A Case of Murder by Monte Carlo by Becki Willis

Author:Becki Willis [Willis, Becki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998790237
Published: 2019-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Before leaving for the day, Laurel made a final round to check on patients. She spared extra time with the two patients who seemed to be there alone. She hadn’t seen signs of visitors to either of their rooms.

Because she didn’t consider Cade a visitor, Mr. Miller was included as one of those two. She made him the same offer she had issued Mrs. Lewinsky.

“Is there anyone I can call for you? Do you have anything that needs tending at home? A pet that needs checking, maybe?”

“No pets. But I do have a small fall garden,” the old man mentioned. “I reckon I could get my neighbor to check on it for me. He can keep whatever he harvests for his troubles.”

“I’ll be happy to call him, if you’ll give me his number.”

“Sure. It’s….” He paused, scrunching his face in thought. “Uhm, it’s…”

Seeing he was having trouble remembering the number off hand, she smiled to put him at ease. “Just give me his name and the street, and I’ll look him up in the phone book. Does he need to bring you anything from your house?”

“My slippers would be nice. These floors are mighty cold, even with these socks you put on me. And my own pajamas would be better than this contraption.” He plucked at the cotton hospital gown as he rattled off his neighbor’s name and address.

“No problem. I’ll call before I leave for the night. Be sure and let the night shift know if you need anything.”

Once back at the nurse’s station, Laurel looked up the number and made the call, relaying Mr. Miller’s request.

“I’ll bring the clothes, but the garden is another matter,” the neighbor said. “Wally hasn’t grown a garden in close to five years!”

“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “He does seem to be having a bit of an issue with his memory since his heart attack.”

“That’s nothing new!” the neighbor harrumphed. “Last week, he asked me and Martha to come over to dinner.”

“I take it dinner didn’t go so well?” she guessed.

“Besides the fact that Wally don’t cook, the real issue is that Martha died four years ago. Wally was a pallbearer.”

“So, you’re saying his memory has been failing for a while now,” Laurel surmised.

“Happens to the best of us,” the neighbor said. “I know where he keeps the key. I’ll fetch his clothes and be down in the morning, if that’s not too late. Like Wally, I don’t like to drive after dark.”

Laurel couldn’t resist. “Oh, so Mr. Miller still drives?” she inquired innocently.

“Just local. Mostly to Whataburger, doctor’s office, and Wal-Mart. If you can’t buy it at Super Wal-Mart, we figure we don’t need it too bad.”

“Would you say he’s a good driver?”

“Sure. Always drives real slow and steady. Takes excellent care of that car, too. It belonged to his wife, so it has emotional value. He’d be devastated if something happened to it. I reckon he must have driven himself to the hospital, because it’s not in his driveway. Although I keep telling him, the way he leaves it unlocked and all, someone’s gonna steal it one day.

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