Sins and Needles by Monica Ferris Read Free Book Online

Garson again. He should be home from church by now. He would call her back, he said, after consulting his calendar, to arrange a date and time for the service. She’d already left a message with the attorney, Marcia Weiner, and Dr. Phyllis Brown.
    Next on the list, “close house.” She remembered how sad and creepy it was going through her mother’s things after she had died. This would be different: Aunt Edyth was so distant there wouldn’t be that Peeping-Tom feeling. Besides…Susan tried but failed to suppress the thought.
    Aunt Edyth’s house had been built by her father early in the twentieth century. It was large and full of wonderful things. Susan allowed a guilty little thrill of anticipation to run through her. Going through that house was going to be…well…fun.
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    O N Monday morning, Jan was soothing a frightened child before Dr. Hugs came in to look at an infected thumb. Another nurse came in and said, “I’ll take over here, Jan. You have a phone call, line three. It’s your mother, and she says it’s urgent.”
    Jan’s mother rarely disturbed her at work; that she felt it necessary to add that it was urgent made Jan go immediately to an empty exam room. She touched the button beside the blinking light and said, “Yes, what’s the matter?”
    â€œJan, dear, I just got the strangest call. It’s from a Dr. Wills, who works in the medical examiner’s office. He says Mr. Huber at the funeral home notified him that—well, he says—” Her mother paused, whether to gather her strength or her vocabulary or her courage, Jan couldn’t tell.
    â€œIs this about Aunt Edyth?”
    â€œYes, of course. He says Mr. Huber was, er, arranging the body to prepare it for, for embalming, when he cut the finger of his glove—his rubber glove, presumably—on something stuck in Aunt Edyth’s head.”
    â€œSomething stuck in her head?” Jan echoed. “What does that mean? A hairpin?”
    â€œNo, not a hairpin! Something actually stuck into her head, like a needle. Stuck right into the bone.”
    Jan just sat there for a few moments.
    â€œJan? Are you there?”
    â€œYes. A needle, he said?”
    â€œ Like a needle, or a pin. And…and so, the medical examiner says they’re going to do an autopsy .”
    â€œI see.” A perfectly dreadful thought was forming in Jan’s mind, although she fought against it with all her strength.
    Susan continued. “I said, ‘But what about the funeral?’ And he said he was very sorry, but we will have to put off the funeral.”
    â€œOh, yes, of course. Oh, Mother, do you know what this means?”
    â€œWell, I’m sure there must be some innocent explanation. I mean, didn’t you say she died peacefully in her sleep?”
    â€œYes, I did.” But now Jan was remembering that staring look of amazement, and again that feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
    Her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “If someone came and tried to stick a needle into my brain, I’d struggle with all my might.”
    â€œWell, of course, so would anyone.”
    â€œSo that can’t be what happened, don’t you see? Maybe she did fall, and there was a needle in the carpet, and she didn’t realize what happened but just went to bed with a headache. That must be the explanation.”
    Jan took a breath, then let it out. “Of course, I’m sure you’re right.” Her head was starting to ache. Conversations with her mother often made her feel like that. “Will you call Pastor Garson about the delay in the funeral service?”
    â€œYes, as soon as I talk to Stewart and Jason.”
    â€œFine. I’ll tell Hugs.” Jan hung up and closed her eyes. Aunt Edyth’s death had been a surprise, though Jan also thought it a blessing, going like that, quickly, without a protracted