Read Still Life in Brunswick Stew Online

Authors: Larissa Reinhart

Tags: #Mystery, #humor, #cozy, #Humour, #Romance, #cozy mystery, #southern mystery, #humorous mystery, #mystery series

Still Life in Brunswick Stew (4 page)

BOOK: Still Life in Brunswick Stew
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“I don’t care,” I said and dragged her toward the front of the tent. “Honey, you can’t even walk. You should have told me you were feeling sick earlier. I never would have left you.”

“I didn’t feel like this earlier,” she groaned.

“Hey, can you watch our stuff?” I hollered into the koi pond tent. “My friend’s sick.”

The Koi pond guy rushed past his gurgling fountains and stared. “I’m calling 911.”

I felt rather than saw Eloise’s head shake, but I agreed with him. “There should be a medical station for heat stroke somewhere. Go get a nurse, too.”

Eloise’s trembling body began to jerk. We weren’t going to make it to the Port-a-Johns.

I turned us toward the back of the tent and pushed through a slit in the tarp. The stench of horse feces assaulted us, and I felt like puking myself. I sank with Eloise to the ground and held her wispy brown curls away from her face. Crimson blood spattered the ground along with the mess of stew. She shuddered and fell limply against me.

 

THREE

People filled all available space in the ER waiting room at Forks County Hospital, spilling into the entrance and hallway until a nurse began directing less serious patients to other hospitals. The ambulance bay flashed blue and white, noisy with the crash of collapsing gurneys, shouts, rumbling motors, and squealing brakes. I chewed my lip, waiting in line at the front desk for news about Eloise.

“Your friend is one of these Sidewinder festival patients, is that right?” said the ER receptionist.

My face puckered into a worried frown. “Do you mean all these people got sick at the cook-off?”

The blonde behind the booth sighed, returning her attention to the computer. “Looks that way. Food poisoning is common at festivals. They’ve taken Eloise Parker from the ER. Follow the arrows to the main desk in the hospital and they can help you there.”

“What can food poisoning do to someone with Crohn’s Disease?”

She scowled. “Do I look like a doctor? Next in line.”

I took the upper hand and turned away before my mouth could shoot off something I’d regret. She was overwhelmed.

A hand snagged my shoulder, turning me toward a body swathed in brown polyester.

“What are you doing here?” said Luke. “Did your Grandpa or someone get sick?”

“No, it’s Eloise. The ambulance brought her here. She vomited blood.”

Luke’s long fingers massaged my neck. “I’m sorry to hear that. A lot of Sidewinder folks got food poisoning. I was sent here to make sure things didn’t get out of hand. We heard the ER was overwhelmed. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. Eloise is the one who ate six cups of Brunswick Stew. That would make anyone sick.”

Luke frowned. “Maybe give you a bellyache, but Brunswick Stew isn’t going to make you that sick. Does everyone have the same symptoms?”

“Actually, I don’t know. I didn’t even realize there was a mass epidemic.” I shuddered. “I’ll never eat festival food again. Not after seeing what happened to Eloise.”

“I’ll check into it.” He kissed my forehead. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Things have calmed down now that the nurses have triaged the new patients. I’ll walk you to Eloise’s room. How was the festival other than the food poisoning? Did you sell any of your stuff?”

“No,” I scowled. “I hate working festivals. Next time I’m going to paint some rocks. I’ll probably make more money.”

We entered the hallway leading from the ER into the main part of the hospital. I wanted to reach for his hand, but knew he’d feel odd to hold hands in public while wearing his uniform.

“Do you need help watching the booth?” Luke asked. “I’m on call here, but I’ve got buddies near Sidewinder that would help you.”

“Naw. Todd is doing it for me.”

Luke halted, causing me to stumble. “Todd McIntosh?”

“Do we know another Todd? I called him before I left for the hospital.” I had sort of, but not quite, married Todd McIntosh once. However, we remained good friends. As loyal as a Labrador, Todd could be called on for help in situations where my own siblings slacked. If I needed help drinking beer, Casey and Cody would be at my side. Rushing to an out of town festival to sit in record-breaking heat to sell my paintings? Not so much. Therefore, I had dialed Todd.

“Todd’s not working?” said Luke.

“It’s Saturday,” I answered. Luke must be working too hard if he couldn’t remember the day. “Todd drives a delivery truck for a living. He’ll do a good job packing up my stuff and will bring it to my house.”

“Right.” Luke drew out the word and changed the subject. “Let’s go see about your friend.”

We continued our trudge toward the front desk. The receptionist then directed us to another waiting area on the third floor where Eloise’s family had congregated.

June Parker, Eloise’s mother, spotted me. She waved me over, pulled me into her soft, considerable body, and hugged the tears right out of my eyes.

“I know you were with Eloise when it happened,” she cried. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’m glad she was with a friend in her final moments.”

I froze within her arms.

“Oh, baby,” Miss June’s body shook as she squeezed me tighter. “She didn’t make it.”

“What? How can that be?” Miss June released me suddenly, and I backed into Luke. I felt his hands grip my shoulders, holding me steady.

Eloise’s sister, Mary Jane, slipped in next to Miss June and circled an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “She arrived unconscious and passed a little while ago. The doctors couldn’t do anything.”

“I’m so sorry.” Tears spilled down my cheeks. “I can’t believe this. She was having a good time earlier, except for the blasted heat.”

“She never liked to tell us when her Crohn’s was acting up,” said Miss June sadly.

“But, I don’t think it was bothering her earlier,” I stopped my words at a pinch to my shoulders. I looked up at Luke. He twitched his head in a quick shake. His somber eyes held a warning.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Luke said. “How can we help?”

“I don’t know.” Miss June stared at the floor. “I just don’t know. Someone from the hospital is coming to talk to us.”

Mr. Parker lumbered into the room. Breathing hard, the heavyset man took his place next to his wife, but fixed his bloodshot eyes on Luke. “Were you at the festival, Deputy?”

Luke slipped a hand off my shoulder to shake Mr. Parker’s. “Earlier, but not when Eloise took ill. I arrived at the hospital when we heard about the backup in the ER. I found Cherry there.”

“I heard a lot of people got sick at the cook-off, son.” Mr. Parker’s face reddened. “Is someone looking into that?”

“I’ve been assigned to other duties, so I can’t tell you if we’re investigating the festival. I’m sure the county health inspector has been notified, though.”

“Son, my daughter is dead,” Mr. Parker said.

Miss June moaned.

Mr. Parker took her hand. “The ER doctor says it must be a complication with her Crohn’s. This may be a coincidence, but I find it highly strange all these people are sick, but my daughter dies. I’m asking for an autopsy.”

“No, Dan.” Fresh tears wetted June’s cheeks.

“Hush, June. It’s for the best.”

I could feel Luke tensing.

“Yes, sir,” Luke said. “I’ll tell the sheriff.”

“You do that, son.” Mr. Parker pointed a finger at us. “I want justice served. If someone gave her food bad enough to kill her, they need to be punished.”

I moved forward to hug Miss June again. “We’ll leave you with your family. I’ll come see you soon.”

Luke and I shuffled out of the waiting room toward the elevators. Just as the door swooshed open, I heard Mary Jane call my name. I left Luke behind and hurried to meet her.

She darted a look down the hall at Luke before focusing on me. “You heard what my daddy said, Cherry?”

“About the autopsy?” I lowered my voice. “That sounds reasonable to me.”

“Daddy wants to know what happened.” Mary Jane’s ample cheeks shook with anger. “It doesn’t sound like your deputy is too interested in finding that out.”

“Luke’s just doing his job. He’s got a better poker face than anyone I know. If the sheriff’s office talked about investigating, he’d never reveal it until given word that he can.”

“Eloise dying ain’t right,” she whispered. “You were about to say so yourself when your deputy stopped you.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. “What are you saying, Mary Jane?”

“You know how it is with people like us. We’re not important, and we can’t afford lawyers. If the sheriff’s office says it’s just a bad case of food poisoning, nobody will check into her death. I don’t care if Eloise did have Crohn’s. They’re saying it was a complication of her disease. That’s a lot of bull. We’ve seen her through some bad times and there’s been no warning for an attack like this.”

“The autopsy is a good place to start,” I said. “I don’t know what else you can do. You think the hospital messed up?”

“You know the sheriff. You’re dating a deputy. You know how stuff works.”

“That doesn’t mean they listen to me,” I said.

“You need to try.” Heavy tears coursed down Mary Jane’s face. “For Daddy’s sake. I want him to know someone is looking into Eloise’s death.”

“I love your family. Of course I’ll do what I can.” My skin felt hot and a golf ball-sized knot lodged in my throat.

“I know you will. You talk to your Uncle Will and get your deputy to listen.” Mary Jane wiped her face with her hands. “I better get back to Momma and Daddy.”

I walked back down the hallway after she left. We stepped inside the elevator without a wait, and the heavy doors slid shut, giving us a moment of privacy.

“Are you going to tell Uncle Will what Mr. Parker said?” I peered at him through watery eyes.

“Of course,” Luke said. “But it’s more of a matter for the health inspector to start an investigation into bad festival food. An autopsy for a food poisoning case sounds like a waste of tax payer money to me.”

“Mr. Parker’s right.” I gulped through a sob. “Mary Jane thinks so, too. She knew you guys wouldn’t care.”

“Hey,” Luke drew an arm around me. “I’m sorry about your friend, but you’re acting like someone deliberately killed her.”

“I was with her all day.” I pushed out of his embrace. “She was fine when the festival started. She ate a ton of Brunswick Stew and then got sick. I’m sure the autopsy will prove it wasn’t her Crohn’s.”

“Maybe her disease couldn’t allow her body to handle the food poisoning,” Luke said. “I’ll give you that. Just don’t start making trouble about this. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy anyway.”

“You need to hightail it over to Sidewinder and confiscate that stew.” Anger began licking away my sadness, making me feel better.

“I’m sure once word got out about all the people puking in the ER, the health inspector shut down the booths. You should go home and relax. It’s been a rough day.”

“I don’t want to relax.” I said, setting my jaw.

“You don’t know how to relax. There’s a difference. You’re letting yourself get all worked up,” Luke said.

“My friend just died. How am I supposed to relax?”

“Maybe relax isn’t the right word. You need to calm down. I’ll come over and sit with you tonight when I get off.”

“Tonight I was going to go to the Viper with Eloise.” I hiccupped and a fresh cascade of tears flowed down my cheeks. “I guess I’ll go to the farm. Do you want to meet me there?”

“How about I come over after you get home?” He brushed his thumb across my wet cheeks. “There’s no privacy at the farm with your Grandpa and siblings questioning me on police business.”

“Of course not,” I said, “If I want privacy, I stay at home. If I want to eat, I go to the farm.”

His eye twitched. I noticed that particular tremor had been making repeat appearances.

“I’ll be over later.” He pulled me into a rough hug. “I’m really sorry about your friend. It’s okay to feel sad, hon’. Let yourself have a good cry tonight. I’ll be there with tissues. You don’t have to be tough all the time.”

I nestled into his chest, feeling the comforting strength of his embrace and thought about not acting tough all the time. Could a person just go home and cry? Would that make me feel better about losing Eloise?

The problem, as I saw it, was crying never did me any good. Our family had a lot of good reasons for crying which was maybe why none of us did it much. The Tuckers and Ballards (my Grandpa’s name) were better at getting mad. It suited us even more to get even. Tissues were for colds.

And according to my Grandpa only sissies got colds.

“Don’t forget to talk to Uncle Will about Eloise,” I said after pushing out of Luke’s arms.

“Go home and get some rest.” Luke turned to leave, but stopped, swiveled back, and flicked me with a sharp look. “I’m sorry about Eloise, but don’t interfere with my job.”

I watched him stride away.

If he wasn’t going to go down to Sidewinder to check into that stew, I would.

 

BOOK: Still Life in Brunswick Stew
13.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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