Polly Dent Loses Grip (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) (3 page)

 
Her red lips spread, smoothing the wrinkles that let me know just how painful this woman found it to be happy. “If you’ll be seated, I’ll call our Director of Administration and make sure he isn’t in an appointment.”

“Aren’t you his secretary?”

Her smile dimmed a few watts. “Yes, I am.”

“Then how is it you don’t know if he’s in a meeting or not?”

“I do take care of his appointments, ma’am, but he also has another entrance into his office that he sometimes uses. In this case of emergency, I’m sure you understand, he is very busy. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll check to see if he’s in.”

Hardy poked his head around me. “Got any vending machines around here?”

For sure, that meant Hardy felt better. If he was thinking about his stomach, then I knew he’d be okay. Guess him knowin’ I was handling things helped too.

Miss Pillsbury shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can brew you a cup of coffee if you’d like.”

I was ready to tell her to get on with her checking on Mr. Payne’s appointments when Hardy piped up with, “Nah, we don’t need that blood on our hands.”

Miss Pillsbury’s smile flat-lined. “I’m sorry?”

Even I had to look over and wonder if my man had lost his mind. Maybe his hawked-high plaid pants were making him short of breath.

 
Hardy flashed his gold tooth at Miss Pillsbury. “Don’t you read your Bible? It’s not for a woman to be making coffee.”

I caught on real quick. Hardy’s humor was in high gear. Poor Miss Pillsbury.

 
Miss Pillsbury cleared her throat. “I don’t drink it myself.”

“Shine the light around us, brother,” I encouraged, so we could get it over with.

“It’s Bible. He-brews.” He bent double and slapped his leg, laughing himself stupid. I shifted my gaze to Miss Pillsbury who looked downright scared, like God might send down some smoke bombs or something.

 
I winced. “We need to get your medication changed.”

Hardy swiped his sleeve across his mouth as he straightened, releasing a final chuckle. “I don’t take anything.”

“Maybe we should start some then.”

Miss Pillsbury skidded backward in her chair and looked through the doorway into Otis Payne’s office. Smile plastered, she motioned us inside and shut the door behind us.

Otis Payne got to his feet and extended his hand in greeting. I absorbed the decor--dark desk, huge potted plant, to the right of his desk, cushioned chairs and a sofa, and the door that led to the hallway Miss Pillsbury spoke of, presently shut.

Hardy beat me to the punch. “We want to know why the police aren’t here.”

“You do get right to the point, don’t you, Mr. Barnhart?”

“We do,” I replied. “And we expect you to do the same.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “I didn’t call them.”

When I pressed him to explain, he worked the already loose knot of his tie. “It was an accident, I’m sure. We’ll investigate why she was in the gym after hours, but the media would follow a call to the police and try
to
make a big deal of it.”

Hardy and I sat side by side on the leather sofa across from Otis’s desk. I put on my indignant face. “You’ve got a dead body not three doors down and you’re worried about the media?”

“It was an accident, Mrs. Barnhart, and I know what the police will do. They’ll examine all the nursing records and question residents. In short, it’ll create an uproar
—
”

“A panic, you mean.”

He conceded the point with a nod. “Yes. A panic. In order to ensure some control over the damage done and to protect the residents, I’m going to do my own interviewing and look over the patient charts. Dr. Kwan, our staff doctor, will arrive shortly to examine the body himself.”

“I’ll call the police myself,” I threatened.

 
Otis Payne’s eyes slid over to Hardy. “There is your husband to consider. He was very upset over Polly’s accusation and name calling. Did you tell Mrs. Dent about our discussion, Mr. Barnhart?”

This man was ruffling my feathers, for sure. “He did talk to her. Right there in the gym where she fell flat, and he has nothing to hide from the police. Leave him out of this.”

“I’m only suggesting
—
”

“I know exactly what you’re suggesting and I’m telling you
that
you can leave my husband out of this. Just because he and Polly had words
,
doesn’t mean he killed her.” I lifted a hand to rub the back of Hardy’s head. “Besides he couldn’t hurt a fly, poor scrawny thing.”

Hardy came to life, nodding his head and flexing his golf-ball muscle. “She’s right. Wouldn’t hurt a thing if I could and can’t anyway. Tisha’ll tell you, I’m not a man.”

“Not the man,” I corrected him.

Otis didn’t flinch. “I think you’re misunderstanding me.”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

Hardy’s leg started to jiggle, his hand rubbing up and down his thigh. I reached over and stilled his hand, twining my fingers through his. The gesture wasn’t lost on Otis Payne.

Hardy’s free hand covered mine. “I saw her in the gym. She was mumbling something at first, then I told her what you said
, Mr. Payne
. She got on the treadmill and started yelling. I got out of there real fast before I said something I didn’t mean. I didn’t do anything.”

Otis gave the simplest nod of his head, like somehow he wasn’t convinced. He fidgeted with a pencil—bite marks evident all along the eraser tip. My boy, Shakespeare did that. Awful habit. Never could use his pencils for long because the eraser got eaten. Come to think of it, he did have an awful lot of stomachaches in his school days. Got cured of the habit though. He bit into the eraser once and got jabbed in the jaw with a splinter. Had to take him to the dentist to get it removed, and if there’s one thing Shakespeare hated more than liver, it was going to the dentist. Course, me and the dentist had a good talk before he ever extracted that splinter. A good talk. I’m thinking maybe I’d have to tell Mr. Payne the story.

“You sure she was in there after hours?” I asked.

“Yes.” Hardy cocked his head to the side. “I did find it strange that she was in there after they’d closed, without an attendant. Isn’t it supposed to be locked?”

I raised a brow at the director.

Otis started shuffling papers on his desk. “If it’s a member of my staff, they will be
penalized
accordingly.”

“Is there another entrance to the gym? Who has access? And the powdery stuff, what’s that?”

“They use baby powder to keep their hands dry while working out. Recommended by our
p
hysical
t
herapist.” He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Barnhart, I can appreciate your concern over this matter, but I assure you I will take care of this in a satisfactory manner.”

Hardy squeezed my hand. He knew how I’d respond to such mumbo-jumbo. And there was
M
omma to consider. If this place wasn’t safe, we had to know. “Sounds to me like I should be getting on that phone right this minute and calling those police.”

Another squeeze. Harder this time.

“I’ll meet them at the door and march them right into this office.”

 
Otis’s lips firmed into a straight line. “Please, Mrs. Barnhart, let me investigate. That’s all I’m asking. Fatal falls are common in the elderly. Another resident had a fatal fall a couple of years ago.”

“In the exercise room?” Sounded to me like he’d better shut that thing down or he’d be laying headstones with epitaphs that spoke of happy lives lived to the fullest, until exercise killed them good and gone.

“No. This man fell in a hallway.”

I turned to Hardy. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to have
M
omma.”

“I assure you, Mrs. Barnhart, I take all precautions necessary to protect
—
”

“Then you best be getting to the bottom of this. At least the police would set everything straight.”

“I won’t have them traipsing through my building asking their questions until I’ve had time to secure details from my staff. An accident is an accident. Nobody is accusing anyone of foul play
—
”

“You just pointed your finger at my man, Mr. Payne.”

“A mere slip of the tongue. Really, there is no reason to think of Mrs. Dent’s fall in such a
suspicious
light.”

“What makes you so sure?” I slipped the question in.

Hardy leaned forward. “If it wasn’t an accident, Mr. Payne, LaTisha’s your woman. She feels crime. Almost has her degree in police science. You might have read of her last case in Maple Gap’s newspaper about . . . ” his face scrunched in concentration. “What? Eleven months ago?”

Otis’s hands fluttered to his tie where they see-sawed the knot. “If we need you, I’m sure your help would be appreciated.”

Yeah, and I can lose
a hundred
pounds in a day.

A knock on the door interrupted Hardy’s flapping gums
,
and there appeared in the doorway the little lady who had delivered snacks earlier. Susan Mie’s dark pony-tail slithered along her back as she hurried into the room, saluting us with a wan smile as she passed. “You wished to talk with me, Mr. Payne?”

“I did, Sue. I hope you brought your records.”

She held up a sheaf of papers. “Is there something wrong?”

“There might be,” he cleared his throat. “We
—
”

 
Another knock on the door and Gertrude stuck her head in. “Doctor Kwan’s here. Is there something going on in the gym?” Her eyes swept over us. “Or maybe there’s a party and I’m missing it.”

I took my time eyeballing Otis as he worked to placate Gertrude. He didn’t appear put off by the woman’s interruption or loud voice. As a matter of fact, he spoke to her with a calmness and lack of tie straightening that I found rather curious. He didn’t let on that Polly was dead though, blabbing some drivel about a problem with the equipment.

“Well, okay. Thomas and I are taking a walk together. He does so love to exercise.”
S
he flashed a smug grin at me. One of those victorious grins. “He’s probably waiting on me now.”

“Good evening to you, Gertrude
.
” Otis gave his nod of dismissal.

Gertrude turned with the speed of a sail barge, then paused to glance back over her shoulder at Mr. Payne. “I’m looking forward to the banquet. It’ll be wonderful to see your wife again. She’s such a sympathetic listener.”

Sure, and anyone listening to Gertrude would feel everyone’s sympathy. Sorry, Lord. Guess that isn’t a very kind thought. Truth be told, people probably say such things of me, so I should give the woman a chance.

Otis
offered a
plastic
smile
. “
My wife is
looking forward to the event.”

Now that was a bald faced lie. Not only did Otis drum his fingers, but his eye contact was poor, and those are sure body language signs that a lie is being spun. Gertrude, however, didn’t seem to notice, and left without further comment—a minor miracle, to say the least.

Through all this, Sue Mie stood quietly off to the left, eyes on Mr. Payne. As his attention followed Gertrude’s exit, her stare pierced him like a hundred needles.

Chapter Four

Sweet Sue Mie might end up being a tigress in sheep skin. Her peripheral vision must have caught me watching. She shifted her head in my direction, the hardness in her expression melting so completely I almost questioned whether I’d truly seen it or not. But I had.

Otis blinked back to attention and held out an expectant hand toward Sue. “I’m researching all the angles, just to make sure everything is as it should be.”

She handed over the files. “You not call an outside doctor? EMT? Police?” Not just an observation, to be sure, her tone had the edge of shattered glass. My brain heated. Sue Mie wasn’t the least bit wary facing her boss, making me sure she had nothing to hide. But why the attitude?

Mr. Payne didn’t seem to notice. He shoved piles of papers away from the center of his desk, set the file down and opened it, his eyes zig-zagging over the page. This was my chance to ask Sue Mie a couple of questions. I’d rather get my impressions of the situation from the horse’s mouth than look over a dry report.