“Good morning,” he called out. “I hope I’m not intrudin’.”
“Not at all.” Barkha stood. She also touched her hair, then stopped like she’d just remembered her long dark locks were swept back into a ponytail. “Have you heard anything more about the breakin?”
Jerry climbed the steps and joined us on the porch, his height dwarfing Barkha’s smaller frame. “Not officially. But Dr. Bradley’s cause of death will soon be out, so that’s why I’m here.”
Barkha gestured to the last empty chair, her movements as if someone controlled her arms with marionette strings. “I’ll try to help. If I can.”
Jerry eased onto the wicker chair. “We believe someone was in Dr. Bradley’s office with him the night of the breakin.” He flicked a glance in my direction, then back at Barkha. His eyes followed her movement as she sat down.
“So you think whoever broke in surprised him? Why would they break in if they saw lights on and his vehicle in the parking lot?”
He looked at her levelly. “Doctor, can you think of anyone who might have wanted Dr. Bradley dead?”
The breeze slapped at the Bible pages once more, so Barkha reached over and closed it. “I’m not sure. He wasn’t known for his endearing personality, but no mistake about it, Hiram was a good doctor.”
My mind rewound itself to the day that Diana and I had found Barkha at Oat Grass, the day of the breakin, and she and Dr. Bradley had been having a rather heated conversation. I didn’t want to think Barkha had a reason to silence Dr. Bradley.
“Andi?” Jerry’s voice snapped me back to the conversation. “What do you think?”
Of course, he wouldn’t volunteer any new information, but wanted to know if I had any flashes of inspiration. “I don’t know. Like you said, his acid tongue wasn’t a reason to kill him. Maybe Eunice would know something.”
“That’s true.” Barkha stared out across the small yard to the grove of peach trees that separated her home from the road. A wisp of ink-dark hair wafted across one cheek. “Hiram and I didn’t interact other than professionally. So long as I kept seeing patients and backing him up when his schedule filled, he was happy. There were occasional problem patients, though, and his chart notes gave me clear warning when I saw them.”
“What do you mean, problem patients?” Jerry’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair.
“Oh, there are always patients who come in and complain about their medical issues, and yet won’t take his advice. Or the ones who aren’t always honest about why they come to the doctor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone might come in and tell us that his knee hurts, that he injured it playing tennis, for example. And he might specifically request Vicodin, a ninety-day supply.”
“That’s a strong narcotic,” Jerry observed.
“You’re right. For short-term pain, it’s very effective. However, it also has a strong addictive potential. So we talk to the patient a little bit more, and find out he has another chronic medical problem like a bad back, or even a lingering knee injury. We might eventually discover that he’s started going from doctor to doctor, town to town, so he can get his Vicodin because the original treating physician has refused to refill his prescription anymore.” Barkha looked thoughtful. “There are a few patients who’ve been released from medical care by Dr. Bradley because of their drug-seeking behavior.”
“What does that mean, exactly, released from care?” asked Jerry.
“That he politely told them to see someone else for their medical care. Once someone abused his caring side, Hiram didn’t give many second chances.”
“What about you?” Jerry’s blue eyes, so much like Ben’s, kept searching Barkha’s face.
She matched his gaze with her own. “I would much rather help someone overcome their dependence than turn them away. If it means writing a prescription for a few pills at a time, I’ll do that. I believe in grace.”
Jerry nodded. “I can believe that.” Then, he released a slow sigh before continuing. “Where were you last night between six and eleven?”
“Jerry—” I cut in.
“It’s okay, Andi.” Barkha’s voice held no quaver or hesitation. “I came home after finishing work about six, had leftovers for supper. I tried reading for a while, but I had a lot on my mind. So I went for a drive. I made it almost all the way to Jackson, stopped for ice cream, then drove back to Greenburg. That’s when I passed the medical building and saw the lights still on. The rest, you know.”
“Do you have a receipt from wherever you bought the ice cream?”
“I’m … I’m not sure.” Barkha looked down at her hands, slim yet strong and capable. “I might have it in the car. I don’t remember if they gave me a receipt.”
Barkha, a suspect? Ridiculous. I tried not to glare at Jerry. He was only doing his job, and he couldn’t meet her eyes when he asked the question. Little lines in the corner of his eyes told of his lack of sleep since the breakin.
“I’m sorry, doctor. I had to ask. I’m going to talk to Eunice and Franklin Bradley about their whereabouts, too. It’s routine.” His pager started beeping on his hip. Jerry glanced at the pager as he stood. “You’ve been helpful. I may need access to records of some individuals of interest if and when those arise from the investigation.”
Barkha nodded. “If they have any bearing on the case, then I’m sure the records will be available to you. I’ve got to answer to HIPAA.”
I might as well have been the proverbial fly on the wall, so I stood to leave.
“I’m off to the store. Barkha, if you need to, call me later? Okay?”
She nodded but kept her focus on Jerry. Had she really heard me? Something bothered me about her remarks on why she’d come to Greenburg. But prying any secrets from her might be like trying to squeeze water from a rock.
Chapter Six
As it often happens in life, the rest of the morning went as planned until I congratulated myself. After a bus tour group had piled back on their chartered bus and headed on the road to Nashville, I looked at my sales floor, the soaps in disarray.
I moved to the nearest display of Cherries Jubilee to move the wayward Peachy Keen bath salts back to their shelf. My cell phone rang. I checked the display. Bradley Medical.
Eunice didn’t even wait for me to finish saying my hello. “Oh, Andi. I need your help. I don’t know who else to ask. Dr. Bradley’s nephew says I need to start getting his uncle’s office cleaned up and cleared out. And I just can’t bear to do it on my own. There’s just so much …” Her voice broke. I heard another phone line ring in the background.
I never signed on for this. I’d only wanted to bring in some extra money by typing at home and have a chance to keep Hannah with me while I worked. But I imagined Eunice trying to sift through the contents of Dr. Bradley’s office, and then dissolving into a puddle of tears. Alone.
“I suppose I can take an hour today.”
“Oh. I was really hoping you could stay longer. I planned to order some box lunches from Oat Grass. In honor of Dr. Bradley, you know.”
Sounded like someone else had made some plans too. “I’m afraid today isn’t the best day. But I can come for an hour. My daughter’s at my momma’s right now, and I don’t want her to run Momma down too much.”
“Well, okay, then.” Her sigh sounded like a deflating balloon. “I’ll see you soon.”
I dragged my sour mood all the way to the nearly empty parking lot of Bradley Medical. Ben had said I didn’t need to do any sleuthing about Dr. Bradley’s death. True, I didn’t need to. But if I found something interesting in the course of going through Dr. Bradley’s office, I could pass it along to Jerry.
When I entered the reception area of the medical offices, the smell of furniture polish smacked me with a lemony punch. The vacuum cleaner’s cord coiled like a snake and made a trail across the Berber carpet. I stepped over it to reach the source of the pungent scent.
“I’m here. Eunic
e.” A wave of lemon scent nearly knocked me off my feet as I went into Dr. Bradley’s private office. “You didn’t lock the front door.”
She was hunched over, polishing the walnut credenza. “Nobody’s coming back to get us, The good doctor’s gone, and the place was already robbed once.”
“What’s going to happen to the practice now? Have you heard anything about a will?” I wandered over to Dr. Bradley’s desk. A few medical charts remained stacked by his computer. Those definitely needed to be filed.
“Oh, yes, the will.” Eunice flushed. “Dr. Bradley left Franklin his share of the practice. Plus a tidy little cash fund. And he left me seventy-five thousand dollars.”
“Wow.” I sat down on his desk chair and shivered. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice of seat. “Did Dr. Bradley’s lawyer already have the reading of the will? Or is it a little soon for that?”
Eunice moved to the bookcase and started dusting. I couldn’t see any dust, but if the woman wanted to work off her nervous energy, I wasn’t about to stop her.
“Hiram—Dr. Bradley—always kept a copy of his will in his personal files. I’m not sure if he knew I’d seen it.” She leaned her magenta head against the edge of the tallest shelf. “I didn’t know he cared enough to leave me anything …”
Maybe he had, or maybe he hadn’t. But I wasn’t about to delve into that subject further and disappoint her. All I could see was a man who’d built plenty of walls around himself and no one could get in. Not even the receptionist who’d faithfully served him for over twenty years. Did he realize how much she cared for him? Could he only respond by giving her money … after his demise?
“He didn’t seem very demonstrative in life,” I ventured. The understatement made me want to laugh.
“Oh, yes, I think he could have been. He just felt things too deeply for words or actions.” Eunice resumed her dusting. She paused long enough to run her fingers over the spines of the medical books. “I wonder what’s going to happen to all of his books.”
“Maybe we’d better find out from Franklin.” I couldn’t imagine the guy with the tousled blond hair, surly expression, and slacker wardrobe running a medical practice. For one thing, he’d need another doctor because the caseload was too much for one.
“Franklin seems far too young to know what to do with all of this.” She gestured to the room. “Hiram put many instructions in his will that had to do with the practice, but I really didn’t pay attention to those. Except that I’d still have a job. But if Franklin decides to close the business …”
I nodded. “Well, I think the best thing to do is get this place straight and ready for whatever comes next.”
“Frank certainly won’t pitch in and help. He hasn’t been by here at all since he came to talk to the chief. All he did was call the office and tell me to get the place in shape, and that he knew his uncle had decades of clutter for me to sift through.”
I glanced at my watch. Only forty-five minutes before I had to pick up Hannah. “Tell you what. We can do surface things today. I think if there’s decades of clutter, then that clutter can wait a while longer. Maybe we can do a fund-raiser if we sell off his books or something. I don’t know.”
“You’re so smart. You always know what to do.”
“I’m just trying to help.” I stuck a few stray pens into the pencil jar on the desk. “By the way, I don’t know if you heard in the news about Dr. Bradley’s death now being considered suspicious?”
Eunice sighed, and moved to one of the other office chairs. “Yes. It was in the paper. I don’t know how the police figure out some of the things they do. But they must have a good reason. I just can’t bear the thought of someone hating Hiram enough to hurt him.”
“Can you think of anyone who might?”
“He certainly rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, and some people complained about him. There are few folders of information in his desk. But those are gone now, I’m sure.”
“I wonder if they contain anything that could shed light on anyone who’d have a motive for getting rid of the doctor.”
“I might not be the smartest woman in the world, but if they don’t even have a cause of death yet, I don’t see how they’ll be able to pin this on anybody.” Eunice dabbed at a tear.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t you worry about it.” She rose from the chair and headed toward the doorway. “I’m done dusting in here. I could do Dr. M’s office, but she’s probably already done it. The woman is so organized.”
“I’ll check the bathroom and see if it needs spiffing up.” Bravery oozed from my pores and made me fly with the moment. Since Dr. Bradley’s secrets were waiting to be revealed, what could be more personal than someone’s private restroom? I stepped behind the desk and headed into the bathroom.
The ceiling, walls, and floor gleamed an austere white, as did the white pedestal sink, porcelain commode, and white marble walk-in shower. Too modern for me, but the man had had good taste. Thick plush towels of black cotton hung from a chrome towel bar. I checked inside a small cabinet next to the sink. Hair brush, toothbrush, toothpaste. A spare roll of TP. A small bottle of hand soap. I imagined Momma’s reaction if I ever told her about this bit of snoopery. Andromeda Hartley, rummaging through a dead man’s medicine cabinet? That just isn’t right.
Ignoring the inner voice that sounded like Momma, I found a closet door behind the entry door, and opened it. Empty. A silvery gleam on the floor caught my eye, so I reached for it and picked it up. Eunice had dropped one of her precious earrings, but the backing had broken off. Sterling silver. Expensive. Eunice would be disappointed. How had the police missed this? Unless they’d only been interested in the files and his main office.
I left the bathroom and glanced at my watch. Other than the wayward earring, nothing seemed amiss in the bathroom. I reentered the office and heard Eunice humming in the kitchen.
“Would you look what I found?” Eunice stood on a stool and held a large box.
“What’s in there?” I placed the earring on the kitchen counter, and reached for the box emblazoned with a picture of a mug of hot chocolate with mountains in the background. I plopped the box onto the counter.
“Packets of hot chocolate.” Eunice climbed down from the stepladder and placed the box on the counter. “He … he loved to guzzle the stuff in winter.”
A man with a sweet tooth. Peach baby food in the summer, and hot chocolate in the winter. Too bad all that sugar didn’t sweeten his temperament more.
“Oh. I found this in the bathroom.” I swiped the broken earring from the counter. It caught the light from the window.
“That’s not mine,” Eunice answered quickly. “It’s silver. I don’t wear silver. Clashes with my watch.”
“I found it on the bathroom floor. I just assumed it was yours.”
“No. I’ve never seen that style before. She’s got good taste, though, whoever that belonged to. I’d like that if it came in gold.” Eunice turned the earring over and looked at where the back had snapped off before tossing it in the trash.
“How do you think a woman’s earring got into Dr. Bradley’s private bathroom, especially if the earring’s not yours?” I doubted the truth the Eunice’s response. Nothing wrong with using his bathroom. Not like I would have, or anything. But if Eunice felt confident enough to snoop through his files, maybe the bathroom wasn’t off limits either.
“I have no idea.” Eunice flushed. “I didn’t know much about his personal life.”
“I should mention this to Chief Hartley. Which means I should probably get that poor earring back.” I went to the trash can and fished out the earring.
“That earring could have been there a long time.”
“True, but I’m not going to just toss it out.”
Eunice frowned. “I don’t see how that can help the police.”
“Maybe there’s DNA on it or something.”
At that, Eunice picked up the box of
hot chocolate packets. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Evidently I’d hit a nerve. If she had feelings for Dr. Bradley, she’d probably be jealous at the thought of another woman in his inner sanctum.
I changed the subject. “The kitchen’s not too bad.” I surveyed the small kitchen with its dinette table, sink, refrigerator and sink.
“I already cleaned out the fridge. What a mess.” Eunice shook her head. “Too many old takeout boxes.”
“Well, I really ought thought I’d empty the trash from Dr. Bradley’s office. Then I’ve got to go.”
She looked a bit disappointed, and I knew she really wanted me to stay and just talk. “I understand.”
“But I’ll be back. I can help you with his desk.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your help more than you know.” The phone began to ring. Eunice set the box back down. “See, probably another patient wanting to know what to do about her appointment. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
We went back to the waiting room where Eunice went behind the counter.
“You’re doing a great job here. Not everyone could handle Dr. Bradley, and you did that well.” I went to retrieve the kitchen trash can. “That’s why I liked just passing through here.”
“He liked you, you know,” she called from the main area. The phone stopped ringing.
I almost dropped the trash can, but managed to carry it to the back hallway. “Are you serious?”
Eunice nodded. “He told me so one night. Said you did your job well, and no one could tell you hadn’t had formal medical language training. He admired your work ethic, first with the soap business, and then making baby food from scratch. He said that you wouldn’t bend to people in this town.”
“Wow.” How the man knew me like that, I’d never know. And I’d ignore the backhanded complement about my lack of formal training. He snacked on my baby food and liked my work.
Unbidden tears gathered in my eyes. “I’ll take the trash out back.”
I lugged the trash back down the short hallway and out the back door behind the building. Heat shimmered outside. Other than parking out back sometimes, the medical workers tried to avoid the back lot. It needed patching, and straggly weeds liked to find their way through the cracks in the pavement. Kids used the parking lot as a shortcut to head to the convenience store on the corner.
The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) Page 6