She was Dying Anyway

by P. D. Workman

  “Was that normal?”

  “Cancer can be painful.”

  “But for Robin. Had she been in a lot of pain before that?”

  “For a few days.”

  “But not before that?”

  “No. Before, she was still pretty good. She had energy and able to get around. But then she got pain in her joints and her stomach and chest. She was afraid it was the cancer spreading. I guess it must have been.”

  “We’ll find that out in the autopsy. After she had the pain meds, she slept okay? Did she talk to you at all?”

  “She didn’t talk to me.”

  “Not at all? It would be strange to be in the same room as someone and never to have any conversation.”

  “I was not her friend. She was only here for treatment, not to make friends.”

  “But she was friends with Bridget,” Zachary pointed out.

  “I guess… she only needed one friend, then,” Chenka said, shrugging. “She had plenty of family. They came to see her all the time. And that boyfriend of hers. Lawrence.”

  “But she broke up with him.”

  Chenka looked at Zachary sideways. “What makes you think that?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? That she dumped him on Wednesday night, after their big date?”

  Chenka shook her head adamantly. “She never told me that.”

  “She told Lawrence. Was that before they came back? I thought it was after the date, when they were back here.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t listen to other people’s conversations.”

  Like with Lawrence, Zachary knew Chenka was lying. Of course she had listened to their conversation. Of course she knew what had happened. Two people couldn’t have a conversation like that in a hospital room without someone on the other side of the curtain hearing. Zachary considered. Was she trying to protect Lawrence? Or to protect Robin’s reputation? Which one of them was she concerned about?

  “Who came to see Robin on Thursday? The nurse said that she had a number of visitors, though none of them stayed very long.”

  “She was too tired for them. So everyone just said hello and then left again.”

  “Lawrence came by. Did he think he was going to be able to talk her into getting back together? Did he think she’d only been joking the night before and would have changed her mind?”

  “How do I know what Lawrence was thinking?” Chenka scoffed. But her next words belied the assertion. “Lawrence was a nice man. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. He wasn’t going to abandon her just because she had broken up with him.”

  “She wouldn’t exactly want him to visit, though, would she? She must have told him they weren’t a couple anymore and he should leave.” Zachary didn’t have to imagine what Bridget would have said to him in similar circumstances. He’d lived it. Zachary had been afraid she was just trying to spare him the horrors of cancer and the treatments. He had vowed to stand by her anyway, to be there as her friend even if she was breaking up their marriage. He had been in denial about just how bitter she was toward him.

  Chenka shrugged. “She said she did not want him there.”

  “Did Lawrence have the opportunity to put anything in her IV?”

  “The curtain was pulled across. I could not see.”

  “What do you think? Was there time? Could he have done it without Robin seeing him? Was she asleep when he got there?”

  “Lawrence would not have hurt her. He was a nice guy.”

  “Even a nice guy can be pushed over the edge when he is treated unfairly.”

  “He did not do anything to her. He wasn’t here for long enough.”

  Zachary nodded slowly, wondering if it were true. Even if Chenka were telling him the truth, would she have been able to judge if Lawrence had the opportunity to put something in Robin’s IV? How long would it have taken? Had Robin been awake or asleep when he arrived? If Robin had been given something Thursday, it wasn’t something fast-acting. Any fast-acting drug would have to have been administered by someone at the hospital during the night or early morning.

  “Who else was here?” he asked. “Were her other visitors here before or after Lawrence?”

  “After. He came during the day. Her family didn’t come until late afternoon, when school and work were out.”

  “Her mother and her sister?”

  “And that poor boy.”

  “Her nephew, Rhys?”

  Chenka nodded. “Rhys. Yes. Gloria’s son.”

  “Why do you call him a poor boy?”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “Because of what happened to him.” When Zachary continued to look at her blankly, she went on to explain. “His grandfather’s murder.”

  “Murder?” Zachary couldn’t pick his jaw up off the floor. “Vera’s husband was murdered?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her eyes were wide. “You didn’t know that?”

  “Nobody happened to mention it. Did this happen recently?” Even as he asked it, Zachary was running through what he knew about Vera and her family from talking to Vera. Her husband hadn’t died recently, but years before. And Rhys had never been the same.

  “No, when Rhys was a little boy. You don’t know anything about it?”

  “No. What exactly did he die of? What did it have to do with Rhys, other than that they were close?”

  “I don’t know all of the details,” Chenka lowered her voice as if someone might overhear them. “It was a violent death. Shot or stabbed. Rhys was there. He and his grandfather were home alone.”

  “Did he see it, then? He knew who did it?”

  “They think so.”

  Zachary cocked his head, puzzled, waiting for more.

  “That’s when they lost Rhys.” Even in the quiet of the hospital room, Chenka’s words were difficult to make out. He leaned forward to hear better and communicate to her that he was engaged. He wanted to hear more. “The boy was never the same after that. He wouldn’t talk. He was sent away for a while, to some institution.”

  “I didn’t know that. So he probably saw, but he could never tell what happened?”

  Chenka nodded. “Exactly. He withdrew completely. Like a nervous breakdown. He came back to live with his grandma again after a while, but they couldn’t ask him about what had happened without setting him off again, so they had to let it go.”

  “And he’s never talked about it since?”

  “He’s never talked since.”

  “Oh. Wow.” So Vera was right. He was special.

  “And now this,” Chenka said. “It was bad enough that his aunt was dying of cancer. But now that you’ve started this investigation… to be saying she was murdered too… I can’t imagine how the poor boy—and the others—must be feeling now.”

  Zachary refrained from pointing out that it wasn’t his fault that someone had taken Robin’s life. All he was doing was trying to find out the truth.

  “We don’t know if it was murder,” Zachary said. “It might have been an error on the part of the doctor or someone else involved in Robin’s care. Or it still might have been the course of her cancer or the chemotherapy. We won’t know until the coroner has had a chance to complete the autopsy and whatever lab tests they have to order.”

  “But you made it worse. Worse than if you just let them believe it was cancer.”

  Zachary gave a helpless shrug. “I’m just trying to uncover the truth.”

  “Maybe sometimes what is hidden should stay that way.”

  Zachary redirected the conversation. “Did she have any other visitors? Lawrence, Vera, Gloria, and Rhys? Is that it?”

  “I don’t know.” Chenka closed her eyes and rested her head back. “I don’t remember. She was tired and the nurses discouraged anyone from visiting.”

  “Any nurse in particular?”

  “What?”

  “Which nurse discouraged visitors?” Maybe someone had wanted visitors out of the way in order to give Robin something that would ease her pain permanently.

&nbs
p; “I don’t know. They said she’d be feeling better in a day or two.”

  “Who did?”

  “Nurse…” Chenka trailed off, trying to recall which one it had been. “Was it Rachelle? I don’t remember for sure.”

  Chenka appeared to be getting pretty tired herself. In another minute or two, she was going to be snoring.

  “What is she like? Nurse Rachelle?” Zachary tried to remember which nurse that was. He thought she was the heavy redhead he had already spoken with. She hadn’t been able to tell him much about Robin or the events of her last day on earth.

  “She’s a sweetie,” Chenka said. “Always very happy and kind, even when she’s run off her feet. Not like some of the others.”

  “Do you have complaints about the care here? Or did Robin?”

  “It’s a hospital. You can’t expect them to take care of you like your baba. It’s not an easy job.”

  Chenka went quiet and Zachary didn’t pursue the conversation any further. He’d gotten everything out of Chenka that he was going to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Z

  achary sat in his car and turned the key again, to no avail. He didn’t know much about cars, so he wasn’t sure whether he had a dead battery or something more serious. All he knew was, it wasn’t starting. He called his mechanic and told him where it was and what it was doing, and Jergens agreed to pick it up and have a look.

  Zachary tapped his foot lightly on the gas pedal, considering who to call next. He could try Kenzie or Bowman; either of them would give him a ride if they were available, but both were probably working and wouldn’t be free for a couple more hours. He could call a cab, walk, or take the bus.

  He took out his phone and instead called Bridget.

  “Zachary!” She always sounded surprised and a little disapproving when he called, even though he had been doing his best to help her out. There had been too many times in the past when she’d had good reason to be angry with him, and it was something of a habit. “What’s up?”

  “My car broke down at the hospital. I’m sort of stranded and I wondered if you’d pick me up. We could go back to the apartment and discuss the case. Kill two birds with one stone…”

  “Can’t you just have it towed?”

  “I am. But then I still need to get home. I don’t know how long it will be until it will be fixed.”

  Bridget sighed, but to Zachary’s surprise, she agreed. “Fine. I’ll be a little bit. I have some work to do before I head over. Maybe… half an hour? With traffic, that means it might be an hour before I get there. You might be better off getting a cab.”

  “No, that’s fine. I can keep busy for that long. Just give me a call when you’re here. You want to pick me up on the east side, the emergency entrance?”

  “I never like to pull in there in case someone in a hurry rear-ends me. There’s an entrance just south of there, where the elevators are. You know the one with the statue?”

  “Sure. I’ll head over there and be ready in about an hour.”

  Bridget acknowledged this and hung up the phone.

  Zachary got out of the car, locked it up, and headed for the other side of the hospital. He hadn’t picked the east side just to give himself some exercise, but he did think it would help him kill a little time. He strolled along looking at the artwork on the walls, stopping to read plaques, and listening in on private conversations that caught his attention.

  The hospital housed not only a small gift shop with the requisite flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and candy, but it also had a well-equipped pharmacy. Zachary considered the gift shop, wondering about buying something for Bridget to thank her for the lift, but decided against it. She would probably take it the wrong way. She would decide it was a romantic gesture and overreact, reversing all of the ground that Zachary had been able to gain. It was too soon. He’d just have to take it a step at a time and wait until he was sure she was ready for that step. Not wanting to tempt himself, he chose the pharmacy instead.

  He wandered up and down the aisles, impressed with the amount of merchandise they stocked. He would have thought that, being a hospital, there wouldn’t be a great need for over-the-counter drugs, but they appeared to do a brisk trade.

  It occurred to him that it wouldn’t hurt to get some kind of immune system booster with the amount of time he was spending at the hospital. Not that he was going to catch cancer, but there were plenty of other bugs and viruses floating around the hospital that could be really nasty. Zachary’s diet and sleep habits were not conducive to a strong immune system, so a supplement might be a good idea, even if it were just vitamin C.

  He found the supplements aisle and walked along it slowly, running his eyes along the shelves and trying to determine what kind of order had been used to shelve them. The supplements appeared to be arranged by function rather than alphabetically, so he looked over each group. He might get a sleep remedy too. They rarely did anything for him, and he would have to research anything to make sure it wasn’t contraindicated by his other medications, but Zachary always had his eyes open for anything that might help him through the long, restless nights.

  There was a group of bottles in pinks and pastels, with women’s silhouettes on them. Multivitamins for women, herbs to ease cramps or increase fertility. Pregnancy multis, iron, and laxatives. Moving farther along the shelves, he came upon digestive aids of all sorts, then a shelf of various supplements and formulations for balancing emotional issues. Zachary paused to look at them for a moment, but didn’t feel like ending up with worse problems, so he continued to look.

  There was a big section devoted to boosting immune function as well as treating cold and flu symptoms. The staff had thoughtfully added tissues, wipes, and disinfecting gels to the display. Zachary picked through the various vitamins and formulae, eventually deciding on one bottle of vitamin C and one supplement that was supposed to help protect against cold and flu. He decided to add hand sanitizer as well. He’d use it as soon as it was paid for to eliminate any nasty hospital bugs he had picked up. He had touched a lot of different surfaces during the day. Who knew how many millions of bugs he’d managed to pick up.

  Bridget called Zachary to advise him she was pulling up to the statue, and Zachary hurried out to meet her, not wanting to keep her waiting. He sat down in her overly-warm car and smiled in appreciation.

  “Thanks so much for the ride, Bridge. Sorry to take you away from your work.”

  He was curious as to what work she was doing. She’d had a full-time job when they had been married, before she had been diagnosed with cancer. She’d taken a leave of absence for her treatments, then eventually given them notice. Having gotten together with Gordon had changed her financial situation. Instead of pooling her resources with Zachary, whose income was sporadic and, at best, middle class, she could just rely on Gordon to provide her with everything she needed. A big, beautiful home, which Zachary assumed came with maid service so that Bridget wouldn’t be run ragged taking care of it, and a life of leisure. She still had the yellow VW she had driven when she’d lived with Zachary. She loved that little car and would probably never give it up until it fell apart. Any work that she was doing was a choice, something that she wanted to do for herself, rather than for survival.

  Bridget glanced over at Zachary as he fumbled trying to join the ends of the unfamiliar seatbelt buckle around his coat, which kept ballooning out to block his vision.

  “I’d better not find any electronics in that seat or under the mats,” she warned. “You put a bug or a tracker in this car, and believe me, you’ll never get another rescue from me.”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to Zachary. He was so happy to be sitting in the same car as she was, he hadn’t even thought of the opportunity it presented. He could have put some tiny electronic device inside of it. It wouldn’t be easy with her watching closely or checking the obvious locations once he was out, but he could still have hidden it pretty well.

  After finally click
ing the seatbelt into place, Zachary held up his hands to show they were empty. “No electronics,” he promised. “And I had no idea I was going to be in your car in the first place. I don’t even have anything on me.”

  She gave him a hard look, then nodded. “Good.” She turned the radio up, which discouraged conversation, and headed back to Zachary’s apartment.

  “Will you come up? So we can go over the case?”

  Bridget considered. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I should probably be heading home. Gordon…”

  “He wouldn’t let you?” Zachary asked. He knew Bridget wouldn’t like to think someone else was controlling her.

  “I can go where I want,” Bridget asserted. “I was just thinking I should get home soon. I’ve been out for quite a while today, and he doesn’t like—”

  Zachary raised his eyebrows.

  “It’s not like that!” Bridget bristled. “He doesn’t like me to do too much. I still get tired faster than I used to. He worries about me.”

  “Ah.” Zachary nodded.

  They caught the elevator up to Zachary’s apartment, not speaking to each other on the way. Zachary didn’t want to get her more worked up. He wanted her to be nice and comfortable and loose. Like they used to be when they were together.

  Zachary let himself into the apartment. It occurred to him that Bridget didn’t have the keys for the new place. She’d had keys for his old apartment. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to have keys, but he wasn’t sure he didn’t, either. It would be a nice gesture to let her know she was always welcome and that he trusted her. But he’d already called the police once when he thought he had a burglar and it had only been Bridget. He didn’t want a repeat.

  Bridget heard the distinctive rattle of pills in bottles when Zachary put his pharmacy bag down on the kitchen counter. Her head snapped around.

  “What’s that?” she demanded. Without waiting for an invitation, she grabbed the bag and opened it.

  “Immune system,” Zachary explained. “I’m trying to take care of myself. Make sure I don’t pick something up at the hospital with all of the time I’ve been spending over there.”