African Violet Club Mystery Collection

by Elise M Stone

  “I told you, we’re heading out for Sturgis tomorrow. I don’t care about your stupid job or anything else. You’ve been promising for two years you’d go with me and didn’t come. This year you’re coming.”

  “Listen, Tony, I know I promised, but I can’t leave my job right now. They won’t give me the time off and I can’t afford to be unemployed. Now let me go.”

  “I’m not going to let you go, you bitch.”

  “I’ll be fired.” Kirstie struggled weakly against his grip, knowing she couldn’t escape.

  “Good. Then you won’t have any more excuses.”

  Kirstie stood there looking helpless for a second, then her expression changed from pleading to resolve. While her upper arms were immobilized, she could still bend her elbows. She swung her left hand back, the one that held her motorcycle helmet, and, even though she couldn’t build up much speed, managed to whack Tony in the sensitive area between his legs.

  Tony let out a growl and released Kirstie’s arm long enough to make a fist and punch her in the mouth. She crumpled, blood streaming from the corner of her lips.

  Lilliana, having now seen what Tony was capable of, knew getting between them was not a good idea, and pulled her cell phone out to dial 9-1-1.

  “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” DeeDee’s voice was crisp, her tone businesslike.

  “Send the chief over to the retirement community right away,” Lilliana said. “Kirstie’s boyfriend is beating her up.”

  “May I have your name, please?”

  “DeeDee, it’s Lilliana Wentworth. There’s no time to answer a bunch of fool questions.”

  “Please hold.’

  The silence lasted an eternity. Tony and Kirstie were still wrestling with one another. When he let go of her arm to punch her, she managed to twist out of the way and get in a few shots of her own. She slipped out of his grasp and took a few steps forward.

  “The chief is on his way,” DeeDee said when she came back on the line.

  “Maybe you’d better send an ambulance, too,” Lilliana said.

  Tony grabbed Kirstie by the hair at the back of her head and jerked her backwards. She shrieked with the pain.

  “What’s going on there?” DeeDee’s voice held alarm.

  “I told you, Kirstie’s boyfriend is beating her up. Someone has to stop them.” She could hear the keening of the siren even as she was beginning to think the chief would arrive too late.

  “He’ll be there any second,” DeeDee assured her. “I’ll get that ambulance for you.”

  The phone went dead and Lilliana shoved it in her pocket. Fortunately, Chad Cartwright pulled up at the same time, followed by Sam Horn’s beat up Chevy Malibu. Cartwright jumped out of the SUV and said in his most authoritative voice, “Stop, police.”

  Both the chief and Sam hurried toward the battling couple. Cartwright grabbed Tony’s arm before he could land his fist on Kirstie’s face again while Sam held Kirstie back. An enraged Tony turned on the chief and aimed his fist at him. Cartwright managed to block the punch as he ducked to avoid getting hit. He took a step back and drew his weapon from its holster. “Stand right there, mister.”

  Even Tony wasn’t going to argue with a gun. He stood in place.

  “Get down on the ground and put your hands over your head,” Chief Cartwright directed.

  Tony complied and the chief knelt down over him. One at a time he pulled Tony’s hands down and cuffed his wrists. Then Cartwright rose to his feet. “Are you okay, Kirstie?”

  Kirstie only nodded, as if too shaken up to speak. Biff Buckley’s news van pulled up the driveway, followed by the ambulance.

  “How about you, Mrs. Wentworth?” Cartwright asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  Biff hopped out of one side of the van while his cameraman hopped out of the other. “Get a shot of the prisoner,” Biff yelled at Joey. Joey started taping the scene as Biff ran over to Chief Cartwright. “What have we got here, Chief?”

  Sam had stepped between Kirstie and the camera. He might be a newspaperman, but he also had a sense of decency.

  “Turn off that camera,” Cartwright growled.

  Joey glanced over at Buckley, who signaled his assent reluctantly.

  The EMTs had jumped out of the ambulance by this time and made their way over to Kirstie. One of them examined her injuries, then opened her med kit and started to treat them.

  “Don’t you want shots of her as evidence?” Buckley asked hopefully.

  Cartwright nodded and spoke to the EMT. “Hold up just a minute, will you, Kim?”

  The EMT stopped dabbing at the bloody lip and stepped back. Buckley waved Joey forward, but the chief put up his hand in the classic gesture for stop. “I’ll take them myself, Buckley.”

  Buckley looked disgruntled, but he nodded. The chief got his camera from the trunk and took several pictures of Kirstie’s face, then for good measure, a couple of Tony, who had started to squirm.

  “When ya gonna let me up? The ground is pretty hard here,” Tony complained.

  Lilliana had no sympathy for him. Apparently neither did the chief.

  “When I’m good and ready,” Cartwright said. He looked at Kirstie first, then Lilliana. The EMT looked a question at him. Cartwright nodded, signaling she could go back to treating Kirstie’s injuries, and headed over toward where Lilliana was standing.

  “Care to tell me what happened here?”

  “I had just pulled into the parking lot, when Kirstie and Tony—that’s her boyfriend—rode in on their motorcycles.” She noticed Sam had surreptitiously pulled out his notebook when she started to speak. Buckley saw that and pulled out a notebook of his own. “They had obviously been arguing before they got here.”

  “What do you mean ‘obviously’?” the chief asked.

  “Well...” Lilliana paused to visualize the scene. “They both looked angry. Kirstie started to stomp off, you know, like you do when you’re mad. And then Tony ran after her and grabbed her.”

  Cartwright nodded. Buckley glanced over at Tony, still on the ground, still squirming. Lilliana hoped he was lying on an anthill.

  Several of the residents of the retirement home, including Lenny and Nancy, had come outside to see what was going on. She continued her story up until the point the police chief had arrived.

  “So the boyfriend was definitely the aggressor?”

  “Oh, I’d say so,” Lilliana said. “It’s not the first time he’s hit her.”

  Cartwright raised his eyebrows.

  “Just last week, she had a black eye. She said it was an accident, but I bet he hit her then, too.”

  “But you didn’t witness that event?” Cartwright asked.

  “No.” Lilliana knew that there was no way she could prove Tony had hit Kirstie before; nevertheless she knew it was true.

  Cartwright asked a few more questions, then went over to where Kirstie was standing. Kim, the EMT, had finished whatever she had been doing. “You should come with us to the hospital and get some stitches in that lip,” she said to Kirstie.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Kirstie said, her words barely understandable because of the swelling.

  “You’ll have to sign a release then,” the EMT said, not looking too happy about Kirstie’s refusal.

  “That’s fine.”

  The EMT took her kit back and put it inside the ambulance, then retrieved a clipboard from the front seat. She brought it back and waited while Kirstie signed the form. “You need me to take a look at him, Chief?” the EMT asked, indicating Tony.

  “He’ll be fine,” Cartwright said. “I’ll give you a call later if I need you.”

  “See you later, then.” The EMTs got into the ambulance and drove off.

  Cartwright turned to Lilliana once the ambulance was gone. “I’ll need you to come down to my office and sign a statement when you get a chance.”

  “Of course. I’ll take a walk into town in an hour or so.”

  “You, too, Kirs
tie.” Chief Cartwright raised his voice. “I’ll need you to sign the complaint.”

  Kirstie glanced at Tony, still on the ground, before replying. “I’m not going to file a complaint.”

  “You might want to rethink that,” Cartwright said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Lilliana put her hand on his arm to catch his attention.

  “Let me talk to her,” she said softly. “I might be able to change her mind.”

  The chief nodded and crossed over to Tony. He reached down and grabbed one arm to pull him up. “Time for you to get up and be put in a holding cell.”

  Tony struggled to his knees, then to his feet, his face dark with anger. “About time. I want to get this over with.” He took a look at Kirstie. “I’ll be seeing you as soon as I get out.”

  Kirstie hunched her shoulders and ducked her head as if already warding off the blows to come. Chief Cartwright put Tony in the backseat of his vehicle. He’d no sooner started down the driveway when Biff Buckley beckoned to Joey and headed for Lilliana.

  “I’d like to ask you some questions, Mrs. Wentworth,” Buckley said.

  At least he’d had the decency to leave Kirstie alone. She’d taken advantage of the moment to head toward the building. The seniors at the entrance surrounded her and escorted her inside, offering sympathy and assistance, which Kirstie shook off.

  “I don’t think so,” Lilliana said. As far as she was concerned, a story on domestic violence wasn’t something the victim needed to see on the evening news.

  Buckley gave her a long look before turning to Joey. “Kill the camera, Joey. There’s no story here.”

  The two of them got back in the news van and drove away, leaving Lilliana standing with Sam Horn in the parking lot.

  “You think she’ll press charges?” Sam asked.

  “I hope so,” Lilliana said. “I don’t know what she sees in that young man.”

  “I think she’s more afraid than anything else right now. Too afraid to make him angrier.”

  “Well, I’m going to see what I can do about that. No one should mistake pain for love.”

  “Good luck, Lilliana.”

  “Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

  As she expected, Lilliana found Kirstie in the clinic with an ice pack pressed to her face.

  “Can I do anything to help?” she asked.

  Kirstie shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I heal quickly.” She pressed her lips together. One corner of her mouth quirked up as if she was trying to smile, but the idea of smiling after her fight with Tony was too ironic for even Kirstie to overcome.

  “You know, if you let him get away with it, he’ll only do it again.” Lilliana paused to see what Kirstie would say.

  “It’s my fault,” Kirstie said. “I promised him a year ago I’d go to Sturgis this year because I haven’t gone in a long time.”

  “Pish tosh! That’s no reason to beat you up.”

  “He didn’t really beat me up,” Kirstie objected. “He just got carried away.”

  “Kirstie,” Lilliana spoke gently, “He punched you in the mouth. He would have hurt you more if Chief Cartwright hadn’t arrived.”

  Kirstie’s eyes filled with tears, and Lilliana stepped closer and gave her a hug. A brief hug. Lilliana wasn’t very good at physical affection.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Kirstie moaned.

  “The first thing you need to do is file a complaint,” Lilliana said. “He can’t hurt you if he’s in jail.”

  “But he’ll probably be out on bail in less than twenty-four hours. Then what? He’ll be really mad at me for filing charges.”

  “You need to get an order of protection. That shouldn’t be a problem considering the arrest today. He won’t be allowed to come near you then.”

  “But who will stop him?”

  “Chief Cartwright. With a protective order, if Tony shows up, all you need to do is dial 9-1-1, and the Chief will come out and arrest him again.”

  Kirstie still looked doubtful. “I’ll think about it,” she finally said.

  “Good,” Lilliana said. It was a start.

  “And now I’d better get back to work,” Kirstie said. She put the ice pack down on the corner of her desk and picked up a stack of mail. Slitting open the first envelope, she removed the paper inside and a small sample pack of Lipitor. The large, slanted, blue letters of the brand name were clearly legible from where Lilliana stood. Kirstie pulled her clipboard from the top drawer and started writing. She filled in the patient’s name in the first column, then moved on to the second column, labeled prescription. What she wrote there was a lot longer than Lipitor, even though Lilliana couldn’t make out the exact words.

  “What are you writing?” Lilliana asked.

  Kirstie covered the sheet of paper with her hand and looked up in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were still here, Mrs. Wentworth.”

  “Sorry to startle you.” Lilliana regretted that she’d spoken. Maybe if she had craned her neck she would have been able to see what Kirstie had written. Now she’d have to wheedle the information from the nurse. “I just noticed that you didn’t write Lipitor in the prescription column.”

  Kirstie’s face grew stern. “This is all confidential information, Mrs. Wentworth. I can’t disclose any patient information except with a specific release from them.”

  “I don’t want to know who’s taking what, Kirstie. It hardly matters to me.” Well, that was a little white lie, but generally true. “I was just curious why you didn’t write what was on the package on your medication sheet.”

  “Oh. I guess I can tell you that,” Kirstie said. She held up the sample, careful to cover the patient name label with her finger. She pointed with her other hand to the words underneath the brand name. “See this?”

  Lilliana made out the words atorvastatin calcium in smaller letters. “Yes...”

  “That’s the pharmacological name. I put that on the medication sheet because it’s more descriptive, and many times the pharmacy will substitute a generic for a brand name because of insurance.”

  “Of course,” Lilliana said. “I’ve seen that with my own prescriptions. When I need one, that is.”

  Kirstie nodded.

  The wheels in Lilliana’s head started turning. Of course, she thought. She’d been looking for the wrong thing.

  “Anything else?” Kirstie asked.

  “Oh, no, my dear,” Lilliana answered. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  Lilliana couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment and use her computer. Now that she knew why she hadn’t seen Xarelto on Kirstie’s list, she was eager to follow up. It didn’t take her long to find the pharmacological name once she logged on. Rivaroxaban. Why couldn’t they give drugs names you could pronounce? And remember. She’d only had time to scan the list the first time. She’d been looking for a name that started with “X”, not one that began with an “R”. And she’d only been able to see the last line Kirstie had been writing today, not the rest of the list. She sighed. How would she ever get another look now that she knew what she was looking for?

  While she chewed on that problem, her eyes drifted over the rest of the web page. Lots of warnings about not taking with aspirin or NSAIDs, like the Aleve Ruby had been taking. Not taking it with another blood thinner. Lots of symptoms that amounted to internal or external bleeding. All of the information was consistent with the way Ruby had died. Nothing she didn’t know.

  She was about to close the page when her eyes drifted back to the conditions for which a doctor would prescribe Xarelto. In addition to joint replacement surgery like Willie, atrial fibrillation was listed. As a matter of fact, AFib was the first condition listed. At least that one had a name she could pronounce.

  She couldn’t remember anyone in the African Violet Club who had an irregular heartbeat. The residents of the retirement community usually shared too much information about their medical conditions rather than too little. But maybe someone hadn’t share
d the diagnosis directly, didn’t talk about atrial fibrillation. Maybe they had talked about their symptoms in something other than medical terminology.

  Lilliana quickly searched for atrial fibrillation and clicked on a site that listed the symptoms. Shortness of breath and dizziness were listed, particularly during physical activity or emotional distress. That sounded familiar. She thought back over the past few days, wracking her brain for the memory that was reluctant to present itself.

  She huffed out a breath in frustration. She used to have such a good memory. She’d always been able to recall facts immediately. Until the past few years. Now it seemed as if she had to dig for every bit of information. Calm down, she told herself. Take it slowly. It will only be harder if you try to rush.

  So she rewound to the day of the African Violet Club meeting and started from when she entered the room. Stepped through Frank’s demonstration and the murder. Relived Nancy pulling out the ice pick. Skipped quickly through her own role in trying to save Ruby’s life. Her trip back to her apartment. The time when she joined Chief Cartwright in the interrogations. The people they’d questioned. And then she knew what had triggered her brain. It wasn’t the shortness of breath or the dizziness. The man hadn’t said atrial fibrillation or even irregular heartbeat. He’d said “my heart starts racing.”

  But what was his motive?

  She didn’t have time for clever questioning or to take a trip to the Pima County offices. She searched the Internet for information on him. She found a people search site, so she clicked on that and entered his name. And got just enough information to almost confirm her suspicion. But not quite enough to convince Chief Cartwright. She clicked on the See All Relatives link. And got a screen asking her to pay for the information she wanted. They wanted quite a lot of money for a full report. Too much if it didn’t give her what she needed. But this was a murder investigation, after all. Much as Lilliana hated to do it, she clicked on the button to pay and entered her credit card number.

  She held her breath while the next page loaded. Bingo! There it was, under the section labeled marriages and divorces.