The Cure May Kill You: A Cassidy Hudson Mystery

by Carlie Lemont

  As if on cue, Janet walked up to the front of the room and waited for everyone to quiet down. “Thank you all,” she said, “for coming to this mandatory meeting. I hate filling out the paperwork to reprimand those who don’t show up. Anyway, I’d like to start this meeting out like I do all meetings. Willow, you have the floor.” And Janet waved Willow forth. “But make it short.”

  “Thank you!” Willow said skipping her way up to the front. Once there, she paused with her back to the group, head hung low, and in the silence sat an awkward, palpable tension. Willow finally twirled around, arms spread wide, which somehow didn’t seem as wide as her creepy, unblinking eyes.

  “Welcome....” Willow’s smile grew unnaturally large. “I think I speak on behalf of the entire Sunshine Therapy team when I say: Rainbows!” And again she paused, clasped her hands in front of her, and closed her eyes.

  “Oh, here we go again,” Cassidy whispered to JJ.

  “I wonder what she’ll do this time? I hope there isn’t any glitter involved. Took me at least a full day to pick all of those little pieces out of my ears.”

  Cassidy wrinkled her nose. “Eww!”

  Suddenly, Willow sprang to life, twirling and clapping to some bizarre beat inside her head while she sang a song she must have learned in a mental institution before she had the audacity to escape. The horrific display ended with Willow collapsing onto her side, panting for air. After the last flake of glitter had hit the floor, someone in the audience began to clap, followed by another, then another. Soon, the entire room was applauding Willow’s insanity. After all, anyone smarter than a kumquat lived in fear that at some point Willow would experience a psychotic break and unleash a wave of violence.

  Janet gathered up her papers and rose from her seat in the first row. “Thank you, Willow, thank you,” she said, clapping and striding toward the front of the room. “Now if you don’t mind, could you get up from the floor?” She offered a hand down to her clinically insane employee. “And please clean up the glitter and the flower petals. I’d really appreciate that, thanks.”

  At the podium, Janet ran her fingers through her mop of uncombed, badly colored hair, then paused for a second as she examined something between her thumb and index finger. Cassidy presumed it to be a bug, and shuddered.

  “As you’ve all heard,” Janet began, “we’ve had some incidents the corporate office would like us to discuss. Personally, I don’t believe in all of that kumbaya crap. Sorry, Willow, your enthusiasm was inspired, but I think I’d rather just touch on the highlights.”

  Willow returned to her seat.

  “Okay, now where were we?”

  “I believe you were talking about the patients who’ve died on Cassidy’s caseload?” Randi said, and she shot Cassidy a nasty smirk.

  Cassidy was about to respond, when Janet blurted out, “Oh, yes. That’s right. Due to recent unfortunate incidents, I’ve received a letter from Corporate. The portion that applies to all of you reads as follows: ‘As a company, we would like to officially say we are taking a firm stance against patient deaths. We pride ourselves in rehabilitating people placed under our care, and we find being a part of their murder investigations to be distasteful and unfortunate.’”

  Janet folded the letter, placed it back into the envelope. “Now, the company has set a goal for this upcoming month: we’d like to be death-free for the next thirty days. In addition, it’s important we remain eighty percent productive, no matter what, and if you can’t meet company standards, pay cuts may be in some people’s futures.” She shoved the envelope into the pocket of her pleated khaki pants.

  “Company-wide,” she added, “we will hold a contest where we’ll keep track of how many visits are completed versus how many sessions are missed because of patient illnesses, or their returning to the hospital, or dying. This percentage will be calculated weekly. Anyone have any questions?”

  “Great. Another thing for us to keep track of,” Randi said.

  Stacey raised her hand. “I have a question.”

  “Okay, good,” Janet said. “Stacey, what’s your question?”

  “Do we get some kind of bonus if we win the contest?” And she looked around the room for support.

  Not surprisingly, the majority of coworkers were more interested in a potential incentive bonus than keeping patients alive.

  “A pizza party. But everyone’ll have to bring their own pizza. The party”—Janet used air-quotes—“will be provided by the company.”

  The room fell silent while all of the idiots tried to process this information. Cassidy rolled her eyes. Ugh! She worked for such a cheap and out of touch company, so she had trouble keeping her tone of voice neutral when she asked, “Does the company think one of us had something to do with the murders?”

  Normally, she loved to point fingers and could appreciate a good witch-hunt, but her own reputation was on the line, and she didn’t like that idea. She’d never been anything but professional and ethical with all of her patients and coworkers.

  “Not at all,” Janet said. “And the company acknowledges that some on our team may feel scared or bewildered by the current situation, so they’d like to take a proactive stance. So, moving forward, our goal is to have no more patient deaths. Simple as that. If there are no further questions, this meeting is adjourned.”

  Cassidy slapped her leg, then stood. “Well, this has been a complete waste of time. Hurry up, JJ. Let’s get out of here, before Willow gets her hands on us.”

  They wove their way between the chairs and the groups of people with their idle chitchat. She’d almost made it to the exit when her hopes were about to be—

  “Cassidy!”

  —shattered.

  “Cassidy!” Willow called again.

  “This cannot be happening to me,” she mumbled, then turned to face the wacky woman who pranced toward her. “What, are you wearing zero gravity boots or something?” Cassidy continued to ease her way back toward the exit doors.

  “Oh, you’re such a silly goose.” Willow giggled. “Of course not! I’m simply light in spirit. Helping others rid themselves of negative energy always makes me feel like I can fly.” And she clasped her hands together, appearing to shiver with pure excitement.

  “I’ll bet you could fly,” Cassidy said, still edging toward the door. “In fact, we can go outside right now and you can try it. I’ll watch. I’ve never seen anyone actually fly before, so this should be fun! That big tree out front looks like a great jumping-off point. What do you think? Are you with me?”

  “What I’d really like to do is help to cleanse your aura.” Willow stepped forward and invaded Cassidy’s personal space bubble.

  Cassidy glanced around for an escape, when JJ emerged from a cluster of people and walked toward them. At once, Cassidy was torn in an internal debate: shoo away her friend and save him, or allow him to succumb to Willow’s insanity and seal both of their fates together? But that brief moment of hesitation made her decision.

  “Thanks for waiting for me, Cassidy,” JJ said. “I didn’t think I would catch up to you.” Then, he halted. “Wait... what’s going on here?”

  Willow flung her arms out and let her head drop back to what seemed like an impossible angle. Then, she hummed low as though channeling an unknown and potentially dangerous energy source. Guilt sat like a rock in Cassidy’s stomach at the fear building in JJ’s eyes. But just as she was about to grab him and run, she was forced to duck instead, narrowly escaping Willow’s elbow as she began to twirl in front of them.

  “Cassidy?” someone from behind said.

  “Now what?” Cassidy spun around, but was pleasantly surprised when Stacey made her way toward them through the crowd.

  Cassidy dodged Willow’s chaos and joined Stacey instead.

  “Glad I caught you before you left,” Stacey said.

  “I’m glad you did, too. You saved me from that.” Cassidy thrust a thumb at Willow, though her guilt multiplied when JJ crouched and covered his eyes.


  “Oh, Lord. Don’t you think you should save him?” Stacey asked, trying to conceal her laughter behind her hand. “Better yet, let’s get this on video. That guy bugs me.”

  Taken aback, Cassidy narrowed her eyes. Who did she think she was, insulting her best friend? “Did you need something, or did you just come over here to chitchat?”

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the patients I’ll be seeing this coming week.”

  “Why? I thought we covered everything the other day.”

  “Well, I’m just concerned, is all. To be honest”—her voice dropped, and she glanced around—“I’m kind of scared. I thought about taking some time off. Just the idea of walking into a patient’s home to find them... dead? I don’t think I could take it.” Her words caught in her throat, but she managed to clear it.

  “Oh, it’s a horrible thing to witness. I never thought it could happen, but it did. Be thankful you’ve dodged that bullet so far.”

  Stacey suddenly drained a pale shade of off-white Cassidy had never seen before on a living person. Cassidy shuffled a step back. No need to get thrown up on... or hugged.

  “Tell me you aren’t going to pass out on me. Do you need to sit down, an emesis basin, a shrink?”

  “No, I’m just really scared.”

  “Well, I often find it best to detach yourself from tough situations. Makes everything easier in the long run. Now, go take your shower-supply bag, which seems to be awkwardly bedazzled with rhinestones and ribbons, and get back to work.”

  Stacey tossed her a disconcerted, puzzled look. “I’ve tried that in the past. You know, detaching myself, I mean. I guess I could try it again...”

  Cassidy wanted to shoo Stacey away. Not only did she need to get out of the office, but she was also tired of looking at her striped hair braids, which were an unfortunate combination of fuchsia and her natural mousy brown color.

  “What an... interesting hair style,” Cassidy said when Stacey didn't leave. “What did you do to it?” A simple enough question, though she was a little surprised by Stacey’s quivering bottom lip. “Oh shoot. Did I say something to upset you?”

  “Yes, but it’s okay.” Stacey tried to tuck a few loose braids behind her ear. “I had it done a few days ago. My stylist said it was the latest trend in hair fashion: braids interwoven with feathers. My hair’s a mess right now because I had to escape Willow’s clutches before you got here.”

  A few of the braids did appear unraveled with a few feathers sticking out, definitely worse for wear.

  “Huh, I suppose fashion’s much like art. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder.”

  “Thank you.” Stacey coyly played with the braids. “I’m glad you like them.” And with that, she turned and walked away.

  “Well, my job here is done.”

  At once, Cassidy headed straight for the nearest exit and, using her hip to push open the door, stepped outside into the oppressive heat and humidity, which threatened to drown her. Yet the sense of freedom from her workplace and her co-workers overrode the negative, and she rushed to her car, turned over the engine, and blasted the air conditioner.

  While the cool air dried the sweat on her forehead, Cassidy started to plan out what to do next. Once JJ had emerged from the building, she’d call him over and drive him home, like every other workday. But what she really wanted was to drive to Ted’s Bar and Grill and discuss her theories with Ted over an icy cold beer.

  Cassidy leaned forward to regard the front door and brightly colored sign in front of Sunshine Home Health. That's when it hit her. Her place of employment was no longer a mere innocent annoyance. Not when it harbored deadly secrets. And she needed to get to the bottom of everything—fast.

  CHAPTER 15

  A

  fter dropping JJ off at his apartment and stopping at home to take Max out to potty and give him treats for being a good boy, Cassidy headed straight for Ted’s bar. As soon as she stepped inside, an immediate sense of relief and a wave of calm washed over her, leaving her relaxed for the first time all day.

  “Hey!” Ted called over from behind the bar. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Cass?”

  Cassidy wiped off the stool and table top before she bellied up. “I know it’s not my normal day or time, but for crying out loud, I’ve had a terrible last couple of days.” She rested her chin in her left hand and used her right to indicate she’d like a beer.

  “Here you go.” Ted set the beer in front of her. “I hope a Corona will work for you. Lime wedge?”

  Cassidy nodded. “Should get some vitamin C somehow. I’ve had more drinks than usual as of late. I think the stress has been getting to me.”

  “Well, you’re here now. Tell me all about it. Are you still upset over the patient who’d met with an untimely demise?”

  “Sort of. It’s so much more than that, though. I don’t even know where to start.”

  Ted shrugged, wiping down the bar with a less-than-spotless towel. “Beginning’s usually a pretty good place.”

  “Nah. I don’t have the time or the patience for that. I’ll start from the current situation, and if you need any back information, just raise your hand and I’ll call on you. Deal?”

  “Deal. Just don’t hit me with a ruler.” Ted lifted up his hands in mock defense. “The nuns from my stint in Catholic school really have me spooked.”

  Cassidy chuckled. “Just kidding anyway. You’re one of the few people I know, who doesn’t irritate me.”

  “Ah, good. All right. Start whenever you’re ready, then.” Ted began to dry a full crate of what Cassidy hoped were clean mugs and glasses, while she told her story from start to finish, mindful of the important details, and only paused a few times for Ted to attend to a few beer-hunting stragglers.

  Once she was done, Ted set aside his rag and shook his head in disbelief. “Wow, not really sure what else to say except... wow!”

  “I know it. See why I’m so stressed out?”

  “I have a few questions for you.” Ted dragged a stool over and sat across the bar from her.

  “Shoot...oh, wait. Might not be the best expression, considering I keep stumbling upon dead people.”

  “So, these people...the ones getting killed, they’re your patients?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the only things they have in common are: they live in the same general area, they’re receiving therapy services from your company, and you and JJ are their treating therapists.”

  “Correct. As far as I know, anyway. The police won’t tell me anything.”

  Ted cleared his throat, leaned heavily onto the bar. “What if you and your friend are being set up?”

  Cassidy gasped. “I never thought of that.”

  “You also mentioned this Randi person.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Do you honestly think she could be the killer? If she hates you as much as you think she does, she could be trying to frame you for it.”

  Cassidy let out a long, frustrated breath through her nose. “I don’t know. I mean, she is an awful creature—Randi dresses like an eccentric truck driver with the disposition of a coiled rattlesnake. But a killer smart enough to frame me? I don’t know.”

  “Huh. And the police have no idea who it might be?” Ted leaned even closer to Cassidy.

  Cassidy straightened at once. “Well, they aren’t talking to me about it. They don’t seem like the brightest bunch of people, so my guess would be they don’t have any leads yet. In fact, the two detectives don’t even seem to be taking it all that seriously.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because whenever I ask a question or bring up an idea, Detective Sanchez brushes me off like dandruff. Her invisible partner, Delacruz, has even told me over the phone to mind my own business. And whenever I’m questioned, they ask the same ones over and over again, which is pointless, because I didn’t do it. If that’s all they’re going to do, how will they ever find out who actually did murder those people?”

  “Cassidy,
the thing is, they don’t know for sure you didn’t do it. Detectives tend to follow certain procedures that have worked for them in the past, and it sounds like they have you and JJ on their suspect list, so they’re treating you as such. Don’t worry about it. To cops, everyone associated with a murder victim is a potential suspect.” Ted pushed back, sitting upright. “If you and your friend are innocent, like you’ve said time and again, then you have nothing to worry about. Just stay out of their way.”

  Cassidy scowled. “Why does everyone keep telling me not to get involved? Wouldn’t it make sense to have more people actively helping? It would get solved more quickly! I’m just trying to help clean up the streets; you know, stop a bad guy before someone else gets killed.” Cassidy swigged the last of her beer, then added in a mumble, “All very noble, if you ask me.”

  “Just be careful, Cass. This is not a game. And if you could ask the two victims, I think they’d tell you it was deadly serious.” Ted offered her another beer, but she declined. “And another thing, speaking from past experience: sometimes people and situations are not as they appear.”

  “Oh my God! That’s what that crazy guy said.”

  “What crazy guy?”

  “There was some crazy guy walking a little white dog. I saw him at both murder scenes, and he said that same thing, about people and situations being not as they appeared.”

  “Sounds like he was trying to tell you something.”

  “I have to find him. I can feel it deep down in my bones, he knows something important to the case.”

  “Case?” Ted blinked. “Cass, as much as I hate to admit to it, the police are right to say you should leave it to the professionals. Although, I’ve also learned the hard way that you should always trust your instincts. That's a little piece of advice my dad had given me when I was young. Proved invaluable on multiple occasions. My dad also gave me another piece of advice.”