Treating Murder: Book One of the Veronica Lane, M.D. series (medical thriller)

by Gabrielle Black

  On the front stoop, I found Missy in her trademark red plastic shoes and an off-the-shoulder red shirt. There was a new purple mark on her arm.

  I sat down heavily beside her. I needed to be glad to see Missy, to show her how welcome she was and how loved, but at that moment, all I could muster was. “You’re back. Are you going to stay?” My mouth was dry.

  “I don’t know.” Missy didn’t look up.

  “Look at me.”

  Missy lifted her chin slowly. There was a long, hot, violet-red line from her eye to her mouth. It looked like a whip mark.

  “What happened to you?” I jumped up and unlocked the door with the keys shaking in my hand. “Come in here,” I said, and hurried toward the freezer for an ice pack. I’d kept several frozen for sore muscles when Steve had been there. Grrr, I growled at the thought.

  Missy said, "It's from Max. He said it was my punishment for failing to turn in a full night’s pay." There were no tears in her eyes as she accepted the ice pack.

  “What did he hit you with?” I held my own head in my hands as if it were about to break.

  “The stereo cord.”

  “Will you stay with me now?” The question held no urgency, only resignation.

  “That’s not why I’m here. I’ve gotta get back by tonight or he’ll kill me. I have to tell you about something else last night.”

  “Missy, I can’t send you back to be beaten again.” I repeated into my own hands. I had no strength for anything else. I wanted to sink into the floor and never move again.

  Missy watched me. I shoved my hands back into my hair, holding it out wildly like a witch doctor’s headdress. “Doc, is there something that I did?”

  “No. I’m glad that you’re here.” I smiled weakly. “And I can’t let you go back.” I reached for Missy’s shoulder and squeezed it.

  “I have to go back.”

  “Why?” I shook my head. “Why would you want to return to that when you don’t have to?”

  “He has my stuff.”

  “We'll get you new stuff.”

  Missy squeezed her eyes shut. Her voice was almost a whisper. “He’ll go after my baby. He said that he would if I ever left him again. Even to go straight.”

  “We’ll put him in jail. He’ll never bother you again.” My stomach felt queasy, and I sat down as gingerly as possible on a ladder-back kitchen chair.

  “They’ll never believe me. He’ll come back after me.”

  “Missy, we’ll find a way. I know some good lawyers.” I was firm. I could not let Missy go back. That would break me, maybe break us both.

  Missy shook her head, but said nothing. She moved the ice pack further down her cheek and winced.

  “We’ll find a way,” I repeated.

  “I have to tell you about something.” Missy’s eyes met mine and stayed.

  “What?” I took slow, deep breaths trying to calm my insides.

  “That guy from The Daily News that you sent to find me?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was back downtown last night. He hooked up with my friend Cherry.”

  No wonder he knew where to find Missy when I asked him. Hooked up, meaning hiring her services, I supposed. I refused to follow that thought to its conclusion.

  “Cherry told me that he was celebrating his success. He must’ve thought that newspaper story was great. He was telling her about the tip that he got on your story. The whole thing that was on his voice mail. He told Cherry that it was a message from you, and he was planning to thank you for changing your mind. I wanted to let you know, and know that I'm glad you got off.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at my gray-green face.

  “A message from me?” I repeated.

  “Yes.” She looked at me questioningly.

  I groaned. Adams thought that I had betrayed Steve for my own salvation. “Missy, I didn’t call him.”

  “He said it was from you. Hey, are you okay?”

  I was folded over in my seat trying to make sense of everything that I had seen and heard today. “How did he know that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it was a woman’s voice. Who else would it be?” said Missy.

  “I don’t even have the card he gave me anymore.” Where was the card? I’d had it when I went to meet Jamie. It was in my jacket pocket. The jacket was probably still in the car, I hadn’t had it on since then. I stood up and felt my head swim. I teetered against the wall for a moment before recovering blood flow to my brain. I needed some water for my sudden cotton mouth.

  “Doc, are you all right?” There was real fright in Missy’s voice this time.

  “I’m fine.” I gathered my strength and stood up straight. Missy followed me to my car. Sure enough, right where I had left it, was the jacket. I was always forgetting to bring things in from the car. I carried in the jacket along with some accumulated floorboard trash.

  “What are we doing?” asked Missy trailing along behind me.

  “Looking for the reporter’s card.” I reached into the two outside pockets and then the inner pockets. The jacket was military style with plenty of pockets, and I could never find in which pocket I had placed anything. In the breast pocket was a piece of heavy paper. The card.

  The phone rang. I glanced at my watch. It was already twelve-thirty. I answered Jacqueline’s call, and then hung up quickly.

  “Missy, Jacqueline is going to meet me for lunch. You met her, remember? I’ve got to tell her about what’s been going on. Maybe she can help me figure things out. Will you wait here for a while? Please? I want to talk to you, too.”

  Missy looked around the spacious kitchen and the overflowing cabinets. “Do you mind if I have a snack while I wait?”

  I looked at her scrawny body and said, “Of course, eat all you want. There’s a spare bed upstairs too if you need a nap.”

  “Cool. I’ll be here.” Missy nodded. “But I have to get back by five.”

  Now was not the time to argue, I would resolve that after I saw Jacqueline. I had a lot to sort out with my best friend today. I needed some reinforcement before taking any other stands. But I was going to pay Mr. Adams and his answering machine a visit later, and find out where he had really gotten his story.

  ***

  I met Jacqueline at the little deli about a block from her office that served her favorite fruit salad. We took the food back to Jacqueline’s condominium because she preferred to eat at home whenever she could.

  We sat together at the small trestle-table in her breakfast nook and spread out our food.

  “So why didn’t you want to go out last night?” I started the conversation. I was not sure that wanted to tell Jacqueline about the earrings I had seen at Steve’s house just yet. I needed to decide what I thought of it myself. I was also not ready to tell Jacqueline about the girl at my house. Jacqueline would never understand that. She would try to scare me with theft stories and wild drug sales. I trusted Missy not to do those things.

  “I didn’t want to become that cozy with someone who may be on the opposite side in the courtroom the next time. It might create a conflict of interest.”

  “Surely opposing lawyers go out together all of the time, when they’re not battling each other on a case. Most people leave it in the court-room.”

  “I don’t think that it’s the right thing to do,” she sounded irritated.

  I leaned back and pointed my spoon at Jacqueline, “You know, it might do you some good to go out and socialize more yourself. It was very refreshing to go out last night. Maybe you could meet someone.”

  “Who would I meet?”

  “Anybody,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  Jacqueline gave me a long penetrating gaze. “Someone like your ex-husband? You know that if you scratch them deep enough, men are all the same. I’m perfectly happy the way that I am.”

  My eyebrows rose in disagreement. “You know that all men don’t cheat. Your brother for instance has been wonderful to his wife. Besides even among men who cheat, no
t all of them are as cruel as your father.”

  “So, what? If they’re nice about it, then it’s okay?” asked Jacqueline bitterly.

  “You know that’s not what I meant.” I was losing an argument I hadn’t realized I was having. It’s tough to argue with an attorney.

  “You just can’t quit defending Steve, and he’s a murderer!”

  “That’s not true.” I protested. “In fact, I’m not so sure anymore that he didn’t kill Sarah.”

  “Why did you suddenly change your tune?” Jacqueline raised her water glass to her mouth. My eyes, the eyes of a jeweler, fastened on the ring that Jacqueline was wearing. It was a pale green stone set on a narrow, squared band. A flash of recognition must have crossed my face, because Jacqueline kept her eyes on me, unblinking as a cat, and put her glass down.

  “Well?” said Jacqueline, still staring.

  I stuttered, disconcerted. “St-Steve, um, Steve had a pair of earrings at his place that I had made.”

  “Did you report that to the police?” The look in her eyes was wild, and one I had never seen there before.

  “No. I went home to think, and then you called and I came here.” She knew I’d seen the ring, and she wasn’t telling me why she had it.

  “That’s good,” Jacqueline continued. “There’s no need to get the police stirred up about this thing again.”

  “Why not? Don’t you want them to solve this?” I looked carefully at Jacqueline’s eyes.

  “It is solved, is it not? They have their guilty man, but beyond that, anything we do will only drag your name back in.” Her gaze didn’t change, and my nerves were becoming rattled again.

  “How did Adams get that information for the article? No one knew that Steve had any of jewelry. Until today I didn’t know that it was there.”

  “Conjecture. It was easy to assume that he did have the jewelry, and had given it to her. It helped to incriminate him. There is nothing like solid detail, something as nasty as him giving his wife’s jewelry to his mistress, to sway the public.”

  My heart thudded erratically in my chest. I tried to piece things together as I spoke. Missy had told me that it was a woman who called Adams. A woman that he had confused with me. “You seem to have given a lot of thought to what details would convince whom, including me. That reporter wasn’t building his own story. You called him and spelled it out for him.”

  “That information was as accurate as what they used to justify your arrest.” Jacqueline stood up abruptly, knocking her napkin to the floor.

  “You planted that article didn’t you? There was no ‘mole’.”

  “Of course I did,” said Jacqueline silkily.

  I jumped up as well. “You lied! You almost got Jamie disbarred, do you know that? That’s what he told me last night. That’s why he looked so angry when they emerged from the judge’s chambers. Dormand complained about him. He had to explain everything. How could you do this to me?”

  “To you? I did it for you! It was the only way to get you off and salvage your reputation. Isn’t that what you wanted? You were in grave danger of losing everything just because that stupid woman wanted an autopsy. She really almost ruined everything. But I saved it, and as a bonus Steve was implicated. I couldn’t have planned it better.” Jacqueline turned to face me, head to head.

  “You ruined his life.” I felt the blood draining from my face, I must have been deathly white, but I was not at all light-headed. I felt a clarity and conviction I had not had in a long time.

  “Steve almost ruined yours, and you would have been too weak to stop him. You would have let him right back into your life, and he would have picked right back up with that woman. You’re just like my mother.” Jacqueline’s eyes blazed.

  I already knew the answer to my next question. “Did you kill Sarah?”

  “No. I didn’t kill her.”

  “You did.” I said in a preternaturally calm voice. My stomach was no longer wrenching me in knots. Fury had supplanted everything else. “You took the gold. That’s why there were no signs of forced entry. You have a key.” I advanced on Jacqueline, hands clenched.

  “You’re getting carried away.” Jacqueline backed away reluctantly, but not fearfully, more like a lion not yet ready to pounce.

  I grabbed her hand. My jaw was clenched as I said between my teeth. “Jacqueline, I never gave you this ring. It was going to be part of a set that I’ve never finished. It disappeared when the arsenic did. I couldn't be sure if that was when I lost the earrings, but I missed that ring. You knew that I would recognize it. Why did you wear it?”

  Jacqueline’s voice became low and venomous, “Fine, I did it, and I wanted you to know.” She snatched back her hand. “It took you long enough to figure it out.”

  “You’ve been planting my jewelry all over the place. So the earrings were at Steve’s so I or anybody else would believe he was the murderer. I got that. What was the purpose of the brooch at Sarah’s? With my initials? That was practically the nail in my own coffin.”

  “The brooch was from earlier. She wanted something of yours, and I’d hoped that if you ever went there and saw it, you’d make a connection between her and Steve, thinking he’d given it to her.” She shook her head wildly so her blonde hair swung out to the sides. “I just couldn’t get back to retrieve it after this suddenly became a murder case.”

  “But why? Why kill her?”

  Jacqueline growled, “Because she betrayed you. And Steve betrayed you.”

  “Why arsenic?”

  Jacqueline shrugged, but maintained her gaze. “You had talked about having that license, so I Googled it one day. The symptoms mimic MS almost perfectly. She’d die and no one would suspect a thing. It was perfect.”

  My eyebrows drew together over my nose in question. Bits of my stick straight bangs were falling out of their clip into my eyes and I blew at them impatiently. “Then why did you give it to her for such a long time?”

  “Penance. She needed to pay for her sins. Besides, there is less inquiry into the death of a terminally ill patient than a healthy, young girl. It would have been perfect except for that insurance agent.”

  I blew out an explosive breath and sank onto the zebra sofa in disbelief. Jacqueline was as remorseless as any sociopath I had ever met on the psych wards. A catholic-penance-believing sociopath. “How did you do it?”

  Jacqueline began to stalk around her kitchen, green eyes flashing, and she smiled coldly, “I met her at her work when I came to give a talk on crime prevention.”

  “You scheduled the talk?” I was starting to hyperventilate; making myself dizzy. I had spoken to inmates at the state hospital for the criminally insane who discussed their brutal crimes in the same objective, factual manner. Jacqueline sounded like she was expounding the facts in a court case.

  “Of course,” answered Jacqueline.

  “How did you find out about the affair? Was it you who called to say that he was having an affair?”

  “I saw them at a café on the edge of town. They were too involved in each other to notice me. He was holding her hand.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me about seeing them? Why didn’t you let on that you knew?”

  “If you had known that I saw them, you would have demanded to know who the woman was and you would have quit seeing her as a patient. She needed to keep seeing you until the end for this to work.” Jacqueline explained doggedly, as though she were coaching a slow pupil.

  “But, why, why?”

  “I had to. We promised always to look after each other. We’re sisters.” Jacqueline’s voice was mechanical, distant and forced sounding.

  “That was a sorority.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing from my best friend.

  She smiled beatifically. “You’ve always looked out for me, ever since I lost my parents. I’m just returning the favor. I did for you what I could never do for my mother.”

  I gasped. “This is insanity! You can’t just kill her and go on as though nothin
g has happened.” Cold despair settled in my bones.

  “That’s exactly what we are going to do.” Jacqueline’s vivid green eyes were empty and cold as emeralds. “You can’t turn me in. It would make a sensational news story, but in the end it would only destroy your reputation. And without any more than your testimony, this will never be won in a trial and I can deny every bit of it.”

  I stood up with my hand at my throat. “I’ve got to get some air.”

  “Why don’t we have dinner tonight?” asked Jacqueline, abruptly calm and unruffled as though she was discussing hair stylists. “That will give you a chance to think things over. You’ll see that I’m right.”

  I nodded and stepped back toward the door. With my hand on the knob I asked. “So what happened to Fiona Crawford?”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” said Jacqueline coolly.

  “What was she coming to tell us?”

  “I don’t know that either. Perhaps to apologize for calling that family member and getting you into so much trouble. I really don’t know.” She stared with those hard, green eyes that I had never seen before.

  “You think that she just got unlucky, and died before she could apologize?”

  “Like I said, it was probably jet lag.” Jacqueline no longer showed any agitation. She had erased it cleanly as though it were no longer useful.

  I left without another word. As I started the car, I was shivering, yet the day was unseasonably warm. My insides hurt, and I felt empty all over.

  Chapter 21

  At home in my studio, I absently stirred the stones in my jewel box with my finger. I couldn’t focus; there had to be a simple way to handle all of this, if I could just think. I had to go to someone, but I wasn’t ready to trust the police or Chapman again. I climbed back to the main floor, restless, moving from room to room. Missy was still upstairs asleep.

  Jacqueline was my friend, my confidante. I didn’t recognize this calculating monster who had trapped me into complicity with murder. This was all supposed to be for my own good? I paced faster, agitated. Poor Steve, he was suffering through all of this alone, and he was innocent! I had to go see him. I accidentally slammed a door as I rushed to the kitchen to grab my keys. At the noise, Missy appeared at the top of the stairs.