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Authors: Elaine Orr

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Real Estate Appraiser - New Jersey

Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 07 - Vague Images (15 page)

BOOK: Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 07 - Vague Images
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I waited in the tiny space just inside the front door and amused myself by trying to count the number of pieces of candy corn in a large canning jar on the counter. You could guess the number for free, but there was also a donation jar on the counter, so I guessed 343 and put a dollar in the jar.

“Come on back.”  Dr. Welby stood at the entrance of the narrow hall
. I followed him, and he lowered his voice. “If you win those, don’t eat any.”

“Why not?”

“I watched one of the kids load the jar,” he said and gestured to a card table chair that sat next to his desk. On the desk was a sign that had a list of titles, stacked one on top of the other. Medical advisor, volunteer coordinator, disaster donation coordinator.

“You all share this desk?”

“Not at the same time,” he said. “I think it’s the director’s hint to the local board that we need another desk or two. No idea where we’d put them. What can I do for you?”

I’m used to Dr. Welby’s rapid-fire sentences
. “I wanted some ideas,” I began.

“Don’t know much about corn hole contests,” he said.

“Corn toss,” I emphasized. “Not about that. It’s about the hospital.”  He raised an eyebrow. “About whom I can talk to there.”

“About what?”

“Well, you know I found that woman’s body.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I want to know who did it.”

“Not on my radar.”  He eyes belied humor
. “The police don’t want to tell you?”

“Nope
. And they’ve talked to a kid I know a couple of times. I want to be sure he isn’t charged with anything.”  This was not true. I didn’t want Lucas charged with Tanya Weiss’ death, but I wasn’t worried that it would happen.

Dr. Welby was sitting in the kind of office chair that’s on wheels
. He leaned back in the chair, which squeaked. “I figure it was somebody she was about to lay off. Lots of people didn’t like how she did her efficiency studies.”  He placed air quotes around the last two words.

I leaned forward
. “Like who?”

He shrugged
. “Everybody. But let’s see…the Board probably wouldn’t have gone through with it, but I heard she recommended that there be no surgeons on call between midnight and six A.M.”

Something nagged in the back of my mind
. “So, the hospital wouldn’t be able to find someone if a person needed more than stitches?” 
Where had I heard someone say that?

“Several surgeons live in town, of course, but if no one is officially on call, they could all be down in Atlantic City
. And of course, people on call get paid a little, so the younger docs would lose a bit of money.”

“Why younger ones?”

“They volunteer more to be on call. Helps pay student loans and they hope no one needs them when they’re on call.”

“Sounds like fire fighters,” I mused.

“People die when they can’t get either one,” Dr. Welby said.

“Good point
. So, do you know some of these doctors?”

“Not well
. But if I was doing what you want to do, I’d talk to someone who works there full-time. Doctors generally don’t.”  He paused, thinking. “Maybe, oh, a senior nurse, or what’s that guy’s name from church?”

“Nelson?”

Dr. Welby snapped his fingers. “That’s him. He buys supplies, so he talks to everybody.”

I didn’t want to say Nelson didn’t want to have much to do with me, so I asked, “Anyone else come to mind?” 

“Sandra Cartwright goes to First Prez. She’s a good charge nurse, and a friend of my wife’s.” He pointed an index finger at me. “But don’t bug them. People who work there have had a lot of stress since the hospital merged with that for-profit group.”

I thanked him and sidestepped a request that I attend the next CPR course by saying I’d taken one
. Ten years ago, but I didn’t say that.

Within a few minutes I had a plan
. Reverend Jamison always makes a big pitch for our fundraisers at First Prez the weekend prior to one of our events. A lot of churches do this because they all send people to Harvest for All. I knew this mostly because Lance tells me. I haven’t gone to church regularly since my sophomore year of high school. I didn’t have some big rift with a minister, I was avoiding a boy I had a crush on who kind of dumped me, and never went back much. Scoobie goes regularly, but to various churches. I’d have to hope he wouldn’t be at First Prez this Sunday. He’d figure why I was there and rat me out to Aunt Madge.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

ON SUNDAY I got up in plenty of time to get ready for the ten-thirty service. Scoobie had gone to Saint Anthony’s for the nine o’clock Mass because it was the third Sunday of the month and the Knights of Columbus have a monthly pancake and sausage breakfast.

The last three days had been a balancing act between appraisal work, the fundraiser, and staying aware of Lucas’ actions
. I didn’t want him ending up with some enemy of his father’s and me not notice for a day or two.

Lucas was already in the kitchen when I got there and had made coffee
.

“You want to come to First Prez with me?”

“You think Kim’ll be there?”

“Um, not really
. Just thought you might want to do something besides hunt for her.”

He shook his head
. “I’m going over to Asbury Park today. She’s a Bruce Springsteen fan. Maybe she’ll want to see where he used to hang out.”

I wished him luck, thinking that the town, at least the part that ran along the ocean, looked really different than it did when Springsteen grew up there
. It had undergone a couple of economic development attempts, the first somewhat centered around a casino that had gone under. I heard more recent efforts were working out better.

Reverend Jamison knew I planned to be at First Prez
. He said that he would direct people to me so they could ask questions about the corn toss as they ate donuts and coffee after the service. I had not mentioned my plans to Aunt Madge, who would accuse me of having an ulterior motive that went beyond publicity for Harvest for All. And would be right.

At the end of the service, I seated myself as far from the donuts as possible and told myself a cup of coffee would sate my hunger pangs
. It took about two minutes to figure that no one would seek me out, so I stood and began to move among the eight tables of congregants who had found their way to the community room.

I knew they were familiar with Harvest for All
. Since it shared a wall with the room we were in, it would be impossible not to know. I stared at the part of the room opposite of where Aunt Madge and Harry were eating. He had given me a jaunty wave as they sat down, and Aunt Madge a not-so-enthusiastic nod.

The first people to seem interested in the corn toss were a couple in their late twenties or early thirties
. The wife looked ready to deliver a baby on their way home, and they promised to come watch the corn toss if they weren’t otherwise busy. This brought laughs from two other young couples at their table. They did not promise to attend.

I was trying to make my way to Nelson Hornsby
. I thought I knew who Sandra Cartwright was, and saw her several tables away. But Dr. Welby’s view was correct. Nelson would know a lot of hospital employees because he organized purchases for every unit in the hospital. He had to have an idea about who hated Tanya Weiss enough to kill her. Besides maybe himself.

The poor man almost escaped my questions, but Reverend Jamison was talking to the woman next to Nelson and it would have seemed rude for him to leave
.

“Jolie, you know these folks, right?”  Reverend Jamison gestured at the four people at the table.

“I know Nelson, and I bet you’re his wife.”  I leaned across the table to shake her hand.

“Yes, Erica Hornsby
. And these are our friends Peter and Arlene Macomb.”

I greeted them and slid into a vacant chair next to Nelson
. “I know it sounds like a silly fundraiser, but those are the kinds that bring in the most donations.”

The four of them asked a couple of polite questions about timing and the location
.  Then a woman at the next table called to Erica and Arlene and they half-turned to talk to her.

Peter stood and gathered napkins and cups
. “I’ll take these to the trash. Be right back.”

Nelson looked at me, eyebrow half raised.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but the police keep talking to the young man staying with me.”

Nelson nodded
. “The famous guy in the hoodie.”

I forced a smile
. “I’ve known him since he was ten.”  No need to mention I’d had no idea where Lucas was for years. “I hope they don’t really think he killed her, but it’s hard on a guy in his early twenties to deal with all the questions. So, I’m asking people if they have any ideas they didn’t share with the police.”  When he seemed about to dismiss me, I added. “I think people will sometimes talk to someone not in law enforcement more easily than to the police.”

Nelson frowned and spoke in a low tone
. “I know people in every part of the hospital. It would be easier to figure out if anyone
liked
her. It wasn’t just what she was tasked to do. She was condescending and thought anyone who worked there didn’t have what she called
enough distance
to see how things could be different.”

“I heard there is a list floating around of who she specifically recommended be fired.”

His tone held barely hidden sarcasm. “No doubt if such a document exists the police have it.”

I frowned
. “How widely was it distributed?”

“I never saw it, if it even exists.”  Nelson’s wife seemed to have realized our conversation was strained
. With a slight pang of guilt when she gave me a puzzled stare, I remembered she was ill.

“I’m bugging your husband,” I said
. “I shouldn’t bother him on a weekend.”

At my friendly tone she smiled
. “He needs to be bothered.”  She turned back to her friend as Peter walked back up from trash duty.

I stood
. “I’ll probably be over there this week. I’ll stop in.”

A familiar voice next to me said, “No doubt he’ll change his locks.”

Nelson relaxed as he looked at Aunt Madge. “It’s a thought.”

I nodded at Nelson and watched Aunt Madge for a second. She was heading for the exit and probably thought I’d follow her
. Instead I scanned for Sandra Cartwright. She was putting on a light-weight fall jacket as she said good-bye to a friend she had been sitting with.

I took more time than needed to collect my paper napkins and coffee cup, and tossed them in a trash can and followed Sandra into the hall.

She surprised me by turning her head and smiling at me. “Doctor Welby warned me about you, you know.”

I stifled a groan
. “He did say he thinks highly of you.”

Sandra Cartwright had a laugh that was kind of like a soft wind chime, and the lines on her face were smile creases
.

Having apparently seen that Sandra did not consider me a bother, Aunt Madge called, “See you later today, Jolie?”

“Scoobie and I might be over for afternoon bread.”

“Bring the kids.”  She sped up to join Harry.

“You have children?” Sandra asked.

“No
. Two young people who used to live in Ocean Alley are staying with me for a few days. Late teens/twentyish.”  I hoped it would be both of them again soon.

“Ah
. Now, as I understand it, you want me to think about possible murder suspects.”

We had reached the door that led outside
. I leaned forward to push its handle and let her walk out ahead of me. “You could say that. Mostly I’m looking for people who were especially angry with her. Maybe she recommended their jobs be eliminated.”

Sandra didn’t say anything as we walked a few steps in the parking lot, then she paused and looked at me
. “All because someone you know is a suspect?”

I thought fast
. No need to tell her Lucas was more of an excuse than a reason to talk to her. “He isn’t a suspect yet, but he’s been questioned a couple of times. He doesn’t have lots of money for a lawyer, and if they call him in again he really would have to hire one.” Sounds good to me. I hope Sandra agrees.

“And you are sure that person is innocent.”

“I think it’s more likely I killed her, and I never met her either. Until I found her body, which is another reason I’m…intrigued.”

“People talk about how she focused so many of her recommendations on the nursing staff
. She did, but in some ways it was not as hard for us as some of the specialty positions.”

“Why do you say that?”

“A couple of reasons. We’re the largest cohort of hospital employees, and we sort of form our own support group. It was kind of us against Tanya. And there are also lots of other jobs for nurses in town. Or at least within ten miles.”

“But not for other people who might have been laid off?”

She nodded. “I’ve heard, no verification of course, that she thought some units could be run by contractors. Some of the people whose jobs would have been eliminated might have been able to come back as contractors, but not everyone.”  She gave her soft wind chime laugh again. “Those HR folks had to give her information about salaries and staffing levels and such. I heard some of them were really ticked that they had helped her and she might stab them in the back by saying their work could be contracted out.”

“That’s…interesting
. Did you hear anything about a memo that lists jobs, or maybe hospital departments, to be cut?”

“There are two dozen rumors, and I doubt many of them have a lot of credence.”  She thought for a moment
. “I think the folks in the ER were angriest, as a group. They know how much difference a minute or a certain piece of equipment can make. They and Sam Dent, you know him in Radiology?”

“Met him briefly, but I don’t really know him.” 
Not that I’d forget anyone that rude.

“I can’t think of the name of the equipment he and the ER docs wanted
. It was an ultrasound that would help diagnose injuries without having to transport the patient to x-ray. We have some portable x-ray equipment already, but only for bones, nothing like the machine they wanted. Sam and a couple of ER staff were furious at the idea that could be cut.”

When I started to say something
, she raised a hand to politely silence me. “Frankly, not all hospital administrators are money-fanatic idiots. If the equipment would do what they said, I can’t imagine it would be taken out of the budget. I was hoping to lose a couple hospital deputy CEOs.”

I laughed
. “No wonder Dr. Welby likes you.”

“I’m not one for mincing words
. And I can retire in a couple of years. I’d rather retire from Ocean Alley Hospital, but I know a lot of people in the region. I could get a job in a snap.”

I thanked her for her candor, and walked to my car
. Sandra had some interesting insights, but did I really know more than I did before?  Maybe not, but she had put some things in perspective for me.

I had thought Weiss’ recommendations would be strongly considered by the Board of Directors or whoever made budget decisions
. But maybe the key decision makers would see most of her recommendations as too harsh. Maybe she even made a lot of unrealistic proposals expecting that when some cuts were made they would seem reasonable. Though I couldn’t imagine why she would care. It sounded as if she went from hatchet job to hatchet job.

Perhaps the murderer didn’t know much about how the hospital worked
. Maybe the killer thought if he, or she, was on some list for job elimination that it would definitely happen. That made me think that maybe the killer was not a senior staffer. Of course, they could be very senior, and just enraged.

 

ON MONDAY I NEEDED TO visit businesses around town to cajole them to form teams for the corn toss. Or just give money. Because it is hard for me to go around town asking for money, directly or indirectly, I decided to visit Todd Everly at the hospital.

His office door was ajar, and I knocked lightly
. I heard the squeak of his chair and he looked from his office to the doorway. “Hello, Jolie.”

At least he’s always glad to see me.

“Hi, Todd. I guess I’m still minding your business.”

“No problem
. Come on in.”

I walked into his office and he cleared a couple of binders off the chair next to his desk and we both sat down
. He appeared to be trying to hide a smile.

“A couple of people have told me there was a second memo that lists specific jobs to be cut, or maybe contracted out.”

He nodded. “I only just saw it. Our fearless leader showed it to senior staff in a meeting this morning.”

At my puzzled look, he said, “Our CEO, Quentin Wharton
. He said he was tired of being asked about it, and it wasn’t something that would be considered now.”

“Really?  No more cost cutting?”

“Oh, there will be. They’re going with this amazing innovation called employee focus groups.”

I laughed
. “Amazing?”

He grew serious
. “Apparently everyone has told Wharton and Logan that there are plenty of good ideas to make this place more efficient, and the people who have most of them are the people who work here.”  He shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll get outside advice, but if nothing else we’ll all feel better if we know our ideas will get to management unfiltered.”

BOOK: Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 07 - Vague Images
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