Crowned and Moldering

Lizzie gri

“I kind of thought so at the time,” I said. “But, wow. Things looked pretty hot and . . . hmm.” I glanced at the kids and tried to find a subtle way to say what I was thinking. “They looked like they might’ve been together before.”

“I know,” Lizzie murmured. “But she insisted they hadn’t.”

I thought about it and finally admitted, “I’m worried about her.”

“Why? She looks so happy.”

“I don’t want him to hurt her.”

Lizzie frowned. “Gus is a lot younger than her. And he does have a reputation with the ladies.”

Marisa snickered. “You mean he’s a horn dog.”

Lizzie scowled. “Marisa!”

Her daughter shrugged, and Taz giggled. It was Lizzie’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You know I think Gus is wonderful,” I said. “But Emily is sort of fragile, don’t you think?”

“She looks fragile,” Hal said, “but she’s probably a lot stronger than you give her credit for.”

“I hope so.”

“OMG, Mom!” Marisa cried, then whispered dramatically, “It’s MacIntyre Sullivan!”

I turned in time to see Mac and Callie walk inside and glance around. Mac waved when he saw us and said something to Callie. Her eyes lit up and she rushed over to the booth, while he stayed up front and spoke to the hostess.

“Hi, Sha

“Callie,” I said, “these are my friends Lizzie and Hal and Taz and Marisa.”

There was a buzz of greetings back and forth until Mac finally joined Callie and more cheeriness was exchanged. Marisa was strangely silent and seemed in awe of the older girl.

“We’ve got a table right over here,” Mac said to Callie.

“Okay. It was really nice meeting you all.” Callie smiled at everyone and then homed in on Lizzie’s daughter. “Marisa, I love your bike shirt. If you want, maybe after breakfast we can talk some more.”

Marisa’s eyes widened and her head bobbed in agreement. “Okay, yeah.”

“Cool,” Callie said, and walked away with her uncle.

Lizzie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as she turned toward me. “That was so sweet of her. She is remarkable.”

“She really is,” I said, glancing fondly at Callie’s back.

*   *   *

Late that afternoon, I was exhausted but happy after all of the riding and laughing and eating. I sat on the couch, watching an old movie with Tiger and Robbie, and started to doze off. A loud knocking on the back door startled me awake.

I hurried into the kitchen and saw through the window that it was Mac, and I opened the door with a smile. “Hi, what’s up?”

But he wasn’t smiling. “Hey, Irish.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Callie? Come in.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “Talk to me.”

“It’s Cliff Hogarth,” he said somberly, taking my hand in his. “Somebody walked into his hospital room an hour ago and killed him.”

My phone rang before I could say a word and I ran to answer it. Mac followed me.

I stared at him, stu

“You’ll never guess,” Lizzie said.

“Yes, I will,” I said, feeling numb. “Cliff Hogarth is dead.”

*   *   *

I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think I would ever be warm again despite the extra blanket I’d thrown over me and the socks I wore and the long knitted scarf wrapped around my neck. My cat was cuddled up beside me and Robbie slept at the foot of the bed, and I was still shivering. I couldn’t help it, after hearing the details of Cliff’s death.

Earlier that night, after we got the ugly news, Mac and Callie had stayed for di

Finally, Mac called Eric directly. The chief grudgingly confided certain details Lizzie and Hal hadn’t heard over the police sca

“Someone took advantage of a quiet Sunday night at the hospital,” Mac said, after he hung up from talking to Eric. “They had a bare-bones staff on duty, and I guess it was easy for the killer to slip u

“What did they do?”

Mac took a quick bite of mashed potatoes before answering. “The investigators think the guy tampered with his IV tubing.”

“You mean they disco

“No, they injected another substance into it.”

I grimaced. “Do they know what it was?”

“They’re not willing to say until they run more tests, but I’m pretty sure they’ll find some type of liquid rat poison or cyanide.”

I cringed at the word cyanide. It sounded like something out of the Cold War. “Where would anyone ever find cyanide?”

He shrugged. “Rat poison. Pretty common to find some brands that contain cyanide.”

“So why do you think it’s cyanide?”

“I recognize the symptoms.”

“Of cyanide poisoning?” But of course Mac would know the symptoms. He was always researching new and exciting ways to kill people.

“Yeah,” he said. “The nurse thought Hogarth was suffocating, so she tried to clear his air passage. But it was no use. His entire body was shutting down, one system at a time. He was dead within minutes.”

*   *   *

By Monday morning, the news of Cliff Hogarth’s murder was on everyone’s mind. The entire town seemed to be holding its collective breath, worried sick that someone else might die. I was pretty sure the killer had specifically targeted Cliff and didn’t plan to go on a killing spree, but after tossing and turning all night, I wasn’t feeling strong enough to bet money on it.

I had hated Cliff Hogarth and I’d wanted him to go away, but I couldn’t ever wish such a horrible death on him. And to have it occur in a hospital? A place where people were meant to feel safe? It was doubly upsetting.

Mac, of course, was thriving on all the grisly news. I forgave him his buoyant joy, though, because he’d never met Cliff or any of the other players, for that matter. And I had a feeling he just might win a Pulitzer for the article he was writing, given all the macabre details he’d been able to gather from this gruesome case.

Eric’s reaction was the complete opposite of Mac’s, naturally. He was frustrated and angry that another person had been killed on what he considered his watch. He redoubled his team’s efforts to scour the evidence and find a co

Work always helped change my mood, so I attacked it with gusto. I was digging up the last remnants of asphalt around the edges of the old parking lot when Ms. Barney arrived at school. She greeted everyone on the crew and then pulled me aside to talk.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I nodded, then admitted, “I’m a little shaken up.”

“I thought you might be,” Ms. Barney said, and that was when I remembered that she had been subjected to Cliff’s i

“I guess it’s natural that everyone is looking over their shoulders,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure Cliff was the only target. He made a lot of enemies in a very short time.”

She sighed. “I know you weren’t friends with him, but the news was still so shocking.”

As I walked with her across campus, we shared what little we each knew about Cliff’s death. She had heard the same basic story that Eric had told Mac. Apparently Cliff’s killer had taken advantage of a slow afternoon at the hospital with not many staff members on duty. Later that night, someone had reported a pair of scrubs missing from the locker room in a size that would fit a normal-sized male, whatever that meant. There were no actual suspects so far, but having been on the receiving end of Cliff Hogarth’s vitriol, I figured there were probably plenty of folks who were not mourning his loss.