“Liv,” she corrected, turning to face the doctor. He was tall and skinny, with crazy hair and thick glasses. It was a bit strange at first, but his manner was frank and Liv appreciated that.
“So I wanted to talk to you about the test results we’ve got,” he said, pulling a computer-on-wheels behind him and opening their charting program.
Liv braced herself.
“You mentioned in the ER she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's?” the doctor looked at her. Then he looked chagrined, and cut her off before she could speak. “I’m Dr Oliver, please call me Aaron.”
“Yes, she brought home the paperwork a few months ago. I moved back here a month or so ago to help take care of her.” Liv frowned slightly. “She was getting more disoriented on the phone, and she wasn’t really able to take care of herself.”
Aaron the doctor took a deep breath, and there was something in his eyes that Liv couldn’t read and wasn’t sure she wanted to. “She doesn’t have Alzheimers.”
“What?” Liv stared at him as if he had started speaking Greek.
“I don’t know who she went to or if the results were botched, or if it was just too hard to find at that moment, but she has a brain tumor.”
“Is that better or worse?” Liv balked.
“Better,” Dr Oliver said firmly. “It’s operable, based on the location. And she’s in generally good health for a woman her age.”
“So what happened?” Liv looked at him, bewildered.
“We think the tumor put too much pressure on a nerve and caused her to faint,” he said. “It happens occasionally with brain tumors.”
“Do you think she’ll recover?” Liv turned to look at her Gram on the bed. A brain tumor? She never would have guessed.
“She’s a strong old lady,” he said amiably. “Most elderly patients we see who fall like that often end up with wounds. She has some bruising, but that’s it. Nothing visible.”
“She’s going to get better,” Liv repeated, turning to the doctor as if she was waiting for him to rebuke her words.
“Yes.” Dr Oliver smiled. “We’re getting her in for surgery tomorrow. She’ll probably stay here for a week or two, get physical therapy to help make sure she maintains her motor movements, and probably speech or occupational therapy. But she should be able to go home and be more able to live on her own.”
“I don’t know what to say.” And Liv didn’t, not really.
“Go home and get a good night’s sleep,” Dr Oliver recommended. “I’m guessing you want to be here for her surgery tomorrow, and that’ll be more difficult when you haven’t slept.”
Liv smiled faintly at him. “Thanks,” she said softly.
He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “If you have any questions, please have the nurse call me.” Then he was out the door, onto his next patient and taking care of the rest of the ward.
Liv turned to Gram, the excitement bubbling up underneath her skin. Still, there was a cautious part of her that would wait for the improvement until she could see it. “Did you hear that, Gram?” Liv whisper-shouted. “You’re going to be okay! You’re going to be okay.”
Tuesday 25th October; 3pm
Liv had picked up Mocha from River and was walking her to help get some of the jitters out. If Mocha wasn’t walked, she liked to eat things, like books and DVDs. Liv had learned that the hard way.
Without meaning to, she found herself wandering down the street to Cairo’s house. It stood still and alone, the police tape a distant memory. Sometime soon the house would be cleaned up, and maybe sold or demolished. The town was small enough that it was unlikely anyone would want to buy a house where a murder had been committed.
But stranger things had happened.
Liv stood at the top of the driveway, studying Cairo’s house and remembering the time she and Ryan had gotten trapped there. That made her feel a bit giddy. She had talked to Ryan earlier, told her the good news. Ryan was going to come by later so they could celebrate.
A small sound drew her attention. Through the dim lights, she could see the faint outline of a person in the house.
A shiver ran down her spine, goosebumps prickling on her skin. Who was that? It reminded her way too much of the time they had gotten stuck there, the mystery person.
“It’s just her family,” Liv told herself, but she gripped Mocha’s leash tighter. That made the most logical sense, but if she was certain it was family —
Why did she feel so afraid?
24
Tuesday 25th October; 3pm
Ryan stared at the image with barely-concealed frustration. Steven had an alibi for Charles’s murder. Whether or not he killed Cairo, he at least hadn’t killed Charles.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ryan muttered to herself, her hands on her hips. First had been Liv’s call that her Gram had a brain tumor, then Steven’s lawyer (the lovely Peter Harrington) had showed up with documentation that Steven had been ways out of town when the second murder had happened. It didn’t match what Steven had said, which made it even worse.
The Chief was mad, and so was Dane. Their case was falling apart, and they were no closer to finding out who had killed them than they had been before.
“What if there’s two killers?” Dane threw out.
“There could be,” Ryan allowed. “But that starts getting convoluted.”
“We should look into Charles’s alibi for Cairo’s murder.” Dane scowled.
Ryan started flipping through the files. “He had an alibi. The photo taken with his sister that was being held with his lawyer.”
“Of course he did.” Dane rolled his eyes.
“Did we ever find that marriage certificate?” Ryan looked at Dane.
“Yup.” Dane tossed her the piece of paper. “Officially married, two weeks before her death.”
“Huh.” Ryan looked at the paper. It looked all official and everything. She wasn’t certain what to think about it.
“All this to run away from someone.” Dane shook his head.
Ryan flipped through the
