Obsession (Southern Comfort) (32 page)

“I don’t know what just went down, but given the fact that
your girlfriend just peeled out of here like the proverbial bat leaving Hell, I figured you could use a beer.”

Justin accepted the bottle from his brother’s outstretched hand.

“You know.”  He twisted the top off.  “I really could.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

KATHLEEN
kept her expression blank as she looked into the red, puffy eyes of the women who considered themselves Mandy’s best friends.  The antacids she’d chewed earlier left a chalky taste in her mouth, but hadn’t seemed to do anything to settle her churning stomach.  The air in the nurses’ lounge seemed clammy, creating a medicinally-scented film on her skin.

Or maybe she was just sweating.

Frustrated with herself, she took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.  Mac had taken the lead, thank God, but that didn’t mean she could zone out.  She had to keep her head in the game.

Especially given the fact that her actions would be scrutinized like something under a microscope due to her relationship with Justin.

Luckily, these two women didn’t seem aware of that relationship.  Maybe Mandy had never mentioned her friendship with Justin to her friends, or maybe they simply hadn’t put two and two together. Either way, Kathleen was determined to act as professionally as possible during this investigation so that no questions could be raised after the fact.

“So, Thursday night,” Mac was saying.  “You were at
Dockside Bar and Grill with Ms. Hotchkiss until approximately ten p.m.”

“That’s right,” the woman named Julie said, dabbing at her running mascara.  “We
ate dinner, had a few drinks, trash talked.  You know.  A typical girls’ night out.”

“
There were gift bags in Ms. Hotchkiss’s trash.  Do you know anything about that?”

“Sure.  We had a little party. At the bar, I mean.”

“So, not quite a
typical
girls’ night out.”

Julie stiffened.  “I guess.”

“Was it Ms. Hotchkiss’s birthday?”

“No, nothing like that,” the woman named
Cynthia answered.  Her eyes were dry, but her short brown hair stood up in spikes where she’d been tunneling her fingers through it.  “Mandy had been… having a rough time lately.  Personally.  We just wanted to cheer her up.”

“But she wasn’t
depressed,”
Julie added, shooting a censorious look at her friend.  “She was just frustrated, you know? And really, more angry than anything. There’s no way she killed herself,” the woman insisted.  “No way.  She didn’t exhibit any of the signs.”

“Did she talk about being angry?”

“I’m sorry, but… duh,” Cynthia answered.  “I’m sure you know that one of the doctors here was leveling false allegations of stalking against her.  She’d been questioned by the police multiple times. Of course she was angry, and of course she talked to us about it.  We’re her friends.”

“How was she dealing with that anger?” Kathleen asked, ignoring Mac’s frown.

The woman shifted her hazel eyes toward Kathleen, her gaze assessing.  “The usual ways.  She talked to us.  She worked.  Ate chocolate.  Drank wine.  I convinced her to consult an attorney, and she filed a complaint with the hospital administration.”

Pushing aside the fact that it was Justin against whom that complaint had been filed
, Kathleen continued the line of questioning.

Chocolate and wine.  Both had been found in Mandy’s apartment, and in her stomach.  But that wasn’t all the ME had found in her blood. 

“You’re right about the fact that many people resort to various stimulants or mind-altering substances during times of emotional stress.  Maybe the chocolate, the wine weren’t enough for her any more.  Maybe she tried something a little… stronger.”

“No.” Julie was shaking her head even as Cynthia said: “You mean drugs.  Absolutely not.”

“Xanax is perfectly legal,” Mac pointed out. “As a nurse, she would have access.”

“And as a nurse, she knew better
than to mix it with alcohol.  No.” Cynthia shook her head again.  “There’s no way.”

“We found a
n unlabeled bottle of Xanax – mostly empty – in her medicine cabinet,” Kathleen told them.  But what they hadn’t found was a prescription.  Or – and this was one of those loose threads that had pushed her and Mac to continue with the investigation – any evidence that the drugs had been stolen from the hospital.  Their security protocols were pretty damn tight.  But the meds had to have come from somewhere.  Which was one of the reasons they were interviewing her friends.

“Any idea where she could have obtained it?”       

“No.” Cynthia sat back in her chair, a look of shock on her face.  “That’s… impossible.”

“Impossible?”

“Look, I don’t care how it looks, but Mandy wouldn’t risk her career like that.  By buying meds on the black market, or stealing them, or whatever it is you’re implying.  If she’d thought she’d needed them, she would have talked to one of the doctors.  But she didn’t need them.  Like Julie said, she wasn’t
anxious
or
depressed. 
She was
pissed
.  If anything, she was looking forward to more retaliation, not blubbering around all bummed out and definitely not suicidal over some jerk.”

Kathleen sat up straighter
.  “More
retaliation?”

Julie closed her eyes, and a deep red flush crept up Cynthia’s face.  “The, uh, complaint.  Against Doctor Wellington.  That’s what I was talking about.”

Her bullshit meter was pretty much pinned, but Mac cleared his throat, preventing her from pursuing that further. 

“The gift bags,” he said.  “There were three, but only two tags.  One from each of you,” he added.  “Who else was with you that night?”

The two women looked at each other, their confusion apparent.  “No one,” Julie answered.  “It was just us three.  I got Mandy a box of chocolates, and Cynthia got her the book she’d been wanting so that she could read it while she was off.  I have no idea where the other bag came from.”

Kathleen frowned.  It was that bag in which they were particularly interested.  It was the size and shape to hold a bottle of wine, and they’d found
the Xanax mixed with the remains of the wine in the bottle that had been sitting on Mandy’s kitchen table.  If the wine had been a gift, and she’d mixed the Xanax into it, there’s a chance that the drugs had come from the same source as the alcohol.  Whether or not Mandy had mixed the cocktail herself, and whether or not she intended it to be a fatal dose, remained in question.

Of particular interest was the fact that no prints other than Mandy’s had been found on the wine bottle
or
the gift bag.  Perhaps Mandy had purchased it as a little present for herself, but they hadn’t been able to find any evidence of that.

“Who else was she close to?” Mac asked.  “Do you know anyone who could have surpr
ised her at her apartment later that night? Someone who knew about the ‘party,’ maybe wanted to contribute but hadn’t been invited?”

The women looked at each other again, then shook their heads.  “Nobody I can think of,” Cynthia said.  “Her family lives out west, mostly, and she doesn’t really hang out with anyone else.  When she wasn’t working, she was with us, or up until a few months ago with Justin Wellington.”
A look of disgust crossed her face.  “I would suggest that maybe he had a change of heart and brought Mandy a little token to make up for all of the damage he’s done, but I don’t think he has a heart.”

“He’s already cozied up with someone,” Julie added bitterly.  “She was hanging all over him at the coffee shop the other day.”

Kathleen’s brows slammed together. 

“Coffee shop?”
Mac inserted, because Kathleen’s tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“It’s nothing,” Cynthia said, shooting another look at her friend.
  “We… bumped into him at The Grind a few days ago.  Some brunette was draped across his neck like an accessory.”

When she opened her mouth, closed it, Mac cleared his throat again.  “I think that’s all the questions we have for today.  Thanks for your help.”

Kathleen murmured something that she hoped was appropriate and then followed Mac out the door.

They walked in silence as they headed toward the elevator, where Kathleen pushed the call button.

“I wouldn’t put much stock in those two’s take on that particular encounter,” Mac murmured.

Kathleen’s tone was remarkably even considering t
he fact that the gears in her brain were grinding together.  “What makes you think I would?”

“Well.  It could have something to do with the fact that you look like someone shoved a steel rod up your butt.”

Kathleen narrowed her eyes.  Mac raised his brows.

“Just sayin.’”

“How about if you just say nothing for the next little while?”

Mac considered.  “I can do that.”

“Good.”

When he started whistling, Kathleen
bared her teeth. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Mac protested.

“Yes, you did.  You just didn’t use words to say it.”

The elevator doors opened, and Mac chuckled as he followed her into the car.

JAMES
Wellington nursed his third beer as he sat at the end of the bar in Murphy’s.  He’d been here for a while, checking things out and gauging the situation, and he didn’t want to drink to the point that he wasn’t able to drive back home.

Well, to Justin’s.  Which was home for the time being.  And would be, James considered, until he’d figured out just what the hell was going on. 

Justin probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that his ‘baby’ brother felt the need to protect him, but at this point, James didn’t much care.  Justin – while smart as hell, physically imposing and not anybody’s fool – was also unfailingly ethical.  He was fair. Diplomatic.  He was the cool voice of reason among five brothers who tended to be hotheads, and occasionally ruthless in getting their way.

And in a situation where someone was screwing with you to this degree, James didn’t think that diplomacy was going to cut it.

He couldn’t ask Kathleen what she thought,
for various reasons.  Also, she’d made it clear to Justin that she’d be incommunicado with their household for the next little while, so even if he thought she would give him a straight and unbiased answer, apparently he couldn’t ask her. 

James found that annoyingly by-the-book at first, but then he considered the fact that if Kathleen wanted to have Justin’s back, she had to make damn sure she wasn’
t kicked off the investigation into Mandy’s apparent suicide.  And he was fairly certain that Kathleen indeed wanted to have Justin’s back. 

And his front.  And all of the other parts in between. 

He’d watched his three oldest brothers, not to mention a number of his friends, tumble headlong into love, and he recognized the signs.  Both Justin and his hot cop were goners. 

So, being the quick judge of character that he was, James had ferreted out the Murphy most likely to be… open to helping him.

That Murphy appeared before him, a bar towel slung over his shoulder, a calculating look on his goateed face.

“You want a nipple?”

James studied Declan Murphy, then smiled.  “Only if it comes attached to a breast.  And from where I’m sitting, you’re sorely lacking in that particular area.”

“The way you’ve been checking me out tonight, I guess you’d know.”  He whipped the towel off his shoulder, polished a spot on the bar.  “If I thought you were coming on to me, I’d have to deck you.  But since I don’t think you’re gay, I figure you’re sizing me up for something.  Why don’t you just get it off your chest before I change my mind and deck you anyway.”

His smile turned into a grin.  He’d definitely chosen the right Murphy.  “What do you think about your sister’s ex?”

Declan looked confused.  “Who?  Corelli?”

James nodded. 

“I don’t.”

He sighed.  “You know what I mean.  Look, I’m new here, and I don’t have the benefit of previous observation to help me form opinions. You’ve been here forever, and unless I’ve missed my guess, you form opinions at the drop of a hat.  And while they may not be complimentary, I think they’re probably pretty accurate.  You don’t give a shit about diplomacy, so you don’t strain your observations through the cheesecloth of…let’s call it
the benefit of the doubt.”

That had one corner of the man’s mouth kicking up.  “So what you’re saying is that you think I’m an opinionated asshole.”

“Pretty much.”

It was Murphy’s turn to grin.  “You’re not nearly as hopeless as your brother.”

“I would object to your classification of my beloved sibling, but since I think I know what caused you to form that opinion, in this case I’ll let it slide.”

Declan shook his head in disgust.  “Three years of mooning is pitiful to watch.”  Then his eyes, as shrewd as they were blue, narrowed. 
“Since it would seem from recent
observations
that your brother finally got off the stick, I’m assuming you’re not here to ask me to put in a good word with Kathleen.  Why are you asking about Corelli?”