Read Online Cadbury Creme Murder by Susan Gillard - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Gillard
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didn’t want
anyone knowing the subject matter of their argument? That they were arguing
about a patient?
Heather
sat straight up as the tumblers began to fall into place. Verna and Banner had
been arguing (of which she was now certain) about a patient who had died. Was
it possible that Verna believed Banner had somehow committed medical malpractice
in failing to properly treat his patient, thus hastening or failing to prevent
the patient’s death?
That
would explain why Verna had needed some time off. She was used to patients
dying; she worked in ICU and in hospice care, after all. Yet she had been
particularly upset about this death, which would make perfect sense if she felt
that Banner was in some way to blame.
Another
tumbler clicked into place. Eva had said Verna was worried about something,
worried enough that she had a hard time sleeping, and that she’d said she had a
decision to make. What if she were considering reporting Banner for
malpractice?
You’re
adding two and two and getting five ,
she told herself. But it was possible that she was right, wasn’t it?
Shouldn’t she at least check out that hypothesis?
Maybe
so. But how would she do that? She couldn’t ask Verna what she’d been worried
about, and she couldn’t very well march up to Banner and ask him if Verna had
told him she thought he was guilty of malpractice.
She
stood up, dusted off the seat of her jeans, and headed inside. Her cell phone
lay on the kitchen counter, and she punched in William Dixon’s number, thankful
he’d given it to her the other day when she and Eva had been out at Verna’s
house. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
“William?
This is Heather Janke. I’m the friend who came out to your mother’s home with
Eva Schneider the other day.”
“Yes,
Heather. I remember you.”
“I’m
so sorry to disturb you. But I was wondering if there was any way I could look
through your mother’s things like her computer, her desk, stuff like that.”
“What
would you be looking for?”
“For
any indication she was aware of a malpractice case at the hospital or intended
to take action about reporting it.”
William’s
voice lost some of its weariness. “Do you think this has to do with her
murder?”
“If
I find anything along those lines, I guarantee you it has something to do with
her murder,” Heather said.
“Then
please, look at anything you want. I’ll meet you out there. I’ll be in my
wife’s car. She’s here in town with me now. Twenty minutes?”
“I
really appreciate this.”
“I’ll
see you then.”
She
grabbed her purse, dropped her phone into it, and headed for the car. Fifteen
minutes later, she pulled into Verna’s driveway behind a gold Lexus. She got
out, walked up the porch steps to the back door, and knocked. There was no
answer. Maybe William was in a part of the house where he couldn’t hear her.
Heather
turned the knob, and the door opened. She stepped inside, calling, “William!
It’s Heather!”
She
shut the door behind her and set her purse down on the counter. Grabbing her
cell phone, she slid it into a rear pocket of her jeans. As footsteps
approached from the direction of the living room, she decided to wait next to
the kitchen table.
“Hello,
Heather,” a voice said calmly as a figure stepped around the corner.
But
the person who stood facing her was not William.
And
he was holding a gun pointed straight at her chest.
***
“Dr.
Banner?” she gasped through lips that had gone dry.
“You
have bad timing,” he said. “Another five minutes, and I would have been gone.”
“Look,
I don’t know what’s going on here—”
“I
think you do. I think we’re both here looking for the same thing.”
“You
killed Verna,” she said.
“I
eliminated a
anyone knowing the subject matter of their argument? That they were arguing
about a patient?
Heather
sat straight up as the tumblers began to fall into place. Verna and Banner had
been arguing (of which she was now certain) about a patient who had died. Was
it possible that Verna believed Banner had somehow committed medical malpractice
in failing to properly treat his patient, thus hastening or failing to prevent
the patient’s death?
That
would explain why Verna had needed some time off. She was used to patients
dying; she worked in ICU and in hospice care, after all. Yet she had been
particularly upset about this death, which would make perfect sense if she felt
that Banner was in some way to blame.
Another
tumbler clicked into place. Eva had said Verna was worried about something,
worried enough that she had a hard time sleeping, and that she’d said she had a
decision to make. What if she were considering reporting Banner for
malpractice?
You’re
adding two and two and getting five ,
she told herself. But it was possible that she was right, wasn’t it?
Shouldn’t she at least check out that hypothesis?
Maybe
so. But how would she do that? She couldn’t ask Verna what she’d been worried
about, and she couldn’t very well march up to Banner and ask him if Verna had
told him she thought he was guilty of malpractice.
She
stood up, dusted off the seat of her jeans, and headed inside. Her cell phone
lay on the kitchen counter, and she punched in William Dixon’s number, thankful
he’d given it to her the other day when she and Eva had been out at Verna’s
house. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
“William?
This is Heather Janke. I’m the friend who came out to your mother’s home with
Eva Schneider the other day.”
“Yes,
Heather. I remember you.”
“I’m
so sorry to disturb you. But I was wondering if there was any way I could look
through your mother’s things like her computer, her desk, stuff like that.”
“What
would you be looking for?”
“For
any indication she was aware of a malpractice case at the hospital or intended
to take action about reporting it.”
William’s
voice lost some of its weariness. “Do you think this has to do with her
murder?”
“If
I find anything along those lines, I guarantee you it has something to do with
her murder,” Heather said.
“Then
please, look at anything you want. I’ll meet you out there. I’ll be in my
wife’s car. She’s here in town with me now. Twenty minutes?”
“I
really appreciate this.”
“I’ll
see you then.”
She
grabbed her purse, dropped her phone into it, and headed for the car. Fifteen
minutes later, she pulled into Verna’s driveway behind a gold Lexus. She got
out, walked up the porch steps to the back door, and knocked. There was no
answer. Maybe William was in a part of the house where he couldn’t hear her.
Heather
turned the knob, and the door opened. She stepped inside, calling, “William!
It’s Heather!”
She
shut the door behind her and set her purse down on the counter. Grabbing her
cell phone, she slid it into a rear pocket of her jeans. As footsteps
approached from the direction of the living room, she decided to wait next to
the kitchen table.
“Hello,
Heather,” a voice said calmly as a figure stepped around the corner.
But
the person who stood facing her was not William.
And
he was holding a gun pointed straight at her chest.
***
“Dr.
Banner?” she gasped through lips that had gone dry.
“You
have bad timing,” he said. “Another five minutes, and I would have been gone.”
“Look,
I don’t know what’s going on here—”
“I
think you do. I think we’re both here looking for the same thing.”
“You
killed Verna,” she said.
“I
eliminated a
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