The Swick and the Dead

by Maggie Foster

  Ginny turned more slowly and made her way back to the parking garage. She had a lot of thinking to do. Dr. Jones had been in the Medical ICU at the time Phyllis was killed. He’d been leading one of the Code teams. She’d seen him, and his name would undoubtedly be on the records.

  But, was it even possible? Could a man sworn to do no harm have throttled his own niece, no matter how mad he was at her? Ginny certainly didn’t want to think so.

  She drove home, went upstairs, pulled out her investigation spreadsheet, and got to work. In the course of a weekend, she’d gone from no motive to at least two. How many more would she find, if she kept digging?

  * * *

  Chapter 26

  Day 11 – Monday afternoon

  Hillcrest Medical Center

  Marjorie Hawkins glanced at her watch, then back at the door to ER Exam Room Three. She’d been told she could find Agent DeSoto inside. She pressed her lips together. She had every right to be here, a mandate, really, since it involved one of her nurses. She waited until the hallway was clear, then knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  She let herself in, and eyed the man who stood before her. She had seen him in conversation with Dr. Lyons at lunch last week. She stepped forward.

  “Agent DeSoto? I’m Marjorie Hawkins. I’m the Head Nurse over the Hillcrest ICUs.”

  He extended his hand. “Ms. Hawkins. I’m happy to meet you at last. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He gestured to a chair. “Please.”

  She sat down, then leaned back and crossed her legs. She had good legs and was wearing a wool skirt that draped nicely over her knees and thighs, displaying the shapely calves and slim ankles she had inherited from her grandmother. She worked hard to maintain a softly professional appearance, aware that she had little else to offer in the way of physical charms.

  “How may I help you?”

  “It’s about one of my nurses, Lisa Braden. On Sunday, at the Christmas party, she was overheard mentioning something about bulletproof vests. I met with her today and she told me all of the ER staff have been wearing them.”

  “That is correct.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “For their protection.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “My nurses have never needed that sort of protection before.”

  He spread his hands. “I owe you an apology, Ms. Hawkins. When this problem first came to our attention, we thought it would be confined to the Emergency Room. I should have realized the ICU staff might float down here, and included you in the planning. I hope you will forgive the oversight.” He smiled at her, a charming smile, and she almost smiled back.

  “I don’t like the thought of my staff in danger. We need them too much, and they are hard to replace. Perhaps,” she said, “if you could tell me what’s going on, we can come up with a plan.”

  He studied her face for a long moment, then nodded. “We’re interviewing drug users that come to the ER, trying to identify the source of the drugs. The nurses are caring for the patients and not directly involved in the interviews, but they may be in the room when one of the patients says something. We’re asking everyone to use discretion.”

  Marge nodded. “Shall I speak with my nurses?”

  “I think not. We can talk to them on an ‘as needed’ basis, but I thank you for the offer.”

  “If, as you say, there is limited danger to the nurses, then why the vests?”

  He shrugged. “An excess of caution. Hillcrest has a good security force and—so far—we’ve had no trouble. Was there anything else?”

  “Yes. I don’t normally get a copy of the staff schedules for the ER, but, under the circumstances, I would like as much advance warning as possible. If we can control the number of nurses who float, we can contain the gossip. Can you get me a copy of this month’s schedule?”

  “Let me ask.” He was gone five minutes, returning with a folded sheet of paper. He handed it to her. “Please let me know if you have any other concerns.”

  She rose, shook his hand, and let herself out.

  When she was back in her office, she took a look at the staffing schedule, then pulled up the Hillcrest directory. She sent copies of two of the photos to her personal e-mail account, then closed the program and tucked the schedule into her purse. She would scan that and add it to the file this evening.

  She pulled out the cell phone dedicated to her second job and selected a number. “I have the information you asked for. I’ll send it this evening.” She disconnected and put the device away. She would include a brief summary of what Lisa Braden and Agent DeSoto had told her as well.

  There was no way she could manipulate the schedule to ensure Ginny Forbes would float to the ER this week. There were no openings, and she could not force the issue. On the other hand, James Mackenzie would be on duty both of the next two nights. From six p.m. to seven a.m. anyone who might want to find him would know where to look. After that, it was out of her hands.

  * * *

  Monday afternoon

  Forbes residence

  When Ginny sat down at her computer on Monday afternoon to research Lisa Braden, she had no thoughts beyond trying to find a polite way to warn her off of Jim. Not because Jim was her, Ginny’s, property, but because he was being distracted. Himself had added this item to Ginny’s action plan toward the end of the hour, as a result of a comment Ginny had made about the scene at the Christmas party. The Laird had frowned, then thought for a moment, then suggested Lisa was a problem Jim didn’t need right now.

  Ginny had a number of tools loaded on her primary computer that let her search more thoroughly than a simple search engine could manage. She started with the images.

  Lisa had sent pictures of Jim and herself cozying up to one another at the ceilidh. Ginny pulled them out of her e-mail box and dropped them, one-by-one into the image search utility. Not surprisingly, Lisa had posted them on social media websites, with comments about how nice Jim had been to her, and his smile seemed to support her claim. If Ginny hadn’t known better, she would have believed the evidence of her own eyes.

  She added “Christmas” and “Xmas” and “party” to the search parameters and was not surprised to see the elf costume again. Ginny pulled each image into her photo manipulation software and examined it for discrepancies in the background and alignment. These did not appear to have been tampered with, but Jim didn’t appear in any of them. A wide variety of other men did.

  One search led to another. There were lots of pictures of Lisa enjoying herself in public. Ginny waded through an hour’s worth of Lisa in almost a hundred images, all just this side of indecent, then stopped collecting them. She had established a pattern going back several years and didn’t think she needed more. She was about to shut the search down when a familiar face caught her eye—John Kyle, cheek to cheek with Lisa.

  Ginny enlarged that image and took a good look at it. Lisa’s image manipulation skills must have improved over the years. This one, stamped as Christmas six years ago, was rougher, with discrepancies in the resolution and background, as well as an image fragment she seemed to have been unable to erase completely, a woman’s hand, wearing a ring Ginny recognized as Phyllis’ engagement ring.

  Ginny sat back and thought for a moment. Lisa was a man trap, but not a very good one. On one level, it was a sad tale of loneliness and desperation. On another, it was disturbing. If Lisa knew she was making up these relationships, then she was merely pathetic. But if she had crossed the line into delusional thinking, then she was dangerous. Dangerous enough to—?

  Ginny caught her breath. No. This was a functioning ICU nurse. If she was mentally deranged, someone would have spotted something. But jealousy was a motive for murder. Had been since the dawn of time, and John Kyle had married Phyllis, not Lisa.

  Ginny’s mind was suddenly filled with famous quotes. “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” “Speak of one that loved not wisely but too well.” “Rev
enge is a dish best served cold.”

  But—and this was a big but—did Lisa have the wherewithal to wrap a ligature around Phyllis’ neck and pull it tight? Phyllis was six inches taller than Lisa and in good physical condition, whereas Lisa had been heard to brag she had never crossed the threshold of any gym of any sort. Even using leverage, would Lisa have had the strength needed? That sounded like a question for the forensics specialists.

  Lisa had been in the ICU that night. Ginny’d seen her, so the next step was to find out if Lisa had been in the ICU at the time of the murder. She also wanted to explore a bit of anecdotal evidence on the subject of jealousy.

  Ginny frowned at her computer. All she’d meant to do was let Lisa know her attentions to Jim were unwanted and she might find the consequences of pursuing him uncomfortable. Now Ginny had to do a lot more research before she could sit down with Lisa and have that heart-to-heart chat.

  She glanced at the clock. Would it do any good to go talk to John Kyle? What could he tell her that might either rule Lisa in or out? It would probably upset him, and Ginny didn’t want to do that. Tran first, she decided. If Lisa wasn’t on the suspects list, then she didn’t have to go farther.

  DeSoto hadn’t seemed concerned about Ginny’s phone being hacked, but she was taking no chances. She picked up her purse, told her mother where she would be, got into her car, and drove to the hospital.

  There were small conference rooms on each floor, equipped with hard-wired telephone lines. She settled down in one and reached for the phone. Detective Tran answered almost immediately.

  “Miss Forbes. I did not recognize this number.”

  “I’m avoiding using my home or cell numbers.”

  “A good thought. What can I do for you?”

  Ginny explained her question about Lisa.

  “One moment.” Ginny heard the sound of a drawer, then Detective Tran’s voice.

  “Yes. She was on Code Team One that night and in the Medical ICU at the time of the death.”

  Ginny swallowed. “Thank you.”

  “Miss Forbes, I have been in contact with Agent DeSoto. He told me about your adventures in Austin. I would like to remind you that you are not required to put yourself in danger for this investigation. It might be prudent to withdraw.”

  Ginny took a long breath. “Detective Tran,” she said, “I have no intention of risking my life, but I would rather not withdraw until after I’ve talked to Lisa about leaving Jim alone.”

  Ginny could hear the smile on the other end of the line. “I will be interested to hear how that goes. Please let me know if you find out anything relevant to the death of Mrs. Kyle.”

  “I will.”

  Ginny hung up and headed back to her car. Lisa had been there, in the Unit at the time of the murder. Which meant Ginny needed to go have a wee chat with John Kyle after all.

  * * *

  Chapter 27

  Day 11 – Monday afternoon

  Kyle residence

  On arrival, Ginny found John Kyle at home, Phyllis’ sister, Rachel, visiting her brother-in-law, and both of Phyllis’ sons playing in the backyard.

  “I’m so sorry to trouble you again, but a question has come up. It’s about a woman. Do you know Lisa Braden?”

  John made a face. “I do. We were dating when I met Phyllis. She did not want to go quietly.”

  “Did she make threats toward you or Phyllis?”

  “Not threats, really. Just said some childish things like, ‘you’ll be sorry,’ that sort of stuff.”

  “There was no restraining order or anything like that?”

  John snorted. “No need. Phyllis was really good at being nice to people. Eventually Lisa got tired of getting no reaction from her—or me—and stopped showing up.”

  “You knew she worked with Phyllis, right?”

  He nodded. “But Phyllis never said anything to give me any concern.” He frowned. “Was she hiding something from me?”

  “I don’t think so. I worked with both of them and never saw a thing.”

  Rachel’s face had changed as John spoke. Ginny asked John a few more questions, but he didn’t seem to have anything to add to the investigation. She took her leave.

  Rachel volunteered to see her to her car. When they were out of ear shot, Ginny turned to face the other woman. “What is it you didn’t want to say in front of John?”

  “He doesn’t know, but Lisa made threats, in writing, some of them very specific. Phyllis showed me the letters, but made me promise not to tell. She didn’t want to upset him. She also didn’t report them to the police, or even to Hillcrest. I told her she should, that a woman who could suggest such things didn’t need to be taking care of patients, but she said I was overreacting.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Six years ago, when they got engaged, then for a while after the wedding, then nothing until last year.”

  “What happened last year?”

  Rachel’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know.” She turned to face Ginny. “Phyllis came to me last summer, asking if I’d take the boys for a while so she could spend some time with John. They were gone for ten days.”

  “Why did that worry you?”

  “Because Phyllis wouldn’t give me a reason for it. I tried pumping John, but he didn’t seem to have any idea what was behind it. He was just thrilled they got a vacation, just the two of them.”

  “Had they been having difficulties in the marriage?”

  Rachel shook her head. “Not unless you consider having two small boys a difficulty.”

  “Phyllis loved those boys. She talked about them at work. Doted on them.”

  Rachel smiled briefly. “Yes, well, I took them places—the park, the zoo, you know.”

  Ginny nodded.

  “And Lisa was there, watching us. Stalking, actually. It gave me the creeps. I took pictures of her, and reported her to the cops, and she disappeared. I asked Phyllis about it when she got back. She laughed it off, but she looked worried all the same. I think Lisa was threatening her, threatening her family.”

  “Did she tell John?”

  Rachel lifted an eyebrow. “I think she mentioned it, but you know what she was like. She could pull the fangs on a rattlesnake and make the serpent like it.” Rachel blinked suddenly. “John was a happy man; happy in his marriage, happy in his wife, happy in his sons.” She looked at Ginny. “Can you help us?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to try.” The two women exchanged hugs, then Ginny got in her car and headed back to Loch Lonach, trying to make sense of what she’d heard.

  What did Lisa hope to gain by threatening Phyllis’ boys? A mother would do almost anything to protect her children, but that wouldn’t include divorcing a perfectly good husband. If Lisa’s goal was to get John Kyle, she wasn’t thinking clearly. Because killing Phyllis didn’t mean John Kyle would marry Lisa. At least, no sane person would believe that.

  Ginny swallowed hard, realizing she no longer wanted to confront Lisa. Instead, she was beginning to be afraid of her.

  * * *

  Monday afternoon

  Forbes residence

  Ginny put the drink down next to Jim’s elbow, then pulled up a chair. He was seated at her computer, looking over the images of Lisa.

  “She was threatening Phyllis?”

  Ginny nodded. “Sounds like it.”

  Jim zoomed in on the image Lisa had posted of him smiling at her. “I can see where she cropped this one.” He pointed at the change in pixel density. “But I have to admit, she’s good. If she goes to prison, maybe she can start a business from inside.”

  “Bite your tongue! Can you imagine the publicity?”

  His smile faded. “You’re right. It wouldn’t do the hospital any good.”

  “Is it possible? Could she have murdered Phyllis?”

  Jim shrugged. “Anything is possible.” He turned to face her. “What about Devlin Jones? Do you really think he could have strangled Phyllis?”


  “According to Corey, he was spitting mad.”

  Jim’s face reflected his doubt. “He’s an ER physician. He knows about drug users and he’d understand if Phyllis was trying to help.”

  Ginny met Jim’s eye. “Do you know the man, personally?”

  Jim frowned. “No, I’m just pointing out he had other things he could try before resorting to murder.”

  “It’s his only son at stake, and he’s been hiding him, protecting him, paying for his drug habit. He wouldn’t be happy if Phyllis made that job harder.”

  Jim nodded, looking unconvinced. “It’s also possible someone from the drug community wanted Phyllis dead so she couldn’t rat them out.”

  Ginny frowned. “I refuse to believe Phyllis was running with a bad crowd, but I can see her telling the authorities what she knew. Maybe Detective Tran can find out if Phyllis was talking to the local drug squad.”

  Jim nodded. “Good idea. So, that’s how many possible murderers?” He picked up a yellow pad and started a list.

  Ginny held up a finger. “One, Phyllis killed by person or persons unknown because she was mistaken for Clara Carpenter. Clara doesn’t want it to be that, and I don’t blame her. Two, Phyllis killed by jealous ex-lover of her husband. Except Lisa waited six years to take her revenge. Not exactly a crime of passion.”

  “She may not have been mentally unstable until now.”

  “Scary, but true. Three, Phyllis killed by her uncle for exposing his darling son to both the authorities and the drug dealers.”

  Jim’s brow furrowed. “If this was fury, why not just shoot her on the ranch and bury her in the woods?”

  “That would make more sense, wouldn’t it?” Ginny added a finger. “Four, Phyllis executed by drug dealer (or agent of same), to keep her from telling the authorities whatever it was she knew about the local drug scene or—possibly—as a lesson to other illicit drug buyers not to stiff the dealer. Five, Phyllis killed by hired hit man because she was speaking out against the Mexican Nurse Pipeline.”

  Jim looked up. “If that’s what happened, we’re going to have trouble proving it.” He added another number. “Six, John Kyle, for reasons as yet unknown.”