The Cure May Kill You: A Cassidy Hudson Mystery

by Carlie Lemont

  Cassidy shrugged. “I don’t know what I feel anymore. I’ll be fine, don't you worry. Let’s go inside and have a nice relaxing drink and some lunch, okay?” And the two friends headed toward Big Mama’s Bar and Grill.

  “So,” JJ said. “do you think the two deaths are related?”

  “I need a distraction from everything, JJ. Let’s just talk about what we want to eat.”

  “All right. I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

  “Remember what your doctor said last year about your diet. You’d asked me to help keep you on track, so need I remind you: at your age, you should avoid not only bacon, but cheese, too.”

  “I love how you think I’m so much older than you. What, by six months?”

  Cassidy giggled.

  “Please, don’t make fun of me right now. I don’t think I can take it.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She stepped back to let JJ open the door. “Well, since we don’t have any other patients today, I say we enjoy a nice adult beverage. If we end up getting called back in to fill out more paperwork, though, I’ll consider having a second one. We can always take a cab. No harm, no foul, if we aren’t treating patients, right?”

  “I concur.”

  Once inside, JJ told the hostess they wanted a booth near a window, while Cassidy went into the bathroom to scrub her hands. After using half the soap in the dispenser and washing with water as hot as she could tolerate, she looked herself over in the mirror. Dark circles sat deep under her eyes, so she applied a layer of concealer, then made a mental note to get more sleep tonight.

  Cassidy gathered up five or six paper towels, then opened the bathroom door and located JJ sitting along the far side of the restaurant. She hurried over, wiped down both the seat and the table with a Clorox wipe, and slid in across from him.

  “Thanks for getting a table as far away as possible from that screaming kid.”

  JJ smiled. “Of course. I wanted you to enjoy your lunch. Here, I ordered drinks while you were in the bathroom.” And he slid the mojito across the table.

  “Ah, you know me so well. Did you get it with vodka?”

  “I did! How could I forget my best friend prefers vodka over rum?” JJ lifted his own glass. “Here’s to a wonderful woman. She’d lived a great life, but left us all too soon.”

  Cassidy lifted hers in kind, clinked it against JJ’s, and said, “To Marge.”

  The revving of a car’s engine outside broke the heartfelt moment. With a napkin, Cassidy separated the faux wood blinds to see, out in the parking lot, a car facing perpendicular to her own. She squinted against the sun’s glare off of the dark tinted windows, unable to see who was driving.

  “Do you recognize that car?” she asked JJ. “It looks kind of familiar.”

  JJ peered through the blinds. “Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

  “Hmmm... I swear I’ve seen it before. But where?” Cassidy closed her eyes to focus. “You know what? I think I saw a car kind of like that one sitting near Marge’s house today. Remember when we left her driveway and swerved around that Jazzy chair?”

  “You mean how you almost killed someone in that Jazzy chair?”

  “Potato, potahto. Anyway, I think that car was parked across the street. I couldn’t swear to it, though.”

  They both flinched when a voice suddenly addressed them. “Can I get you guys anything to eat? Maybe something else to drink?” The waitress stood beside their table, chomping on her gum, tapping a pen against her order pad.

  “Yes,” JJ said before Cassidy had a chance to insult the woman. “I’d like a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries. Can I have them unseasoned, though? Black pepper upsets my stomach.”

  “Heartburn?” the waitress said.

  “No, he has a sensitivity to it. And since he’s riding in my car, I don’t want to have to clean up the seats. Get what I’m saying?”

  The waitress paused, then nodded her understanding. “Okay. No pepper. And for you, ma’am?”

  Ma’am. Cassidy narrowed her eyes. “Nothing for me.”

  “Cassidy ... ?”

  “Fine. I’ll have a salad. I don’t want any iceberg lettuce. Just Romaine.”

  “All you want is lettuce?” the waitress asked between cow-like gum chomps.

  Cassidy looked over at JJ, whose face pleaded with her to be nice. “I’d also like shredded carrots, radish, sliced green olives, Bermuda onions, and a sprinkle of blue cheese.”

  “Dressing?”

  Chomp, chomp, snap.

  “Ranch, on the side.”

  “Of course.” The waitress retreated to the kitchen.

  Cassidy sipped the mojito and pulled apart the blinds with her napkin, just enough to peer through. The strange vehicle was gone. Why had it been there? Had they been followed?

  A little uneasy, though with nerves dulled by the vodka, Cassidy sat in a comfortable silence with her friend while they waited for their food.

  CHAPTER 13

  T

  he following morning, Cassidy and JJ sat together in the Sunshine Home Health’s main office, completing the endless, redundant, and time-consuming stacks of paperwork. Added to their normal daily, weekly, and monthly paperwork were incident reports to fill out regarding Marge’s death.

  The two had briefly discussed the previous day’s events, interspersed with Cassidy forcing JJ to make repeated phone calls to the police inquiring about the case’s progress. After the third call, however, it’d become clear that if something was being done, they wouldn’t be told about it. A silent tension filled the room, and as other employees entered the office, they quickly became unnerved. One by one, they left to find a less hostile environment to complete their own paperwork.

  An hour later, Willow entered to offer her own unwanted sympathy.

  “Cassidy, JJ... I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Good,” Cassidy said. “Please don’t say anything, and we’ll all be better off.”

  “Ha!” Willow waved a dismissive hand. “You’re a silly goose. I am really sorry, though, that you had to go through another unpleasant experience. May your aura be cleansed. May your spirit guide transcend this earthly and quarantined existence to bring you ... ” Cassidy began to shut out Willow’s elaborate and unwanted blessings.

  After an eternity, Willow leaned forward and smiled—broad and creepy. Then, she affixed a soul-stealing stare, first onto Cassidy and then onto JJ, holding each for what felt like a solid minute, until she finally blinked, breaking whatever spell she’d put herself under. With palms pressed together, she bowed low, took in a deep breath, then blew it noisily out through her nose before backing out of the office in a crouched position.

  Cassidy stared, momentarily speechless, then turned to JJ. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “I think she meant well, but she lost me at spirit guide.”

  “Well, she lost me when she walked in wearing those mismatched shoes. That woman gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Cassidy leaned close to JJ without breaking any of her own personal space boundaries, and whispered, “Maybe she’s the one.”

  “The one what?”

  “You know. The one.”

  “Nah. She’s the harmless kind of crazy, not the murderous kind. Seriously, Cassidy, your imagination is on overdrive.”

  “Look, I have a lot of really great ideas. I read at least two murder mystery novels a week, and I watch multiple crime dramas on television. Not to mention, I always solve the murder before the end of the book or the TV show.” Cassidy stacked her papers in front of her. “I tried to explain my theories to those bumbling fools at Marge’s crime scene, but they wouldn’t even listen to me. Mark my words, they will need my help.”

  JJ smiled. “I think we should just stay out of it, and you should stay out of their way. You did say that policeman told you to leave it to the professionals. A killer is on the loose, and you don’t want to get hurt.”

  “Whatever, Jamal. Detective Sanchez and her
loser partner will come crawling to me for help. You just watch.” As if on cue, Cassidy’s cellphone rang. She sanitized her hands, then answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Miss Cassidy Hudson?” asked the man on the other end.

  “This is she. Who are you?”

  “Detective Delacruz, Detective Sanchez’s partner and lead investigator in the case you’ve become involved with.”

  “Oh, good. Hold on a sec.” Cassidy placed her hand over the receiver. “JJ, pay attention to this. It’s Detective Delacruz, Sanchez’s partner. He’s probably calling because he needs my help. Remember what I just told you? Mark my words?”

  Cassidy put her cellphone on speaker, then cleared her throat. “Go ahead, Detective. What can... I... help you with?”

  “What you can do is stop meddling in official police business,” Delacruz barked.

  “Excuse me? I don’t meddle!”

  “You don’t? Lady, I beg to differ. I have five reports sitting on my desk that state you’d been questioning bystanders regarding the murder. Did you question bystanders at the scene of a murder or not?”

  “So, you’re finally admitting it was a murder? I knew it! I’ve been calling to get information from you people all day, and no one’ll tell us anything.” She then mouthed the words I told you so to JJ. “I guess your job really isn’t that hard, since I don’t have any official training and I was still able to figure that one out for myself.” Cassidy rolled her eyes.

  “Stay out of the case,” Delacruz said, “unless you want to be charged with obstruction of justice. Consider this your first and final warning.” The line went dead.

  “What a jackass. Who does he think he is, hanging up on me like that? Way to be mature.” And she threw her pen onto the floor and stomped on it.

  “He’s the police. You know, the ones who are in charge of this mess? The ones who can arrest you if you meddle where you don’t belong?”

  For a moment, Cassidy was silent. “I seem to remember the majority of crimes on TV being solved with the help of someone not on the police force. That’s how life works.” She put her phone back into her purse and stood up. “Jessica Fletcher would have been just a boring, matronly dressed writer from Maine if she didn’t get involved. You’ve watched Murder She Wrote, you know what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, I can’t argue with you there. Hey, wait! Where are you going?” He stepped in front of Cassidy, both hands up in a feeble attempt to stop her, ever mindful, of course, to not touch her.

  “Out of my way, Jamal. I’m leaving.”

  “But... you’re my ride! You can’t leave without me.”

  “If you want a ride, then you’d better get your butt in gear and out the door. I’m not going to wait around forever.”

  JJ’s eyebrows arched, wrinkling his forehead, and his large, puppy-dog eyes blinked slowly while his mouth curved into a frown. Without another word, he spread his arms across the doorway, cutting off her way out, unless she were to shove him to the side.

  Cassidy halted, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, my friend. I won’t do anything I shouldn’t. Well, not yet, anyway. I need to think about this some more first, then come up with a plan.”

  Together, they headed for the exit to the parking lot before she added, “We have a mandatory staff meeting in a couple of hours, and I usually do my best thinking over cocktails. But I have a feeling eleven in the morning is way too early for a rum and coke, right?”

  JJ laughed.

  Cassidy took in a deep, cleansing breath. Patients were dying at the hands of a psychotic killer, and she’d been unable to do anything about it—yet. But hand sanitizer wouldn’t fix this problem, nor snarky insults or flippant comments. So, if she was going to do something about all this she had better start now.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Maybe we can get a nice soup and salad combination somewhere?”

  “Good idea.” Movement at the far end of the parking lot caught her eye. “Look, over there, those bushes. Do you see someone behind them? I could have sworn I just saw someone stoop down.”

  JJ squinted and shielded his eyes from the intense sunlight, then shook his head. “Nope. I’ll bet all this stress is making your mind play tricks on you. Don't worry, it’s probably normal.”

  Cassidy unlocked her car doors, and they both got in. She shoved the key into the ignition, but hesitated.

  “You okay?” he said.

  With a grimace, she closed her eyes and turned the key. The car didn’t explode, so she let out a sigh of relief.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just psyching myself out. Let’s go get our soup and salad on.”

  CHAPTER 14

  A

  fter lunch, when Cassidy gazed upon the freak show assembled before her, she was thankful she hadn't had anything to drink. Inhibitions were the only thing that kept her mouth under control. People milled around, engaged in idle chitchat, seeming oblivious to the noxious smell.

  “What’s that stench?” Cassidy said.

  “Burned popcorn?” JJ fanned his nose with his hand.

  “Burned popcorn? Maybe if it were mixed with disappointment and unfulfilled dreams. Oh my God, look at Janet, over there. She’s shoveling that crap into her face faster than her elastic waistband can expand.”

  Cassidy scanned the room, which was large and full of padded chairs facing away from the entrance. Its décor had been installed sometime after the era of shag carpet and mauve accent walls, but unfortunately this room had both. To one side, Willow acted out what looked like a scene from her favorite episode of Little House On The Prairie, the one where Mary first found out she’d gone blind. Willow kept grabbing at her eyes and reaching out for invisible objects. The trapped co-workers for this impromptu spectacle, offered insincere praise and awkward smiles.

  Cassidy took this opportunity to slink her way through the room with JJ. They’d nearly reached their seats, when something absolutely hideous pulled Cassidy up short.

  “Look at her hair,” Cassidy said.

  “Who’s hair?” JJ glanced around.

  “Oh, you can’t be serious—Randi’s! Look at that dog-show clip she’s sporting. Does she really think that improves her appearance? Crap, she’s coming this way.” And at once, Cassidy shielded her eyes from the intense glare of ugliness descending upon them. “Don’t make eye contact.”

  Randi B. Wilde was a woman damaged; a “dented can” as Cassidy often referred to her in the presence of others. Randi’s hairstyle was straight out of Kentucky, circa 1982, with three lines shaved into the left side of her head and a shoulder-length braided sideburn that ended in a large turquoise bead on the right. Although the hair itself was a nice shade of gray, it glistened with a most unfortunate oily look that reminded Cassidy of the BP oil disaster. Sadly, it was impossible for Cassidy to avert her eyes from the gaudy lime-green polyester blouse and yellow stirrup pants tucked neatly into a pair of red high-top Nike sneakers. The ensemble was breathtaking... in the worst possible way... and Cassidy often classified Randi’s style as “dumpy chic,” without all that annoying “chic” getting in the way.

  Randi crashed through their conversation like she did through a room—always a bull in a china shop. “Well, if it ain’t the two Grim Reapers.” She swaggered up alongside them like an old bowlegged cowboy preparing to mount a horse.

  “Well, if it isn’t the poorly dressed dinosaur,” Cassidy snapped back. “Your breath, Randi. It’s call halitosis. I know your soul died a long time ago, but you could try eating a Tic-Tac.”

  “You’re as pleasant as ever.” Randi turned to JJ with the sweetness of a velociraptor. “I was just tryin’ to lighten the mood.”

  “I know,” JJ said. “But Cassidy and I have taken the patients’ deaths, especially Marge’s, pretty hard.”

  Both Randi and JJ turned to look at Cassidy, who leaned against the wall in her seat, arms crossed.

  “What?” she said.

&nbs
p; JJ rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Anyway, how’ve you been, Randi?”

  “Actually, it’s been a pretty tough couple of weeks, but at least everyone on my caseload’ll live to see another day.” Randi laughed and roughly shook JJ’s shoulder before finishing off her physical assault with a quick rib-jab. “Lighten up, big guy. I’m sure your patients either deserved it, or were ready to go anyway. I mean, that one lady you had, she was a real peach, from what I’ve heard.”

  “Excuse me?” JJ blinked, jerking back. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious. Grow a set, kid. These people are pretty old and sick, and they all have at least one foot in the grave to start with. Someone just came along and gave them a little nudge, that’s all.” Randi turned to Cassidy. “You’re a heartless shrew; you know what I’m talking about, right?” And without waiting for a reply, Randi adjusted her underwear and walked away.

  “That lady really has problems,” JJ said.

  “What lady? Oh! You mean Randi?” Cassidy said. “I'm not entirely sure she's even human.”

  “Ha! That’s really mean. But in this case, I think I like it.” JJ attempted to high five his friend.

  “I don’t high five. You know this.”

  “Please, Cassidy? Just this once...”

  “Oh, all right. But we can’t actually touch each other.” Cassidy raised her hand, and JJ pretended to high five her.

  “You’re too funny. Reminds me of when my mom and I would air-kiss like Blair on The Facts of Life. Remember that show?”

  “You might not want to admit that in public." They shared a short laugh.

  Cassidy grew quiet for a moment. “Did you hear how she was talking about our patients? She’s one sick, bitch. Wouldn’t surprise me if she were the one who’d done it.”

  JJ shook his head in disbelief. “Now you think everyone did it. Am I on your suspect list, too.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. You don’t have what it takes to be a killer.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Cassidy shrugged. “Good, the meeting’s about to start. I hope it doesn't last too long. I’d love to just go home and forget about this entire day. Max and I can cuddle up on the couch, watch some daytime TV, and share some popcorn.”