“Did she?”
“Tyrone said he wasn't sure. She just gave him a blank stare, but when he spoke to her, she seemed to become more alert, and he thought she tried to smile. Then she closed her eyes and drifted off again.”
“They'd better let me in to see her,” Fonnie said. “You can bet your bottom dollar she'll recognize my voice.”
Brain laughed. “I'll admit it's pretty hard to ignore you. You have a special talent for getting to people.”
“I'll take that as a compliment,” Fonnie said. “Now what are your plans for the day?”
“I'm hanging out here until the doctor makes his rounds, which should be soon. Then I'm hauling my buddies over to the motel and three of us are heading for showers and food—in that order.”
“Fine. But don't leave until I get there.”
Fonnie and Jeremiah arrived as the doctor in his starched white lab coat and Lieutenant Steinberg in his rumpled brown suit came through the ICU double doors. The three disheveled young men hurried to meet them, as did the two older people. Steinberg motioned all of them into a far corner.
The doctor spoke first. His report was succinct and professional. “Miss Riggs' condition has been upgraded from critical to serious. She is aware and as alert as possible with the pain medication she requires. The edema in her throat is subsiding. At the present time she is unable to talk or swallow. These functions may well return in a few days. She is being fed intravenously and receiving the necessary antibiotics and analgesics.” The doctor smiled at the attentive group in front of him. “I'll check her again at noon and give you an update at that time. Are there any questions?”
Of course there were. Tyrone was first. “Sir, I have to call our dad and give him a report. He was planning on coming here this morning, but I talked to him a few minutes ago and he didn't sound good. He has a bad heart and I urged him to stay home until he heard from me. Can I tell him that Keisha's going to be all right?”
“I think that would be a safe statement. However, I do have to caution you that she may have residual cognitive problems and memory deficit, especially if her brain was deprived of oxygen for any length of time.”
Tyrone flinched. “You mean, she might have mental problems.”
“Perhaps. I'm not saying she will, but I have to give you the possibilities. You understand?”
Tyrone nodded his head, wiped his hand across his dry lips. “Yes sir. Thank you.”
Stephon stepped in front of the group. His voice was harsh as he asked, “When can I see her?”
“As far as I'm concerned, Miss Riggs can have visitors according to the ICU policy, but since this is also a police case, I'm leaving that up to Lieutenant Steinberg.” He turned, nodded to the detective and the assemblage, and left the room.
Stephon put both hands on his hips and stared defiantly at the detective. “Well? Can I see her now?”
Steinberg shook his head. “Fraid not, son. I've decided it would be in Miss Riggs' best interest to allow only two visitors. The two would be her brother and Mrs. Beachum.”
“What's the big idea? I'm her boyfriend. I have a right to see her.”
The detective's voice became hard, but he gave Stephon a smile. “You'll be able to see her when I think it's safe. I'll let you know.”
Tyrone took Stephon's arm and pulled him aside. “It's okay, Bro. They know what's best. I'll tell Keisha you've been waiting out here all night, and that you'll see her soon.”
“Sure. Fine.”
Fonnie's thoughts were in turmoil. She was delighted she was going to be allowed to see Keisha, but she was disturbed by Stephon's attitude. Was it the natural result of his anxiety and fatigue? And why was Lieutenant Steinberg refusing to allow him and others in to see Keisha?
Fonnie had several questions she wanted to ask, but wasn't sure now was an appropriate time. She was glad when Brian spoke up. “Sir, the doctor said Keisha couldn't talk, but is she able to communicate in other ways—in writing or body language?”
“She apparently understands simple questions and can give positive or negative responses. That's as far as we've gone so far.”
Fonnie felt someone bump her elbow and she turned to see a young woman with a camera in her hand. The woman waved to get the detective's attention and shouted out her question. “Does she know who did this to her?”
Steinberg glared at the interloper. “This is no place for reporters. If you will be at the police station at nine o'clock, I'll have a statement for the press then.”
The young woman shrugged and said to no one in particular, “You can't blame a gal for trying.” She slung her camera over her arm and turned her back. Several pairs of eyes shot daggers at her as she left.
The gal was definitely out of order, Fonnie thought, but she had voiced the question everyone was probably wondering.
After Lieutenant Steinberg left, Fonnie approached the nurse and asked when she and Tyrone would be allowed to visit. “It'll be at least an hour,” the nurse said. She's due for respiratory therapy and other treatments. I'll come get you.”
“You boys might better go get cleaned up and get some breakfast,” Fonnie said to Brian and Tyrone. “Jeremiah and I will man the fort while you're gone.”
“I may not be back this morning,” Brian said. “I've got to spend some time with Hank. I haven't even had a chance to talk to him about the arrangements for Melanie.” He blinked back tears. “You know, Gram. I really did like her.”
Fonnie couldn't say anything. She hoped Brian would never hear all the derogatory comments that had made the rounds about Melanie's reputation. Maybe he could remember her as a sweet beautiful girl.
“Stephon and I will be back as soon as we can,” Tyrone said to Fonnie. “Stephon wants to be here even if he can't see her.”
“I understand.”
Fonnie turned to Jeremiah who had been standing quietly by her side for the past several minutes. “You're awfully quiet this morning. A penny for your thoughts.”
“I've been watching and listening. Let's find some comfortable chairs and compare notes.”
They settled themselves close to the ICU door where they could see the police officer on duty. “I wonder how long they'll keep a guard here,” Fonnie said.
“As long as necessary. As long as there's a killer on the loose.” Jeremiah leaned back and crossed one leg over the over. “Which brings up one point I'm concerned about. Why is Stephon barred from seeing Keisha? Reckon the police regard him as a suspect?”
“Of course not. Remember, they've barred everyone except Tyrone and me. And that includes you and Brian. They simply want to be sure she's not overwhelmed with visitors. Makes sense to me.”
“I guess so. But what about this business of her not being able to talk? You think that's for real? Or is it some kind of cover?”
“I don't know why the doctor would mislead us on that. At any rate, I'll find out when they let me in. I hope it's soon.”
The wait was less than an hour. Fonnie was on her second cup of coffee when the nurse came up to her and led her through the double doors. There'd been many changes in hospitals and especially in intensive care units since she'd done active nursing. One thing never changed though, and that was the permeating odor of antiseptics. Fonnie inhaled deeply of the remembered scent. It brought a measure of comfort. Keisha was where she needed to be, was receiving the best of care.
Fonnie approached the bed warily, not knowing exactly what to expect. Her last view of Keisha had been on a gurney being wheeled into an ambulance—her face battered and bloody, her breathing barely perceptible. She lay now with her head slightly elevated, her hair combed neatly, a small bandage over her left eye, her hospital gown pulled high up on her neck, and oxygen tubing in her nostrils. Her eyes were partially open, and she had a peaceful look on her face.
“Good morning, Keisha,” Fonnie said softly. She went over to the side of the bed opposite the IV pole. “You look good.”
Keisha's lips curved slig
htly upward, her hand went to her throat.
“That's all right,” Fonnie said. “You needn't try to talk. I'll just sit with you a little.” She pulled up a straight back chair and placed it within Keisha's line of vision. “Tyrone's gone back to the motel to take a shower. He was here all night and will be back shortly.” Again Keisha looked as if she wanted to smile, but couldn't quite make her lips follow her command. Her eyelids fluttered, popped open, and then closed again.
The nurse came over. “I had to give her more morphine after her respiratory therapy. She'll sleep for a while now.”
Fonnie gave Keisha's hand a pat, and backed away. The nurse walked with her to the door. “She's doing well. She's going to be fine.”
“Has she said anything at all?”
“No. She wants to, but the swelling is still too much. We're giving her medication for it. She might be able to talk by tomorrow.”
“Do you think she remembers what happened?”
“Up to a point. She was able to demonstrate to the police how she was grabbed from behind and choked. But when asked if she saw her attacker's face or knew who it was, she indicated she didn't. She doesn't seem to remember being rescued or who rescued her.”
“Did she know her brother when he came in last night?”
The nurse shrugged. “I wasn't on duty then. The night nurse didn't comment on it, so I don't know.”
“Thanks,” Fonnie said. “Tyrone, her brother, should be back soon. Can he come in then?”
“Of course. Have him knock on the door when he gets here.”
A short while later Tyrone and Stephon came back looking once again like respectable young men.
“Anything new?” Stephon asked.
“I saw her for a few minutes,” Fonnie said. “She looks good. She tried to smile, then she went back to sleep.” Fonnie turned to Tyrone. “The nurse said you could go in when you got back.”
“Great. Oh, I called Pop again,” Tyrone said. “Since Keisha is doing well now, I talked him into staying home. He agreed he was too tired to travel, but he said was scheduling a victory celebration at the church for tonight. They'll be praising the Lord so loud we'll probably be able to hear them way up here.”
“Your pop has the right idea,” Jeremiah said. “I wish we could have a celebration of our own at the Shepherd's chapel, but it hardly seems appropriate, with Hank planning Melanie's funeral.”
“I know,” Tyrone said. “I wish it could have been a happy ending for everyone. Brian's having a rough time. On the way up here he kept telling me how beautiful Melanie was.”
Stephon rubbed the back of his neck. “Melanie had outward beauty, that's for sure, but she couldn't hold a candle to Keisha when it came to inward beauty.” He let out a deep sigh. “Oh God, why won't they let me see her? I'm going crazy.”
“Hang in there,” Jeremiah said. “They won't let me in either, you know. But maybe the police will have a change of heart later today.” He steered Stephon over to a seat. “Come on, we just have to wait it out.”
Tyrone knocked on the ICU door and was let in. Fonnie pretended interest in a Woman's Day magazine while Jeremiah sipped coffee and Stephon paced.
In a few minutes Tyrone came stumbling out, tears streaming down his face. He collapsed in a chair and moaned. Stephon tore to his side. “What? What happened?”
“She fought me. She hit me.” Tyrone choked on a huge sob. “She didn't want me to be near her.” He swiped angrily at his eyes. “The nurse said I upset Keisha and that I had to leave. But I didn't do anything to upset her. It's like she just went crazy all of a sudden.”
“I don't understand,” Fonnie said. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing. That is, I told her she looked great and that she'd soon be able to go home. She had her eyes half closed, but I'm sure she recognized me, knew my voice. Then she went berserk, scratching and clawing at me. She tried to cry out, but could only make a rattling noise. I backed away and tried to reason with her. That's when the nurse came running up and chased me out.”
“That doesn't make sense,” Stephon said. “You must have said something to set her off.”
Tyrone shook his head. “I tell you I didn't. I don't know what happened.”
“Maybe I know,” Jeremiah said. Three puzzled faces turned toward the old man. “She may have had a flashback as in post-traumatic syndrome. After all, she's been through her own private war. You may have triggered something that put her back in the midst of her battle. She wasn't fighting you, Tyrone. She was fighting her attacker.”
“Yes. That must be the explanation,” Fonnie said. “If only we knew what the trigger had been. You have to tell Lieutenant Steinberg about it. Tell him everything.”
Steinberg, however, did not return to the hospital that morning to hear about Keisha's flashback. He was busy conferring with Midge Garrison and others at the motel about Buzz's autopsy results.
Fonnie learned later that Brian was on the scene when the grim-faced detective came into the motel looking for Midge. He found her on the verandah surrounded by everyone there who had been in the wedding party except those keeping watch at the hospital.
When Brian got to the hospital he reported the interview just as it had unfolded; Fonnie and the others listened quietly.
Lieutenant Steinberg slumped down in a vacant chair, motioned everyone to stay. “All of you might as well hear this. We have received Mr. Garrison's autopsy report. His death was the result of a massive overdose of Clonidine, a medication used for high blood pressure, also known as Catapres.” He raised his hand to forestall questions and comments. “One symptom of an overdose could be nausea. A massive overdose would result in dyspnea or difficult breathing, a slowing of the heart rate, and finally heart failure. Its effects are increased when taken with alcohol. It comes in tablet form, but could have been crushed and added to his food or beverage. Mr. Garrison's death is now being considered a homicide.”
The ensuing silence was broken by a series of sobs from Midge as she clutched the arms of her chair. There were gasps from others as they stared at the detective. It was a few moments before anyone spoke, then Edgar's forceful voice asked, “But couldn't it have been an accident? Maybe he took extra blood pressure medicine on his own.”
Midge shook her head wildly. “My Buzz didn't take blood pressure medicine. His blood pressure was fine.” She dabbed at her eyes, then wadded the tissue into a tight ball. “But who would want to kill Buzz?”
“Our investigation is just beginning. We'll find the answer in time. Right now it seems that he may have been given some of the drug in the days before the wedding, which would account for his flu symptoms. Then a massive dose was administered in a drink at the reception, causing him to collapse.”
Clara sat forward in her chair, stared hard at Steinberg. “If the poisoning started before he arrived here, then it had to be someone who was with him in Florida. Is that right, Lieutenant?”
“If that's the case.”
Clara leaned back with a look of relief on her face, and Brian noticed she flashed a big smile at Tony. Tony was studying the floor.
“But you don't know for a fact,” Hank said, “that the poisoning started in Florida. Do you?”
Steinberg didn't answer the question. “What we do know for a fact is that we have the glass he drank from at the reception and it has traces of Clonidine in it.”
“Isn't that interesting?” Lula said. “And where did you find that?”
Again the detective didn't answer. He turned to Midge. “As I said before, our investigation is just beginning. However, the body is being released for burial and you can make your arrangements.”
“You mean we can take him home now?”
Steinberg nodded. “I'm sorry for the delay. You understand the local medical examiner held the body as a precautionary measure since he couldn't determine the cause of death.”
Midge fished in her pocket for another tissue, swiped at her tears. “Of course. I understand.
”
Edgar came over and put his arm around her. “You go on to your room now and rest. I'll take care of everything.”
“Thank you. It's such a comfort to have you here.”
Doris rose and went over to Midge. “I'll go up with you, help you start packing.”
Hank waited until Midge and Doris had gone into the lobby, then he scooted his chair closer to Steinberg. “What about Melanie?” His voice cracked. “Can I take her home too? I'm the only family she had left. Her parents are buried in an old family cemetery near Richmond. That's where I'll put her to rest.” He caught his breath. “Poor sweet Melanie.”
“I'll let you know. We should have her autopsy results soon.”
Steinberg rose to leave, but Hank had one more question. “You think the same guy is responsible?”
“It's too early to comment on that.”
Brian followed Steinberg as he strode through the lobby. The detective turned to him. “How's your grandmother holding up under the strain?”
“Fairly well. She's putting up a good front, but she's really worried about Keisha.”
“We all are. It's a miracle Miss Riggs survived, and we're going to make sure nothing else happens to her. Are you going to the hospital now?”
“Yes sir. I'll tell Gram you were asking about her.” Brian hesitated. “But I'd like to ask you a question if I may.”
“Sure. What is that?”
“The glass you said you found that Buzz drank from—that contained the drug—was that the fragment of a glass you found in Keisha's room?”
“That it was. Contrary to popular opinion, we were not ignoring Garrison's death. We had his fingerprints and so when we found the glass we checked it out. Had his prints on it as well as several others, probably kitchen staff, but we're still making comparisons. Finding the glass in Miss Riggs’ room brought up several questions. Was Miss Riggs suspicious of somebody and so saved the piece of glass? Did she see someone messing with Buzz's drink? If she was suspicious, why didn't she tell the police immediately? And lastly, was she trying to blackmail someone and almost got herself killed as a result?”
Murder and Misdeeds Page 14