Suspicious Circumstances

by Rita Herron

  He stood and extended his hand, then gestured for Liam to sit. “You look familiar, Special Agent Maverick. And I recognize your last name. Have we met before?”

  “Actually, you met my father during the investigation into the death of Gloria Inman. And my brother Jacob after the hospital fire.” Liam had been working another case and had requested to come back to help with the fire investigation, but his boss had refused. He’d said Liam was too damn close to it. Liam had argued that was the reason he should work it.

  But his boss hadn’t budged.

  “That’s right. Those were both rough times.”

  “They were,” Liam agreed. “I was surprised you returned to the hospital. So many people relocated and transferred.”

  Dr. Butler leaned back in his desk chair. “That’s true. But I have roots in town, and after the devastation of the fire, I wanted to help rebuild the hospital. It felt like a betrayal to abandon a sinking ship.”

  Admirable, if that was true. A downside to being an agent meant Liam didn’t quite trust anyone or accept their words at face value.

  “Now, what brought you here today?” Dr. Butler asked. “Do you have a new lead on who set that fire?”

  Liam adopted his poker face. “Barry Inman is in custody.”

  A slight flicker of the doctor’s eyes indicated his surprise. “I realized the police suspected he set the fire to get revenge against the hospital. Did he finally confess?”

  “As a matter of fact, he did not,” Liam said. “He insists he’s innocent. Which brings us back to the question, if anyone else had motive. Or if his story about Nurse Weiss held merit.”

  Dr. Butler shifted, his gaze dropping to his hands. When he looked up, his expression was flat. “As I told the sheriff, the hospital made no mistake that day. Mr. Inman must have misunderstood what he heard because he was looking for someone to blame.”

  Liam studied him. “I reviewed the files on Mr. Inman’s case and know the charges were dropped. But there’s no explanation. When the attorney for the hospital investigated Mr. Inman, which I assumed he did to prepare a defense, did he learn anything?”

  Dr. Butler removed his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face. “He found nothing to incriminate one of the staff members.”

  It was the same story Dr. Butler had told five years ago.

  “On the night of the fire, did you see anyone acting suspiciously in the hospital?” Liam asked.

  Dr. Butler shook his head. “No. All I recall was that I was busy with a possible stroke patient, then the alarm sounded, and we had to move people outside.”

  “Nurse Weiss mentioned a homeless man who wandered into the ER seeking drugs. Do you remember seeing him?”

  The doctor tilted his head to the side in thought. “Not specifically, but it’s a common occurrence.”

  “She said security escorted him outside.”

  “That’s not uncommon either. Occasionally one gets belligerent and we’ve had to call security.”

  Liam needed to look back at the security footage that had been salvaged. Maybe the man was on camera. If he identified him, they’d have a chat. He also wanted to talk to the head of security. Jacob had questioned him already, but after five years, maybe he remembered something that hadn’t stuck out at first.

  “What about Nurse Weiss?” Liam asked. “What is your opinion of her?”

  The man hesitated. “Peyton is a dedicated nurse. She’s detail oriented, kind, compassionate and typically a good bridge between patients and families.”

  “Did she administer any drugs to Mrs. Inman?”

  “Yes, of course. That was her job. I ordered epinephrine, which is Adrenalin, to jump-start the heart.”

  “Was it possible she gave the woman the wrong medication?”

  A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the doctor’s face. “I guess anything is possible, but Peyton is meticulous and checks the labels and the chart for allergies or other medications the patient is taking before she administers anything.”

  “But it was chaotic in the ER that night?”

  “Yes, it was an unusually busy evening, and Mr. Inman was yelling at everyone. Security had to pull him from the room.”

  “He was afraid for his wife’s life,” Liam said.

  Butler shifted again, obviously uncomfortable with the question.

  “He was. I assured him we’d do everything we could, but I had to work on his wife and didn’t have time to coddle him.” He steepled his hands together. “But even on a chaotic night, safety protocol is followed to prevent mistakes. The staff logs every detail of the patient’s treatment, including vitals and medications, as well as the amount and time administered.”

  “Did Nurse Weiss have a conversation with Mr. Inman?”

  Butler scratched his head. “No, one of the other nurses did. Peyton was too busy.”

  So that eliminated the possibility that Inman had named her out of anger.

  “How about the night of the fire? Did she act any differently that evening?”

  Butler’s brows pinched together. “Not that I recall. She helped evacuate patients, then was frantic to find her mother. Mrs. Weiss had gone into cardiac arrest, but I performed CPR and she survived.”

  Did Peyton feel indebted enough to him to lie or cover for him if he’d made the mistake in the ER with Gloria Inman?

  * * *

  WHILE HER MOTHER watched her favorite game show on TV, Peyton gathered her laundry. In the bedroom on the small corner desk though, she found an open photo album.

  Photos of her and Valerie filled the pages. Memories washed over Peyton and made her chest clench. When they were little girls, they used to be so close. They’d played dolls together, braided each other’s hair and snuggled together at night when Val got afraid of the dark.

  But with age, they became more and more different. Val had jet-black hair, a model figure and looked exotic while Peyton felt like a plain Jane. But no matter how many compliments Val received or offers for dates, nothing seemed to make her happy. She became withdrawn and depressed. By fourteen, she was sneaking alcohol and drugs.

  Their mother had forced her into rehab. For a while, her sister seemed to want to come clean. But six months later, she’d fallen off the wagon hard.

  At eighteen, she’d run away. Peyton felt responsible. Val was her baby sister. She was supposed to take care of her. Save her.

  But she’d failed.

  She traced her finger over Val’s face in the last Christmas photo they’d taken before Val ran away. Over the past ten years, she’d seen her sister three times. Each time, Val had returned, begging for money to get clean. Although each time, she’d accepted that money, used it for another fix, then disappeared.

  Last year, she’d tried again, but Peyton had refused to give her money and offered to drive her to rehab instead. Val had become irate and belligerent and attacked her. Then she’d stolen Peyton’s credit card and run.

  Had she been in her mother’s room the day before? Or in the gardens last night?

  They didn’t keep drugs in the patients’ rooms but used a dispensary to ensure the medications were monitored. She tossed her mother’s laundry into the washing machine, added soap and started it, then went to the living room.

  “Mom, I have to go back to work. I’ll see you this evening.”

  Her mother barely looked up from her game show but smiled when Peyton dropped a kiss on her cheek. A bad premonition enveloped her as she left, and she hurried outside to go to the pharmacy.

  If her sister had shown up here, it couldn’t be good.

  * * *

  AFTER LEAVING THE HOSPITAL, Liam stopped by Jacob’s office. Together they reviewed security footage from the hospital the night of the fire. They had both studied it numerous times, but today he was looking for the drug seeker. A few minutes into the footage, he
found it.

  “What makes you suspicious of this guy?” Jacob asked.

  Liam shrugged. “Peyton mentioned him, said security escorted him out. What if he was in a bad place, wanted drugs and set the fire so he could steal some from the pharmacy?”

  Jacob hissed. “We were so preoccupied with the theory that the person who kidnapped Cora’s baby started the fire, that we didn’t pursue other leads.”

  “It may not be related but I’m going to follow through,” Liam said. “I’ll show the footage to Peyton and see if she recognizes the man. And I’ll have the analyst at the Bureau run the man’s face through facial rec and look for a name.” Could the answer be as simple as a junkie trying to steal drugs?

  Jacob nodded. “I’ll see if I can locate the pharmacist on duty that night. He might know if any drugs went missing or if someone tried to break into the room where they store the medications.”

  Liam headed out to his vehicle with the footage. Peyton claimed to have told him everything she knew the day before, but his gut instincts warned him she was holding back, that she might be the key to unraveling the mystery.

  His phone buzzed as he climbed in his car. An unknown number appeared on his screen. He answered, “Special Agent Maverick.”

  A woman’s voice, a low, strained whisper. “You were at the hospital asking about Barry Inman today.”

  Liam tensed. “I was. Do you have information about him?”

  “Barry Inman cheated on his wife.”

  “Who is this?” Liam asked.

  But the line went dead in his hands.

  Anger railed inside Liam as the implications set in. The police should have known about the affair. If Inman had reason to kill his wife, it gave him motive for murder.

  Had Inman killed his wife so he could move on with his lover? If so, why file a lawsuit against the hospital? It didn’t make sense.

  He started the engine and peeled from the parking lot. He’d sensed Peyton had been hiding something. He was going to find out what the hell it was.

  Chapter Seven

  Using his hands-free device, Liam phoned Jacob and described his interaction with Dr. Butler as he drove toward Golden Gardens. “I just received an anonymous call from a woman who claims Barry Inman was having an affair.”

  “Really?” Jacob muttered a curse. “That’s interesting. And could provide Inman’s motive for killing his wife.”

  “Exactly,” Liam agreed. “If Inman wanted to get rid of his wife, he could have done something to have caused her heart attack. Or if he tried to end the affair and his mistress was unhappy about his decision, she would have had motive for murder.”

  “You may be onto something,” Jacob said.

  “What did the autopsy say was Mrs. Inman’s cause of death?” Liam asked.

  “Cardiac arrest,” Jacob replied.

  “Do you have the toxicology report?”

  “Hang on. Let me look in the file.” Liam veered onto the highway leading to River’s Edge. Late-afternoon shadows flickered across the road, tree branches bobbing in the wind as he passed farmland and houses scattered here and there.

  Jacob grunted. “You won’t believe this, Liam, but I can’t find a toxicology report.”

  “That can’t be right,” Liam said. “The attorneys would have needed that information.” If he couldn’t get hold of it, he might request an exhumation of Mrs. Inman’s body and another autopsy performed. “Who was the ME?”

  “Dr. Hammerhead.”

  “I’ll give him a call. He should have kept a copy.”

  Jacob grunted. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll question Inman about the affair and find out the woman’s name. This could change everything.”

  Theories rattled around in Liam’s head. If negligence was involved in Mrs. Inman’s death, and someone wanted to cover it up, a fire would have achieved that purpose. A jilted lover or a husband wanting out of his marriage was also another viable theory.

  “Did you question Inman’s family and neighbors about the couple’s marriage?”

  The sound of Jacob turning pages echoed over the line. “Dad did. According to his notes, the woman who lived across the street claimed the couple argued sometimes, and Inman was gone a lot, but there were never any domestic disputes. Lady who lived next door said Mrs. Inman shopped all the time, and the couple fought about money. But she never saw anything to make her believe Inman would hurt his wife.” Jacob paused. “Inman’s own mother, Gwen, insisted her son loved his wife and was distraught over her death to the point that she feared he might be suicidal.”

  “Follow up with all of them and see if they were aware of this alleged affair.”

  “On it. Will keep you posted.”

  “Same here.” Liam ended the call, then phoned the ME’s office and asked to speak to Dr. Hammerhead. His receptionist said he was in a meeting and agreed to have him call Liam ASAP.

  Liam hung up, then maneuvered the switchbacks on the mountain road until he reached Golden Gardens. He stopped at the security gate and identified himself, then pulled through the open gate and drove toward Peyton’s place.

  When he arrived, her car was parked in front of her apartment. He veered into an empty spot, climbed out, walked up the sidewalk to her door, rang the doorbell and waited, but no one answered. Inside, the lights were off.

  He returned to his vehicle, then punched her number. She didn’t answer her phone either, so he left a message that he was waiting at her place and they needed to talk.

  * * *

  “HAVE YOU SEEN any strangers in here at the pharmacy?” Peyton asked Owen, the resident pharmacist who manned the drug dispensary.

  Owen narrowed his eyes. “No.”

  “And no drugs have gone missing?”

  He shook his head. “What’s going on? Why are you asking about missing drugs?”

  “I was just checking. I think someone may have been inside my apartment yesterday and thought maybe you’d seen someone lurking around here.”

  “Did you report this to the director?”

  “I did, and I had my locks changed.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out, Peyton. Thanks for the heads-up.” He stepped from the room, locked the door, then set the code. Each of the nurses and the staff doctor, who made weekly rounds and was on call, had the code and could check out medications when needed.

  They walked down the hallway together, and Owen exited the building. Peyton scanned the corridors, but she had the odd sense that someone was watching her as she hurried outside. Needing the exercise and fresh air to help alleviate her anxiety, she’d walked to the cottages this morning. But with night shadows already falling and dark storm clouds rolling in, the mountains looked ominous and eerie.

  She walked past the gardens to cut across the property to her apartment. The trees shivered in the wind, leaves raining down. Her shoes crunched dead leaves and brush as she scanned the gardens in case Leon, or the mysterious alleged girl, maybe Val, was visiting again.

  The resident cat who liked to roam the property appeared, his black coat hardly visible in the shadows, although his bright green eyes glowed as he paused to stare up at her. “Hey, Kitty,” she murmured as she approached the furball.

  He appeared to be limping, so she crept closer. A second later, he scrambled away and disappeared into the edge of the woods with a screech. Worried he was injured, she inched toward the thicket of trees, and saw him racing up a tree. He couldn’t be injured badly to climb.

  She turned to head back to her place, but suddenly two hands grabbed her and pushed her against a tree. She tried to scream, but a hand clamped down over her mouth, then she looked into the crazed eyes of her sister.

  Her eyes were dazed, wild looking, and her hands held Peyton firmly.

  “You have to help me, sis.”

  Peyton’s heart raced, but she gave a little
nod so Val would release her. As soon as she did, she stepped away from her and threw up a warning hand.

  “Mom said she saw you,” Peyton said. “Why are you here, Val? You want money or drugs?”

  Val’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m in trouble. Someone’s after me, Peyton.”

  Peyton’s heart stuttered with fear. Although reality crashed back. Her sister had lied to her so many times. “Your drug dealer. How much do you owe him?”

  “It’s not him,” Val said in a choked whisper.

  Peyton gritted her teeth. She’d been down this road so many times. “I can’t help you, Val.” She turned to walk away. “And stay away from Mama. She doesn’t need your crap.”

  She had taken two steps when her sister jumped her from behind and shoved her to the ground. Peyton’s face hit the leaves and she tasted dirt and blood as she bit her tongue.

  “I’m your sister—you can’t desert me,” Val cried as she shook her. “Stop running and listen to me.”

  “Why? So, you can give me the same old excuses.”

  Peyton rolled sideways in an attempt to flip her sister to her back but failed.

  Suddenly a light flickered across the yard, and a voice called out, asking who was there.

  Val jumped up and ran into the woods, leaving Peyton disoriented and bleeding on the ground.

  * * *

  LIAM WAS JUST about to call Peyton again when she stumbled around the side of the building to the front door.

  The wind whipped her hair around her face, and she was holding her hand over one cheek. She wavered as she walked.

  His instincts jumped to full alert. Something was wrong. She was hurt.

  She swayed again, then made it to the front door and fumbled with her key.

  He slid from his car, closed the door and walked up the path to her apartment. By the time he reached her, she’d stooped down and was searching for her keys in the grass.