The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) (9 page)

“He liked you, you know,” she called from the main area. The phone stopped ringing.

I almost dropped the trash can, but managed to carry it to the back hallway. “Are you serious?”

Eunice nodded. “He told me so one night. Said you did your job well, and no one could tell you hadn’t had formal medical language training. He admired your work ethic, first with the soap business, and then making baby food from scratch. He said that you wouldn’t bend to people in this town.”

“Wow.” How the man knew me like that, I’d never know. And I’d ignore the backhanded complement about my lack of formal training. He snacked on my baby food and liked my work.

Unbidden tears gathered in my eyes. “I’ll take the trash out back.”

I lugged the trash back down the short hallway and out the back door behind the building. Heat shimmered outside. Other than parking out back sometimes, the medical workers tried to avoid the back lot. It needed patching, and straggly weeds liked to find their way through the cracks in the pavement. Kids used the parking lot as a shortcut to head to the convenience store on the corner.

I discovered the usual drink cups and candy wrappers that had blown across the area. Some of the weeds had gotten high enough to trap some of the refuse. Someone’s sock, a paper lunch bag in a crumpled ball.

I picked both of them up after I got rid of the trash.

Something shiny winked at me in the weeds, so I picked it up. An insulin vial, partly used. I couldn’t throw this out, not with the regular trash, so I stuffed the vial in my pocket. I entered Dr. Bradley’s office to see Eunice at his desk.

“Not sure what else to do, except see what Franklin plans for all of Dr. Bradley’s things.”

I glanced at my watch. Time was officially up. “Sorry, I really need to leave. I’ve got to pick up Hannah now. I’m really happy my momma likes to watch her, but I don’t want to start imposin’ on her.”

Then I left before Eunice could make up another excuse for me to stay. I knew she needed help, but there were days when I just couldn’t devote time to everyone and everything that came my way. I did drop off the earring at the police station. Jerry squawked about it being useless, but I think he was more frustrated at the unanswered questions surrounding Dr. Bradley’s death. As I left, the thought that Dr. Bradley had liked me rattled around in my head. If someone had killed him, and I was pretty certain something foul had happened in his office that night, I needed to find whoever did it. I owed that to Eunice too.

Chapter Seven

The next morning, I stumbled from bed to the ringing of the phone. Hannah’s tooth had finally made its appearance, but not until the early hours of the morning. Her whimpers and cries wouldn’t let me sleep. Then she got colicky and suffered through that. Ben had offered to stay home to take care of Hannah when she woke up. In my sleep-deprived fog, I told him no.

Now I regretted it as tripped over Spot, stubbed my toe on the kitchen tiles, and reached for the phone. “’Lo?”

“Mrs. Hartley, where are you?” Sadie’s voice traveled across the line and bit into my eardrum. She’d done a great job this summer so far of managing Tennessee River Soaps for me, and I was relieved to find someone I could trust to take care of business.

“Huh?” Coffee. I didn’t know what time it was, but I knew somewhere in the world it was coffee time.

“It’s Wednesday.”

“Okay?”

“Mommy’s Morning?”

Those two words snapped me wide awake. “Oh, no! I forgot. How many are there?”

“Just Gloria and Jenna so far. Oops, here come Mia and Lizzie. Maryann and Zoë called and said they’ll be here soon.”

“Stall them, make some coffee, break open some soap samples. I’ll check on Hannah and see if she’s awake. Give me twenty minutes?”

“Done!”

I slammed the phone down. Boy, did I owe Sadie. I dashed down the hall. Clean clothes. I had to have something presentable I could wear. A pile of laundry waited for my attention today, but that would have to wait until later . . . if I could get to it.

When I passed Hannah’s door, I skidded to a stop. This habit was hard to break. People said once you had a child, you quit thinking of yourself first. Not so for me, maybe. I pushed her door open to hear soft babbling.

“Sleep good?”

Hannah clung to the edge of her crib and smiled at me. No one would have known she’d been up half the night crying over colic and a budding tooth.

“Well, we’re going to town this morning to Mommy’s store. Mia and Lizzie will be there. Maryann and Zoë, too. Won’t that be fun?”

More squeals.

A search through Hannah’s dresser revealed she had only one clean outfit left, and I wasn’t about to bring her to town in a simple pink onesie. Baby girl clothes are sweet enough to eat with a spoon, and I, who’d never been a clotheshorse, had a daughter with enough outfits to wear without repeating for two weeks. Which meant I hadn’t done laundry in . . . I didn’t care to think.

Once I had her in a fresh diaper and her pink plaid jumper and matching pink sandals (which she’d probably kick off during the ride to town), I scurried down the hall to our bedroom. Clean T-shirt. Clean denim shorts. Favorite comfortable slip-on sandals. A brush to tame my hair. Which I pulled a few stray grays from.

Food. I had to feed Hannah. What kind of a mother was I? I could skip a meal, but not my baby. I scurried with Hannah on my hip to the kitchen and warmed a bottle from the fridge. Hannah slurped on that, while I opened up another jar of peaches. From now on, I’d always think of Dr. Bradley, chomping down on my baby food.

A mew sounded by my feet as Spot trotted around on her kitty paws. Someone else’s tummy growled, so I filled the cat dish. Andromeda as mommy, strike two.

We blazed into Tennessee River Soaps twenty-five minutes later. Sadie was showing the assembled moms the Peachy Keen bath soap.

“Y’all, I’m so sorry.” I shifted Hannah on my hip. “Hannah had a rough night last night, and I was sleeping in. I totally forgot what morning it is. After all, it’s been a wild few days.”

“No problem,” said Mia. “I had to prop my eyelids open this morning when Lizzie woke up at six. Terrance’s back has been killing him, and we were up at the ER until four this morning so he could get a shot. My momma sat home with Lizzie.”

Sadie brought me a cup of coffee, prepared just the way I liked it. “Here, you could probably use this.”

“Thanks.” I let Hannah down into the gated play area where the other babies rolled, ambled, and chewed on their toys.

Gloria’s little girl Jenna pricked at my heart. Nearly eighteen months old, and still not walking, the child rocked on her knees, then scrabbled like a crab over to Hannah and gave her a twisted grin. Not too long from now, Hannah would be running circles around her much older friend.

We spent some time using face scrub, and I listened to the young women giggle and laugh at each other’s faces covered with the soap. One of them asked Gloria how she was doing after her hysterectomy. So, so young to have that kind of surgery. I looked at my little bug, sucking on a block.

“Fine, fine.” Gloria smiled. “Now I can focus on Jenna.”

“How is she doing?” someone asked.

“Better and better.” Gloria cast a loving glance at her daughter, but her mouth set itself into a harsh line. She sighed. “If only we could go back in time, though. I would have done so much differently.”

“It’s not your fault what happened.” Mia slung an arm around Gloria’s shoulder. “Things can happen during delivery. You didn’t know. Dr. Bradley couldn’t have known anything would go wrong, either.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Gloria went to the little sink in the corner of the store, and ran her facecloth under some water. She started wiping her face clean of the facial scrub. “I could lie awake every night and make myself sick about it. Who could have thought a few minutes without air could make Jenna . . .”

“I’m sorry, hon. We just don’t know sometimes, do we?” Maryann touched Gloria’s shoulder.

“It’s just hard to watch her struggle to do what children her age can do. Vic gets so frustrated sometimes, angry even. He loves her, of course, but . . .”

Anger? I sat up straight. Could Gloria’s husband have done something to Dr. Bradley? He definitely wouldn’t have worn a silver earring, though. Maybe the earring didn’t mean anything, like Eunice had said. But I should find out from Barkha what might have happened to cause Dr. Bradley’s organs to shut down.

Up till now, no one in our group had brought up Dr. Bradley’s death. Nearly all of us had seen him as a physician, and although I knew which ones had and hadn’t, I wasn’t about to cross a privacy line and question them. Unless they offered information on their own, without my asking. A lull in conversation ensued, and the room was filled with the squeals and babbles of infants and toddlers. Sadie was lying on the play carpet and let them climb on her.

“What do you mean, Vic’s angry?” I asked.

“Some days it seems like he can’t accept that our daughter won’t ever be like other kids. I try to explain to him that each day we have with her is a gift, but . . .” Gloria tossed her facecloth into the sink. “I’m sorry.” She fled toward the back, and the restroom.

“I’ll be right back.” Now it was my turn to head to the back. I stood outside the restroom door. “Gloria?” I heard the sink running.

“Just give me a few minutes, please. Victor doesn’t like me to talk about what happened. But sometimes not talking makes it worse.”

“Okay. We’ll . . . be out here. Take your time.”

When I reentered the sales room, the women were chatting quietly.

“Is she all right?” asked Maryann.

“She’ll be okay, I think. We should really keep her in our prayers.” I sat back down in my chair. What could I say or do to comfort her? Exfoliating and tightening my pores didn’t appeal to me anymore.

“Sure, right.” Maryann nodded, and we all fell silent again. Gloria reentered the sales room, her eyes red. She rejoined us at the table.

Mia broke the silence. “How do you get Hannah to go to sleep at bedtime? Lizzie gives me fits every night. I can’t stand to hear her crying and I just give in and bring her in bed with us. Which doesn’t help with Terrance’s back hurting so bad.”

I suddenly realized they all focused on me. Like I had all of this parenting experience. Sure, I had at least ten years of age on the group, but that didn’t make me an expert on babies. I had a bunch of questions myself.

“I let her stay up and play for an hour or so after dinner, and then I lay her down in her crib with one of her toys.” I took another sip of coffee. Sadie had brewed the good stuff today. “One thing that helps us is white noise—like leaving a fan on in Hannah’s room on nights she has a hard time settling down. Nine months old, and she’s already thinking she’s missing out on something when Ben and I stay up late.”

The women laughed.

“So where’d you hear about the fan thing?”

“Dr. Bradley, actually,” I had to admit. One night I was up late typing a dictation in which he’d told a mother about the possible solution to her child’s nighttime crying. But I didn’t tell them that much.

“You must learn a lot working for the doctors,” said Gloria.

“I do. Dr. Bradley and Dr. Mukherjee really know their stuff,” I admitted.

“What a shock about his death, and that break-in too.” Mia shook her head. “I wonder if the police have any leads.”

“I’m sure they must.” I stood to head over to my tiny refrigerator in my office nook. “Does anyone want any coffee cake?”

“Sure, count me in,” said Gloria.

I found the coffee cake wrapped in the fridge and listened to the women’s conversation about losing one of Greenburg’s physicians, and what might happen to the practice. No one said anything out of the ordinary. I chided myself silently. I had no right to suspect anyone. Dr. Bradley had hundreds of patients, and I wasn’t about to start methodically nosing through each one of their business and suspecting them. Gloria’s words about Vic, though . . .

But then the police had Dr. Bradley’s files.

“So what do you know about the practice, since you work for them?” Mia asked me when I returned with the package.

“I know Dr. Mukherjee is taking over his caseload for the time being. I’m not sure if they’re going to hire another doctor, or what. They probably will.” I found some napkins and doled out the coffee cake to everyone at the table.

“Well, I’m not going to Dr. Muke-ajee, or however you say her name. I can never get it right.” Gloria chomped on her chunk of coffee cake. Her unexpected remark made us all stare at her.

“Um, okay,” I said.

Gloria’s face turned red as she chewed. She swallowed before continuing. “I’m sorry. That sounded bad. I mean, she really hasn’t been here in Greenburg that long. My mother and aunt go to Dr. Lewis in Corinth. They really like him. He’s not too cute, but not creepy either, if you know what I mean. I don’t want a good-looking doctor to see me in one of those gowns they make you change into.”

The women giggled. I shook my head. “I could introduce you to Dr. Mukherjee. She’s a very caring person, and a great doctor. Easy to talk to.”