The other woman nodded and offered her a smile. Autumn grinned back at her. She was getting good at remembering names.
Asheville Meadows was a small facility, but comfortable. From everything Autumn had seen, the staff cared about their jobs, and everyone was treated well. She always enjoyed visiting, but at the same time, it often saddened her. She was one of the few people who visited regularly. Some of the people who lived there had families that only visited on the holidays, and others didn’t even have that.
Over the past couple of years, she had grown familiar with both the staff and the residents. Sometimes it is a difficult community to be a part of. Whenever she saw a new face, she knew that it meant that one of the old residents was no longer there. Occasionally they left to move in with family, but most of the time their absence meant that they had passed away. She admired the staff for having the emotional stamina to continue working there, after losing people repeatedly.
She saw her uncle was on his way back, and rose from her seat in case he needed help. He didn’t; he had had decades to get used to moving around on crutches. He settled into a chair next to the one that she had sat in and let out a sigh as he leaned his crutches against the arm.
“You’re in luck. We have creamy chicken casserole tonight. One of my favorite meals. Cook Benson said that there’s plenty for visitors. You are welcome to stay if you would like. You know your aunt and I are always happy to have you here.”
“Thanks, Uncle Albert,” she said. “It will be nice to have some company for dinner tonight.”
“You know I am thrilled to have you visit, but I have a feeling that there is more behind this than just wanting to see us again. Did something happen?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m losing my job. The grocery store is closing, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She leaned her head back against the chair and sighed. “And Brandon ended things.”
“I’m sorry,” her uncle said. “I liked him. But it’s better to be alone than to be with someone who’s not right for you.”
“I know that in my mind,” she said. “But it’s a lot more difficult to make my heart understand.”
“Your heart will catch up,” he said, patting her arm. “And don’t worry about your job. I’m sure there’s plenty of other things out there for a bright young woman like you.”
She smiled. “Thirty-five – almost thirty-six – isn’t exactly what I would call being a young woman.”
“You’re forty years younger than me. I’m going to keep on calling you a young woman. Have you looked into working anywhere else yet?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I just found out at the beginning of my shift. It’s closing at the end of January, so I have some time. I don’t even know where to begin looking if I’m being honest. This is a small town. Most of the jobs that will be hiring in the middle of winter are part-time, for little pay. I would have to take two or three just to support myself.”
“What about that big store that opened a few months ago? They must be hiring.”
She made a face. “I’m not going to work for the One-Stop Supermarket. They are the reason Green River Grocery is closing down. I’ll find something else, or I’ll just work multiple jobs.”
“If you need to move for work, you do that. Don’t worry about me and your aunt. We’re fine here.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she said. “Asheville is my home. I have friends here, and you guys, and I don’t want to start over.”
“I’m just saying, if you do, don’t worry about us.”
“Thanks, Uncle Albert,” she said. “It looks like Aunt Lucy’s done with the doctor. I’ll help her over.”
She rose and walked over to her aunt, who is being pushed along in her wheelchair by one of the staff. She took over, wheeling her towards where her uncle was sitting. They had almost made it when she heard a loud clattering come from the kitchen. There was shouting; it sounded like someone was in trouble. Quickly putting the wheelchair’s brakes on, she turned and ran towards the sound.
She stumbled to a halt at the door to the kitchen. Pots and pans were everywhere; steaming food was splattered across the floor. Lying in the middle of the kitchen was a man who was wearing an apron and a white cook’s hat. Cook Benson. She had first met him six months before.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” wailed one of the staff members who was kneeling beside him. “He clutched his throat and then just collapsed. He isn’t breathing. Oh, my goodness.”
The other woman was giving the man CPR, but he didn’t seem to be responding. Autumn could hear someone behind her on the phone, talking frantically to the emergency dispatcher. She stared down at the cook, feeling helpless. His face, she noticed, was red and blotchy, and there were hives on his neck. Had he come into contact with something he was allergic to?
“EpiPen?” she suggested, too quietly. Clearing her throat, she repeated the word, more loudly. The woman who wasn’t giving him CPR looked up at her. Something seemed to connect in her mind, and she got up and began patting his pockets. Autumn saw a jacket hanging on the other side of the room and hurried toward it. A quick search of the pockets, and she found the box that the epinephrine injection should have been in. She opened it. It was empty.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
Autumn stood in the corner of the dining room, watching in equal parts horror and fascination as the police and paramedics swarmed in the kitchen. The paramedics were hurrying to try to stabilize the poor man, but she thought it was already too late. He hadn’t been breathing for the entire time that it took the ambulance to get there. He hadn’t responded to CPR, at least not as far as she could see. The entire assisted living home was in chaos. One of the nurses was crying. The doctor on staff was arguing angrily with a police officer, who was trying to calm her down.
Autumn was in shock. She had never witnessed anything like this before. It was an emergency – a true emergency – and she had frozen up uselessly. But what could I have done? she wondered. Certainly no more than the staff that was trained in first aid.
She heard someone bark an order, and officers cleared a path to the dining room. The paramedics rolled out a stretcher with a shrouded form on it. She looked away. She couldn’t believe that she had just witnessed someone’s death.
“Ma’am?” someone said. “Pardon me, but I need to take your statement.”
She turned to find a young officer standing at her shoulder. He had a pen and a pad of paper out. He was a good fifteen years younger than her, probably just out of the academy. He was nervous, and she felt bad for him.
“What you need to know?” she asked.
“Just tell me what happened. Anything you can remember. And, um, I’ll also need your phone number and to see your ID, in case we need to contact you again.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. When she opened them, she started from the beginning.
She stayed at the assisted living home for another hour, making sure that her aunt and uncle were settled in their room before she left. The police and paramedics had gone already, and the mood in the building was subdued. She put on her coat and grabbed her purse, feeling tired and saddened, and in need of a warm bath. With dinner wrecked and the kitchen a crime scene, the home was ordering pizza for the residents, but she wasn’t staying for that. The last few days had been too much for her. She wanted to go hide in her house, and not come out until things were better.
“The keys weren’t there, I swear,” she heard a woman say. She paused, feet away from the open door that led to the administrative office. It had the sound of a private conversation, but she couldn’t seem to help herself from eavesdropping.
“Justine, the keys are right there, where they always are,” a male voice said. “I’m sorry. I know that it was an emergency, and you probably just overlooked them, but it cost a man his life. I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Please, Nick, I moved to this town for this job. I love what I do. I take great care of everyone here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and to Autumn’s ears, he sounded like he really was. “But I have to think of our residents. What if this was one of them? What happened to Benson was horrible, but we have emergencies almost every week. People go into cardiac arrest, they have strokes, they take falls, and for that we need someone who can keep their mind in an emergency. I know you must feel horrible about this, but I just can’t let you keep working here. I’m going to put you on administrative leave with pay until after Christmas. We’ll see what the police investigation turns up. But unless they find something that overturns the evidence in front of my eyes, I just can’t have you here anymore.”
The woman let out a sob, and Autumn stepped back quickly as she rushed out the door. She recognized the doctor; she had been arguing with one of the officers earlier. Justine didn’t even glance at her as she rushed towards the front door, trying desperately to keep her composure until she was outside.
“Can I help you?” a tired voice asked. She looked up to see the director of the assisted living home, Nicholas Holt. He ran his hand across his face, sighing. He looked exhausted.
“Sorry, no, I was just on the way out.”
“Autumn, isn’t it? You’re related to the Ottos?”
“Yes, I’m their niece,” she said.
“Were you here when the cook collapsed?”
She nodded. “It was horrible. I wanted to help somehow, but there wasn’t anything I could do.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
She hesitated, thinking of the familiar comfort of her house, but then agreed. She followed him into the office, where he shut the door behind him.
“I already gave my statement to the police,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry, but I just want to ask you something.” His eyes darted to the wall behind her. She turned and saw a row of hooks, from which hung various keys.
“What is it?” she asked.
“As I’m sure you know, he wasn’t carrying his EpiPen with him,” he said. “We have epinephrine here that is prescribed to some of our other residents. Of course, it is against policy to give a prescription to someone it doesn’t belong to, but in this case, the use of someone else’s EpiPen would’ve saved his life. We keep the drugs in the medicine closet, and the key stays in here. When I came in here after the police left, I found the key to the medical supply closet hanging where it always is, but Justine swore to me and the police that when she went to find the keys, they were missing. I was just wondering if you saw her at all during what happened, and if you might remember what she was doing.”
“I don’t think I saw her,” she said. “I know that she was visiting with my aunt right before this happened, but I don’t know what she did when the cook collapsed. I wish I could help you more. Everything just happened so quickly, it’s all a blur. Why? Do you think she was lying about the key?”
“I don’t know if she was lying, but I do know that she was mistaken. The key is hanging right there. When she told me what happened, I thought they might have been stolen and I rushed over, but here it was.” He shook his head. “I almost wish that she was right, that someone had stolen the key, because the alternative is that she killed a man because she panicked.”
Autumn stared at him. He shouldn’t be telling her this. He hardly knew her, but she understood that he was in shock too. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could say something that might clear matters up, but I can’t. I did see her arguing with one of the police officers earlier, but I don’t know what she was doing before that.”
“Unfortunately for her, there will be an investigation. She’s only worked here for about a year. I personally don’t think she meant to do anything wrong, and I hate to see her go through a criminal investigation right after all of this, but there’s no way around it. I have to do what is right by my residents, and if she loses her mind in a situation like this, then she’s not the right person to work here. We’ll have to find another doctor. I can’t take the chance of this happening again, and risk someone else suffering for it.” He gave her a tight smile. “Sorry. I’m sure you want to get out of here. I guess I just needed someone to talk to. Don’t mention what I said about Justine, okay? She’s going to have a hard enough time as it is, without any rumors being spread around town.”
“Of course,” Autumn said. “I won’t say anything. I hope you get everything figured out. For what it’s worth, this place has been great for my aunt and uncle.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You don’t know what that means to me. I started working here because I wanted to make a difference. I’ve seen what happens in some homes that aren’t run correctly, and it’s not pretty. We may not be a huge facility, but I try hard to make sure that everyone gets good care, and that we have employees that are passionate about what they’re doing. Feel free to come see me if you ever have any complaints, or just want to talk.”
She let herself out of the room, thinking about what he had said. It hadn’t crossed her mind until now that the cook’s death might not have been an accident. Now, as she thought of the empty EpiPen case, she began to wonder. It didn’t make sense that he would carry the empty case around with him without getting a refill. Had someone stolen his prescription from him just before he died?
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
After the worst weekend of her life, Autumn was still feeling down Monday morning. She had to be at the grocery store by ten, but part of her wondered, what was the point? Maybe she should just quit now, and use the next month to job hunt.
She knew that she would never do that, though. Jeb was a good man, and she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t know how she would face the employees that morning. Should she tell them before Christmas or not? Witnessing the cook’s death the day before had chased that predicament from her mind, but now it was back full force. She didn’t know which choice was the right one. To tell them, or not to tell them?
She decided not to mention it that day. Looking at the cheery faces of her employees, it was hard to even think of breaking the news to them. She could always tell them tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, and let them enjoy the coming holiday season for as long as they could. She didn’t want to burden anyone else with the knowledge that she had, not until she had to.
After work, she drove straight to Asheville’s one coffee shop, the Cocoa and Coffee Café, where she was supposed to meet her best friend, Alicia. Alicia had worked at the store with Autumn, but had left the year before after she had gotten married. She had started working out of her home, making and selling jewelry, and hoping for a baby, a life that Autumn envied. Alicia was a perpetually cheery person, always optimistic, and she was just who Autumn wanted to talk to. If anyone would have answers to her problems, it would be her.
The snow had continued overnight, but had stopped early that morning. The roads in town had all been plowed and salted, and she winced as the car in front of her made slush splatter onto her windshield. She would have to take the vehicle through the car wash sometime that week. All of the salt on the Michigan roads in winter was terrible for vehicles. She had already found two small rust spots on her car, and didn’t want to find anymore.
She pulled in the parking lot and shut off her engine, grabbing her purse off of the passenger seat before getting out. It was a cold day, but not windy. The coffee shop had Christmas lights up and in the window hung a banner that wished passers-by a happy holiday. The sight of the decorations helped cheer her up a little. She had always loved the entire Christmas season, though once the holiday was over, she knew that the rest of winter would be a long, dreary wait until spring.
Alicia was already there, sipping a coffee and scrolling through her phone. Autumn ordered a peppermint mocha at the counter, then walked over and joined her friend.
“There you are,” Alicia said, looking up and beaming at her. “I
didn’t even see you walk in.”
“Have you been here for long?”
“Not too long,” she said. “I was expecting the roads to be worse, so I got here early. How are you? On the phone, you sounded like you had something on your mind. Did Brandon finally pop the question?” She peered at Autumn’s hand, looking for a ring.
“No,” she replied, sighing. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. He dumped me.”
“No.” Alicia stared at her. “What happened? I thought the two of you were doing well.”
“I thought so too,” she said. “It turns out, we weren’t. He gave me the whole, it’s not you it’s me speech, and said he wanted to be friends, but that’s all.”
“He’s a jerk,” her friend said decisively.
Small Town Murder Page 2