Hideaway Hospital Murders (12 page)

“
Then you’d better not go
for a swim.”

“
Gee, I’m dying here, and
my girlfriend is making jokes.”

“
You’re not
dying
.”

“
My legs are so wobbly, I
can barely stand up.”

“
Poor baby. You’ll feel
better after you eat breakfast. Come on in the kitchen. I’ll give
you a glass of orange juice. It’ll hold you until you get to
Jane’s.”

While Greg was sipping his juice, she said,
“You want to eat lunch with me today?”

“
Sure. Where do you want to
go?”

“
Well, I’m afraid we’ll
have to eat in my office. I’ll only have about 30 minutes to
spare—at 12:30. Is that okay?”

“
Yeah. I’ll bring box
lunches from Jane’s.”

“
If Jane ever went out of
business, you’d starve, wouldn’t you?”

“
I guess so.”

Once Cynthia’s mother moved in, she would
cook for them. At least that was one thing he knew he’d like about
Beverly living there.

“
I’d better get going,”
said Greg. “See you at 12:30.”

He gave her a goodbye,
but-I-don’t-really-want-to-go kiss.

“
I love you,
Greg.”

It sounded so fresh and magical. And his
knees were already weak from the running. How much weaker could
they get before he crumpled to the floor, he wondered. “I love you
too, Cynthia.”

The sparkle in her eyes made him want to say
it over and over.

And Cynthia had begun to believe that the
life of love and happiness she had always dreamed of was finally
within reach.

**********

“
You want to ride with me?”
said the pastor.

“
Sure,” said Greg. He
wondered if Dr. Huff had seen the clueless look in his eyes. It had
taken a full two seconds for Greg to remember that there was a
funeral at 10:00. “Just let me throw on a tie and
jacket.”

He had learned to keep a couple of sport
coats and ties in his office for just such a memory lapse. A suit
would be more appropriate for a funeral, but the immediate family
would not see him anyway. They should already be in their seats by
the time he arrived. And he would be singing over the sound system
from a hidden room.

Greg liked the hidden room concept. One time
he was singing for the funeral of a fifty-something year-old man
who, without warning, had dropped dead in his favorite recliner.
The service was held at a small country church. The widow and
daughters started crying in the middle of Greg’s song. So there he
was, standing at the pulpit, right in front of them, as they cried
their eyes out. He hoped he would never have to do that again.

The 83-year-old woman and her husband had
been faithful church members. But the congregation had seen little
of their three sons after they were grown and out on their own.
They were good ole boys. Nice guys by most standards. But Dr. Huff
would use their mother’s funeral to encourage the sons to seriously
consider their spiritual condition. He had done the same at their
father’s service two years earlier.

Greg was surprised to run into Henry Joe
outside the funeral home. All three boys were known by their first
and middle names. The other two were Harry Jeff and Harvey John.
Henry Joe had followed in his dad’s footsteps, making a living
repairing the old cars in the little town. He had taken over the
shop when the old man finally retired. Henry Joe had replaced the
fuel pump on Greg’s 1965 Bonneville just a few weeks earlier.

“
Hey, Mr. Tenorly,” said
Henry Joe, just before he took another drag on his
cigarette.

Greg hated the smoking, but he appreciated
being addressed formally. Henry Joe had apparently learned manners
from his mama. “How are doing?”

“
I’m okay.”

“
Sorry for your
loss.”

“
Thanks.”

Now Greg needed to move on.
He never knew quite what to say to a son or daughter who had just
lost a parent. He felt so inadequate to handle that part of his
job. He couldn’t even remember what people had said to
comfort
him
when his mother had died. He had felt such guilt for not being
there to protect her. If he hadn’t been off at college he could
have gone to the store for her that night. Maybe
he
could have
avoided the drunk driver’s pickup.

Greg went in the door and looked down the
empty hallway. He quickly walked to the music room. It was a tiny,
with just enough space for two people—if one of them was sitting on
the organ bench.

“
Hi, Greg.”

“
Hey, Sally.” He didn’t
even know her last name or anything about her, except that she was
always there to play the organ.

“
So, you’re doing
Amazing Grace
and
Abide with
Me
, right?” She was looking at the
printed program.

“
Yes, that’s
right.”

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that
saved a wretch like me…

Greg had sung that hymn hundreds, maybe
thousands of times.

Abide with me: fast falls the even tide; the
darkness deepens; Lord with me abide…

In life, in death, O
Lord, abide with me
.

Greg was ready for death, in one sense. He
knew he would go to Heaven to live with God and his mother and
other family members and friends. But first, he wanted to live a
long life on earth. A wonderful life with Cynthia. To have children
and grandchildren. In that sense, he wasn’t ready to die at all.
Funerals are so depressing, he thought.

**********

“
Wonder where Carnie’s
going?” said Macy, standing at a window in Mallie Mae’s
room.

“
There’s no telling,” said
Mallie Mae.

“
I went down to check on
Elmo late last night. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t bothering
him.”

“
Bothering him?”

“
Yeah. I don’t know what
she’s capable of. She might try to seduce him while Carsie’s
gone.”

“
Honey, Elmo has a lot of
flaws, but being unfaithful isn’t one of them,” said Mallie
Mae.

“
I know.” Macy hesitated,
but then blurted it out. “She’s been coming on to me.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
The other night she kissed
me.”

“
What? Why didn’t you tell
me?”

“
I was
embarrassed.”

“
You think she’s gay? Or
bisexual?”

“
I don’t know. And then
last night when I went down to the basement to spy on her, she
opened her door and was standing there naked. She just stood there
staring at me.”

“
So, what did you
do?”

“
I ran away. That woman
scares me.”

“
Sound like she
is
gay.”

“
I’m not sure if she’s gay
or just some kind of wacko—especially after
that
. She just seems dangerous
to me.”

“
Well then, just stay away
from her. She and her sister will be out of our lives
soon.”

“
I hope you’re right,
Mallie Mae.”

Chapter
16

Carnie had studied her printout from the
pharmacy and selected Nancie Jo Gristel as the first ‘volunteer’
for her Hideaway Hospital Clinical Trial. She had learned from
Elmo’s internet printouts that Namenda was being prescribed for
patients with moderate to severe cases of Alzheimer’s. She had
selected Nancie Jo at random from the list and located her house on
the map. She hoped it might be easy since the house was at the end
of a dead end street. If the driveway was on the dead end side of
the house, Mrs. Gristel would be a perfect choice.

Carnie’s 2005 white Chevy Malibu was just
one of a few dozen driving around in Coreyville. She had swapped
out her license plates with a set she took off a junkyard car, just
in case some neighbor actually took notice and remembered the
plates. She figured nobody would find it odd to see a nurse
visiting an 81 year-old Alzheimer’s patient at 11:00 AM.

The house was on the left, at the end of
Bowie Street. She parked in the driveway, behind Nancie Jo’s car,
and walked to the side door, near the back of the house. She
wondered if Mrs. Gristel was fearful about living all alone. The
fact that the old woman’s most-used door faced the woods rather
than the other homes seemed particularly dangerous.

As she stepped onto the porch with her
medical bag in hand, she heard someone playing the piano. She
knocked and waited a full minute. Finally the music stopped and she
knocked again. Twenty seconds later the door opened.

“
Yes?” said the old
woman.

“
Hi. Are you Nancie Joe
Gristel?”

“
Yes, I am.”

“
Well, I’m from Dr.
Johnson’s office.”

“
Really? I’ve never seen
you before.”

“
That’s because I’m new.
Just started this week.”

“
I see. Well, what can I do
for you?”

“
Dr. Johnson is initiating
a new treatment regimen for all his Alzheimer’s
patients.”

“
Okay. But I’m doing fine
right now. And if the doctor wants to see me, I could just make an
appointment and go in to his office.”

“
Oh, of course you could.”
Carnie smiled sweetly. “But he’s so excited about this new medicine
that he wanted to get everybody started on it right away. It’s
getting rave reviews from NIH.”

“
What’s that?”

“
I’m sorry. The National
Institutes of Health.”

“
Okay. Come on
in.”

Carnie went in and followed Nancie Jo to the
living room. The bench was pulled away from the piano, and a piano
score was opened on the music rack.

“
I heard you playing,” said
Carnie, nodding to the piano. “Sounded nice.”

“
Thanks. I’m not really all
that good, but I’m taking lessons. Now what did you say your name
was?”

Carnie didn’t answer. She pulled a small
pistol out of her medical bag and pointed it at Nancie Jo.

“
What are you doing?
I
knew
you
weren’t from Dr. Johnson’s office! Who are you?”

“
Never mind that. You’re
coming with me. And you will do exactly as I say—if you want to
live. Let’s go.”

Carnie motioned for Nancie Jo to walk toward
the kitchen, and she complied. But when the old woman got close to
the door she stopped and bent over in pain, placing her left hand
on the stove for support, clutching her hip with her right
hand.

“
What’s the matter?” said
Carnie.

“
It’s my hip. It goes out
on me sometimes.”

“
Just take it slow and
you’ll be—”

Nancie Jo swung around.

She seems to moving okay
now, Carnie thought. Moving
fast
.

By the time Carnie saw the iron skillet in
the Nancie Jo’s hand it was too late. It whacked her on the side of
the head and she flew sideways onto the floor, dropping the pistol
and the medical bag. Nancie Jo flung the skillet down and scrambled
for the gun. Carnie tried to shake off the dizziness and run toward
her. But Nancie Jo picked up the pistol and pointed at Carnie.

“
Get back!” said Nancie
Jo.

Carnie stumbled backward. Her vision was
getting clearer. Out of the corner of her eye she noted the knife
block, to her right, on the counter. It held eight or ten knives of
various types and sizes. “Look, Lady, I was taking you to a
hospital for clinical trials—for your Alzheimer’s.”

“
Yeah, right. I may have
Alzheimer’s, but I’m not stupid.”

“
I’m telling the truth. You
would be treated by Dr. Elmo Mobley.”

“
The
pediatrician
?”

“
Yes. He just found out his
mother has Alzheimer’s and he’s desperate to find a
cure.”

Nancie Jo had heard that Mallie Mae Mobley
had Alzheimer’s and that Elmo had taken a leave of absence from
his practice.

“
There
is
no cure for Alzheimer’s,”
said Nancie Jo.

“
That’s what I’m saying. He
wants to
find
a cure.”

“
I see. So, Elmo told you
to come to my house and pull a gun on me and force me to
participate in his clinical trial. Yeah, that sounds like Elmo
alright,” said Nancie Jo, with all the sarcasm she could muster.
She inched her way toward the wall phone on her right.

“
You know, you kind of
remind me of my grandma,” said Carnie.

“
Really? So, your
grandmother points a gun at you sometimes?”

Nancie Joe took the receiver off the hook
and was about to dial.

“
No. But if she did, she’d
be smart enough to release the safety,” said Carnie.

In the split second it took Nancie Jo to
look down at the gun, Carnie grabbed a butcher knife from the knife
block and launched it. When Nancie Jo looked up, it was too late.
The handle of the knife hit her squarely in the forehead and
bounced off.