Hudson House Murders [Book 4 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries]

by Janet Lane-Walters

  "How can that man blame Jenna? She was only seventeen."

  Lars cleared his throat. “Would it do any good if I told you to avoid becoming involved in the situation?"

  "Probably not.” I took a deep voice and changed the subject. “Don and Megan were here for dinner last week. In case he didn't tell you, on the days he's in the city, Megan will stay at Sarah's. Her foster daughter is in the same class."

  "That's great."

  For a bit longer, we discussed family and friends. After I hung up, I decided I was fortunate he remained in New Mexico. I intended to see Jenna reunited with her grandmother and see the real story of the accident was brought into the open. Lars would try to stop me. By now, he should know that was impossible.

  * * * *

  On Monday morning, Beth called to say Martha had just left for Hudson House. I smiled at the relief I heard in her voice. “Not going to miss your star patient?"

  "I'll miss her but not her son. That man had a thousand complaints, not to mention hurling advice on how to run the unit for efficiency and profit."

  This time, I laughed. “At least he didn't bar you from his mother's room."

  "He tried, but I told him that as manager of the Surgical Unit, his mother and her care were my responsibility. He's such a gentleman at church and an ogre here."

  "At the hospital, he sees you as a servant, not an equal. He doesn't have to be nice to servants."

  "Thank you for your insight.” She hung up.

  I went down to Jenna's apartment and caught her at the door. “Your grandmother has been sprung from prison."

  She chuckled. “I'll pop in at Hudson House to see her before class. Uncle Marcus and Sophie leave tomorrow morning for a cruise. She needs to recover from the stress of taking care of Gran."

  "Where did you hear that?"

  "At the restaurant yesterday. People will talk about others and I can't help hearing.” She shook her head. “Sophie's so phony."

  I nodded. “Perhaps cutting her lunches at the club short and foregoing shopping in the city was stressful and a sacrifice. Tell Martha I'll stop by tomorrow morning and hope I'm not interrupting some therapy session."

  "I will. I'll let you know about her schedule after class. Is ten too late?"

  "I seldom go to bed before the eleven o'clock news is finished. See you then."

  That evening after dinner, I played the piano for an hour. My fingers aren't as supple as they once were, but the activity is relaxing and allows me to think.

  Jenna arrived shortly after ten. Robespierre followed her inside. We performed the usual food routine, then I offered her hot or cold mint tea. When I put several brownies on a plate, she took one, tasted and sighed. “What about opening a bakery?"

  "Too much work. You look happy."

  "Been a good day. Got an A on the Psych test. Gran and I had a long talk about the accident. I think she believes me."

  "That's good news, but...” I couldn't decide how to frame my fears.

  "Is there a problem with Gran and me being reconciled?"

  "No, yes, I'm not sure. I'm worried about how your uncle will react when he returns."

  "Gran said she'd handle him. I think he's worried that someone else will inherit."

  "I'm sure you're right."

  "I told Gran I didn't want any of her money.” Jenna leaned forward. “Told her as a nurse I might not be rich, but I wouldn't starve. Nurses are always in demand."

  "How did she react?"

  "She laughed. I did ask her for some of the things I left behind when I split. She said she'd taken care of that and had packed them away in the attic. When she goes home, I'll get them."

  "I still can't help fearing your uncle will cause trouble."

  She lifted the mug. “When I was younger, I ran because I was afraid of him. I won't back away now."

  "What about accepting help from your grandmother?"

  She shook her head. “I'm better off earning my own way. Mark was twenty-five and he'd never worked. All because Granddad and then Gran gave him everything he asked for. Not me. I worked when I lived with Gran. Mark thought I was dumb. So did Sophie.” She ate the second brownie.

  "You're an amazing young woman."

  She shook her head. “More like ordinary, but independent. I've had to be. Living with my mom was good for learning self-reliance. I'd better go. I've Anatomy lab at eight."

  After she left, I watched the news and prepared for bed. I felt as though a storm brewed. Knowing the uneasy feelings would keep me awake, I picked up a book from the bedside table and began to read.

  * * * *

  After my walk, I puttered around the apartment. Once the neighborhood children had left for school, I put some cookies and cinnamon rolls in a tin and walked across the street to Sarah's house. This visit was often part of my routine. Maria and the baby joined us for a gossip session about our neighbors and the recent events in town.

  "It's been quiet lately,” Sarah said. “What we need is a good scandal. Maybe you could find a body."

  "Bite your tongue,” I said. “I've come across enough to last a lifetime."

  Maria shook her head. “Mrs. Sarah would not like the scandal if one came to her house."

  "True,” Sarah said. “How's old Mrs. Garner?"

  "Recovering at Hudson House.” I looked at the clock. “I'm visiting her a bit later this morning."

  "You won't forget your day to sit with the infants,” Sarah said.

  "Have I ever?"

  "Mrs. Miller is most dependable,” Maria said.

  Sarah nodded. “I know.” She looked up. “Did you know the house at the foot of the street is for sale?"

  "They want much money,” Maria said. “Paul ask."

  "The way real estate prices have soared around here, they won't have any trouble finding a buyer to meet their price.” The house Sarah spoke of was one of my favorites with its view of the river from the living room and the master bedroom. I've often considered selling my Victorian and moving to a smaller house on a single level. The idea has never gone beyond thought. “I hope whoever buys will fit into the neighborhood better than the current owners."

  The grandfather clock in the hall chimed ten times. After I finished my tea, I went home and filled a tin with cookies for Martha to eat or share. Then I drove to Hudson House. The large mansion on the river had been converted into a luxurious nursing home. Only the exterior and the gardens remained. Two wings had been added to provide patient and therapy rooms. As I strolled along the tree-shaded walk to the front door, I noticed several residents sitting in the sun.

  I paused at the desk in the spacious foyer and asked for Mrs. Garner's room number. While the young woman checked the patient list, I tensed. Had Marcus left orders restricting visitors? Surely not since Jenna had been able to see her grandmother.

  Once I had the location, I climbed the broad staircase to the second floor. I could have used one of the elevators, but exercise is healthy. I tapped on the door of the room

  "Come in,” Martha called.

  She sat in a wheelchair. Her hair had been washed and styled. “You're looking grand."

  "The least they can do with what I'm paying. A beautician comes in three mornings a week."

  I looked around the spacious room. The electric bed faced the door. Near the window alcove, a love seat and an upholstered chair had been placed so the garden and the river could be seen. A partially open door revealed a large bathroom. Bright prints decorated the walls.

  "So how is the service?” I asked.

  "Couldn't be better. Do you think you could push me to the elevator? I haven't mastered this contraption and I'd like to go to the garden so we can talk."

  "No problem. Hasn't been that long since I pushed one for a living."

  She reached for a fleecy shawl. “I'm so glad I'm not in the hospital what a boring stay. I don't know what came over Marcus to make him restrict visitors.” She held her handbag on her lap.

  After unlocking t
he brakes, I pushed her along the hall to one of the elevators. We exited on the ground floor and moved through what had been the ballroom and now was a dining/activity center. The wide French doors opened onto a terrace where a ramp allowed easy access to the gardens. I found a sunny spot beside a white bench.

  "Why all the secrecy?” I asked.

  She heaved a sigh. “The intercom."

  Her answer puzzled me. Yes, health care facilities had intercom systems, but listening in on conversations was difficult. Sometimes, the static and crackle made the patients who called for help hard to hear. “What don't you want heard?"

  "In a minute.’ She clutched her purse to her chest. “Yesterday afternoon, I heard the man across the hall arguing with one of his sons. The man refused to sign some kind of paper. The son shouted. ‘If you don't, you're signing your death warrant. I need the power of attorney. Steve is just the one to see you dead.’ A nurse sent the son away."

  "Sounds like a family quarrel. People often say things they don't mean when they're upset."

  "That man died last night. I heard the nurses call the code and saw them pushing that red cart into the room."

  "Are you sure the one who died was the same man you heard earlier?"

  "His room was directly across the hall from mine."

  "Do you know why he was here?"

  She shook her head. “Another odd thing happened at dinner. One of the other residents asked why my neighbor hadn't come to the dining room. He said they had planned a card game. The aide said the patient was too tired to leave his bed."

  "He could have had a relapse."

  "I suppose. When I asked the nurse what had happened, she said he'd had a heart attack. She also said deaths were expected when people are old and in poor health. I just thought his death coming so soon after the threat was odd."

  "Are you worried about yourself?"

  She shook her head. “No, but I am pushing eighty.” She frowned. “Last night, Marcus and I had words about Jenna. I don't understand his anger toward her. She wasn't the driver. He insists a witness saw her behind the wheel, but he refused to say who saw the accident. I told him I planned to make some changes in my will."

  "How did he react?"

  "Told me to think long and hard. I didn't tell him the changes had been made months ago. I mailed two letters to the attorney just before the accident. They'll explain why I acted the way I have."

  "Why not tell him?"

  "I wanted them to be surprised."

  Though a million questions swirled in my thoughts, I kept silent. “How are you feeling?"

  "Tired. A bit short of breath."

  "Have you noticed any swelling in your feet or ankles?"

  "Hard to tell when you're not moving about."

  "Why don't you ask Dr. Brookes to stop by?"

  "I tried to have him called, but the nurse said he didn't have privileges here. Hudson House has it's own doctor. He's nice, but he doesn't know me."

  I patted her hand. “I've an appointment with Dr. Brookes this afternoon. I'll talk to him. Perhaps he can speak to the doctor here."

  Her symptoms were vague, but the first thing I considered was congestive heart failure. The second was anemia. There'd been blood loss during surgery and I wandered if she'd had a transfusion or been ordered iron. If I could look at her chart, I would have a better idea of the problem. At this moment, I couldn't come up with a reason to pry.

  "Will you come by tomorrow?” she asked.

  "Of course. How long will Marcus and Sophie be gone? I'd rather not encounter them."

  "They'll be away for a week.” She met my gaze. “What new and radical idea have you sprung on the Elders?"

  "Nothing. He's angry because Jenna's my tenant. We had words about the way he threatened her."

  She sighed. “He worries about nothing. If he'd just talk to her, he'd see she's nothing like her mother.” She opened her purse. “I'd like you to go to the house and do something for me."

  "Of course.” I leaned forward. “Are you sure you're all right?"

  "I'm not planning to die, but I am of the age when it's a decided possibility.” She handed me a key and a business card. “This is for the house. See that Jenna gets the four boxes in the first room in the attic. They're labeled with her name. You could go any time to pick them up and here's a witnessed paper granting you access to the boxes."

  "Are you sure?"

  "These are things she asked for and a few other things.” She reached for my hand. “In the freezer, there's a small bag. Remove it when you go for the boxes. If anything happens to me, call the attorney on this card and take the key to him."

  "What an odd place to hide something."

  "I saw a television program where a woman kept important papers there. Oh, the attorney isn't the one I've always used. He and Marcus are golfing buddies. This man is my choice. He has my authorization to open the box and he'll know what to do with the contents."

  "Martha.” I wanted to ask for more information, but would she tell me? “All right. I'll do this."

  "Thank you.” She pressed my hand. “I'm not cutting Marcus out of my will. There are just some other things I want to do with some of the money."

  She turned the conversation to the bazaar held by the Women's Guild of the church twice a year. Martha regretted not being in on the planning for the spring event. She'd been an active member and was currently on the Board.

  "We could meet here."

  She chuckled. “Can you picture ten or twelve women invading? Though the sitting room is large enough, I'm not sure the other residents would approve."

  A woman in a bright blue uniform strode toward us. “Mrs. Garner, I've been looking everywhere for you. If you leave the building, you must leave word of your whereabouts. The physical therapist is waiting."

  I rose. “See you tomorrow.” I tucked the key and the card in my purse. I hoped Martha hadn't been touched by a premonition.

  * * * *

  At two, I arrived at the doctor's office and waited to be called. Finally, a nurse led me to an examining room, took my vitals and weight. After an endless wait, the door opened. Dr. Brookes stepped inside. “Kate, sorry to keep you waiting. I need either a new partner or fewer patients. Things look good. I'll reorder your med. Any other problems?"

  "None for me, but I'm concerned about Martha Garner."

  "How is she? When I saw her at the hospital, she was recovering beautifully from the surgery."

  "I'm not sure.” I related my observations and her vague complaints."

  He frowned. “Sounds like anemia. Wish I could help but I don't have privileges there."

  "Could you speak to the doctor?"

  He groaned. “I'm sure he has the situation under control. I don't want to butt in."

  "She'd feel better if you did."

  He walked with me to the waiting room. “I'll think about it. Is that all right?"

  "Have to be."

  "Will Lars be returning soon? We haven't had a decent bridge party for months."

  I laughed. “I'll let him know he's in demand for his card skills. As for when, as far as I know, he's hoping to be here by August at the latest. You'll have to be patient.” I tucked the prescription in my purse and handed one of the clerks the co-pay.

  * * * *

  My daily visits to Martha didn't ease my concern for my friend. Though her color gradually improved, she seemed to have more difficulty breathing and she seemed on edge. Her conversation centered on the second death in the two weeks since her arrival. “This time, I heard the family complaining."

  "About?"

  "The expense of staying here. How Aunt Marie was wasting their inheritance."

  "That's awful."

  "Marcus called from the cruise ship. They decided on two weeks. When I told him what I'd overheard, he laughed and asked me how I was enjoying his expectations.” She chuckled. “He's such a tease."

  Had he been joking? I was sure Martha could be here for years before
her assets melted away. “So when do you expect to go home?"

  "I'm not leaving until I can manage with a companion only at night. The physical therapist said two to three more weeks.” She smiled. “I thought I might ask Jenna to come live with me. Since she won't take money, this is one way I can help her. She's so different from Marcus’ daughters."

  "Yes, she is. Do you think she'll accept?"

  "All I can do is ask. Months ago, I made a codicil to my will. She'll be in for a surprise."

  "Have you told Marcus?"

  "Why? My will is my business. I had the addendum sent to my lawyer the day before my accident."

  "Legal?"

  "Signed, witnessed and notarized. I'm sure Marcus will learn as soon as he returns."

  "When will that be?"

  "Tomorrow. I've invited him and Sophie to have dinner with me."

  "He'll be upset."

  She sighed. “It's been five years and time to put the past to rest. Jenna told me what happened that dreadful day. I called an old friend, a retired police officer. He confirmed her story. There's another fact I learned a few months ago."

  "What?” I shouldn't have asked but my curiosity was too strong."

  "I'm not going to tell you."

  "Will whatever you're learned shocked Marcus]"

  "Katherine, you're as curious as that cat of yours."

  "Maybe more.” Someone tapped on the door. I went to see who had come.

  "Hi, Gran, Mrs. Miller.” Jenna breezed into the room.

  Since I knew how limited the young woman's time was, I turned to leave. “Martha, I won't be in tomorrow. Beauty parlor in the morning and child sitting all afternoon."

  She laughed. “When are you going to go gray?"

  "Never. I'll keep my one vanity. See you day after tomorrow. Do think about what you say to others.” As I left, I heard Jenna ask what I meant. Would Martha tell her?

  * * * *

  The next day, a misting rain fell, but that didn't deter my morning visit to the beauty parlor. The afternoon with the children, Sarah's twins and Maria's baby wasn't as much fun. Keeping them amused in the house meant being creative. When the mothers returned, I was exhausted. Three small children have more energy than they need. As I dashed across the street, Jenna pulled into the driveway. I waited for her on the porch.