Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 2)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  "You've been here a long time, then."

  "Sixteen years. They were wonderful years until…" She smiled. "Well, let's just say things haven't been the same since Paul's parents died. Now he's so preoccupied with running Edgewood he's… well, that's old news, isn't it? I'm sure things will settle down eventually. In the meantime, I'm keeping pretty busy."

  "Adriane, I hope you won't be too upset by my asking, but is there something going on between you and David?"

  Her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean last night in the records room? No, not at all, at least not romantically speaking. David and I have been collaborating on an article about reversing senile dementia. Actually, he's writing, and I'm supplying the research."

  "Really?"

  "You know that micro-computer chip I was telling you about at the funeral?"

  Helen nodded.

  Excitement glistened in Adriane's eyes as it often did when she spoke of her work. "Well, we're about to go public with it."

  "Which means?"

  "We begin by submitting the article and calling a press conference. I'm just hoping this business with Jack doesn't interfere. Paul may want to delay the announcement until the abuse business has died down, or at least until the institution is in the clear over it."

  They walked for a few yards without speaking. "I noticed you were using the pay phone up at the community center," Adriane said. "Everything all right?"

  "Fine. I was just talking to my son."

  "The police detective?"

  "Hmm. I realized that the person who shot at me last night wasn't Jack Owens."

  "Really? Then who?" Adriane picked up her pace. Helen matched it.

  "I don't know. A staff member maybe. Though Jason seems to think it could be a patient."

  Adriane dropped onto a bench near the path. "I'd hoped all this craziness was over. I've never seen Paul so distraught. It's bad enough that he lost his parents. Now Jack and whoever else may have been working with him are giving Edgewood and Kincaid Laboratories a bad name. It doesn't seem fair."

  Helen gazed out over the panoramic vista. "This may not be a good time to ask, but can you still give me a tour of the laboratory facilities today?"

  "Of course." Adriane pushed off the bench. "Life does go on, doesn't it? I'll send Chris over for you at ten."

  Helen hurried back to the manor and managed a round of exercises before breakfast. Iris joined them at the table, back to her usual outrageous, toothless, talkative self.

  "Probably out of the country by now," she said, commenting on the whereabouts of the former aid.

  "Wonder who warned him off?" Lydia, like the others who'd been tormented by Jack, had become much more animated and open.

  "Well, it wasn't me," Daniel offered. "The police seem to think I tipped him off. Truth is, I'm glad he's gone."

  "But what about your plans to…?" Helen asked.

  "I've changed my mind. You were right. Suicide isn't the answer. It never was."

  "Vel, I'm sure glad to hear that." Lars grinned and shifted his gaze to Helen. "Kept telling him he needed to have faith. You did us a good turn, Helen. I wish now I'd done something myself."

  "Perhaps it's better you didn't, Lars," Helen said. "Jack had ways of dealing with people who defied him. Which reminds me. Do you have any idea as to who might have been working with him?" Helen dunked her tea bag, then set it aside.

  "I don't think he was working with anybody around here," Daniel said, "leastwise none of the patients. Only aid I ever saw him being cozy with was Lucy. I think they had a thing for each other once when he first came."

  "Not just Lucy." Lydia looked up from her cholesterol free scrambled eggs. "That low life was flirting with everything in skirts, including our Stephanie."

  Helen slid over Stephanie as a possible accomplice for the moment and hooked up on Lucy. She remembered the incident with the lamp her first day at Edgewood. Could Lucy have been the person in the room? The aide had said she hadn't seen anyone else. Helen replayed the incident. She'd awakened from her nap and heard something. The room was dark, and when she reached for the light it fell to the floor. Suppose Lucy had been snooping in the drawer, then hidden behind the chair. It would have been easy to knock the lamp out of Helen's reach, wait a few moments, then open the door and snap on the light pretending she'd just come in. Lucy hadn't stolen anything at that time. There'd been nothing to steal.

  And Lucy had been in the basement. Could she have had time to shoot at Helen, run downstairs, and set up an alibi with Bob? Maybe. She'd have to talk with Jason. The big question was why? Lucy didn't seem to have a mean bone in her body.

  "Helen? Helen, dear, are you still with us?" Lydia asked. "You look rather spaced out as my grandson would say."

  "I'm fine. Daniel, you may have something. Could Lucy or one of the other aides have taken the money you had planned on giving Jack the night I caught him hitting you?"

  His brows nearly came together. "I suppose it's possible. I took a shower that evening and was out of the room for several hours playing cards."

  "I bet Lucy stole my diamond," Gladys said. "She kept telling me I lost it 'cause it was too big for my finger. I knew that wasn't true."

  "Now that you mention it," Betty added, "I've heard several residents complain about thefts recently, money, jewelry. It's a problem in a lot of nursing homes, so I didn't think much about it. With all the visitors and such, things tend to walk off."

  "Humph." Lars shook his head. "No one ever stole from me."

  Daniel chuckled. "There's good reason for that, big guy. If I were a thief, you'd be the last person I'd want to tangle with."

  "Why don't you make a list of the missing items, and I'll give it to my son."

  After breakfast, Helen made another call to Jason, this time from her room, but he'd already left for Edgewood.

  When he arrived Helen was waiting in the lobby. "I may have a suspect." She handed him the list of items the residents were missing and began telling him about Lucy. Slipping an arm through his, Helen drew him down to the day room, then outside onto the patio. "With that in mind, is it possible for Lucy to have shot at me, then ducked down to the basement?"

  "It's possible. We've got a few minutes discrepancy in her statement, but that could be individual watches. Bob, the fellow from the funeral home, said he'd arrived at eleven and waited ten minutes in the morgue for Lucy. The nursing supervisor said she'd sent Lucy down with the papers at around eleven, but she couldn't give us an exact time. Lucy says she stopped in the bathroom for a couple of minutes before going down."

  "Which could have given her time to fire at me, then duck into the basement, turn out the lights, and go into the morgue."

  "Okay, she could have done it, but why?"

  Helen shrugged. "To get me out of the way, I suspect. Or she may have only wanted to scare me off. I have a hard time seeing her as a murderer. Still, if she's been helping Jack in his drug trade and extortion, not to mention the assisted suicide arrangements, she's capable of anything."

  "We'll take her in for questioning. Maybe she'll lead us to Jack." Jason raked a hand through his thick dark hair. "Funny how things tend to come together. We found a .25 caliber Raven registered to Jack Owens and a pair of gloves in a trash bin in the basement rest room, which is, I might add, rather conveniently located one door down from the morgue and close to the exit."

  Helen leaned forward to pick a dead blossom from a deep red geranium. "Speaking of Jack, have you had any leads?"

  "Yes, but so far all dead ends."

  Jason's cellular phone buzzed. "Yeah, this is McGrady." He glanced at Helen and frowned, then spoke to the caller. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

  "What is it?"

  After sliding the phone into a holster at his belt, Jason ran a weary hand down his face. "Forget what I said about this thing coming together. Some cyclist just found Jack's body in a ditch off the old scenic highway. Looks like a hit-and-run."

  Chapter Twenty-four


  Mrs. Bradley?" Chris Chang jogged across the lawn toward her. "Adriane sent me over to get you."

  Helen stared at him a moment, still lost in thought over the news of Jack's death.

  "Mrs. Bradley? Is everything okay?"

  "Just thinking." She took his hand, letting him help her to her feet. She'd been sitting on the bench since Jason had left her, trying to pull together some kind of logical explanation as to why someone had run Jack down. Not that he didn't have enemies.

  "About Jack, I'll bet." Chris led her around the front of the building.

  "Yes. How did you find out so quickly?"

  "Andi told us."

  "Did you know him?"

  "Not very well. I saw him a few times when he came over to the lab to bring blood work or pick up meds for the patients. Uncle Paul and Dad were talking about him this morning."

  "Did Jack come to the lab very often?"

  "I don't know. He mostly worked nights, so I wouldn't have seen him. We have a log though, where people have to sign in and out. Kind of like at the gate, except everyone has to write down what they came to get. The police were looking through it this morning."

  Once inside the brick building, Helen and Chris were greeted by a security guard stationed in the large marble entry.

  "Andi," Helen said. "I didn't expect to see you over here. I thought you worked out at the guardhouse."

  "We alternate—makes the job more interesting. How's the shoulder?”

  "Getting better every day."

  "Glad to hear that." They spoke a few more minutes, then after signing in, Chris and Helen proceeded down a wide corridor to the left. According to the sign, the research center was to the right. Helen stopped Chris and asked him why they were heading in the opposite direction.

  "We'll be going there in a few minutes. Adriane said I should show you the pharmacy first, then bring you over. I guess she wanted to finish up a project before you arrived."

  Helen nodded and paused to admire the carved wood staircase. "This is a beautiful building. If I remember right from reading the brochures, this is part of an old college campus."

  "Yes. It was built in the 1920s. Grandfather bought the school and the land around it. It was in pretty bad shape, but they restored it."

  "Where do these stairs lead? I didn't notice a sign." Helen fingered the blue velvet rope that blocked off access to the stairs. "And why is it roped off?"

  "That's our testing facility. Only authorized personnel can go up there. Actually, that's the case with the entire building, except for the pharmacy. It has a separate door on the outside for customers."

  Chris moved away from the stairs toward a door at the end of the hall. "Adriane might take you up there, but I wouldn't count on it." He grinned. "Too many trade secrets."

  "Anything that might help me find out whether or not your grandparents were murdered?"

  "I doubt it. It's mostly a testing facility. The only people allowed in there are the doctors and a few other people with security clearance." He frowned. "Grandpa had his heart attack up there."

  "In that case, I'd very much like to see it."

  Chris glanced around. "Maybe I could bring you back later, like tonight after dark. I… um… I'm not supposed to have a key, but I took an extra one that Grandpa had. I like to snoop around sometimes to see what's new."

  Helen nodded. "Tonight then."

  Chris opened the door, escorted Helen in, and introduced her to a wiry blond woman in her thirties. "I'll let Sheila show you around here, Mrs. Bradley. She can tell you a lot more about it than I can." His gaze shifted to the head pharmacist. "I'll be in the lab. Let me know when you're done."

  "Sure," Sheila responded, "but you don't have to come back. I'll deliver her to you."

  Sheila dutifully showed Helen around the pharmacy, which, like all pharmacies, stocked hundreds of medications for every ailment imaginable. Some natural remedies such as vitamins, minerals. Miscellaneous sundries were stocked on shelves as over-the-counter items. Prescription medications were kept behind the counter. Sheila introduced her to one other pharmacist and a clerk, both of whom were busy with customers.

  "This is quite a facility."

  "Yes. We're rather proud of it. Andrew Kincaid developed the pharmacy to service the nursing home as well as the residents in the assisted living and retirement complexes. All Edgewood members receive a discount on their medications, and supplies and most, depending on their health care plan, get the meds free."

  "That must be an expensive venture."

  "It is. As you can imagine, we dispense a lot of medication here," Sheila explained. "We have around two thousand residents at Edgewood and almost all of them are on meds. Of course, even if they aren't on prescription drugs, they all take our natural therapy packet, which is made up of vitamin and mineral supplements along with various herbs."

  "I've heard a great deal about this natural therapy since coming to Edgewood." Helen let her gaze roam over the well-stocked shelves. Many of the products bore the name Kincaid Laboratories.

  "Wonderful, isn't it?" Sheila straightened several brown bottles. "Herbs have always been known to have therapeutic effects, but many western doctors tend to stay away from them for the most part. Too illogical, unproven, and unsophisticated."

  "Now herbal remedies are all the rage."

  "Dr. Chang, Mai, developed our particular packets. She's devoted most of her life to gathering and studying the effects of herbs. We have our own herb garden out back." Sheila chuckled. "Mai is very particular about the herbs being pure, no insecticides. About the only thing we don't grow ourselves is nettles, and around here mother nature provides an abundance."

  "Nettles?"

  "Right. Who would have thought a plant that triggered such severe reactions on our skin could be so beneficial?"

  Helen shuddered, remembering the terrible itchy rash nettles caused when it contacted skin. "I hate to sound skeptical, but what possible use are nettles?"

  "They can be dried and put into capsule form or tea to treat hay fever and other allergies. Nettles are also used to treat vaginal infections and are known to lower blood sugar, among other things. The Indians would make a poultice from the roots to alleviate joint pain. It's even been used on the scalp for treating hair loss."

  "This is fascinating. You grow and produce the products here?"

  "Sure do. Let me take you out to the processing plant."

  Sheila ushered her back into the main hallway. They walked to the end of it and out another door. She stopped just before entering a large warehouse and pointed to her right. "That's Dr. Chang's herb garden over there. We have about fifteen acres planted this year."

  Helen's gaze drifted over the rows of various plants and settled on a large patch of foxglove. The hair on the back of her neck snapped to attention. Foxglove was used to make digitalis, a common heart medication and deadly in high doses.

  "Sheila, isn't that foxglove?"

  "Yes, beautiful, isn't it?"

  "You surely don't make your own digitalis preparations."

  "Oh no. Ours is strictly for research purposes, and to look at. We get our digitalis from a pharmaceutical company in the Midwest."

  "But Dr. Chang, Mai, uses it for research?"

  "Yes, I believe so. You'll have to ask her about that. We only get the details once something has been approved by the FDA for sale in the pharmacy."

  "I understand Andrew Kincaid had a heart attack. Was he on heart medication?"

  Sheila's pleasantry slid into a look of disgust. "Look, Mrs. Bradley, I know what you're getting at. You think Mai killed her father with a lethal dose of digitalis. You can forget that. Yes, he had a heart condition and he was on medication, but Mai would never have killed him, or anyone for that matter. She's totally devoted to saving lives."

  "Did you know about Irene's charges that her husband had been murdered?"

  "Yes, she'd talked to me about it. Even accused me and my staff at one point."

  "So
you think Irene was delusional?"

  "Yes, I do. There's no other reasonable answer for her behavior."

  Helen wandered through the herb garden for a few minutes with Sheila, learning more about nature's remedies than she particularly wanted to know. It was a complicated area of study. She would never remember all the combinations of herbs and remedies. The one thing she could recall was that "natural" and "safe" were definitely not synonymous. Some of the products had deadly side effects.

  As with everything at Edgewood Estates, the production and distribution area was impressive. They produced a wide variety of medicinal herbs and other products including Renavare, Irene's anti-aging face cream. Many of the products were distributed nationwide through a private distribution company and through catalog sales. It was the kind of corporate structure Helen would have expected to see in a big city, not hidden in a sprawling country estate.

  "Does the government know about all this?" Helen asked as she and the pharmacist made their way back into the main building.

  "Do you mean is all this a legitimate business? Yes. We have inspectors out here on a regular basis. In fact, even more so now that we've applied for a federal grant."

  "Oh yes, Adriane mentioned that. Four million, right?"

  "Yes, and we have to come up with matching funds. I'm not sure where we are now, but when Andrew died, we were only at two million."

  "I take it the grant is rather important?" Helen's voice echoed through the wide marble hallway.

  "Vital. If we don't get it, we'll have to close down the research center, which would be like losing a vital organ. We've all had to make major budget cuts. Like the pharmacy, for example. I had to let two people go. It's been tough, but we'll make it. Paul says he'll do whatever it takes to keep us operating."

  Sheila paused at what looked like an elevator door, only there were no up or down buttons. She pressed a buzzer and announced their presence into a speaker phone mounted on the wall, then inserted a plastic card into the lock mounted in the wall.

  The doors swished apart. Chris stood in the opening. Helen turned to thank Sheila for the tour, but the young woman had already gone.