Murder at the Clinic: A Midwest Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  “Mitzi, from everything I’ve heard about the man he’s as honorable as they come. I don’t know what kind of a relationship you have with him, but I really find it hard to believe he might do something like that. I remember when I told Blaine about hosting your wedding he said he was so glad because Rex talked about you in glowing terms all the time when they played golf. He said Rex was like a different man since you came into his life. He even told Blaine that for the first time in his life he knew what real happiness was. Mitzi, that does not sound like a man who’s going to break off an engagement.”

  “No, I suppose you’re right. I’m probably just being overly dramatic. Between you, Detective Shafer, Blaine, and Nick, I’m sure the murderer, if there is a murderer, will be caught. I just wish it was sooner rather than later. I’d prefer to have thoughts of a white wedding dress rather than an orange prison suit. Thanks for coming here and listening to me. I’m sure there are a lot of other things you could be doing, such as writing that book about me,” she said pointedly and then grinned.

  “Mitzi, how did you hear about that? I was going to surprise you. It just kind of got out of hand before I could tell you about it.”

  “I found out from Nick. I’m flattered you think my life is interesting enough to become the basis of a novel, but if you’re going to be able to predict the future, I’d prefer you made it one of happy things rather than murder.”

  “Mitzi, I can’t predict things. I have no idea how that happened. I’ve never predicted anything in my life. I was simply looking for some meat, as I call it, something to get people’s attention and make them want to continue reading the book, and that’s what my fingers wrote. I honestly don’t think my brain was engaged while I did it.”

  “Okay,” Mitzi said, “Get out of here and go write a book about me. I want it to be a best seller, but I don’t want any of your sexy steamy love scenes in it, although at this point I could probably use the diversion. Can you promise me that?”

  “Yes, that I can promise you. Talk to you later.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Dr. Nguyen remembered the email he’d received from his friend, Duc Trung, urging him to join him in Duc’s acupuncture practice in Hong Kong. He’d said how there had been a huge upsurge in traditional Chinese medicine and the fact that acupuncture had been practiced in China for 2,500 years gave it a great deal of credibility in Hong Kong.

  Duc had written that even though he, like Dr. Nguyen, had practiced acupuncture in Vietnam, he’d made more money in the first few months he’d been in Hong Kong than he’d made the whole time he’d practiced in Vietnam. He also said how much his family liked the cosmopolitan feel of Hong Kong as well as feeling safe rather than always worried that something might happen in a politicized Vietnam.

  Dr. Nguyen had written him back and explained he’d developed a good practice in the United States and was teaching acupuncture at a well-known university. He even mentioned he was being considered for a promotion to the position of Assistant Dean of the Department of Acupuncture and his only competition was a woman who had become an acupuncturist a few years ago.

  He’d received a scathing return email from Duc wondering how Binh could even consider taking a position where his competition was a female. He said he’d heard that over sixty percent of the students in acupuncture schools in the United States were women. He went on to say that although more women were now in the workforce in both Vietnam and Hong Kong, still a man with Dr. Nguyen’s experience would always be promoted over a woman and should be. He wondered why Dr. Nguyen would work for someone who would even consider promoting a woman over a man.

  Dr. Nguyen had written him back, explaining that even though he agreed with Duc, there were cultural differences involved. He told Duc he would think about his offer and asked him when he needed an answer.

  Dr. Trung had responded that he was getting Dr. Nguyen’s office ready, but there was no absolute deadline, because he knew eventually Binh would want to come to Hong Kong. Duc had also written that if it was him, and if Binh chose to stay in the United States, and he really wanted the job of assistant dean, he’d find a way to get rid of his female competition.

  Dr. Nguyen had sat at his desk in the clinic for a long time thinking about what Duc had written. If he were to discredit Dr. Green, what would be the best way to do it, without causing problems for him? He really did like living in the United States. His parents were elderly, and his father was in ill health in Vietnam, but Binh had no desire to go back there to live. He was glad to have escaped from under the heavy thumb of the Communists. The friends he corresponded with said they never knew from day to day whether they would be taken away by the government authorities on some trumped-up charge.

  If he did something to discredit Dr. Green, it would have to be done in such a way that he could never be suspected of doing it, and it would have to be something major in order to make Dr. Warren remove Dr. Green’s name from consideration.

  Binh began to pull up sites on the Internet dealing with acupuncture and toxicology until he found what he was looking for. He read it several times, knowing there was information in it that could discredit Dr. Green, but what was the best way to do it?

  He was deep in thought when his cell phone rang. It was his wife reminding him they were expected at his nephew’s birthday party in thirty minutes. She told him whatever he was doing it could wait, because he’d promised his nephew he would be there for his twenty-first birthday celebration. Binh had completely forgotten about it. He jumped up, grabbed his coat, locked the door, and hurried to his car.

  *****

  She noticed that the light was on in the doctors’ office at the clinic and used her key to get in. She walked into his office and saw he’d forgotten to turn off his computer. She sat down and read what was on the page he’d been reading, and then saw he’d also pulled up information on the acupuncture points that were most susceptible to poison. She took a flash drive out of her purse and downloaded the displayed information onto it. She turned off his computer, locked the door, and said a silent prayer of thanks that she’d driven by the clinic on her way home from the gym. This could very well solve the problem. Sometimes it seems things just fall into your hands for no reason at all and when they do, you have to be ready to take advantage of them.

  CHAPTER 22

  Kat looked at the monitor on her phone and saw that the call was from Mitzi.

  “Must be my lucky day, Mitzi. I’m hoping you have some thoughts on the book, and by the way, I really think there should be at least one steamy scene in the book that involves you. Who would ever know the main character in the book is you? I’ve given you a new name.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve been a little too busy talking to Detective Shafer to have any thoughts about the book. Let’s put that on hold for the time being.”

  “Did he stop by or call or what?” Kat asked. “Does he have any news about Sandy?”

  “He called. Yes, he did have news about Sandy, and I really don’t know where to go with it. He said that the coroner found a large concentration of Digoxin in Sandy’s body, and her case is definitely being treated as a murder. Are you familiar with that drug?”

  “No, I’ve never heard of it, but you’re the doctor, not me. Tell me about it.”

  “I vaguely remember studying about it in one of my courses when I was in acupuncture school,” Mitzi said. “I couldn’t remember exactly what it was, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. Here’s what they had to say about it, and I quote: ‘Digoxin toxicity may occur in individuals who take excessive amounts of the drug Digoxin in a short period of time or in individuals who accumulate high levels of digoxin during an ongoing chronic treatment. Digoxin (derived from foxglove plants of the genus Digitalis) is a medication prescribed for individuals with heart failure and/or atrial fibrillation.” She continued, “I also remember that it’s so potent it’s only used in emergency rooms in hospitals. Doctors don’t have it in their offices.”

  “Okay, but
I’m not tracking with you. Help me out. What did Detective Shafer have to say about it?”

  “He asked if I was familiar with the drug. I told him I vaguely remembered studying it, but no, I was not familiar with it. He asked if I had the drug here at the clinic, and I told him no.”

  “Well, if you don’t have the drug there, and from what I remember, they did a pretty thorough search of your office, doesn’t this mean that you’re no longer a suspect.”

  “Not really. He didn’t say it outright, but there was an underlying disbelief in his voice.”

  “Could Sandy have been taking the drug and accidentally overdosed on it, or do you think she was given an excessive amount by an unknown third party, in other words, murdered?”

  “There’s no reason for her to be taking it. Number one, no doctor in his right mind would prescribe that along with the blood pressure medication she was taking. That would produce a lethal soup in the body and almost certainly lead to death. Patients who are given Digoxin have heart failure and/or atrial fibrillation, and as far as I know, like I said earlier, it’s only used in critical situations like when a person needs it when they’re in the emergency room at a hospital. No, there’s no way she would have been prescribed the drug.”

  “Well, if the coroner’s findings are correct, someone got it and administered it to her. Is the coroner going to list that as the cause of death?”

  “Detective Shafer didn’t tell me that outright, but it was kind of implicit. Kat, this makes it ever so much more difficult to solve the mystery of who killed Sandy. I also looked up to see if an individual could purchase Digoxin without first getting a prescription from a doctor, and I found out it’s readily available online. I saw a bunch of sites where it’s available in Canada. Seems nuts to me because someone would need extensive medical knowledge to use it properly, and it is definitely not a drug that should be administered by a patient acting as an armchair doctor.”

  “What keeps going through my mind is how it was given to her,” Kat said. “If anyone can get it online by simply buying it in Canada, that’s one thing, but it’s a lot more difficult to figure out how someone gave it to her and why, unless murder was the intent.”

  “I feel certain she didn’t order it. She told me once she hated to take pills. She even said she’d walk around all day with a headache rather than take an aspirin. Sandy was not the type of person to buy and take that type of medication, and why would she? No, the use of Digoxin definitely speaks of murder, not suicide. There was absolutely no reason for her to voluntarily take that particular drug.”

  “Well, Mitzi, other than knowing that she died from it, we’re kind of back to square one. Who gave it to her? Seems like an endless loop.”

  “I agree. I just wanted to let you know the latest in the case. I’ve got several more hours of work here, and then I’m meeting Rex for dinner. He’s really worried about me and all of this business about Sandy’s death. I sure wish we could find the murderer and get this behind us. Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Kat spent the next hour making notes about her new book. She knew it was a dicey thing to do, because readers often wanted an author to continue writing in the same genre, particularly when they felt like they knew the characters that had been developed earlier in a series. To introduce them not only to a set of new characters, but also a completely different type of book, was a definite risk. She knew it could bomb, but she was at a point in her writing career where she was willing to take the risk. She sighed deeply, hoping the risk would be worth it.

  Time to fix the cold trout salad. Glad I thought to have it. It’s uncommonly warm for a late spring day, so it should be perfect.

  “Outside, guys,” she said to Jazz and Rudy. “I appreciate your help, but the last time I made it and walked into the kitchen, you, Rudy, had your paws on the counter, and were licking the skin of the trout. Don’t want to revisit that scene,” she said laughing as she shooed the two dogs out the screen door and told them to stay.

  She baked the trout, let it cool, prepared it for the salad, and then refrigerated it. She chopped the vegetables, and as she’d done numerous times before, wished once again she had a sous-chef to do all of her chopping. She assembled the salad and put it in the refrigerator to chill until it was time to serve dinner. She didn’t feel like making biscuits from scratch, so she took a tube of readymade biscuits from the refrigerator and placed them on a cookie sheet. Lastly she prepared a cantaloupe, blueberry, and strawberry salad, thinking she’d add a dollop of blueberry yoghurt on top when she served it.

  Just as she was finishing up, the doorbell rang. The dogs ran through the makeshift doggie door and waited for her to open the front door for Blaine. When she did, he walked in, kissed her, and petted each of the dogs.

  “Blaine, you’re the smart one here. Would you tell me how when the dogs are outside in the back yard they know that the ringing doorbell means you’re on the other side of the front door?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m the smart one, because you can hold your own with anyone, but I will say I have a theory. I’ve read that dogs have the capacity to hear two or three times better than humans. I think they know the sound of my car, and it registers with them that when that sound is heard, I’ll be here, and I’ll probably give them a scratch on the head or pet them.

  “It’s similar to the Pavlov conditioning thing. I’m sure you remember about it from a science class. It finally got to the point when Pavlov entered a room his dogs would start salivating. This isn’t all that different, since I’ve also been known to give Jazz and Rudy treats. I’ve heard it said that dogs can’t remember, and that’s why you shouldn’t scold a dog when you’re trying to housebreak them unless you catch them in the act. I don’t buy into that theory. I think they remember just about everything.”

  “I have to agree, but I think their sense of smell is just as acute. There’s no doubt in my mind that when I took some trout out of the refrigerator earlier today, Rudy’s memory of licking it the last time I made it kicked in. He and Jazz were outside, and he came running to the door the minute I took it out of the refrigerator. Don’t think that was happenstance.”

  “I agree, now are you going to offer me a glass of wine?”

  “I’ll do you one better. I’ve already opened a nice bottle of chardonnay, and it’s chilling in the refrigerator. I’ll let you pour while I get things ready for dinner. How’s that for service?” Kat asked.

  “Pretty good. I’m just hoping it doesn’t end when we get married.”

  “Think I can promise that,” Kat said grinning as she accepted a glass of wine from him. Just then Kat’s cell phone rang and she said, “Darn it, I wish people wouldn’t call at the dinner hour. Oh well, it’s your brother. I better take this call.”

  “Hi, Nick. Did you have a productive day? Find out anything that will help Mitzi and me? You did? Blaine’s here. I’m going to put you on speakerphone, so I don’t have to repeat what you tell me.”

  Nick proceeded to tell them about Sol and what he’d found out from Ronny and the cleaning lady.

  “Wow, so Sandy’s husband could possibly be having an affair with Dina, Rex’s ex-fiancée? That seems almost too coincidental, don’t you think?” Blaine asked.

  “Yes, it does, and I’m not sure where you want to go with all of this, Kat. It does seem that Dina might have had the ability to put Sandy’s blood pressure medicine in a substance that Sandy could have taken. Of course, if she did it with Matt’s help, that makes him an accessory to the murder. The problem is proving it.”

  “Nick, have you talked to Mitzi or the coroner this afternoon?” Kat asked.

  “No, why?”

  “Detective Shafer called her and told her that the coroner found large amounts of Digoxin in Sandy’s body, and that’s what killed her.”

  Blaine looked at Kat with raised eyebrows. After a moment Nick said, “That means she didn’t die from an overdose of blood pressure medica
tion, right?”

  “That’s pretty much what we understand. From the research Mitzi did after he called, the drug is used almost exclusively in emergency room situations in a hospital and wouldn’t have been given to Sandy as a prescription, however, it is for sale on the Internet,” Kat said.

  “Isn’t everything?” countered Nick. “Kat, where do you think that leaves us?”

  “I don’t know. Blaine, please feel free to chime in. Nick, what are your thoughts?”

  “I suppose Dina and/or Matt could have done it, but it doesn’t seem as likely given that she died from digoxin toxicity. The tablets or what form it was in could have been purchased over the Internet and somehow given to Sandy in a drink or in her food. I find that unlikely. The blood pressure medication seemed far more plausible to me,” Blaine said.

  “I agree,” Nick said, “but here’s something else I just received as a text from the man I have watching Matt Hendrick that I find very interesting. Matt left work, pulled into the driveway of a house that isn’t his, and then used a garage door opener and drove into the garage of this house. He put the door down as soon as his car was in the garage. The address is 473 East Mesa Drive. Ring a bell, Kat?”

  She thought for a moment and then gasped. “Isn’t that Rochelle Salazar’s address, the receptionist that works at the acupuncture clinic?”

  “Bingo, you win. Yes, so what do you make of that?” Nick asked.

  “Quite frankly, I have no idea. From what Sol said it sounds like Matt Hendrick is a serial skirt chaser, but with Rochelle? I wonder how they ever met? I need to ask Mitzi if he ever went to the clinic with Sandy. Maybe that’s how.”