Better Off Thread, page 16
“I have to wonder if that responsibility would be left up to the hospital administrator alone. I’d imagine the patients’ doctors would be in the best position to determine what patients were in the greatest need,” he said. “I’d think it would be a group decision.”
“I agree. I think they’re simply looking for a scapegoat.” I took a bite of my ice cream. “But, for some reason, they think Carrie Monahan would do a much better job.”
* * *
On Tuesday, I was helping a woman find a beginner’s ribbon-embroidery kit for her daughter when Melanie Carstairs came in. I excused myself and allowed the woman to browse on her own while I attended to Melanie.
“Hi, Melanie. How’s everything going?”
“Good. I’m really enjoying making those Christmas ornaments. And I think I’m getting better at it.”
“That’s great.”
“In fact, I’m here for more embroidery floss,” she said.
“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything.”
The other customer chose her ribbon-embroidery kit and brought it to the counter. I rang up her purchase and put it and a flyer about upcoming classes and events in a periwinkle Seven-Year Stitch bag. When she left, I noticed Melanie was accumulating quite a handful of flosses, so I took her the basket I used to transport items from the storeroom to the floor.
“I thought you might need this.”
She took the basket. “Thanks. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Oh no. Not again.
“Could you please stop by after work to see Brendan for a few minutes?” she continued. “I know things ended awkwardly last time with Bellamy trying to buy your dog and everything, but he won’t be home until late.”
Still, I hesitated. It wasn’t Melanie or Brendan that was the problem; it was the entire situation. And I’d promised myself after Sunday that I wouldn’t go back.
“And you don’t have to wear that silly costume,” Melanie continued. “We’ll tell Brendan that it’s your day off from the North Pole. He just enjoys you and . . . and Angus so much. And I can show you the ornaments I’ve made.”
I got the feeling this visit was as much about Melanie needing a friend as Brendan needing a visit from an elf. “All right. I can’t stay long, but I’ll drop by.”
“Thank you.” She beamed. “Thank you so much.”
* * *
At lunch, I told Ted about Melanie’s visit and that I was planning to stop by there for a few minutes after work.
“Well, good luck,” he said.
“She promised me that Dr. Carstairs wouldn’t be there—and that I wouldn’t have to wear the stupid costume. I really got the feeling that she needs a friend.”
“I’ll trust your judgment.”
“You don’t think I should go, do you?” I asked.
“I think you should do whatever you feel like doing.”
“Brendan is a good kid. He can’t help that his dad is an obnoxious jerk.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself that you’re doing the right thing by going this afternoon?”
“Both, I guess.” I shook my head. “You know good and well that I’d vowed to never go back after Sunday.”
“Yes, I seem to recall having heard that over and over and over and over on the drive home.”
I laughed a bit self-consciously. “I was firm in my resolve until Melanie Carstairs stopped in and implored me to visit. And then I caved. Are there any new leads on who vandalized her car, by the way?”
“No. I had a slow morning, though, and I ran John Martin’s name through the computer. He has a history of assault. I still have patrolmen driving by here regularly—”
“I noticed. Thank you.”
“—but be especially vigilant when you’re walking to and from your car. And make sure you aren’t being followed when you’re driving.”
“Got it.”
He checked his watch. “I need to get back, but I’ll walk Angus before I go.”
I had to admit, Ted’s protectiveness did have its advantages.
* * *
As I wound my Jeep around the curves leading up to the Carstairs’ home, I complained to Angus that I was probably losing my mind for agreeing to come back to this house.
“Or, at best, I’m losing my spine. I’ll probably turn into a puddle of goo right here behind the wheel. If I do, can you jump up here and pull us safely to the side of the road?”
He woofed.
“Or if you can’t, simply burrow down in the backseat and cover your head. Then call Ted to come and rescue you.”
Angus didn’t respond to that remark. He just cocked his head as if to say, Hello? No thumbs!
I caught a glimpse of something on a dirt path between two of the boxwoods lining the driveway. It was a vehicle. I slammed on the brakes, causing Angus to fall forward slightly.
“Sorry, sweetie.”
Again he merely looked at me, decidedly thinking that I really was losing my mind.
The vehicle was a pickup truck. It was pulled in so I couldn’t see the front, but the back license plate was caked with mud.
I took out my cell phone and called Ted.
“Marcy, are you all right?”
I smiled slightly. He’d obviously been concerned about my driving out to the remote Carstairs home alone.
“I’m fine, but I see something strange.” I told him about the pickup truck partially hidden on the Carstairs’ property. “There’s no one inside the truck. Do you think that whoever vandalized Melanie’s car is here? That they plan to hurt her? The guy on the surveillance tape was driving an old pickup that matched this description.”
“Where are you now?”
“Sitting in the driveway, looking at the truck.”
“Get out of there. I’ll get the closest possible units out there immediately, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I’m staying. I can’t just leave wondering if something has happened to Melanie or Brendan.”
“Marcy, please. We—the police and I—will handle this.”
“Fine. I’ll back out of the driveway and stay by the side of the road. If I see anyone leaving the property, I’ll lie down in the seat or something.”
“Marcy—”
“You’re wasting time.”
He gave a growl of frustration before telling me to be careful. Then he ended the call.
I did as I’d promised, although I realized that backing around those curves wasn’t going so well. I pulled into the dirt path where the truck was parked and turned around. Then I drove back out to the road, pulled over, and shut off the engine.
I called Melanie Carstairs.
“Hello, Marcy. Where are you?”
“I’m nearby.” I was trying to be cagey, in case Melanie’s would-be attacker was listening. “Is everything all right?”
“Um, yes. Everything is fine. Why?”
“Is there anyone there with you?”
“Brendan and Barbara are here. Marcy, is something wrong?”
“Can anyone hear what I’m saying to you right now?”
“No. Why? You’re scaring me.”
“I’ve called the police, and they’re on their way. I spotted a pickup truck half-hidden just off your driveway. It could be the same person who threw the brick through your windshield. If he’s there already, say something to let me know.”
“Oh, goodness. I wish you hadn’t called the police.”
“Are you being threatened?” I asked.
“No. That truck belongs to our gardener, Luis.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. The license plate was all muddy, and I was afraid it was the guy who’d vandalized your car. I’ll call Ted back and—“
Too late. I heard the sirens and then saw the patrol car speeding toward me.
“They’re here,” I said. “The police are here. I’ll follow them down. Ted’s gonna kill me.”
The squad car pulled into the driveway. I called Ted and explained.
“I’m almost there. I want to take a look at that truck and see if it’s the same one from the surveillance tape. Who’s to say Melanie Carstairs’s gardener doesn’t have a grudge against her?”
After speaking with Ted, I started the Jeep, did a U-turn, and once again headed down the Carstairs’ driveway. I pulled in, making sure I didn’t block the police cruiser, and got out of the Jeep. I snapped Angus’s leash onto his collar, and we walked to the door.
Barbara let us in, albeit grudgingly. She glared at me as if I had brought down some sort of plague upon the Carstairs family.
Melanie was in the living room with the two uniformed officers. They were two young men I’d never met. Melanie was in tears.
Ted arrived very shortly. “I’ve examined the truck parked on the dirt path between the two boxwoods, and it is indeed the truck I saw in the bank’s surveillance footage.”
Melanie gasped. “I don’t think so. That truck belongs to our gardener. The truck on the tape only looks like Luis’s truck.”
“That may be,” said Ted. “But I need your gardener’s full name and address. We need to pick him up and question him about vandalizing your car.”
“Please don’t!” She looked from Ted to me and then back to Ted before she burst into tears. “I did it! I paid Luis to wear the mask, come to the bank, and throw the brick through my windshield!”
My jaw dropped. “Why?”
Melanie’s head whipped around toward me. “So Bellamy would fight for me to get that job. He didn’t the last time I applied, but I wanted him to be my champion this time. The only way to do that was to make him think someone definitely didn’t want me to have it.”
“So you’re saying that you arranged to have your own car vandalized?” Ted confirmed.
“Yes. All right? I did. Luis is innocent, so leave him alone!”
“Did it work?” I asked. “Did Dr. Carstairs agree to try to influence the board on your behalf?”
“Yes. Although it doesn’t make any difference now, does it? I told Bell that when I got home from the bank, someone called our home phone and warned me not to apply for the job as hospital administrator.” She hung her head. “He said we’d see about that. I believe he was truly going to help me get that job.”
Ted shook his head and wrote Melanie a citation for filing a false police report, a Class A misdemeanor.
Chapter Twenty-two
Ted went back to the police station to do his paperwork, and I took Angus home. I fed him and let him go out into the backyard to play while I started dinner for Ted and me. I decided on spaghetti, meatballs, and breadsticks, because I had all the ingredients on hand.
By the time Ted got to my house, I was putting dinner on the table. He hung his suit jacket in the foyer and loosened his tie. I could see how tired he was.
“I wish I’d suggested meeting you at your place,” I said. “You’re exhausted.”
He shook his head. “It’s just been a frustrating day. I’m fine. Thank you for dinner. It looks wonderful.”
“How about I give you a back rub after we eat?”
“Now, that would be fantastic.” He smiled as he sat down at the table.
“And we’ll make cookies. And we’ll fling that tie across the room.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” he said. “This is one of my favorite ties, and anything flung around here winds up being shaken vigorously and chewed up by a certain woolly beast.”
“Okay. We’ll neatly fold the tie and put it someplace where Angus can’t get to it.”
“Thank you. The back rub and the cookies do sound great, though.”
“Then we’ll get on that right after dinner.” I kissed him and filled his wineglass.
He twirled spaghetti around his fork. “I can’t believe Melanie Carstairs’s gall. I thought she was the nice one. And yet she sent our police force on a wild-goose chase for something she orchestrated herself.”
“I know. I thought she was the nice one, too.” I still did, but, then, maybe she was simply the lesser of two evils. “I do think it’s a shame, though, that making it look as if she were being threatened was the only way she felt she could garner her husband’s support.”
“Yeah. That is sad. But that’s their problem and not the responsibility of the Tallulah Falls Police Department.”
I tore a breadstick in half. “About those cookies . . . What kind are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever you have the ingredients for.” He took a sip of his wine. “I’m sorry. I’ll let it go. I refuse to let the Carstairs ruin our evening.”
“Thank you.”
We wound up making peanut butter cookies shaped like teddy bears. I even took red icing and made bow ties for them. They were adorable and delicious—a combo that can’t be beat. In fact, the rest of the evening was unbeatable.
* * *
It was good that Ted and I ended up having such a wonderful night because I needed those warm fuzzies to carry me through the rough morning I had the next day.
I’d barely gotten my purse and tote bag stowed under the counter and my coat hung up when Bellamy Carstairs stormed through the front door.
“Ms. Singer, you’ve certainly got nerve!”
“Excuse me?”
At my side, Angus stiffened.
“How dare you come to my home and make trouble for my family?”
I blinked. Twice. I was trying to gather my composure before I spoke. “I was invited to your home by your wife, and I had no intention of causing trouble for anyone.”
“Your idea of not causing trouble was calling the police on my wife?” His face was red, and he reminded me of a squealing piglet, standing there in his brown tweed jacket, spouting accusations.
“I called the police because I saw a truck half-hidden on your property. It fit the description of the truck used by the vandal who threw a brick through Mrs. Carstairs’s windshield. I was afraid she and Brendan might be in danger.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Your opinion doesn’t concern me, Dr. Carstairs. I’d appreciate it if you left now.”
He took a step toward me, and Angus growled.
The bells over the shop door jingled, and Todd burst into the Stitch.
“Hey, there! Marcy, I was heading to MacKenzies’ Mochas and wanted to see if you need anything.” He put himself between Dr. Carstairs and me. “Hi, Angus. How’re you doing, buddy?”
The dog didn’t move. He continued to watch Dr. Carstairs.
“Dr. Carstairs was just leaving,” I said.
Dr. Carstairs jabbed a finger at me. “You stay away from my family.” He turned and left.
Todd put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m okay now. He’s gone.”
He led me over to the sofa. “I could tell things were tense in here. That’s why I came in. Want to tell me what was going on?”
I sat down, and he sat beside me. Angus came and leaned against my right leg. I patted him reassuringly as I explained to Todd what had happened yesterday.
“That’s messed up,” said Todd. “A wife has to make it look as if she’s being threatened in order to gain the support of her husband?”
“I agree. But there’s a reason Bellamy Carstairs doesn’t want his wife to have any insight into his life at the hospital. I’d love to know what that reason is.”
“I think it’s best that you just let it go. That man is obviously a bully, and one bully having you on his radar is plenty, don’t you think?”
“You’re talking about John Martin.”
“Yes, I am. Have you heard anything from him?”
“No. I think he believed me to be sufficiently scared away from whatever it was he was trying to hide.”
“That’s good.” Todd leaned his head back against the sofa. “Man, you get yourself into a lot of trouble.”
“I know. It’s a special skill.”
“Why not try oil painting or something less hazardous?”
“Oil painting can be dangerous, breathing all those fumes.”
“I was seriously on my way to MacKenzies’ Mochas,” he said. “Would you like something? On me?”
“No, thanks. I do appreciate your saving me from the evil Dr. Carstairs, though.”
“Anytime.”
I got my tote, moved to the sofa facing the window, and then worked on my Christmas ornaments.
Riley Kendall stopped by on her way back to the office from court. She was dressed in a red suit with taupe heels, and she looked impressive and lawyerly. I told her so.
“Gee, thanks . . . I think. I’m making some lace ornaments,” she said, as she sat her brown leather briefcase on the counter. “I need some white floss.”
“How many skeins do you need?”
“Better make it ten.”
I got her ten skeins of white embroidery floss and returned to the counter. “So, any new developments in Captain Moe’s case?”
“I’m afraid not. We’ve got all these shady characters—like John Martin—but nothing that ties them to Sandra Vincent’s murder.”
“It’s actually amazing how many shady characters there are involved with Tallulah General Hospital, isn’t it?” I told Riley about my visit to the Carstairs’ home yesterday and then Dr. Carstairs coming by here earlier.
“That’s scary. I’m glad Todd happened to be walking by.”
“Me, too. I doubt Dr. Carstairs would’ve tried to hurt me, but who knows?”
“Dr. Carstairs . . .” She drummed her fingertips on the counter as she looked up at the ceiling. “Bellamy Carstairs . . . That name rings a bell with me for some reason.”
