Grace Sees Red (16 page)

Before they left, I pulled Lily aside and put in a quick request. She nodded, then joined Rodriguez and Flynn as they escorted Frances away. The moment they were gone, I picked up the office phone.

“Are you calling Mr. Tooney?” Bennett asked.

I nodded. “I need to bring him up to date.”

Our favorite investigator picked up immediately. We spoke briefly. After securing his promise to double down on his investigative efforts, I pulled out my cell phone and searched my contacts.

Bennett, who had paced Frances's office while Tooney and I talked, stopped to regard me quizzically. “Who are you calling now?”

“Dr. Bradley. Emberstowne's coroner. I spoke with him earlier.” I explained that Rodriguez had put us in touch and told him about the coroner's gracious offer to help.

“Is that why you asked Lily to get you a copy of the autopsy?” Bennett asked. “Do you think this Dr. Bradley can find something Rosette's coroner missed?”

“I have no idea, but the sooner he has all the information,
the better our chances.” The phone number I'd dialed earlier went straight to voice mail. I remembered him saying that his office was closed today and that no new bodies had shown up at the morgue this morning.

Biting my lip and hoping I wasn't intruding too terribly on his personal time, I dialed his cell. When he still hadn't answered after the third ring, I curbed my disappointment and waited for the tone, resigning to leaving a message.

A second later, he surprised me by picking up. “Hello?” he asked with far more discomposure than I would have expected. “Hello? Grace? Are you there?”

The low-level shushing sound in the background after the delayed pickup made me wonder if he was busy in a lab somewhere and I'd interrupted his work.

“Yes, I'm sorry. Did I call at a bad time?”

“No.” He chuckled. “I'm driving a new car this morning and you're my first call on this hands-free setup. The controls are placed differently and I got confused. Took me way too long to figure out the right button to answer.” He waited a beat before asking, “What's up?”

In a rush, I told him about Frances's arrest and how she'd asked me to go back to Indwell to dig for more information. “I've asked her lawyer, Lily Holland, to get a copy of Gus's autopsy report to you as soon as possible. She needs your e-mail or a fax number. I wanted to call you to give you a heads-up.”

Bennett stepped close to whisper. “Let me do something to help. If Lily sends the report here, I can bring a copy to him.”

I nodded.

Joe's jovial tone shifted to one of deep concern. “That's not a problem. Do you have Lily Holland's number handy? I'll get in touch with her immediately.”

“Just a second,” I said. “I'll get it for you.”

As I brought the phone forward to search for the lawyer's number in my contacts, Joe's voice rose. “Hold on before you do that,” he called. “Grace?”

Clapping the device back to my ear, I said, “Yes?”

“Let me pull over. I haven't figured out a hands-free way to record information yet. I'm about a mile from the exit. I'll call you right back.”

When we hung up, Bennett asked me if I'd like him to accompany me to Indwell.

A sudden realization hit. “Randall Cummings,” I said. “I'd forgotten all about him.”

Bennett clapped a hand to his forehead. “The poor man is probably still waiting for me in the break room.”

“Why don't you work with Randall?” I asked. “I'll manage Indwell on my own.”

Bennett's expression told me he was torn. “Are you sure?”

As much as I would have appreciated being able to discuss things on the ride out, I nodded. “I'll be fine. You go ahead.”

He gave a terse smile. “I'll collect any documents he needs you to sign. We can go over them later.”

“Thanks, Bennett.”

We locked eyes for a long moment, reading each other's mind. “Poor Frances,” I finally said.

“Indeed.”

When my cell phone rang, Bennett left.

Joe didn't waste time with niceties when I answered. As soon as he took down Lily Holland's number he asked, “How soon are you taking off for Rosette?”

“I'm leaving now.”

“I can swing by and pick you up. We can get a hard copy of the report from Lily at the police department while we're out there.”

“But . . . it's all the way out in Rosette.” Taken aback by the offer, I stumbled over my words. “That is, I'd love to get a copy of the autopsy report, but I hadn't planned on stopping by the police department. I'm going directly to Indwell, the assisted-living facility.”

“What do you plan to do there?”

“I don't know exactly,” I said honestly. “I guess I planned to ask more questions, poke around a bit more. See if anything new comes to light.”

“Before I called you back, Detective Rodriguez called me. Fortunately, this time, I was quicker to answer. In any case, he suggested I go out there with you.”

“He did?”

“I know I'm new to Emberstowne, but Detective Rodriguez and his partner have told me a lot about you—and Frances, of course—and all your past investigations. I'm happy to offer assistance.”

“That's very kind, but—”

“I know it will come as no surprise that Detective Rodriguez is concerned for both of you. This one hits close to home. His hands are tied because Rosette is out of his jurisdiction.”

“He said all that?”

“He did. He thinks that having an Emberstowne official on hand—even if it's just a coroner—could prove helpful.” When I was slow to respond, he added, “Unless you think I'm overstepping.”

“No, of course not,” I said automatically. “But what about an emergency? What if you get called back? Should we drive separately?”

“That's the benefit of being part of a medical group and not on my own. One of my partners is on call today and will handle any emergencies that arise. If, for some reason, she needs to reach me, she has my cell.”

“Then, yes, absolutely.” I gave him directions to meet me in the guard's lot just inside the front gates. “How soon can you be here?” I asked.

“I'm not far. I'll be there in five.”

*   *   *

The last time I'd seen Joe Bradley—in fact, the only time I'd seen Joe Bradley—had been several months ago in my snow-covered yard. Back then, he'd been wearing a knit cap and a heavy jacket. Although he'd seemed personable enough, his reason for being on my property was to examine a murder victim, and we'd spent no more than thirty seconds getting acquainted. I wondered if I'd even recognize him.

As soon as the shuttle driver dropped me off about a hundred feet inside the main gate, I started across the short garden walkway to the guard's lot, scanning the area for the silver sedan he'd described. Just as I spotted the car, it began to drizzle. Frances had been right to grab an umbrella, I thought. Too bad the police had made her leave it behind.

By the time Joe got out of the car and met me halfway, the drops were coming down heavier and faster.

We shook hands quickly in the middle of the tiny parking lot before hurrying back to his car. He was as tall as I remembered with wavy hair and eyes that crinkled into slits when he smiled. He walked with a slight limp and had a five o'clock shadow even though it was still before noon. One corner of his mouth curled up higher than the other, and his nose was a tiny bit big. But his eyes were bright, his smile warm. It surprised me to realize I felt immediately at ease.

“I'd say it's nice to see you again, Grace,” he said, “but both times we've met it's been under less than desirable circumstances.”

“Then let's hope we're able to put an end to these meetings,” I said. “I truly appreciate your offer to come with me. I'm just not sure what you or I will be able to do for Frances.”

“Maybe nothing,” he agreed. “But it certainly can't hurt to try.”

When we were both safely in the car, the rain began coming down in handfuls. “Wow. Perfect timing,” I said.

Frowning, he pulled out of the lot and turned on his lights and wipers. “Let's hope it passes over us soon.” He turned to me. “Seat belt?”

I was already buckling myself in. “Got it.” I inhaled deeply. “New-car smell. Gotta love it.”

“Yeah.” He gave a quick sniff. “You're right.”

As we cleared Marshfield's front gate, I said, “I noticed you've ditched your cane.”

“Good memory.” His eyes clouded. “But the cane's in the backseat. I'm in the process of weaning myself.”

I was tempted to ask about the injury he'd alluded to
during our first meeting but decided against it. If he wanted me to know, he'd tell me.

“Do you need directions to Indwell?”

He shook his head. “I've been out there a number of times to visit patients.”

“I didn't realize your practice reached out that far.”

Even though he smiled, he looked sad. “It doesn't. I used to live in a small town a little northeast of Rosette. I keep in contact with some of my patients there. You develop a relationship with people, you know? You see the same patients for years, you get to know them and their families.” He shrugged. “Can't give that up.”

“I'm surprised you moved to Emberstowne, then. Why the change?” I asked.

“Long story. Ask me again sometime.”

“Fair enough,” I said, and turned my thoughts to Frances. I hoped she was holding up. Although Lily Holland seemed to be a formidable advocate, Frances must be panicked right now.

We rode for a few minutes in silence. Joe was a steady driver, assertive though not aggressive.

“Should we start by picking up the report at the police station?” I asked. “Or would you rather we do that on the way back?”

“I spoke with Frances's attorney,” he said. “She'll let me know when it's ready. Today sometime, for sure.”

“That's good.”

He made a so-so motion with his head.

“What aren't you telling me?” I asked.

“Nothing really,” he said. “It's just a sense. She sounded very frustrated.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I'm sorry,” Joe said.

“Not your fault,” I replied without looking up.

He didn't say anything for a little bit. When he did, it was to ask me to tell him more about Frances. “What's she like?” he asked. “I've never met her in person, but Detective Rodriguez seems to hold her in high regard.”

“How to explain Frances?” I asked rhetorically. “She's worked at Marshfield for at least forty years. When I started working there—a little more than three years ago—she made it clear that she didn't like me even a little bit.”

“You're kidding me,” Joe said with a start. “From the way Detective Rodriguez describes the two of you, I assumed you were best friends.”

Despite myself, I laughed. “Frances would cringe to hear you say that.”

“I can't imagine anyone but a close friend doing as much as you are to help her.”

“No, you misunderstand. She and I are friends; she simply doesn't like to acknowledge the fact.”

“Why not?”

“It's impossible to explain until you meet her. No, that's not accurate, either. She's impossible to understand until you really get to know her. I think that when I started at Marshfield she saw me as a threat and worried I'd usurp her position there.”

“You have,” he said. “In the most profound way possible.”

“That's true. But even before the world knew I was a Marshfield by blood, she'd begun to warm up a little. She likes to have her efforts appreciated.”

“I take it you do,” he said. “Appreciate her, that is.”

“It's impossible not to.” Now that I was putting my relationship with Frances into actual words, they came easily. “In truth, she's amazing. I've never met anyone so driven and determined. And yet, everything she's ever done—everything I'm aware of, at least—has been for someone else. She's tirelessly loyal to Bennett and has become increasingly protective of me. And now with this situation at Indwell, caring for an ex-husband who left her for another woman—” I frowned out the windshield. “Makes me wonder if she ever does anything for herself.”

Joe remained silent as I gave myself a moment to digest what I'd just said.

“All she wants,” I finally finished, “is to be valued.”

Joe shot me a quick glance. “Isn't that what we all want?”

I smiled. “The thing is, even though I've known her for more than three years, I don't know much about her personally. Until this murder investigation blew up and Bennett and I were called to Indwell, we had no idea where Frances went every weekend.”

“She works five days a week at Marshfield then spends every weekend at Indwell?”