Coughing & Donuts: A Mercy Mares Cozy Mystery (12 page)

BOOK: Coughing & Donuts: A Mercy Mares Cozy Mystery
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I don't remember walking back to the car or if we had a conversation, but I do remember the sound of the wind blowing and the lull of conversation as we passed the nearby businesses and people walking down the street.

 

*

We rode in silence. I think Charlie understood how painful this was for me. For all the things he did that got on my nerves, there were five other things that surprised me in a good way.

 

“The circus in town?” He asked as we got closer to the hospital. Cars lined the streets. People were everywhere. I think half of them didn't even live here.

 

“What is all this?” I'd never seen so many people gathered together in one place like this.

 

A small group of people ran in front of the car. Charlie slammed on the breaks, causing the group to scream and run.

 

“What in the world is going on? Are these people trying to make me run them over?” Charlie careened the car around throngs of more people. These were holding cameras in their hands and snapping photos, one right after another.

 

“Reporters.” Charlie groaned.

 

“Oh, this is not good,” I said, eyeing the large crowd.

 

“Not at all. Let me find a place to park and let's see what all the panic is about.” Charlie drove in circles, looking for somewhere to park his rental.

 

The entrance to the hospital parking lot was blocked off by barricades and police officers. Media outlets were stationed along the perimeter of the building and what looked like hundreds of bystanders, stood around, watching the scene unfold, but we still had no clue as to what the scene was.

 

“I can't find a spot to park this.” Charlie said in frustration. “Why don't I just drop you off here? I'll go find a place to park and meet you right here, okay?”

 

“Good. I'll be right here.” I opened the door and ran across the street. My name badge was in my purse, so I didn't think I'd have any problem getting onto hospital grounds.

 

Charlie called out the window. “Don't get into any trouble, Mercy!”

 

I smiled and waved at him. “I'll try not to, but I can't guarantee it.” I muttered.

 

As I squeezed my way through the crowd, I picked up parts of their conversations, but not enough to put together what all the fuss was about.

 

I'd heard things like “serial killer”, “copycat killer”, “mafia ties”. These people really knew how to take things to an extreme.

 

A reporter stopped me, noticing my name badge that I'd clipped onto my blouse. “Ma'am, do you work here? Would you mind answering a few questions?”

 

Who was she? The one person in town that didn't know who I was?

 

I stammered. “I... I don't know anything.”

 

She didn't let that stop her from asking more questions. “Do you know the victim?”

 

“Victim? Mike?” I asked.
Was Rollie murdered too?

 

The reporter smiled. “Oh, did you know the first victim? What kind of man was he? How well did you know him?”

 

I had to get out of there. Answering questions for her was just going to make things worse for me.

 

She put the microphone in my face. My limbs went numb. Cold chills ran down my spine. This wasn't happening.

 

I don't know why and I'll probably never truly know why, but I pushed the microphone away and walked away from her, ignoring her calls to return.

 

When I reached the entrance gates, I looked at the guard's face. He sneered, then, turned around to face the other direction.

 

“Sorry, ma'am, you can't go in there.” A guard I didn't recognize stood outside the fence.

 

I showed him my badge. “I work here.”

 

“Sorry. No one in, no one out.”

 

What? Maybe he didn't hear me right.

 

“No. I said I work here. I'm a nurse.” I tried again, pulling my name tag off to show it to him.

 

“I know who you are. No one in, no one out. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the police chief.” He turned his attention to reporters that were inching their way closer to the entrance. “Back away!” He yelled.

 

“Can you at least tell me what happened?” I asked.

 

The guard huffed. “Someone killed him.”

 

*

Sweat covered Charlie's shirt as he approached me. “What part of 'wait for me right here' don't you understand? I almost got in a fight just to get this far. I've been looking for you for twenty minutes.”

 

I stood with my the back of my head leaning against a news van parked in front of the entrance to the parking lot.

 

“Rollie was murdered.” I felt hollow inside.

 

“What? How do you know that?” Charlie asked.

 

I pointed to the guard. “He told me.”

 

Running his hands through his hair, Charlie looked around at the crowd, seeming to search for someone in particular. When he spotted a camera crew, he bolted for them, leaving me standing in a state of shock.

 

“Do you know what's going on here?” He asked a stunned reporter.

 

She adjusted her blouse, assessing whether or not she deemed him appropriate enough to respond to. It only took her a few seconds of scanning his solid physique before she tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder and offered him a friendly smile. “Yes. A man has been murdered in his office. He's the administrator of this facility and a longtime resident of Pleasant Cove.”

 

I'd heard her, but didn't want to believe her. How could Rollie have been murdered? Ever since Mike's death the hospital had been the Fort Knox of facilities. No one should have been able to get past the armed guards or the near constant police presence. Once inside the building, there were no markers indicating where the administrative offices were. I assumed that was for security purposes. Cameras lined the walls. None of this made sense.

 

Charlie returned to my side. “Did you hear that?”

 

I nodded, wiping tears from my eyes. “I just don't understand how this could have happened.”

 

There was a loud clamoring of voices shouting across the street. Those that were gathered ran at full speed toward the noise. Something big was happening.

 

Standing in front of microphones was Captain Lou. At his side, stood several important looking men and women, all dressed in business attire and other police officers, each stone faced.

 

Lou spoke into the microphones, urging the crowd to quiet down so he could make his statement. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm Captain Lou Benetto.” He paused to spell his name out for reporters. “I'll not be answering questions at this time, but will give you a little of information about what has taken place at Pleasant Cove Psychiatric Hospital. One adult male was found dead in the guardhouse. He's a forty-one-year-old male. I'm sure that you've all heard stories, but I ask that you please don't jump to conclusions. As to the manner of death, I won't be speaking to that now. More information will be made available at a later time. Thank You.”

 

Why was he talking about Mike and not Rollie? What were the police trying to hide?

Chapter Twelve

“It would be no trouble at all. I just have to make a quick phone call and you're out of there. It's not safe for you there.” Ruby had called after seeing footage of Rollie's murder on one of the news agencies.

 

“No, I'm fine. I don't know how to explain it, but it just doesn't feel right to leave yet. Besides, Karen is a friend. I can't leave. I'll be careful. I swear.” I assured her.

 

Hank took the phone from Ruby. “Mercy, you really need to consider leaving. There are other jobs you could take or you could enjoy some time off, but I really don't think it'd be wise to stay there any longer.”

 

After fielding calls from Diana, Tina and Nubbin, I was already tired of trying to explain myself. Leaving now may have sounded safe on the surface, but didn't feel right on the inside. I couldn't leave without knowing what happened to Rollie and especially without removing the cloud of suspicion that had been hanging over my head. To say that the ill-timed news conference had baffled me, was an understatement. Why news crews had gathered to hear about Rollie's death, yet didn't balk when Mike's murder was discussed didn't make sense. I knew this town had its secrets, but this was beyond me.

 

“Thank you for your concern, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. Besides, I need the money, remember? Miss Gertrude is getting testy in her old age.” I joked.

 

Hank sighed. “If you're sure? You're only a couple of hours away from home. It wouldn't take long before you could be sleeping in that gigantic bed you paid a half a million dollars for.”

 

“Please. If I had that much money, I would be living on an island somewhere, eating grapes and sipping mimosas.” I joked.

 

Ruby came back on the line and tried to urge me to rethink staying, but she knew once I made a decision, that was it. Eventually, she changed her tune, giving me a speech about personal safety and being aware of what or who was around me.

 

“If anything comes up, big or small, you call me. Understood?” Ruby asked.

 

I agreed tentatively because recent history told me me that trouble seemed to follow me at every turn here in Pleasant Cove. If I called Ruby every time something went wrong, neither of us would ever get anything else accomplished in life.

 

I was hedging my bets on the fact that I'd probably survive whatever came next, but in the unlikely case that I didn't, I hoped that Ruby wouldn't have to bear witness to any of it. I loved her too much to allow that to happen.

 

It was bad enough that today's events had ruffled Charlie's feathers and he was beside himself as to how to proceed. He had a job to get back to and a life. I guess I should have been flattered that he cared enough to want to see things through with me. That didn't prevent me from me feeling guilty though. Either way I looked at it, there would be no winner in my crazy situation.

 

From my apartment, I could see the lights from the many cameras that were pointed toward the hospital. As far as I knew, poor Rollie's body had not yet been removed.

 

To think that we were standing side by side not so long ago and now I'll never see him alive again. It blew my mind. His life had been cut so short, but for what? Why would someone want to murder him? And, why are the police avoiding a discussion about it?

 

I hadn't yet reached out to Karen. Part of the reason may have been that I'd have to admit that Rollie was really dead and the other part was that I had no idea what she was thinking as far as who could have possibly done this. Who could have ruined her life so swiftly and for what reason? Nothing in life should be worth taking a life for.

 

Sleep was completely out of the question at this point. I'd called into work to see if I'd be allowed in to work my shift and I was informed that I was considered non-essential staff and it wasn't necessary that I am present. I don't know who was being allowed to work. I hadn't seen anyone from work. We hadn't known each other long enough or in any way that any of us could or would consider each other friends. We weren't even on friendly terms, so to speak. We worked on the same unit, took care of the same patients, but it wasn't like anyone was going out of their way to speak to me or even so much as look me in the eyes.

 

So, I was stuck in limbo with nothing to do but sit and think up possible scenarios as to what happened with both Mike and Rollie. I had to make sure that Rollie's murder wasn't being pinned on me. I don't know why I found that necessary, but it seemed like a pertinent thing to ascertain. I was tired of surprises. I'd agreed to work in what was supposed to be a relatively quiet paradise and instead I've found nothing but death and a possible serial killer.

 

“Figure it out, Mercy.” I put my head in my hands. The last few days felt like the longest days of my life. I swear, I could feel myself aging by the minute.

 

My cell phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I thought everyone I knew had already made contact with me.

 

I answered, “Yes, honey?”

 

“Mom, I forgot to tell you something.” Diana sounded excited.

 

“Good news, I hope. I don't know if I could handle any more bad news right now.” I wasn't kidding.

 

“Okay, promise me that you're not going to flip out.” Not the way I would have started, if I had good news to share.

 

“Honestly, honey, I can't say those words, but I'd be lying.” I knew my limitations.

 

“Okay, well, I love you.” Diana was stalling.

 

I sighed.

 

“You know how I'm always telling you that life goes on and that you should date, right?”   She asked.

 

One more stall tactic and I was going to faint.

 

“Diana, what is it? Is Barney okay?” I missed him and wouldn't recover if something ever happened to my lazy dog.

 

“I'm trying, but you're not making this easy for me.” Diana whined.

 

A few years ago, those words would have sparked a debate in which I would have grounded her and, then, felt guilty about it and bought her a new dress or something.

 

My patience had run thin, “What is it, Diana?”

 

She blurted out her words. “Dad's engaged!”

 

*

"I hope you don't mind that I just dropped by, but I didn't know what else to do." Brandi was the last person I expected to see at my door.

 

"Um, no, but I don't understand why you're here. I thought you... Well, I thought..." I couldn't find my words.

 

She waved her hand. "Oh, that. Don't worry about that. I was just having an emotional day. The kids and all, you know?"

 

I've met a whole lot of people in my life and I'd like to think that nothing surprised me, but this woman was a real piece of work. She was hot, then, she was cold and, quite frankly, I wasn't particularly fond of either one of her personalities, but because I was a kind soul (according to those who love me), I pretended not to be disturbed by this sudden turn of events.

 

"I completely understand," I said, opening my arms to offer her a condolence hug.

 

"Aren't you sweet." She said, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me like we'd been friends for a lifetime. "You just have no idea how stressful all of this has been for me. It got so bad that I even asked Lou to come by my place and watch it, so I could get some sleep. With all these murders, who knows who is out there just waiting to come after me and my children?"

 

Again, another contradiction from this woman. Didn't she say that she wasn't particularly fond of Lou, but continued working at his restaurants because she needed the job?

 

"You called Lou? He stayed at your place?" I asked.

 

She pulled up at a seat at the small dinette table in the kitchen and groaned. "Yes, I was desperate, but he didn't stay long. I forgot all about his allergies."

 

What was she talking about?

 

"Allergies?"
Come on, woman, tell me the whole story all at once, why don't you?

 

She laughed. "He's allergic to everything, I swear. We have dogs. He knows that. He could have reminded me that he's allergic to them. When I was still married, that was the only way I could keep him out of my house. He'd start sneezing and coughing like nobody's business. The coughing is what would get to me. He'd cough and, then, wouldn't be able to catch his breath and Mike would always have to save him. It was such an ordeal, but eventually, he learned and stayed out of my house. Between the two of them, I couldn't do anything. They were both coughing, sneezing, and wheezing all the time. It was madness!"

 

"Wow, sounds awful. Allergies can do horrible things to people." I don't know how many patients I'd seen who had suffered from allergies. It seemed like everyone was allergic to everything these days.

 

"Anyway, after a few minutes in my place, he finally went to sit outside in his car and watch. I guess, I can be thankful for that. I don't know anyone else who would have done that." Brandi said.

 

She was probably right. I don't know too many people that would be willing to stay up all night to guard someone's home, especially because the homeowner, or in her case, apartment owner believed that a murderer could possibly be targeting her too.

 

"Hey, do you have any water or wine?" Brandi asked, already up in search of a glass.

 

"Water or wine?" I asked, finding this woman more bizarre that I first thought.

 

"Yes, I should drink water, but I gotta tell you, a glass of wine would do a lot of good right now. Who cares what time it is, right?" I could see that she was on edge. I wondered why it was taking her so long to just get to the point already. Was this some kind of joke? I know it sounded a bit paranoid, but I didn't at all believe that she was here for just a friendly visit.

 

"I don't have any wine. Sorry. I have juice, milk, coffee - lots of coffee - and water, if you really want that instead." I offered.

 

"Okay, whatever." She handed me a glass from the cupboards and exhaled slowly. "I'm good with whatever."

 

I had to hurry this along. The suspense was killing me.

 

"Is there something that you wanted to talk to me about, Brandi?" I hoped that didn't sound rude, but she was starting to scare me.

 

Casting her eyes down on the floor, she said, "Yeah. Um, do you think the same person killed Mike and Rollie?"

 

I wasn't expecting that question. I didn't even know for sure that Rollie had been murdered. There was so much speculation and the police hadn't issued an official statement yet.

 

"Brandi, I don't know anything about that. Lou himself said that he wasn't speaking about any particulars. I'm afraid that I wouldn't be very helpful." I said.

 

"Look, here's the thing - you aren't from here. You don't see things the way everyone around here does. All I'm asking is do you think it's possible that the same person could have killed both of them?" Her tone was serious. She honestly believed I had some sort of insight.

 

"I wish I could help you, but I'm the last person anyone would give any information to." I answered.

 

She pleaded with me. "You don't understand. No one will help me figure this out. All I care about is my kids and what's rightfully theirs. You see, if there's some kind of serial killer out there, that means that whoever killed Mike wasn't trying to get at my kids' money, but if not, then, someone wanted Mike and that means me and my kids aren't safe."

 

What was she talking about? I thought Mike didn't have any money.

 

I sat down on the chair opposite her. "I'm not following. If Mike didn't get any money from his parents, why would someone kill him? Not to be rude, but wouldn't the target be your kids?"

 

"That's what I need you to figure out. Maybe someone thought he had money." She said.

 

I thought she was grasping at straws. Her theory didn't make any sense to me and I had a feeling that there were things that she wasn't telling me.

 

"Brandi, seriously, I don't think I can help you. I don't understand what the theory is that you're running with. It just doesn't make sense to me. You may be right, but I'm just not seeing the connection." I explained.

BOOK: Coughing & Donuts: A Mercy Mares Cozy Mystery
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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