Read Online Family Practice by Charlene Weir - Free Book Online

I—” He shook his head. “From the time we were children. Always the two of us.” He seemed to be talking to the mantel clock. “I feel like half of me is missing. She was always so strong, so determined. Nothing could stop her. I can’t believe it.” He reached out blindly and grasped one of Vicky’s hands.
    She didn’t move except to raise her eyes and look at Susan, then quickly away.
    â€œI understand that Dorothy was almost a parent to the rest of you.” Susan included Vicky in the comment.
    â€œThat’s exactly what she was,” Vicky said. “She was in charge. Always—” Vicky glanced uneasily at her husband.
    â€œDid that cause you to feel resentment?”
    â€œWhy would I feel resentment?” Willis said.
    â€œIn your medical practice?”
    â€œOf course not.”
    Vicky didn’t seem to agree altogether, but all she did was take in a breath like a sigh.
    Susan nodded as though she accepted his statement. “You were asked to check the supply of drugs and medications at the medical office a while earlier. Could you tell if anything was missing?”
    â€œNothing. As I told Osey. I can even say nothing looked disturbed. I can only conclude that whoever it was didn’t have the opportunity to get that far.”
    Or Dorothy’s death had nothing to do with the theft of drugs. It would be a pretty stupid druggie who tried to steal from an office where people were present. Stupid was possible—druggies often were—but she didn’t think that’s what had gone down here. Doctor’s offices in general didn’t have all that many drugs on the premises. Here again, a stupid thief might not have known.
    â€œHave you had trouble with a patient? Someone who was upset about a treatment, perhaps, or felt it was incorrect or unnecessary? Dissatisfied with the results?” Patients had been known to hold a physician responsible for the death of a loved one.
    â€œThat is something I cannot discuss.”
    Vicky flicked her eyes at him. He didn’t notice, but Susan did.
    â€œWe’ll need to look at patient records. Especially those with appointments today.”
    â€œNot without a subpoena,” he said firmly.
    She had expected as much, and let it go. So far, they had no evidence needed to obtain court permission to peruse confidential files. She directed a question at Vicky. “Where were you between twelve and two this afternoon?”
    â€œShopping,” Vicky blurted, a frightened look on her face.
    What’s this? Till now she’d been nearly impassive.
    â€œDr. Barrington?”
    He puffed up like a snake. His face sharpened from sorrow to disbelief, and then anger, so quickly Susan wondered if the grief had been a convincing performance.
    â€œWhat are you suggesting? You have the bald insensitivity to come in here and accuse—”
    â€œI’m sorry, Dr. Barrington. I understand this is a difficult time. My job is to find out what happened. To do that, I need to ask questions. Some of which you’d rather not hear.”
    He stared at her a long moment, then slowly deflated. “Yes, of course. I apologize. This has been a dreadful shock. I’m having trouble accepting it. There are stages one goes through. Disbelief. Denial.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers up and down his forehead. “I was here.”
    He was by himself, had made or received no phone calls beyond the one call from Dorothy. He had no idea why she had asked him over this evening and wouldn’t speculate. She frequently called. The family frequently got together.
    Throughout his discourse Vicky maintained a watchful quiet. Susan wished she knew what thoughts were going on behind the pretty, painted face. “Did Dorothy have any enemies?”
    â€œOf course not. The very idea is absurd.”
    â€œThere was the shelter,” Vicky said.
    â€œShelter?”
    â€œFor battered