slowed to a more normal face instead of a jackrabbit’s cadence. “Does she have anyone help her?”