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

by Janet Lane-Walters

  I paused. “Is there something I can do to help?"

  She looked up. “It's just...Dad...It hurts to see him so helpless. A week ago, he was golfing. Now he can't even feed himself. The stroke has robbed him."

  "And you are?"

  "Jean Lewis. Mr. Greene's daughter."

  One of the new admissions. “How long ago did he have the stroke?"

  "Four days."

  "I haven't seen him yet, but there's always hope with therapy, he'll improve."

  "I pray he will.” She wiped her eyes. “Then there's my brother's attitude. He insists we're wasting money keeping Dad here. Bob's so greedy."

  "Are you and your brother paying the bill?"

  She shook her head. “We couldn't afford that. It's Dad's money. I know he'd want to be here and not in some cheaper place."

  I noticed Teresa hovering in the doorway of a nearby room. Was she gathering information on another potential victim? Would she corner Mr. Greene's son? I stepped away. “Are you feeling calmer now?"

  Mrs. Lewis smiled. “Thanks for listening. You're very kind."

  "Part of the job."

  The second new patient had no visitors, but they could have come during the day. Both new arrivals seemed to be the type who would linger for months and even years. Once I had some information, I could ask Richard to check on the families.

  When the patients finished dinner and either returned to their rooms or remained in the recreation room on the first floor, Teresa and I went to the staff lounge for our dinner. I brewed tea, a blend designed to help digest my food and keep me alert.

  "That smells refreshing,” Teresa said.

  "Would you like a cup? It's my own blend."

  "I think I will.” She passed her cup to me. “You handled Mr. Greene's daughter nicely."

  "She needed to express her fears and hold onto a dollop of hope."

  Teresa frowned. “Hope? For most of the residents, there isn't much. They've reached the end of their roads. I wouldn't want to linger as half a person."

  I chewed and swallowed some of the broiled chicken. Was she the one? Her attitude raised my suspicions, but she said no more. I couldn't think of questions that wouldn't reveal my intentions. For now, all I could do was listen and observe in hopes of finding facts to present to the police. I would rather this was in their hands.

  When the shift ended, while Teresa gave report to the night staff, I jotted the family information on the new patients. I believed one of them was a candidate for an early demise.

  * * * *

  The next morning I was in the garden picking some fresh mint. Then I planned to pot some plants for the bazaar. Richard arrived. He paused to watch. “Do you ever sit still?"

  I chuckled. “Frequently."

  "What are you doing?"

  "A bit of harvesting and then I'll pot some plants for the bazaar.” From my pocket, I pulled the information I'd copied from the charts of the new patients. “See if you can learn anything about these people."

  "More deaths?” he asked.

  "Not yet, but I think one of them might be next."

  He pocketed the paper. “Be careful. If someone is killing people, they could be dangerous."

  "I'm aware of the possibility."

  Jenna stepped onto the porch. “I'm ready."

  Richard turned but not before I saw his eyes light with pleasure. After they left I finished the gardening and relaxed on the porch until I needed to get ready for work. When I arrived at Hudson House, I was surprised to see Teresa. “Are you working the entire weekend?"

  "Depends on what you consider the weekend. Molly and I prefer Friday and Saturday as our pass days. Gives me one day for appointments and shopping and one for play. Working evenings means I can have a late Saturday and sleep in on Sunday."

  "Never thought of it that way.” I followed her to the elevator.

  * * * *

  As usual on Sunday morning, I rode to church with the Duggans. As Pete stopped in front of the church to let us out, I paused before opening the door. “Don't forget to wait for me."

  "You have a fight with Andrew?” Pete asked.

  "I'm on duty at three."

  He rolled his eyes. “Forgot you were playing undercover nurse."

  "One of these days I'll prove there's a real problem there."

  Beth followed me up the walk. On the landing, we spoke with several women about the bazaar. Marie drafted Beth to act as a cashier.

  Once Marie walked away, Beth shook her head. “Next time, I'll run."

  "You did admit you were off and you planned to attend."

  "Got me.” She pulled me toward the door. “What's it like at Hudson House?"

  "Not bad. Census is around thirty. There are six of us on the evening shift. Dinner is provided for the staff and the food is excellent. There are usually several private aides. The patients receive great care."

  Pete put his hands on Beth's shoulders. “They pay a pretty price."

  "It's their money,” I said.

  "Gotcha."

  Robby took my hand. We entered the sanctuary and found our seats.

  That afternoon when I arrived at Hudson House, Molly left her car and caught up with me. “How are you settling in?"

  "Fairly well. Only problem I have is sleeping late after an evening here."

  "Why would you want to get up early?” she asked. “The best thing about this shift is sleeping in mornings."

  "Habit. I'm used to a daily walk."

  "After a tour here, you don't need the exercise.” She paused. “You can do meds."

  "No problem. Teresa said you don't like doing them."

  Molly nodded. “Made a serious mistake once and a patient nearly died. Spooked me. I get all jittery and it takes me double the time."

  We entered the foyer, took report in the staff lounge and settled into the routine. While Molly and I ate our dinner, loud voices in the hall drew us to our feet. Molly reached the door first. “Finish your dinner. I'll handle this."

  I wanted to see who was involved in the quarrel so I opened the door a crack. The woman I'd spoken to on Friday evening shouted at a man. His coloring and profile told me he was Mrs. Lewis’ brother, the one who resented the expense of keeping their father at Hudson house.

  Molly spoke softly. She led the pair down the hall to the nurses’ station. Since I couldn't hear what was being said, I returned to my dinner. When I finished, I left to do the six o'clock meds. Mr. Greene's son stomped past me. Mrs. Lewis looked angry. The son halted and returned. “This is the one,” he said.

  Molly rose. “Katherine, I understand you told Mrs. Lewis, her father would recover and go home."

  I shook my head. “That is not what I said. I told her that with therapy he would improve, I didn't promise a miracle."

  Mr. Greene's son glared. “My dear sister entertains false hopes and my hands are tied. Long before the stroke, he named her as the person to make all decisions regarding her care. So we're stuck with this place eating money we can use."

  Molly touched his arm. “This is no time for family quarrels. Wait a week or two, then speak to your sister in a calm manner.” Once he left, she turned to me. “There's a downside to working here. These family squabbles exhaust me. Good thing I won't be here forever."

  "Are you leaving soon?"

  She shrugged. “It'll be years before I reach retirement age, but I'm always reading the ads. Let me finish dinner. By the time meds are done, I'll be ready to help with treatments and evening care."

  That night when I left work, I suspected Mr. Greene would be the next patient to die. How long did the arrangements take? Was the hand to be Molly's or Teresa's? Perhaps they worked as a team.

  As far as personal preferences, mine had changed. I didn't want either woman to be the culprit. After working two evenings with Teresa, I realized she hid kindness beneath a gruff exterior. Molly was a joy as a co-worker. But I couldn't allow liking to sway me. In the past people I had liked had turned out to
be killers. I had to keep an open mind and continue my search for proof.

  At home, I brewed a cup of mint tea and mulled the situation. I had to see those charts and see if the pair had been working every evening one of the victims had died. The charts held records of the patients’ conditions and the codes. The records might give me a clue to what had been used. The stock supply of emergency drugs came to mind. Who kept track of what was used?

  Without speaking to Pauline, I could go no further. Would she dismiss me as a crank? Had she wanted me to work at Hudson House because she feared a problem was developing on the evening shift? Her mention of the labs we'd aced in college pointed that way. The time to unite as a team had arrived.

  When I finished the tea, I went to bed. As though he sensed my troubled spirits, Robespierre curled against my back. His rumbling purrs lulled me to sleep.

  * * * *

  When I called to speak to Pauline, I learned she was attending a three day conference in the city. I slumped on the window seat. What now? I asked the secretary about the evening schedule for the rest of the month. Molly and Teresa wouldn't be working together until next week. I prayed that would give me time.

  In preparation for a day of gardening, I filled a thermos with iced mint tea. The phone rang. I lifted the receiver and heard Lars’ deep voice. “Quick response,” he said.

  "I'm in the kitchen."

  "Cooking?"

  "I was on my way to the garden to pot mint for the bazaar. Let me take this in the living room. Moments later, I settled on the window seat. “So what's up?"

  "What's this I hear about you pushing yourself to exhaustion. Avoiding dinner at your son's and skipping your morning walks."

  "Andrew and Pete,” I said. “The next time they call, tell them to butt out."

  "I just don't understand why you're doing this."

  I drew a deep breath. “Because I must.” Though the urge to slam the receiver down was strong, I refrained. I'd never verbalized my guilt over not calling Marcus to report his mother's condition. I also wondered what would have happened if I had stayed at her bedside and added my urgings to the doctor's. Would she still be alive?

  "Pete mentioned your suspicions. Do you really believe someone at Hudson House is a murderer?” He paused. “I know Martha's death was a shock, but murder..."

  "Yes, I believe that's what happened."

  He growled. “What am I going to do with you? Quit this job and forget about solving crimes."

  Anger roiled my gut. I knew he loved me, but he had no right to order my life. Even if we married, I wouldn't allow him to dictate my actions. “I won't quit. Jenna and I need to know the truth. An old friend is Director of Nursing at Hudson House. Even before Martha died, Pauline asked me to come to work. She suspected something was wrong. Her career could be at risk."

  "So could your life. Kate, I love you. I don't want you hurt in this pursuit for the truth."

  I grasped the receiver. “Remember what happened at your house. Who saved the day?"

  "You did."

  "Enough said. I really believe Martha was murdered for her money. I need to learn who arranged for her death. I also think there were seven other people murdered."

  "Be careful.” His voice softened.

  "Always."

  He laughed. “Aren't you the woman who drank tea with the man who killed her tenant?"

  "He wouldn't have harmed me. He was an ill and angry man desperate to save two children from their mother's wickedness.” I drew a deep breath. “What's happening with you?"

  "Sold most of Bonnie's furniture, clothes and jewelry through an auction house. What didn't sell, I donated to charity. The money's in a trust for Megan. Only right since she was partly responsible for my granddaughter being without her mother. There's a lot of money from the company that will never be recovered."

  "Bonnie's house."

  "Might be a binder on it this week."

  "So you just might make it home before August."

  "Count on it. Then we'll make plans for a summer wedding."

  I frowned. “We'll talk. There are some serious issues I would rather debate face to face. Like where to live.” I love my “Painted Lady but the apartment would be a tight fit for two adults and a cat. Lars’ house was a mansion and more than I wanted. Besides, there are my neighbors and the proximity to the river. How could I give those up?

  "Kate, I promise all problems about where to live, money and anything else you can dream up will be solved.” He chuckled. “I promise not to become a bully. And trust me to know what's bothering you. Face to face is best."

  "Thank you.” After I hung up, I thought of the financial end of a marriage between us. Lars has ten times the money. Maybe living together was the best choice, but I don't believe I could persuade him to take that step.

  * * * *

  Thursday was my second day of work for the week. To my surprise, Molly and Teresa were off. Jill, the other part-timer was working an extra day so Molly could take some personal time.

  Though Pauline had returned from the conference, there wasn't time after report for a private talk. What I needed to tell her was a matter of a lengthy explanation of my suspicions and the reason for my request to see the charts. I made an appointment to see her early the next afternoon.

  Immediately after dinner, Mr. Greene's son approached me. “Where are the regular nurses?"

  "They're off."

  'Damn, I needed to speak to one of them."

  "Who?"

  He looked away. “I'm not sure of her name.” He moved toward his father's room.

  "Maybe I can help you."

  "You've already done enough."

  "Do you want to speak to the blonde or the one with sandy hair?"

  He didn't answer. I stared after him. Which of my co-workers did he want to see? Had he come to make payment arrangements? If so, how? I doubted the deaths were done gratis. A bank would flag large amounts of cash withdrawn or deposited. Maybe the payments were items that could be converted to cash.

  Like Martha's diamonds. Was that why Marcus so desperately wanted them? Now I had another thing for Richard to track. Were any of the dead or the family members collectors?

  Questions multiplied like flies on too ripe fruit. How long after a family member made a request was action taken? Was there some kind of down payment required? Was that why Mr. Greene's son had come? The most important question remained. Who was the killer? Molly or Teresa?

  I ducked into the nurses’ station and studied the schedule. The pair didn't work together until Monday. Was there enough time for me to fit the pieces together before the killer acted?

  * * * *

  After my morning walk, I labeled jars of mint tea for the bazaar on Saturday. My freezer bulged with cookies and I assembled them into boxes and tins for transporting to the church.

  The phone rang. I was surprised to hear Pauline. Had she called to cancel our appointment? I couldn't let that happen? “What's up?"

  "I need to move our meeting until three thirty. Or we could make it for early next week."

  "Three thirty is fine."

  "Don't tell me you're quitting."

  "Not at the moment.” I didn't mention if what I believed was happening, there might be no jobs at Hudson House. There was a good possibility she would lose both full-time evening nurses. Not to mention the scandal that would erupt. Hudson House might be forced to close.

  At three, I gathered the data I'd collected and left the house. After parking in the nursing home lot, I leaned back in my seat and planned what I needed to say. Shortly before my scheduled time I made my way to the front entrance and strode down the hall to Pauline's office.

  "You look like this is serious,” she said.

  "And complicated."

  "Go ahead. I have time."

  I began with the story of Robby's classmate. “That set my wheels turning."

  Pauline nodded. “That family was nothing but trouble. Mr. Cifon was an only child. Every
day I heard a new tale of how he had hit his mother up for money. His wife accused one of the aides of theft, but it turned out the son had taken the gold bracelet."

  I held up my hand. “There's more. Just listen.” I continued with the things Martha had related, then finished with the encounter with Mr. Greene's son. Then I spread my research on the desk.

  Pauline studied the data I'd uncovered. “This is worse than I imagined. I thought one of more of the evening staff was shaking down the families or patients by demanding gifts for extra care. How did I miss this?"

  "You weren't looking for murders and you didn't know most of these patients controlled their own wealth."

  "What about Mr. Greene? His son sure acts like he controls how the money is spent."

  "He has no say. The daughter had power of attorney. I gather Mrs. Lewis and her brother are at odds over his being here."

  "How can we prove what happened and stop another event?"

  I leaned forward. “We have to learn who's responsible."

  "How?"

  "We'll have to dig. When did Molly and Teresa start working here?"

  She crossed the room to the file cabinet and unlocked the top drawer. “Let's see. Molly has been here four months and Teresa, two weeks less."

  That fit the time when the deaths had begun to escalate. “From all I can see, the trouble began about three months ago. Did Molly recommend Teresa?"

  Pauline opened both folders. “Not that I can see."

  "What about former places of employment? Any common facilities?"

  "No duplicates. Now what?"

  "Some digging into their backgrounds. I know a young man who might be able to learn if a rash of deaths happened at any of the places where they worked. We'll need a list of where, plus the women's addresses and phone numbers.” I began on one application while Pauline took the other.

  "Should I call the police?” she asked.

  "I spoke to a friend on the force. We can't prove any murders occurred, and persuading the police to exhume the bodies will take more than our suspicions."

  "Like those cases we've read about.” She sighed. “You're right but I'd rather hand this over to someone else."