The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) (20 page)

Gloria nodded. “I’ve never left her with anyone before, other than my mom when I work afternoons.”

“She’ll be fine. Really. I should have your cell phone number, though, just in case I need to reach you.”

“No problem. I should have thought of that too.”

I grabbed the note pad and pen by the phone in the kitchen, then returned to the living room and exchanged the pad and pen for Jenna. “Here. I’ll look for you after lunchtime, then.”

“Sure.” She wrote down the numbers and handed the pad back to me. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. I almost feel like I’m going on vacation.”

“Just follow me to Hannah’s room.” We headed down the hall, and stopped at Hannah’s doorway. “Here we are. See?”

“What a cute room. But then your house is beautiful too. Did you build?”

“Yes, we did.” I touched the baby gate. “Our little princesses can roam this whole room and have a good time while I get the laundry done. After the first load’s going, I’ll give them a snack. Which reminds me. She’s not allergic to anything, is she?”

“Oh, I hope not. I don’t think she is.”

“Good. Because I’ve seen what food allergies can do to someone.”

I set Jenna down on the other side of the gate, on the carpeting. She crab-scrabbled over to where Hannah played.

“Now’s our chance to make a run for it.” We moms slipped back to the living room. “I’ll just be careful with what I feed her. I was planning on apple and crackers. Do you have her bottle and formula?”

“In the diaper bag. She might not want it, though.” Gloria handed me the bag.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Gloria left for her morning of relaxation, and I went to deal with the laundry after a quick peek at the girls.

“Oh, Lord,” I prayed, “help Gloria and her husband raise Jenna. Help her grow strong and maybe even catch up where she lags behind. And thank You for my Hannah being strong and well.”

I sorted the laundry into piles and started the washer. Might as well get the jeans done, although it was so hot out I didn’t think I’d wear mine anytime soon. I picked up a stray pair left over from the week before and something slid out and clacked across the tile floor. It glided to a stop just short of a pile of socks. Spot leaped out of the pile of socks she was burrowing in and started to paw at it at this new “toy.”

It was the insulin vial I’d found in the back parking lot, and had meant to give to Eunice to put in the medical waste. I’d forgotten it. And now it took on a whole new meaning, given the research I’d gleaned from the Internet last night. I sure needed to reach Jerry. There had to be a way to find out who this vial belonged to. If it was simply a vial that didn’t quite make it into the disposal properly, that was one thing. I held up the vial with my fingertips. Then again, I could be looking at a possible murder weapon.

The time dragged as the morning went on. As far as household chores went, I hated laundry the most. All I could think of was the insulin vial and its owner. People just didn’t leave vials in parking lots. Or did they?

After Gloria picked up Jenna and Hannah work from her nap, I made the trek into town to see if Jerry was at the police station. I had the insulin vial tucked into a zippered plastic bag inside my purse. I definitely wouldn’t lose track of it again.

Since I had Hannah, my secret weapon, Fleta let me back to Jerry’s office without too much squawking.

Jerry looked up from his desk and smiled at Hannah. “Hey, it’s my favorite niece.” She gurgled and flapped her arms. “What brings you here today?”

“I found something, Jerry. In the laundry.” I set my bag on Jerry’s desk and fished through it with my free hand until I found the plastic bag containing the vial.

“So, this is important to me because . . . ?”

“When I was helping at the office right after Dr. Bradley’s death, I found this in the back parking lot at the medical group. I meant to give it to Eunice to put in the medical waste, and then I sort of got sidetracked.”

“Like I said, this is important because . . . ?”

I yanked out the papers Ben and I had printed last night. “Here. I’m not a medical examiner or anything, just a citizen trying to piece some ideas together. You might want to check into insulin poisoning. I’m not convinced that insulin vial was just out there lying around in the weeds for no reason.”

“It could be purely a coincidence.”

“You’re right. I’ve thought of that. But if whoever owns that vial comes out clean, then no problem.” Hannah’s weight was pulling me to one side, so I sat down.

Jerry flipped the pages. “What’s this about Greenburg High School football? Did this make it into the stack of papers by mistake?”

“Um, sort of. It was a wild goose chase that Ben and I started chasing.” I pointed to the stack of papers in Jerry’s hand.” Barkha was supposed to talk to you about these records last night. She wanted to talk to you at dinner, but with her parents showing up unexpectedly, we all got sidetracked.”

“I’m getting ready to call her, actually. What’s this about?”

“There’s a discrepancy in the narcotics inventory and the invoiced orders at the medical group. It looks awfully fishy. Someone’s been skimming narcotics from Bradley Medical. And you did say there’s been a growing problem of illegal narcotics sales locally.”

Jerry nodded. “We’ve been trying to find a connection somehow, but nothing has turned up so far.”

“Until Dr. Bradley died. I’d hate to think Eunice could be involved . . . and have done something to Dr. Bradley if he found out.” I told Jerry what I’d witnessed outside the grocery store, and how Eunice had acted. Hannah started doing her impression of a greased pig, so I wrangled her back onto my lap. I didn’t need to go to the gym, not with the full-body baby-lugging workout.

Jerry looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, thanks for bringing this in. I’ll pass this information along, and we’ll check out this vial. Sure, there’s probably no fingerprints, but maybe whoever owns this vial can help us out.”

I stood to leave. “I meant to ask—how’s Franklin Bradley?”

“He’s had a rough night, but I questioned him this morning. Said someone forced him off the road.”

“Wow, so I guessed right,” I said aloud. “Do you have any idea of who might have done that?”

Jerry shook his head. “He didn’t get a good look at the vehicle. I suspect he was on the phone, but there’s clearly damage to his front fender and some paint marks from another vehicle.”

Franklin was probably beside himself about his vehicle. “Jerry, I think whoever did that to him was the one pilfering the narcotics from the cabinet, maybe even the one who killed Dr. Bradley.”

He nodded. “We’ll be investigating every possibility. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”

I rose and headed for the door.

I stopped at the doorway. “Oh, did you get Barkha’s gift yet?”

“Stopping by the store after work to pick it up.”

“Have you talked to her since dinner?”

“No . . . I’ve been kind of busy.”

“I was worried about her. Having her parents show up like that had to be a shock.”

Jerry nodded. “She’s a strong woman. But maybe I’ll give Barkha that birthday present a little early. Maybe she could use the cheering up.”

“Smart man. I also meant to ask what happened with her father at dinner, when you were outside getting their luggage?” I’d been dying to know and dared not speculate aloud with Ben. Some things a woman just had to know, if even for her friend’s sake.

“The man’s direct, and I like that. Soon as we stepped onto the porch, he started asking me how long I’d known Barkha, and if we had been dating and if so, for how long. He also tried to make it clear to me about her buddy from Atlanta, Tushar. I think it’s a cultural thing for her family probably, but I don’t see how Barkha would jump at an arranged marriage.”

“Well, they grew up together. Both sets of parents probably assumed the two would make a good match. And one time, they probably would have. But then Barkha put a kink in everyone’s plans.”

“See? She’s probably conflicted. But then her father started saying plainly that she would go back to Atlanta, or if she stayed here she would marry Tushar. He said her dilemma was the result of her past poor decisions.”

I shook my head. “So when did you get him to growl at you?”

Jerry sighed. “I should have kept my mouth shut, probably. But she’s finding her way, and I’m not going to push her. I did tell him that yes, I cared for his daughter, but so far we haven’t dated or anything. And that I care for her enough to not overstep my bounds while she’s going through this, and that the decision will be hers, not because I’m pressuring her.”

“Whoa, Jer. Good job.”

He shrugged and half-grinned. Then the tyrant on his desk, the phone, started to ring. “I’ll see you later, Andi.”

I waved good-bye and Hannah waved too. I couldn’t help but grin. Maybe I’d gain another sister after all.

Chapter Seventeen

It never fails to amaze me how much somebody can get done in Greenburg just by bringing some food. For nearly every occasion, people dragged out a menu or called a potluck. I needed an excuse to ask Eunice more questions about Dr. Bradley. So I stopped by Oat Grass to pick up a set of box lunches as a treat for the medical group. Plus Barkha had called, explaining that the new transcription service wasn’t on board yet, and she had gone ahead and dictated on the digital recorder. The practice would likely be quiet, with people heading out of town for vacations. A perfect time for some uninterrupted conversation with Eunice. Or so I hoped. I told Barkha I’d stop by the office after picking up lunch at Oat Grass.

I made a quick side trip to Momma’s who didn’t at all mind keeping Hannah for a little while. I entered Oat Grass just before twelve on Friday, at the height of the lunch rush.

“Hi, you here for lunch?” the woman behind the counter asked.

“Yes, but my order is to go. I’d like your chicken strip salad with peanut sauce, and the grilled chicken salad with raspberry vinaigrette.”

She scribbled the order down. “You got it. Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

I watched her enter into the kitchen area and pop the order on the board. The kitchen of Oat Grass wasn’t too much different than the one at Honey’s Place. A young woman, her hair caught back in a hair net, grabbed two clear plastic oval bowls and started layering them with a lettuce mixture.

“Hey,” I called out to them. “Is Gloria Treen working later?”

“She’s due in at four. You a friend?”

“Yes. Our daughters play together.”

“She’s had a tough patch since her hysterectomy. Poor thing.” The woman who’d taken my ordered reentered the counter area. “I know when I had mine, I like to have stayed in bed for a month.”

“I’ve heard there’s quite a recovery time.” Chicken sizzled on the grill, and my mouth watered. “I still remember when my momma had hers back when I was in high school.”

“Well, you know how it is. When you’ve got to work, you’ve got to work. Gloria’s a trouper.”

I nodded. “Anything for her little girl.”

“Light on the dressing, or heavy?” the woman at the grill called.

“Medium,” I said. “Don’t want it soggy, or too dry.”

“Gloria’s good at salads. Can’t wait till she’s back full-time,” said the grill woman.

I didn’t care who made my salad, just that it was fresh and yummy, and didn’t make me feel like I was eating health food. The woman assembled the salads with precision.

Ten minutes later I paid for the box lunches and headed to Bradley Medical. I knew it was Friday, when the office closed early. Eunice would be closing the schedule for the week, and I would have one last set of notes to type.

Eunice was saying good-bye to the last patient when I arrived, and Barkha’s office door was closed.

“Hey, I brought y’all some lunch.”

“Wow, thanks.” Eunice had dyed her hair platinum. “We had a few work-ins this morning. Haven’t eaten yet.” I wondered if her hair would eventually fall out, as much as she changed her look.

“I figured Barkha’s still dictating, so I thought I’d wait here and have lunch while she finishes.” I carried our lunches to the counter. “And I decided to bring you one too. Sort of like a ‘thanks, it’s been great workin’ with you’ lunch.”

“That is so sweet of you, hon.” Eunice closed the schedule book.

“Is your favorite the grilled chicken salad with raspberry vinaigrette? I hope so, ’cause that’s what I got.”

“Oh, it is.” She inhaled. “Smells just yummy. Go on and bring that back to the kitchen and I’ll be right there.”

I settled down at the table, realizing I couldn’t come here again, except as a patient, after today.

“Here I am,” Eunice sang out as she entered the kitchen. “I got us some sodas too.”

I pushed Eunice’s box lunch across the table toward her. “Eunice, I have a confession to make.”

She handed me a can of soda. “What’s that?”

“I bought you lunch today, because, um, Eunice, I also wanted to talk to you more . . . about Dr. Bradley’s death. I still feel like I’ve missed something.”