Cutting Ties Page 6

  “Oh?” I smiled. “Anyone I know?”

  She giggled. “Just my son. But a date’s a date, right?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely. You enjoy yourself, and tell your son I said hello.”

  “I will.” She glanced down, her eyes landing on the pillbox. Her brow creased with a frown. “Why are you carrying that around?”

  “Oh, it isn’t mine,” I said quickly. “I was just grabbing it for someone.”

  “I know it’s not yours,” Ethel said. “It’s mine.”

  “What?”

  She pointed to the underside of the box. “See? My initials are right there.”

  I flipped it over. Sure enough, the initials E.L. were written in black marker on the bottom.

  If the box was Ethel’s, how had Anne gotten ahold of it?

  “Was this…stolen?” I asked doubtfully.

  Ethel’s eyes widened. “Goodness, no. I had two so I gave this one away. No sense having two pillboxes, now is there?”

  I breathed a quick sigh of relief. “So you gave it to Anne.”

  “Anne? No, I gave it to Denise.”

  “Denise?”

  Ethel nodded. “She said she needed one for a friend.” She smiled knowingly.

  I forced a smile of my own. “Oh, I see.”

  She peered at me, probably sensing my uneasiness. “She didn’t take it to give to you?”

  “No,” I said. “It…it’s for someone else.”

  I spun on my heel and quickly unlocked my door, hoping Ethel wouldn’t have any more questions.

  I had enough of my own that needed answering.

  And I needed to start with Denise.

  ELEVEN

  I didn’t go and find Denise right away.

  Instead, I called Anne.

  “Did you figure out who did it?” she asked. No hello, no greeting whatsoever. Just instant grilling.

  “I'm not a magician, Anne,” I told her, exasperated.

  “I don't need a magician. I need a detective. So did you figure it out?”

  I ignored her question. “Where did you get the pillbox from?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  I wasn’t sure it did, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Just answer the question.”

  “Denise gave it to me,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Anne said irritably. “She saw all of my vitamin bottles and said something about how it must be a pain to open and close them every morning. Especially with my arthritis.”

  Anne had arthritis? This was news to me.

  “She suggested a pillbox, said I could sort out all the vitamins I needed at the beginning of the week.”

  “And so she just happened to bring you a box?”

  “I guess.” Anne was quiet for a moment. “I told her I’d look into getting one and the next thing I knew, she was coming by my office with that one. Said one of the residents had two and they weren’t using this one. Asked if I wanted it and I said sure.”

  There was nothing unusual or suspicious about the story. But I still had a weird feeling about it.

  “Why does this matter?” she asked. “What have you found out?”

  “Nothing yet.” At least that was the truth. “I just grabbed the box from your office and Ethel said it used to be hers. I wanted to confirm where you got it from.”

  “Are there any extra pills in there?” Her voice was sharp.

  “I have no idea. I haven’t looked yet.”

  “What are you waiting for?” she practically barked. “Open it now.”

  I bristled at her tone.

  She wasn’t the one in charge of this particular situation.

  I was.

  And I wasn’t about to let her order me around.

  “I have to go,” I told her.

  “Sunny, wait—”

  I didn’t. I hung up the phone and stared at the box for a minute. The phone on my desk rang and I immediately knew who it was. Anne. I let it roll to voicemail.

  Instead, I lifted the lid to the Friday section of pills. She obviously hadn’t been able to take those since she was out of the office after the accident. I dumped them carefully on to my desk. There were at least a dozen, in all shapes, sizes and colors.

  None of them stood out to me as being particularly nefarious. And none were labeled as a sleeping pill.

  I sighed. Someone with pharmaceutical knowledge would need to examine the pills to see exactly what was there.

  I didn’t know anyone with pharmaceutical knowledge.

  I put the pills back into the box and snapped the lid shut.

  My original plan after my conversation with Ethel involved talking to Denise. That was what I needed to do, I decided. Figure out if Denise knew anything. My gut was that she didn’t. In her no-nonsense way, she’d identified a problem—Anne’s vitamin bottles giving her trouble—and offered a solution.

  But I didn’t have much else to go on.

  I headed into the dining room, knowing that was where I would find Denise. Sure enough, she was busy clearing the dining room so she could soon transition to the lunch set-up.

  She smiled when she saw me. “How’s my favorite activity director?”

  I rolled my eyes. “How many do you know?”

  “Just one,” she admitted. “But you’re still my favorite.”

  She had a tray of silverware and was doling out forks and spoons at each place setting. I watched her work, noting the spring in her step and the relaxed expression on her face.

  “You look like you’re in a good mood,” I commented. “Anything special happen this weekend?”

  “This weekend?” She shook her head. “Nope.” She began to whistle, a jaunty little tune I didn’t recognize.

  “So you didn’t win the lottery?” I asked. “Because you’re in an awfully good mood…”

  Denise chuckled. “Not yet. But I keep trying. I roll with my lucky numbers every time. They might actually turn out to be lucky one of these times.”

  A sense of unease washed over me. She’d been in a good mood at the end of last week, too.

  Because Anne wasn’t there.

  I cleared my throat. “Listen, I sort of need to talk to you.”

  She looked up. “So talk.”

  I glanced around the dining room. No one was seated at the tables yet but I knew residents would begin trickling in before long. They always showed up well in advance of meal times. And Lola was definitely toiling away in the kitchen…and within listening range.

  “Not here.”

  Her brow puckered and I knew she was about to argue with me.

  “I need you to come to my office.”

  “Why?”

  “Just…just because.”

  “I’m working!”

  I grabbed her arm. “It’s important.”

  She shuddered. “The last time you said that, you dragged me into one of your stupid cases. I’m not getting involved, whatever this is about.”

  “I think you already are,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?”

  I half-dragged her out of the dining room. “Come with me. I just need you for a minute. I promise.”

  She grumbled but let me lead her to my office.

  Once there, I parked her in the chair across from my desk.

  She glared up at me. “Tell me what this is about or I’m outta here. I mean it.”

  I sighed. “Fine. It’s about Anne.”

  She quickly averted her eyes.

  “Something happened to her,” I said. I didn’t want to over share, but I knew I needed to give Denise a little context before I asked her about the pillbox.

  “Well, I know that,” she snapped. “She was in a car accident.”

  “Something else,” I said. “Something she asked me to look into.”

  I grabbed the pillbox and held it out to her.

  Denise’s eyes rounded.

  “What can you tell me about this?”r />
  Denise’s eyes welled with tears.

  Was she crying? Having an allergic reaction to something?

  “Are…are you okay?” I managed to ask.

  A strangled sob tore from her. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

  TWELVE

  I stared at her, dumbfounded.

  “What?” I asked, when I finally managed to find my voice.

  Tears leaked from Denise’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks in torrents. She wouldn’t answer me; she wouldn’t even look at me.

  “Denise,” I said sharply. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  She hazarded a glance at me. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Wh—what are you talking about?”

  I motioned to the pillbox. “I wanted to ask you why you got this for Anne. Why you gave it to her…”

  Denise gulped, her eyes still wide.

  And I suddenly realized that those weren’t the questions I should be asking her at all.

  It was my turn to swallow hard.

  I could barely get the words out. “Did you…drug her?”

  Denise answered with a fresh round of sobs.

  “Oh my God.”

  I yanked the lid off the Friday compartment and dumped the contents out on the desk. I still couldn’t make heads or tails of them but I had a feeling one of those pills was not one Anne had intended to take. I spread them out, frantically inspecting them. “What did you do, Denise? What did you do?”

  “I…I might have put a couple extra pills in her box.”

  “Might have?”

  “Okay, I did,” she admitted miserably. “But just one per day.”

  “Per day?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “What did you give her?” I demanded.

  “Just a sleeping pill,” she said. “I…it’s what I use.”

  I shook my head. “Unbelievable,” I muttered.

  Never in my wildest dreams would I think my closest friend at Oasis Ridge would willfully drug our supervisor.

  “What were you thinking?” I asked. “Huh?”

  Denise slashed at the tears still streaking down her cheeks. “I…I just wanted to slow her down a little. That’s all.”

  “Slow her down?” I repeated.

  “Yeah,” she said with a nod. “You know, make her less…less Anne-like. Maybe if she couldn’t think straight, she’d slow down on that hare-brained idea she had for the dining room.”

  “You can’t go around drugging people you disagree with!” I practically yelled. Then, remembering where I was, and that the walls might be thinner than I thought, I lowered my voice. “You don’t do that kind of thing, Denise.”

  She gave me a fiery look. “Easy for you to say. Your job wasn’t on the line because of that woman’s behavior.”

  I felt like my job was constantly on the line because Anne didn't like me, but I kept to that to myself.

  “That’s no excuse,” I said. “You purposely drugged her. You’re the reason she wrecked her car.”

  Denise’s face crumpled. “I know,” she said. “And I am sorry about that. But you have to believe me when I say I didn’t mean for that to happen! Anne never leaves the office, not in the middle of the day. And I knew she took her vitamins in the morning. I figured she’d take them, get a little sleepy, and that it would wear off by the time she left for home each night.”

  I shook my head and sighed. I believed Denise in that she hadn’t meant to endanger Anne’s life. But that didn’t excuse what she’d done.

  “Sunny?” Denise’s voice was tentative.

  I looked at her.

  “What happens now?” she asked hesitantly. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, her dark cheeks still tear-stained.

  “I don’t know.”

  She slumped in her chair. “I’m probably out of a job, aren’t I?”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Probably.”

  I didn’t want to say what else I was thinking.

  If I reported this, it would result in more than Denise being out of a job.

  It probably meant she was heading to jail.

  THIRTEEN

  Denise didn’t leave my office.

  She just sat there, looking shell-shocked.

  I didn’t blame her. I was feeling like an earthquake had just rocked my world, too.

  And I didn’t have a clue how to handle it.

  The last thing I wanted to do was turn in my friend. I didn’t agree at all with the methods she’d used to protect her job, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sympathize with what she was going through. I knew better than anyone how badly Denise needed her job. I knew that she often times helped out her brother, and I knew she sent along money to her great-aunt when she could. In fact, I’d been so struck by Great-Aunt Zelda’s circumstances that I’d arranged a small loan for her, too.

  But just because I sympathized did not mean I condoned her actions. And I also knew that keeping quiet about what she’d confessed wouldn’t be in my best interests, either. If I didn’t report what I knew, wouldn’t that make me an accessory to the crime?

  I didn’t know too much about law enforcement issues, but that thought alone was enough for self-preservation to rear its ugly head.

  I glanced at my friend. She was still sitting in the chair, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes cast downward. She sniffled every so often but otherwise she remained silent.

  “I’m going to have to tell Anne,” I said quietly.

  She gave a small nod. “I figured.”

  “I don’t want to,” I told her. “You’re my friend, Denise.”

  “I don’t want you to, either” she said. “But I know you have to. For your own sake.”

  My throat tightened and I felt tears start to build behind my eyes.

  A knock on my door caught both our attention.

  Connie was standing there, a confused expression on her face. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” I said quickly.

  Denise wiped her eyes.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  Connie looked from me to Denise and then back to me again. “I was just wondering if you needed help setting up the next activity. It was supposed to start five minutes ago but nothing is set up yet…”

  My eyes flew to the clock mounted on the wall. In all the drama, I’d completely forgotten that we were giving manicures before lunch.

  “Oh my gosh.” I sprang to my feet. “I don’t know how I forgot to do that.”

  “I can help,” Connie said quickly. “If you want me to, I mean.”

  I gave her a grateful smile. “That would be wonderful.”

  Connie looked at Denise, her expression clouding. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine,” I answered. “Right, Denise?”

  “Sure,” Denise said slowly.

  “We can continue our discussion later this afternoon,” I told her. “Right?”

  She gave a slow, painful nod.

  I hurried toward the door, anxious to get the activity set up. It didn’t involve much—just getting the nail polish and other accessories out of the locked cabinet and then spread out on the tables—but I felt bad that I’d neglected to do it. Several of the residents were regulars at the event, and I could only imagine what must have gone through their minds when they showed up and nothing was set up yet.

  I had one foot out of my office door when I bumped into Aidan.

  “Hey,” he said. The look of concern on his face told me why he was there. “I was just coming by to make sure everything was okay.”

  “I know, I forgot to set up the manicures,” I said as I walked down the hallway.

  Aidan walked alongside me, with Connie trailing a few steps behind.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just dealing with some other stuff and it completely got me sidetracked.” I shook my head, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I feel terrible.”

  “I
t’s no big deal,” Aidan said. “I can help with set-up.”

  “I already offered,” Connie told him.

  “She can have two extra sets of hands,” Aidan said. “We’ll have it ready to go in no time.”

  The frosty look Connie gave him was not lost on me.

  Aidan kept talking as we hustled up the stairs to the activity room.

  “Any word on Anne?” he asked.

  I realized that I hadn’t talked to him since last Friday. He had no idea I’d gone to see her and probably didn’t even know she’d come home from the hospital.

  And he most certainly didn’t know what I was currently dealing with.

  Memories of the conversation I’d just had with Denise came rushing back at me.

  “Not really,” I said, in answer to his question. “I know she’s doing a little better.”

  “So we don’t have any idea of a return date?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”

  He just nodded. I couldn’t help but notice that he looked pleased by the news.

  Just like everyone else, I thought.

  Anne was not missed.

  By anyone.

  There were half a dozen residents waiting for their manicures. I apologized profusely as I laid out supplies. With Aidan and Connie helping, set-up took less than sixty seconds and the ladies were soon busy picking out the polishes they wanted. Becky, one of the health aides, had signed up to do the manicures, along with Holly, a college student, who came by once a week to log service hours.

  Even after everyone was settled, I still lingered in the activity room.

  I was in no hurry to get back to my office, because I knew what was waiting for me.

  Denise.

  Maybe not in person—I highly doubted she was still sitting in my guest chair—but the specter of what she’d done was certainly lingering, waiting for me to take some kind of action.

  “Something is wrong.”

  I turned in surprise.

  I didn’t know Aidan was still there. But he was, just a few feet away from me, his eyes locked on me, a frown marring his face.

  “What?” I said.

  “Something is wrong,” he said flatly. “I can tell.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “What’s going on?”

  It would have been easy to tell him. Really easy.