“Specific.” With the toe of her tennis shoe, she sent a landscaping rock off the sidewalk and into its proper place under a bush.
“Ah, because of the error that sent Shirley to the hospital last Friday?” Nehemiah’s white brows lifted.
“That got me started. Some things that happened during the incident and some I found out about later don’t add up. Plus, Lucy Mae asked me to poke around a little. Apparently I have a bit of a reputation around town for asking questions.” They exchanged small smiles.
She and Nehemiah had strolled a few hundred feet from the building, and Kate turned to look up at the three-story structure that resembled an antebellum plantation home, except for the very modern-looking dining-room wing jutting from the back. She pointed toward the top floor. “I’ve never been up there. Is that where the administration offices are housed?”
Nehemiah nodded. “Sometimes I wonder if any of them have been on the resident floors. Well, except for the administrator and the personnel director. They make a point of being out and about fairly often. Evidently we keep the rest of the businesspeople so busy, they don’t feel the need to meet the residents face-to-face.” He chuckled.
“Hmm.” Kate chewed her lower lip. “Maybe that’s why I’d never seen her before.”
“Seen who?” Nehemiah led the way farther up the walk.
She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Sorry. My thoughts were galloping away with me. Let’s take a seat, and I’ll tell the tale.” She motioned toward a cement bench in the center of a U-shaped formation of shrubbery.
Kate settled onto the cool stone and curled her fingers around the scalloped edges. Her need to protect Nehemiah and the vulnerable residents at Orchard Hill warred with her determination to avoid casting suspicion on honest, dedicated workers.
The elderly gentleman sat beside her and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Now what’s got Kate in a tizzy?”
At least with Nehemiah, she could be confident about sharing her concerns in regard to the incident with Shirley Kraemer. In his years of pastoring, he’d proven himself to be the soul of discretion. It was good to know she had an ally at Orchard Hill she could completely trust.
In straightforward terms, with no embellishment or speculation, she explained everything she’d seen and heard on Friday. Then she moved on to what Lucy Mae told half of Copper Mill at the beauty parlor. “As far as this facility and the Lawtons are concerned, some new nurse made a negligent mistake. The circumstances make that appear to be the truth, but...”
“You’re not totally convinced that’s what happened.”
“I’m not saying the incident didn’t happen that way, but I have questions that need answers before I can feel at peace about it.”
The retired pastor frowned and scratched under his ear. “I can’t tell you what made your mystery lady and Nurse Pritchard behave the way they did. But I can say that I liked Carla Trexler. She’s the nurse who was dismissed for the error.”
“She was fired for sure then? Lucy Mae said Lawton was pushing for that to happen.” Under the circumstances, Kate wasn’t too surprised to hear that the administrators had made such a quick decision.
“That’s the scuttlebutt around here, and the sense I’ve picked up from staff is that the case looks pretty cut and dried that Carla’s solely at fault. I think a lot of the staff is happy that there won’t need to be a lengthy investigation by administration or the nursing board.”
Kate crossed her legs and wrapped her hands around her knees. “Tell me more about the young nurse.”
Nehemiah rippled his shoulders. “I don’t know much. I’ve heard her talk about a couple of young kids. I think she’s a single mom.”
Kate groaned. “And now to be accused of nearly killing a patient through negligence? Even if she’s guilty, that’s a rough deal.”
Nehemiah gave a slow nod. “Carla hadn’t been here long, but she was always kind to the residents. In fact, I never heard her say a cross word to her co-workers either. They seemed to like her too.”
“How about her professionalism and competence?”
“Never had reason to question them.”
Kate cast a glance upward at the administration floor. “You wouldn’t have a name for my mystery lady would you?”
“Sorry. Your description of her sounds like someone I’ve seen before, but we were never introduced. I could ask around.”
Kate brightened. “Would you?”
Nehemiah chuckled. “You know I’d do just about anything for Paul’s Katie girl. Anything else I can answer?”
Kate paused and arranged her thoughts. “Well, how about a blanket question. Can you think of any of the staff, or even the residents, who’ve been behaving...um, shall we say, a little out of the ordinary?”
Nehemiah slanted her a questioning look under lowered brows. “You mean, do we have any shady characters around here?”
Kate snorted a laugh. “I feel like I’m trying to fish without bait. I’m not even sure what questions to ask or what I’m looking for. Just something...anything that actually explains the serious situations people are facing.”
“Situations?” Nehemiah frowned. “We’ve only been talking about one incident.”
She shook her head. “There’s another incident involving someone else from Copper Mill, but I’m not free to talk about that. Yet, anyway. But like Mrs. Kraemer, who could have lost her life, this person could lose her livelihood.”
Nehemiah hefted a sigh. “Then I guess we’d better pray that the truth comes out.”
Kate took his hand. “Let’s do that.”
Together they bowed their heads, and Nehemiah petitioned the Almighty for wisdom and guidance for Kate. “And let no wickedness hide behind lies,” he continued. “Expose the truth and let righteousness prevail.”
Kate capped the prayer with a hearty amen.
Nehemiah rose and turned toward the facility. “Let’s wander back inside and grab a cup of joe. I’ll give your questions about the staff some thought and get back to you.”
Kate fell into step with the elderly gentleman. “Good. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open.”
A cool wind whipped Kate’s hair back from her face, and a shadow fell over them as a cloud moved across the sun. She shivered.
A HALF HOUR LATER, Kate and Nehemiah finished a snack in the dining room, in company with most of the other residents. Kate surveyed the area. She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary that afternoon. The service was as gracious as ever, and Friday’s incident didn’t seem to leave a pall over the residents’ spirits. They laughed and chattered.
Heavy footfalls announced the approach of the burly aide Kate had encountered on Friday. He strode past their table and headed for another one nearby, where Edith Naples sat with three other residents.
“It’s time for physical therapy, Mrs. N.” His loud voice blanketed the area, and conversation dimmed.
The elderly woman held up a half-eaten brownie. “But I’m not done with—”
“We’re on a schedule,” the man grated. “I’ll be back to get you in five minutes.”
“But—”
“Five minutes,” the man repeated and stalked off.
Kate looked toward Nehemiah. He pulled a long face and shrugged.
“Edie can be a handful, but Stephen forgets he’s not in the military anymore.”
Kate pondered this for a moment. “Yes, I noticed his gruffness on Friday, and the military references when he talked. How long has he worked here?”
“A few months.” Nehemiah took a sip of his coffee. “He’s not a bad guy if you overlook his rough edges. The other aides really appreciate his strength for some of the lifting and carrying.”
“I can imagine,” Kate said. “Oh, here’s Paul.” She waved toward the dining-room doorway.
Her husband came over and kissed her cheek, then took a seat beside her. “How goes the investigation?”
Kate wrinkled her no
se. “Turtle speed. How’s Mrs. Kraemer?”
“About the same with the heart arrhythmia. But she’s developed shingles as a reaction to one of the meds they’re using to treat that.”
“I’ve heard those can be painful,” Nehemiah said.
Paul nodded. “She didn’t look too comfortable when I talked to her.”
Kate gathered up her handbag. “I guess Lucy Mae wasn’t kidding when she said her mother is sensitive to medications. Well, y’all chat a minute. I need to pay a visit to the restroom before we head home.”
The men waved her off and were deep in conversation before she’d taken two steps. On the way to the ladies’ room, she passed the employee lounge. The door was open, and Stephen stood alone inside. He was guzzling from a glass with one hand, and with the other he held a small white pill bottle. The shape of the container resembled the brand of aspirin Kate had at home.
Maybe the aide’s grouchiness was due in part to aches and pains. Or maybe the volume of his own voice gave him a headache. He didn’t look around as she went by, and she didn’t see any need to draw attention to herself.
After her restroom stop, Kate headed for the nurses’ station. She was in luck. Nurse Pritchard was sitting behind the counter.
“Ye-es?” The woman looked up, and her expression changed from casual to intent. “Oh, it’s you.”
Kate’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”
The nurse rose. “What I mean is, I remember you trying to talk to me the other day, but I was a bit distracted.” Her eyes blinked rapidly a couple of times, and her cheeks lost color.
The woman was certainly nervous about what sounded like an offhanded attempt at an apology. Kate settled her arms on the counter but didn’t repeat her mistake of looking down toward whatever the nurse was doing.
“I’m Kate Hanlon. At the time, I only wanted to let you know that my husband had talked to Lucy Mae Briddle, Mrs. Kraemer’s daughter, and we were available to help out if needed. My husband is a pastor in Copper Mill, where Lucy Mae lives.”
“I see.” Nurse Pritchard tucked her chin. “Well, thank you for that. We were in something of a frenzy.”
Kate kept her tone light and friendly, in spite of the nurse’s off-putting manner. “I can certainly understand. I’m sure you deal with crises, big or little, almost every day, but it must be especially upsetting when it happens because a nurse seemingly made a mistake.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you getting your information?”
“Lucy Mae is upset.” Kate studied Nurse Pritchard’s face carefully as she spoke. A reaction could be as revealing as a statement. “She hasn’t exactly been keeping anything a secret around town.”
Nurse Pritchard’s plump cheeks flushed. “Mrs. Hanlon, I’d like to assure you that we don’t make mistakes like that on a regular basis. Our staff is—”
“I don’t think that at all.” Kate waved a dismissing hand. “We visit Nehemiah Jacobs a lot, and the care has always been exceptional. How do you think the mix-up happened?”
The nurse stiffened. “It’s not for me to say, but I was surprised who turned out to be at fault.”
Kate was surprised the nurse was offering any information at all. Maybe she was overly eager to win Kate’s favor after her rude behavior the other day? “Someone who’s not prone to errors?”
“Sharp as a tack and genuinely cared about the residents.” Nurse Pritchard shook her gray head. “We had high hopes for her.”
Kate fiddled with a pen on the counter but kept her eyes trained on Nurse Pritchard’s face. “You don’t think instructions for a different patient could have gotten into the wrong chart by mistake?”
The nurse stared at her with owl eyes. “It’s plain to see you don’t know much about charting or nursing procedures.”
Kate smiled and lifted both palms. “Definitely just a curious, untrained layperson.”
Pritchard’s expression softened a bit. “I’ll tell you this much. If something had gotten misfiled, any nurse would have caught it when she double- and triple-checked the patient name on the doctor’s orders before administering medication. We’re trained to do that each and every time. But the truth of the matter is, there was no such order in the file.”
“But why would a nurse, even a new one, give a medication without a doctor’s order?” Kate crossed her arms on the counter. “I can’t understand that.”
“I’m leaving that question to the investigators from the Board of Nursing.” Pritchard leaned closer to Kate. “Let me assure you that we handle our patient charts with the utmost care and confidentiality.”
“I can believe that.” Kate nodded. “In fact, I want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” The woman straightened.
“Yes.” Kate sent her a gentle smile. “When I approached the station the other day, I must have given you the impression I meant to snoop in a chart that was lying on the desk. You scooped it up and took it with you.”
“You’re mistaken.” Pritchard drew back, nostrils flaring. “I never removed a chart from this station. I don’t know what you dreamed you saw, Mrs. Hanlon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a busy woman.” She whirled and strode off, beefy arms swinging.
Kate watched her go, pulse whooshing in her ears. Nurse Pritchard had just told her a bald-faced lie. Why would she do that unless she had something to hide?
Chapter Nine
Up in Nehemiah’s apartment, Kate punched in the number she’d found in the phone book for Carla Trexler, the young nurse who was dismissed for the error. Paul and the retired pastor waited on the living-room sofa across from her, gazes expectant. When she’d told them she thought her next best step was to talk to Carla, they’d agreed wholeheartedly.
Kate tapped her foot on the carpet as the phone rang several times.
“Hello?” A breathy female voice came on the line.
“Carla Trexler?”
Silence fell for a few seconds. “Yes. This is she.” The words came out guarded, as if she suspected she might be talking to a telemarketer.
“This is Kate Hanlon. My husband Paul and I are good friends of Nehemiah Jacobs.”
“Nehemiah?” Her voice turned enthusiastic. “He’s a great guy. How is he doing?”
“Wonderful. We’re here with him right now. In fact, we were visiting him at Orchard Hill on Friday when that unfortunate incident happened with Shirley Kraemer. With your permission, Paul and I would like to come over and talk to you about that.”
“Talk to me?” The tone darkened. “Why?”
“Because Nehemiah thinks quite highly of you, and so we’d like to hear your side of the story.” Kate hoped the appeal of a sympathetic ear would sway the young woman.
A thud sounded in the background, followed by a child’s laughter. “Stop jumping on the furniture, young man.” The words were muffled, as if Carla had placed her hand over the receiver. “Why should I talk to you?” Those words were not muffled and came with an angry edge. “I’ve lost my job, and I don’t see how answering some stranger’s questions will help.”
“I don’t know for sure either, Carla.” Kate loaded her words with warmth and calm. “But I’m a friend of people who are affected by this incident. We all want to know what really happened. This is an opportunity for you to speak for yourself.”
The line went quiet except for continued evidence of childish activity in the background. Kate exchanged glances with Paul.
“Come on over then,” Carla said. “But don’t expect any magic answers from me. I’m as confused about this as anyone.”
ON THE WAY TO CARLA’S, Kate told Paul about the charge nurse denying that she took the chart from the nurses’ station.
“People lie for a lot of reasons,” he answered with a shake of the head. “It’s hard to say if her denial has anything to do with the medication error.”
Kate nodded. “Especially when I can’t be positive that the chart was Shirley Kraemer’s. I looked on the resident roster at Or
chard Hill, and there are two other residents whose names begin with S and end with R—Sarah Sumpter and Stanley Grover.”
Paul hummed. “Too bad. That certainly muddies the waters.”
“A little, but I still wonder if it wasn’t Mrs. Kraemer’s chart. It makes sense that hers is the record that would be out during the crisis.”
“Sounds logical.” Her husband nodded. “But still not conclusive.”
“Unfortunately.”
Kate fell silent as she frowned out the window at the passing cityscape. Questions and possibilities tumbled over in her mind. If Nurse Pritchard was willing to lie about handling the chart, would she also be willing to tamper with it? Did Carla’s claim about a missing medication order have substance? Orchard Hill and the Board of Nursing could be investigating the wrong nurse. But what if, as Paul suggested, the woman had an entirely unrelated reason for telling a fib. The human heart could follow some pretty twisted reasoning at times.
What kind of heart did Carla Trexler have? Was she a person who would take responsibility for her mistakes? Or would she do anything—even concoct stories out of thin air—to cover them up? Only this story wasn’t serving her very well. If anything, it was making her look foolish as well as guilty. Wasn’t that some sort of argument for the possibility that she might be telling the truth?
The young woman lived in a neighborhood of Chattanooga that Kate’s mother would have called “shabby genteel.” Kate and Paul drove by older homes with pillared porches that had once been elegant but now sported peeling paint and sagging steps. Carla’s apartment building was fairly new, but no frills. Just a five-floor rectangle covered in beige siding with individual air-conditioning units jutting from every other window.
Paul by her side, Kate knocked on the door to number 309. The portal opened to the end of its chain, and a pair of milk-chocolate eyes looked out at them from a heart-shaped face framed by long brown hair. The door closed again, the chain rattled, and then the door opened wide.
“Come in.” Carla tilted her head toward a living room strewn with toys. A slender young woman of medium height, she wore jeans and a T-shirt with the words “Best Mommy” stenciled on it next to a child’s handprint.
Off the Record Page 5