Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

“Maybe there is another connection,” Renie put in,

her umbrage evaporated. “What if they were all involved in some charitable cause or some other activity

not directly tied to their professional careers?”

Judith tipped her head to one side, considering. “It’s

possible. But who goes around bumping off people involved in good works or other civic activities?”

Renie shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“That’s fine,” Judith said. “Think all you want. It

helps. Anyway, we’ve got two causes of death allegedly nailed down—Somosa and Fremont, both from

illegal drugs. Randall may be the same, though I’m

guessing it was something different from the other

two, who were different from each other.”

“A different source for drugs?” Renie suggested.

Judith nodded. “We weren’t here so we don’t know

SUTURE SELF

139

the circumstances of the first two deaths. But Ecstasy

and that—whatever the date-rape drug is called—provide different kinds of reactions. Street drugs are available to anybody who knows where to get them. It’s a

little trickier to put them in an IV.”

Renie had placed the leftovers—such as they

were—into one of the smaller boxes and slipped it into

the drawer of her nightstand. “How do we know it was

an IV?”

“We don’t.” Judith made another note, then glanced

at her water carafe. “Everybody who has surgery is instructed to drink plenty of fluids. Not everybody likes

water or even juice. Look at your Pepsi stash. What if

Bill had slipped a little something into it?”

“He couldn’t,” Renie replied. “The cans are foolproof.”

“I mean, more accessible beverages. Besides,” Judith

went on with a sly smile, “Bill could doctor your Pepsi

after you’d opened it.”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Renie cried. “He knows better

than to screw with my Pepsi.”

“You know what I mean.” Judith twirled the pen in

her fingers. “The problem is, we don’t know what the

three victims were drinking at the time of their deaths.

I wonder if the staff took the possibility of tampered

beverages into account.”

“Judging from the state of denial they’re in,” Renie

said, waving her current can of Pepsi at Judith, “I

doubt it. The party line seems to be that each victim

was some kind of addict.”

“Which brings us to motive,” Judith said. “Hospital

politics. Who benefits from ruining Good Cheer’s reputation?”

“Dr. Garnett comes to mind,” Renie said. “He wants

to take over from Dr. Van Boeck.”

140

Mary Daheim

Judith sighed. “Would a doctor really go to such extremes?”