Deadly Dosage, page 9
I took a liver, with lettuce on rye and placed it on my plate, along with a handful of potato chips. I popped the top on my can of soda. “Did you fix this yourself?”
“Just me. Rufus watched.”
He took a potato chip from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “Can I get you a glass?”
“No thanks. Who’s Rufus?” I glanced around, expecting to see a fierce looking dog, like a Boxer or Rottweiler. What I saw was a large black cat with a white chest and piercing, emerald green eyes staring at me from the living room.
Lloyd nodded at the cat. “That’s Rufus. He was hanging around the trash for a week, before he decided to come in out of the cold. We’re pals now, aren’t we Rufus.”
Rufus blinked his eyes, which in cat language meant affirmative. He kept his eyes on me, weary of the newcomer. He didn’t hiss at me, so I figured that was a good sign.
I took a piece of my liver sausage and held it out for him. “Rufus, want some?”
Rufus licked his paw and rubbed it over ear and forehead. Then he turned and walked away.
“Guess he’s doesn’t,” I said bewildered.
“That’s because he ate a slice before I picked you up.”
“Is this your home, or your parents’ house?” Its decoration was simple and masculine, but that was the trend in decorating nowadays. All white with a few splashes of color. Lloyd’s home held more charm though, perhaps because it was an older house, dating back to at least the late forties and the woodwork was warm and beautifully detailed.
He ate quietly, content in his surroundings.
“Mine. My parents live a few blocks over in a neighboring subdivision. I liked the neighborhood, so when this house came available, I jumped at it.”
Hmm. Tight knit family. He seemed secure and stable. Virtues I never seemed to possess.
“Does your sister live nearby too?”
“No. She lives in Muskego on the lake. Personally, I think only cabins should be on lakes. Fishing and suburbia don’t mix well in my book.”
“And your brother?”
“Lives in Chicago.”
He looked at my empty plate.
“Another sandwich?”
“No thank you. I’m full.”
“Cookie?”
“You made those too?” My eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“No, store bought but I like them,” he stated honestly.
“Sure. Never tasted a cookie I didn’t like.”
He got up and took a package of Oreos from the cabinet. A sudden image of black crumbs between my teeth made me regret my decision. Maybe if I drank a lot of soda the crumbs would go away.
He offered me the freshly opened package and I took a cookie.
“Take two, they’re small,” he said, shoving the package in front of me.
I took another and placed it on the table.
“So, Lloyd,” I asked, in an attempt to postpone gobbling up my cookies, “where do you work?”
He finished chewing his cookie. No crumbs in his teeth. Darn it.
“I’m a pharmaceutical sales rep for Allied Health. Need any free samples?”
I laughed. “I’ll let you know.”
He looked at the wall clock above the sink. “Better get you back to work before you get in trouble.”
I wanted to stay there and learn more about him. I felt so comfortable, I had completely forgotten about work.
He went into the living room to get our coats and I placed the used dishes in his sink. I started to rinse them off when he came back into the room.
“Don’t bother I’ll tend to them later.”
He helped me on with my coat and pulled my tucked hair out from beneath the collar. His hands were warm on my neck. He bent down and kissed me behind my right ear and I leaned into him. He turned me around and kissed me passionately. My arms encircled his neck, my body pressed into his and my lips yearned for more of his touch.
“Whoa, Sunny,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t start something we can’t finish.”
Mortified, I pulled away from him. Just what the heck was I thinking? I had to watch myself around him. I certainly never felt this way around Sam the S.O.B.
My emotions must have shown on my face. He kissed me on my forehead.
I looked around for Rufus. He was staring at me again with narrowed eyes. He licked his chops as though he were looking at a bowl of tuna. Apparently, he didn’t like to share his property.
“Later, Rufus,” I said to him. Rufus swished his tail and blinked.
Lloyd ushered me out into the cold. I jumped into his car and before I knew it, we were back at Ageless Grace. We walked together through the front door exactly an hour after we left. I said goodbye and Lloyd turned down the hall to visit his dad and I pulled one of the Oreos out of pocket and ate it.
Chapter 20
Shantel left for lunch quickly after I returned. I heard her stomach growling and felt a twinge of guilt. It didn’t last long. Five calls in a row were for information on nurse aide classes, and the next three calls were from foreign doctors who wanted their names paged over the intercom. Personally, I could think of one hundred other positions I would prefer to mine, including that of fry cook at a fast food restaurant.
My hands were busy clicking away on the computer keyboard when a woman’s cough caught my attention. Amy Foster, Mr. Schroeder’s daughter, stood at the window. She thrust a bill through the opening, almost hitting me in the face. I took it from her.
“Look at it!” she shouted.
I read the bill. Her father’s insurance company billed for coinsurance. “And now what?” I asked sarcastically.
“It’s wrong,” she said.
Here we go again. In my book, the customer is always wrong. “What’s wrong?”
“He has Medicare. He doesn’t owe anything.” She smirked.
“Yes, he does. Medicare only pays 100% for the first twenty days, and then a daily coinsurance rate kicks in. As you see here,” I pointed to the amount on the notice, “this is the total coinsurance amount I billed his insurance. This is what they paid, and this is what he owes.”
She stood her ground. “That’s not right.”
Whatever lady. “Fine. Call his insurance company and argue it out.”
“That’s your job,” she fired back.
“I did my job.” I handed her the explanation of benefits form back.
“Is the administrator in?” she said in a threatening tone.
“Yes. Go to your left and down three doors to her office.”
She stomped away with an arrogance she couldn’t back up with knowledge. I shrugged my shoulders and got back to work. The administrator would tell her the same thing, and it was a solid bet, she would refuse to pay the bill.
The phone rang while I was sending some envelopes through the postage machine. I rushed to answer it and quickly walked into the frame of the doorway, snapping my right shoulder back. Pain radiated down my arm but there was no time to react.
“Ageless Grace,” I managed to squeak out.
“This here’s Leroy.” He paused. I heard loud rap music in the background and people laughing. “Ya’ll tell Shantel I be waitin’ for ‘er when she gets off work.” He hung up, and I wondered if Shantel needed protection from this guy.
And speak of the devil’s prey, in walked Shantel. She looked so happy I didn’t want to tell her, yet she needed to be prepared.
“Hey, Sunny,” she said smiling as she came through the door. “How was your lunch? Get some?”
“Shantel!” I said with mock disgust. “A little,” I kidded.
“Girl, that’s what I want to hear.” She did a little dance and slapped me on my injured shoulder. “So, any important calls while I was out?”
“Just one,” I said. “You may want to sit down first.”
Her eyes grew serious and she took the seat I vacated. “Was it Leroy?”
I nodded.
“Shit.”
“He said he’d be waiting for you tonight when you get off work.”
“He said what?” She shook her head in denial. “Lord in Heaven.”
“Shantel, maybe you should leave early tonight.”
“It don’t matter, Sunny. He knows I’m living with my mama,” she said, ending with a sigh. “He’ll just go there. No. I gotta face him on neutral ground.”
“Do you want me to go out with you? I can ask someone to watch the phones?”
“Nah. It’s not like he’s dangerous.” My doubt reflected on her face She tried to convince herself otherwise. “Hell, it’s okay. Probably just wants some money for weed and booze. That’s all.”
“You don’t have to face him tonight.” I thought she was making a mistake.
“Sure I do. I’ll get it over with.” She waved me off. “Stop worrying. You’ll get wrinkles. Then Mr. Hot will dump your skinny white ass.”
“Well, I’ll be here if you need me.”
She nodded and busied herself with the messages I took while she was at lunch.
I took my stack of therapy charges back to my office and sat down at my desk. Leroy’s call depressed me and I wanted to feel happy again, as I did when I returned from lunch. A quick trip to the Medicare wing would solve that. Specifically a trip to Mr. Harper’s room.
Chapter 21
Casually, I walked down the hallway, stopping to check resident’s names as I went, pretending to do work. I passed Mr. Harper’s room intentionally and made my way to the nurses’ station. I checked their patient census log. Mr. Schroeder went out to the hospital while I was at lunch. Then I remembered that his daughter was in the building. The hairs on my neck stood up. This had to be more than just a coincidence.
As walked back to Mr. Harper’s room, I wondered if I would be imposing. After all, Lloyd was here to see his dad and he already spent time with me. Maybe just a momentary glance inside his room would be enough. I strolled by his room, and caught the intimate sight of Lloyd embracing his father. Then I noticed the bottle of juice on Mr. Schroeder’s bedside table, over Mr. Harper’s shoulder. I needed to investigate so I casually entered the room as though I was on a routine bed check.
“Hi,” I said crossing the room, “don’t let me disturb you.”
“Hello Sunny,” said Mr. Harper, “did you enjoy lunch with my son? He didn’t try and kiss you, did he?”
“Dad,” Lloyd said, obviously embarrassed, casting me a fleeting glance.
I smiled at his father. “Actually, I tried to kiss him.”
Mr. Harper chuckled. “You got spunk! Told you she was a smart one,” he said to Lloyd.
“So you did, Dad,” Lloyd conceded. “Don’t egg him on,” he directed at me.
Seeing them sitting side-by-side, the affection between father and son was apparent from their body language, Lloyd’s hand resting on his father’s hand, and his father’s arm around Lloyd’s shoulder. They both had lively brown eyes, nice bone structure, and engaging personalities. Their builds were also similar.
“Sorry to barge in, but I noticed Mr. Schroeder is back in the hospital. I wanted to check something out.”
I walked over to the bedside table and picked up the juice bottle. “He seems to get sick every time he drinks this stuff.”
“Rodney didn’t want it,” Mr. Harper offered. “That homely daughter forced it on him. She always does. A bully. And that little boy of hers isn’t much better. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with that one.”
I smelled the juice container. Label read orange juice. Contents smelled like orange juice. Maybe the guy was allergic to it.
“What?” Lloyd asked with a curious face.
“Orange juice,” I said, screwing the cap back on. “Still, it’s strange it made him sick.” I had an idea. “Lloyd, do you have any friends who work in a lab, who could analysis this?”
“Analyze orange juice?” He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t you just read the ingredient label?”
“I know he doesn’t need it. I talked to Carol, the RN. So why does his daughter always bring it in?”
Mr. Harper and his son exchanged glances and shrugged.
“We give,” said the older of the two.
“So, Lloyd, are you friendly with anyone in the lab?”
“Yeah, John Tarver, he works out of our lab in Illinois. I could call him and go out there tomorrow. I need to stop into the corporate headquarters anyway, but I’ve been putting it off due to the weather. I’m sure he’ll do it. It could take a week or so.”
Mr. Harper’s lips tightened into a straight line and his eyes glittered. “What are you thinking?”
“Attempted murder,” I said seriously. Verbalizing the words make me shiver.
“Poison?” Lloyd asked disbelievingly. “Isn’t that going about things the hard way?”
“Not if you want it to look like old age killed him. He’s had a history of health problems, hopefully not all due to the daughter.”
“Can’t you notify the hospital?” Mr. Harper suggested.
“Not without proof. That’s why we need a lab report.” I felt like I just jumped into a page from a Nancy Drew novel. Maybe I was hoping for some excitement or maybe I read too many thrillers, or maybe, just maybe, I was right. I had to be sure.
I handed Lloyd the juice bottle. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No, but I hope you’re wrong.”
“So do I. But if I’m not, we might be able to save a man’s life.”
Lloyd nodded and rubbed his chin, “Dad?”
“Do it, Lloyd. It can’t hurt.”
Lloyd placed the bottle in his jacket pocket just as Amy Foster walked into the room.
Amy smiled at Lloyd and then cut her raven black eyes to me. “The administrator is checking into that little problem we discussed. Perhaps if you spent less time chatting and more time working, the residents’ family members wouldn’t have to resolve so many issues caused by you.”
She looked over my shoulder to the bedside table. Her sharp eyes registered that the juice bottle was gone. I thought I caught a glimpse of fear in them before it quickly vanished. She turned and swiftly left the room, leaving behind her odd scent of old hairspray.
“Wow,” said Lloyd. He hummed the wicked witch music from Wizard of Oz and I laughed, even though I was shaken by the encounter.
“Well, I better get back to work before the witch has me fired.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Lloyd said without rising from the bed.
“Okay. Bye, Mr. Harper.”
“Take care, Sunny.” He patted Lloyd on the hand.
I could tell he was proud of his son. I acknowledged him with a quick nod of my head and I left the room, feeling that I got the ball rolling. Where it stopped was anyone’s guess.
At 3:35, I tried to convince Shantel it would be better if I waited with her. Once more, she declined my invitation. When I tried to ask again, she held out her hand to stop me. I wasn’t going to fight a losing battle, so I left for home. I did not see anyone loitering outside or in a car anywhere. Could be Leroy was just harassing her, but I still worried about her.
Chapter 22
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a six-pack of beer, a bottle of wine, cheese, and some junk food. Could be I’d invite Lloyd in for a nightcap tomorrow evening if the mood was right, and I didn’t want to be empty handed.
Brandi opened the door when I arrived as though she had been expecting me.
“Hey, how did you know I was out here?”
“Heard you futzing with the door handle. Figured you had your hands full.”
“Just picked up a few things.” I paused and sniffed. “What smells so good in here?”
“I picked up some perfume scented candles. I have one burning on the cocktail table.”
“So how did the interview go?” I said walking into the kitchen. I placed the bag on the counter and unloaded its contents.
Brandi put the wine, beer, and cheese in the fridge. “Good I think.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What does it mean if you get a salary instead of a wage?”
I finished putting the chips, pretzels, and crackers into the cabinet and closed the door with my knee.
“Wage is hourly. Salary is yearly. With a salary, you usually don’t get paid for overtime hours.”
She looked dazed.
“What don’t you get?”
“Um, so which is better?”
“Well, that depends on the salary.”
“They said it pays $25,000 a year.”
“So, based on forty hours per week, that’s roughly $12 per hour.”
“I make about $100 dollars a day at Hot Pants without overtime. Some days less, others more. Which is better?”
I’d give her a calculator but I didn’t want to confuse her further, so I did my own calculations to speed things up.
“You work 7.5 hours a day?”
“Yeah, usually.” She bit her fingernails, a nervous habit that evolved shortly after she moved in with me. I can be a little intense, or so I’ve been told.
“Okay.” I used the calculator on my cell phone. “That’s a little over $13 per hour. Including tips, right?”
She nodded. “Gee, so I’d be losing money?”
“Looks that way. But what would you prefer to do?” I know better than to ask her to make a decision. She couldn’t decide on which half of the banana to eat first.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if they offer you the job you could ask for…hold on.” I typed some figures into the phone calculator. “Um, ask for $28,000. That will be more than you’re making now.”
“Okay. Thanks. Say, can I have one of those beers?”
“Help yourself. Any plans for dinner?”
“No. What are you making?”
I contorted my mouth as I thought. That was my bad habit. “How about grilled cheese and…” I opened a cabinet door and pushed stuff aside. Slim pickings. I really should have bought more at the store but I couldn’t wait to get home. “And, a side of green beans?”
“Anything. I’m starving.”
