The nurse pivoted on the balls of her feet and stormed back to Zoe. Lowering her voice, Dorian said, “I nearly lost my job the last time I helped you.”
“Why?”
She gave Zoe a look.
“Because I insisted on taking over the autopsy?” Zoe asked.
Dorian didn’t reply. Didn’t have to. The icy scowl she gave Zoe said it all.
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
Dorian waved her off, spun, and strode back into the nurses’ station.
Zoe looked around, hoping to see a familiar and preferably friendly face. Recognizing no one, she followed Dorian.
Echoes of “Excuse me, you can’t be in here, this is for authorized personnel only” followed Zoe and turned Dorian back around.
“You really are determined to get me fired, aren’t you?”
Zoe ignored the other staff members surrounding her, although she heard one of them mention calling for security. “I need two minutes of your time. You could help catch a killer.” She spoke loud enough for the rallying troops to hear. It worked. No one moved closer or attempted to toss her out.
Dorian’s eyes shifted, taking in their audience. “Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “Come with me.”
Zoe hoped the smile she shot at the gathered staff would put them at ease. She followed Dorian out of the station and into a staff breakroom.
The nurse folded her arms. “What’s this about catching a killer?”
“Franklin didn’t die from any negligent action by the hospital. He was murdered.”
“How?”
Zoe hesitated before asking, “Do you know anything about an experimental oral insulin?”
Dorian’s expression shifted from guarded to curious. “I’ve heard speculations about something being in the testing phase.”
“Any of your patients on it?”
“No. I don’t think it’s available yet. Why?”
“Someone poisoned Franklin with insulin taken orally.”
Dorian stiffened but didn’t reply.
“Do you remember his wife? Loretta?”
“You mean the bitch with the black hair?”
“That’s the one.”
“I think she had more to do with the administrator reaming me out than you did. She really did not want an autopsy.”
Not if she was the reason he was dead. “Did you happen to notice whether she was here that morning?”
Dorian’s brow creased in thought. “She was here after he died.”
“What about before?”
Dorian gazed into space. “Now that I think about it, yes. She came in to visit him right after his breakfast.”
“Did she bring any food with her?”
“Not that I noticed, but we were pretty busy.” Dorian’s eyes widened. “You think she put insulin in his food?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. Did anyone else go in his room?”
She shook her head slowly. “Like I said. We were busy. I didn’t notice anyone but hospital personnel around his room, but I can’t be sure.”
There was a knock at the door before it swung open. A stern-looking man in a uniform filled the doorway, his gaze settling on Zoe, although his words were directed at Dorian. “Is everything okay in here, D?”
“Yes, we’re fine, Sam,” she replied.
“I was just leaving.” Zoe moved toward the security guard. She stopped to face Dorian. “Thank you. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
“I will. Sorry I gave you a rough time.”
“And I’m sorry I got you in trouble.” Zoe eyed the man who still blocked the entire doorway. “Both last week and today.”
Thirty
Pete stepped off the hospital elevator and rounded the corner toward Abby’s room. Baronick and Zoe stood outside her door, involved in a heated debate. Zoe spotted him, said something to the detective, and both waited for him to approach.
Neither showed signs of grief nor worry, so Pete assumed Abby was still okay. “What’s going on?”
“Did you find the iced tea?” Zoe asked.
“I just dropped what was left of it off at the lab.” He glanced through the door where Abby watched them and appeared ready to climb out of bed. Seth stood halfway between her and them, as if unsure of his current duties—keep guard over her or join the discussion of the case. “Let’s talk inside.”
Once they’d funneled into Abby’s room, Zoe said, “I have news.”
Pete gave her a nod. “Go.”
She told them about the conversation she’d had with the nurse and about Loretta’s visit with Franklin before he died. Looking at Baronick, Zoe asked, “What about Langley’s?”
“Nothing definite. A couple of the saleswomen recognized Loretta’s photo and said she’d been in the store but couldn’t confirm Loretta was there last Monday. Two other employees, who worked that evening, are off today. The manager said she’d have them call me.”
Pete glowered at him. “You should’ve gotten their home addresses.”
“I did,” Baronick said. “They’re not home. I also got their phone numbers and left messages on both voicemails.”
“What about Gina?” Zoe asked. “How long had she been sick?”
“According to the woman who was there on Monday, she’d been fine until after her afternoon break.”
“Did she eat or drink anything during her break?”
“I didn’t ask. Sorry.”
Zoe gave an exasperated growl. “I should’ve gone with you.”
“I’ll ask the other two women when I reach them,” Baronick said.
“When you do, ask who gave her the food. And if anyone else was around her at the time.”
“Like Loretta Marshall?” Baronick said.
“Exactly. Have you learned anything yet about whether it’s her employer that’s developing the new form of insulin?” Zoe asked.
“Still waiting to hear.”
She glanced at Pete.
He was still rolling these latest developments around in his mind, trying to decide if they confirmed or conflicted with his suspicions. “Anything else?” he asked.
“I talked to Gina Wagner’s mother.” Zoe exchanged a look with Baronick. “She says her daughter never believed Dustin killed his wife.”
“We knew that,” the detective said. “Gina’s testimony’s in the trial transcripts.”
“But did you know Dustin couldn’t handle a gun?”
“So she claims,” Pete said. When everyone else in the room looked at him, he continued. “Gina Wagner still loved the guy, even after she learned he was married. She broke off the affair but could never believe he was guilty of murder.”
“No one wants to believe their judgment is that bad,” Abby said. “To not only learn the guy had been lying about being married, but to think you could
