Mischief in Mudbug (11 page)

“Sabine, can you hear me?”

Sabine looked across the room but didn’t see anyone. “Helena? Is that you?”

“Yeah. I’m standing next to your bed.”

Sabine turned to the side, expecting to find nothing but air, and sucked in a breath when she saw Helena, clear as day, standing next to her bed. “Holy shit! I really am dead this time.”

Helena peered down at her, her eyes hidden behind a pair of polarized sunglasses. “You can see me again?”

“Of course I can see you. For some god-awful reason, you’re dressed like John Lennon. Why wouldn’t I be able to see you? We’re both dead and apparently stuck here.”

“Uh, I hate to point out the obvious, but hospitals as a general rule do not attach heart monitors to dead people. And even if they did, I’m fairly certain dead people wouldn’t have a pulse.”

Sabine twisted around to get a good look at the monitor behind her and felt relief wash over her. Sure enough, her heart was beating. Albeit, it was probably beating a good bit faster now than it had before, but that was fixable. Dead wasn’t.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think you’ll have to wait long for an answer. In a minute, they’ll let Mildred and that hunky investigator in here.”

“Hunky investigator? What’s he still doing here?” She shook her head. “Never mind that. Have you been here the whole time? Have the doctors said anything?”

“Yeah, they’ve said plenty, but not a damn thing I understood. They’re moving you to a room, though, so I guess that’s good news. I’m really glad, Sabine. I know I am a real annoyance to you and Maryse, but I don’t want to see anything bad happen to either of you.” She sighed. “Sometimes, I wish—”

Before Helena could finish her sentence, the door burst open. Mildred went straight to Sabine’s side, walking through Helena, and clutched Sabine’s hand in her own. “My God, Sabine, you’ve scared the life right out of me.” Beau was right behind her.

Sabine squeezed Mildred’s hand and watched as Helena strolled through the hospital wall. “Looks like I came closer to scaring it out of myself. What happened? Have you talked to the doctor?”

Mildred shook her head. “They’re coming in a minute, but I insisted on seeing you now.”

Sabine smiled. “I bet you did. Maryse?”

“I got her voice mail, but I left a message.”

“I thought you’d be halfway back to New Orleans by now,” Sabine said to Beau.

“You didn’t tell her you were staying in the hotel?” Mildred asked.

“You’re staying at the hotel?” Sabine repeated. “Since when?”

Beau paused for a moment before answering. “I checked in three days ago.”

Sabine frowned at Mildred. “You knew this and didn’t tell me?”

Mildred raised her hands in protest. “I didn’t know who he was until tonight. Darn near ran me over getting to your apartment when he heard the sirens. You know I wouldn’t keep something like that from you, Sabine.” Mildred shot a dirty look at Beau. “You didn’t tell me you were lying to her.”

“I wasn’t lying, exactly.” He stepped next to the bed and looked down at Sabine. “That break-in at your place worried me. I just didn’t like the sound of it, but then I’ve been accused of being paranoid, so I didn’t want to get you riled up in case it turned out to be nothing.”

“So you thought you’d spy on me for a couple of days, then let me know if you thought I was in danger…something I might have needed to know before tonight. Where the hell is that doctor?” Sabine flashed an angry glance at the door to her room, agitated that they were keeping her waiting.

Beau ran one hand through his hair. “I swear, Sabine. If I’d thought…I didn’t know…”

“Stop,” Sabine said. “I’ll decide how I feel about all this after I find out what happened to me. For all we know, this might be nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mildred said. “You were unconscious. It’s a miracle you dialed 911 before you passed out. That can’t be nothing.”

“She’s right,” a voice sounded from the doorway.

They all turned to look at the young doctor who had entered the room. “I’m Dr. Mitchell. I just started here last week. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you all, but I’m certain we’d all rather it be under different circumstances.” He smiled at Sabine. “You are one lucky lady. The paramedics are amazed you managed to dial for help given the state you were in when they arrived. And since I’m assuming none of us would like a repeat performance, we’re going to have to rethink your dinner choices.”

Sabine stared at the doctor. “What are you talking about? I had a roast beef sandwich, same as yesterday.”

The doctor studied her. “Any dessert? Cookies, perhaps? A brownie?”

“I took a glass of wine and some sugar cookies to bed.”

“We had cookies at the Fortescues’, too,” Beau reminded her.

“
You
had cookies. I moved two of mine onto your plate so no one would think I was being rude when I didn’t eat them.”

Beau gave her a surprised look. “I didn’t even notice.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “Some detective.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re certain. You’ve had nothing else to eat or drink since lunch but your sugar cookies and wine?”

“Of course I’m certain. What is this about? You’re starting to worry me.”

“You had an allergic reaction,” the doctor replied. “The kind of reaction that can kill people.”

“Peanuts? You’re saying peanuts caused this?” She shook her head. “I know I’m allergic to peanuts—have
known forever and I promise you I avoid them like the plague. Why do you think I didn’t eat the cookies when they were served? I don’t take any chances. There is no way I ate a peanut, not even accidentally. I cooked the roast beef myself yesterday and have eaten three meals from it now. The bottle of wine was brand new. I opened it last night.”

“And the cookies?” the doctor asked.

“I made them,” Mildred said. “A couple of days ago, and I assure you they didn’t contain peanut oil. I’m allergic to peanuts myself and I’ve been eating those cookies ever since I baked them.”

Sabine stared at the doctor. “You must be mistaken.”

“I was with her from midafternoon until last night through supper,” Beau added. “She only had the roast beef and a bottled water for supper.”

“And the wine,” the doctor asked Beau. “Did you drink any as well?”

“No,” Beau said and looked a little embarrassed. “I left before Ms. LeVeche retired for the night.”

“Where did you get the wine, Ms. LeVeche, and is it a brand you drink regularly?”

“Yes, it’s my favorite zinfandel, and Mildred gave it to me day before yesterday. Mildred, Maryse, and I like the same brand, but it’s not sold here in Mudbug, so anyone who’s going to New Orleans usually picks up a bottle or two when they’re there.”

The doctor turned to Mildred. “Do you remember where you bought the wine?”

Mildred nodded. “Sure. At Bayou Beverages just on the highway before you get to the city. Why? Is that important?”

“It could be if someone else reports a problem.” The doctor made a note in his file. “Who else knows about your allergy?”

“Everyone,” Sabine replied. “Everyone in Mudbug, anyway. The restaurants are very careful with my food preparation and no one ever brings me Christmas goodies with nuts. I figured keeping something like that a secret was bound to be trouble.”

Dr. Mitchell nodded. “And usually it is, but I wonder if this time it didn’t work against you.”

Sabine felt a wave of cold wash over her. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but she was certain she wasn’t going to like it. “Surely, you’re wrong, Dr. Mitchell,” Sabine said, trying to clutch onto a reasonable explanation. “Maybe something else…a spider bite or something simple like an anxiety attack?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m not mistaken. The symptoms are textbook and the tests showed peanut oil in your stomach.” He looked at Beau and Mildred, then back at Sabine, obviously nervous. “Ms. LeVeche, I don’t know how to say this any other way, but since you and your friend are certain of your dietary intake, I think you need to contact the police. They’re going to want to search your apartment and test that bottle of wine and the food.”

Sabine stared at the doctor in shock. “The police? Test my food?”

The doctor nodded. “There is a chance the wine was somehow tainted before the sale, but I honestly can’t imagine peanut oil being any part of the process for wine-making, so it’s a real long shot. And you need to start considering who might have the access and the desire to do something like this. Any new business as
sociates, friends, a slighted customer…the police are going to want to know.”

Sabine tried to answer, but her voice caught in her throat. The only new things in her life were Beau and her family. Surely Beau had no reason at all to harm her; in fact, he’d been trying to tell her that digging up the past might not be a good idea. But her family? They barely knew her, so it was highly unlikely they knew about her allergies. Besides, she wasn’t asking them for anything and didn’t want anything, except to gain a better knowledge of her parents. Hell, Catherine had been the one suggesting the Fortescues fund a new business for Sabine that was apparently more “worthy” of the grand family name.

Sabine took a drink of water and tried to keep her hand from shaking. “I…I don’t really know what to say.”

“The doctor’s right,” Beau said. “If you ingested peanuts, it probably wasn’t an accident. I’ll call the police and get them over to your apartment and have them send someone here to get all the information from you. Tell them to talk to me afterward. I can provide all the details on the new people in your life.”

Sabine shook her head. “I’m not about to let the police tromp around my apartment, digging through my drawers, taking inventory of my stuff. And not for nothing, but the Mudbug police still haven’t come up with anything on the break-in or the lurker I kicked. I seriously doubt they’d have any idea what to do about a poisoning.” Especially since the small matter of Helena Henry’s poisoning had seemed to fly right past both the police and the doctors. Sabine’s odds did not look good with the “experts” of Mudbug on the case.

“Now, Sabine,” Mildred said, “I think you ought to listen to the doctor, and to Beau.”

“Fine,” Sabine said. “If the hospital will release me, I’ll take care of everything with the police.”

Dr. Mitchell shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. LeVeche, but I can’t do that. We really need to monitor you overnight to ensure nothing else is wrong. I’m not trying to scare you, but you had a major attack. Quite frankly, you’re lucky to be alive. If the paramedics had been just a couple of minutes later…”

“I’ll contact the police and meet them at your apartment,” Beau offered. “I’ll oversee everything. Make sure they do a thorough job. I have connections in New Orleans. I’ll make sure anything that needs to be tested is sent to a lab there.”

Sabine sighed, feeling her independence slipping away.

Beau held one hand up. “I promise I won’t go through your panty drawer.”

Mildred shook her head. “She doesn’t have a panty drawer. What her and Maryse have against covering their rear, I simply don’t know.”

Sabine groaned and pulled the sheet up over her head, but not before seeing the embarrassment on the doctor’s face and the grin on Beau’s. “Get out of here, all of you, before I just go ahead and die to escape it all.” It was bad enough that all the medical personnel of Mudbug General already had a good idea of her feelings about undergarments.

She heard Beau laugh and Mildred said, “I’ll go with Beau and let them into your apartment. I’ll be back as soon as we’re done with the police. Don’t worry about a thing. You just work on getting better.”

Sabine waited until she heard the door close, then pulled the sheet down and thought over everything that had happened that day. “What the hell is going on?” she asked out loud.

“I don’t know,” Helena answered, making her jump.

“Jesus,” Sabine said, sucking in a breath. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Can you still see me?”

Sabine nodded. “The John Lennon thing still isn’t working for me. Why did you come back?”

“I thought maybe someone ought to keep an eye on you and since the others all left…”

“What could possibly happen in the hospital?”

“Hmmmm, well, although I started to feel weird after I drank that brandy, technically, I was in the hospital when I died,” Helena said.

Sabine stared at the wall. “Shit.”

“But having an overnight stay here does give us all sorts of other possibilities.”

“Like what?” Sabine didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“Oh, I was thinking that taking a peek at the medical records of the Fortescues might be a good idea. Obviously someone’s out of their damned mind because I can’t think of anyone else who’d want to kill you. Maybe if we read their medical records, we can see if there’s any history of mental illness.”

“Oh, no. Maryse already did that breaking-and-entering medical-records search with you and it wasn’t exactly an overwhelming success.”

“Yeah, but this time there’s no breaking or entering. That’s over half the battle. Besides, don’t tell me you’re not just a little interested in getting a peek at those re
cords. You’re still looking for a match, right? You might just get two possible answers with one small, unobtrusive trip down the hall.”

Sabine bit her lower lip. Any other time, she would never, ever agree with what Helena was saying, but the ghost did have a point. If someone had tried to poison her, the medical records might indeed give her the clue she needed to identify who it was. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to look for their blood types while she was at it. A matching blood type didn’t mean a bone marrow match, but it was a good start.

Shit.

“Okay,” she said before she could change her mind. “We’ll do this tonight.”

“If you don’t want to risk it, I understand. I can get the files myself and bring them to you.”

“Oh, no! I am not going to have a repeat of the New Orleans police department on my hands. There aren’t any hotdog stands in the hospital to cover up your exit, and hospital carts do not move themselves down the hallways, especially on level ground.”