Bitter Alpine: An Emma Lord Mystery by Mary Daheim

Author:Mary Daheim [Daheim, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2020-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I had no choice but to walk uphill to the hospital. Fortunately, the sidewalk had been cleared and the snow was still only a few lazy flakes. Better yet, there was almost no wind.

But my hand was shaking when I opened the heavy glass door. The last sound that I heard before I went inside was of a siren as an ambulance approached the emergency entrance on Third Street. I paused, seeing Jenny Bjornson behind the main desk. I knew Jenny and her parents fairly well. Just after Christmas, Vida had noted in “Scene” that Jenny had gotten engaged to a young man from Startup. I had to press my lips together to avoid revealing any sign of my worst fears.

Jenny was on the phone. When she saw me, her blue eyes widened. When she hung up, she said, “You already heard about Mrs. Runkel?”

I nodded. “I was at the sheriff’s office when the call came in,” I replied. “Did the ambulance attendant give you any information?”

Jenny shook her head. “They never do, really, unless they need a crash cart when the ambulance pulls in. I probably won’t hear anything about her status until they put her in a room. Did you know her daughter was admitted just an hour or two ago?”

“Yes. I wonder if they can put Mrs. Runkel and Mrs. Hibbert in the same room.”

Jenny grimaced. “That doesn’t always work so well. Mrs. Lila Blatt and Mrs. Mary Lou Blatt—Mrs. Runkel’s sisters-in-law—were in the same room a year or so ago. They didn’t get along very well at all.”

I recalled the incident. Lila had slammed a walker into Mary Lou’s ankle cast. Mary Lou had retaliated by pouring the water out of a bouquet Lila’s son Bill had sent her and then throwing the flowers out the window. Vida couldn’t stand either of them and had gloated for days.

“Is Amy Hibbert in a private room?”

“Let me check,” Jenny said, turning to her computer monitor. “No, she has a roommate, Mary Smith. I believe she’s an older woman who lives farther down Highway 2. Mrs. Smith was admitted Tuesday night. Her husband is here somewhere. His first name is John. Should we believe that?”

I shrugged. “There could be a dozen Mary and John Smiths in Skykomish and Snohomish Counties. You must have a lot of patients here now,” I remarked.

Jenny shrugged. “It’s that time of year. We always get overloaded right after the holidays, especially with elderly people. We only have one vacancy left for a woman. If we get any more female patients, we’ll have to send them to the hospital in Monroe. Mrs. Runkel will be put in with Mrs. Marsh after her condition is evaluated.”

I felt as if a load of TNT had exploded in my head. I didn’t want to think about how Vida would react to rooming with Patti Marsh. But then I didn’t want to think about Vida having to be hospitalized in the first place. Of course, I had to; that’s why I had come.

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