Sleuthing at Sweet Springs (The Sleuth Sisters Mysteries Book 4) by Maggie Pill Read Free Book Online

give you a retainer.” Her blue eyes fixed firmly on me. “It won’t take more than a few hours of your time. Will you do it? Please?”
    “I don’t want to take your money.”
    Suddenly the blue eyes snapped, and the sweet expression hardened to steel. “Young woman. I’m not a charity case, and I’m not stupid. I have a PhD in microbiology, and until we retired up here, I was a member of the science department at Michigan State University.” After a pause she said, “Full professor.”
    “Oh.”
    Her eyes softened again. “I’m not telling you this to brag. I just want you to know I’m not some crazy old woman.” She put her hands in her lap. “I can afford your services, and I need to know if Gail is working against me.” Tears choked her voice as she said the last words.
    “All right,” I said. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.” I glanced out into the hallway, assuring privacy for the moment. “Tell me what you recall about coming here.”
    “I got sick,” Clara replied. “I don’t remember much about it, to be honest. Gail had been coming out to visit every weekend. She’d hang around for an hour or so, arguing I should sell and move into town. Last week when she came, I wasn’t making sense. She asked me things like who is the President and what month is it, and I couldn’t answer correctly.” Clara paused. “At least that’s what she told the doctor.”
    “You think she lied?”
    Clara shrugged delicately. “There was something wrong, I admit that. I felt disoriented and confused. I saw things that weren’t there, even smelled things that weren’t.” She sounded irritated with herself. “Anyway, Gail loaded me into her car and took me to my doctor’s office. By the time he saw me, I guess I was pretty bad off. Next thing I knew, I was stuck in here.” She tried to be calm, but her anger showed. “They’re good to me. I don’t want you to think I’m complaining about the facility, but I should be at home. I’ve got things to do before winter comes.”
    “What things?”
    “Well, about this time each year I hook up the heat lamps for my girls,” she replied. “Chickens can stand a lot of cold, but just like people, they’d rather be warm than not. Then there’s a man who brings me firewood. He dumps it in the yard and I stack it myself, in a rack close to the house where I can get at it no matter how much snow we get.”
    “You stack your own firewood?” Clara weighed ninety-eight pounds, if that.
    She smiled. “It takes longer than it used to, but yes. I work for an hour or so at a time until it’s all where I want it.” Her smile faded. “If I don’t move that wood before it snows, it’ll be a mess to get at it all winter.”
    Despite my doubts, ideas were forming. “Any more things you need to get done?”
    Clara chuckled. “A dozen at least. It’s work running a place all by myself, but I like it. Keeps me young.”
    That was true. If not for an ankle-bracelet that would sound a warning to the staff if she tried to leave the facility, Clara looked perfectly competent and years younger than her age, which had to be mid-eighties. Promising to return with a decision as to whether we’d take her case, I headed for the exit.
    Twenty feet down the hall, I was reconsidering my promise. Had I listened with my heart instead of my head? I tried to imagine how Barb would have reacted to Clara’s story. With hard questions, no doubt. “How did your niece manage to convince your doctor you need full-time care, Mrs. Knight?” or “Why didn’t you demand a second opinion?” There had to be ways to prove yourself competent, even if a relative claimed otherwise.
    Brandy, a CNA I knew well, was at the front desk, filling in a chart. “Hey,” I said, “can you tell me why Clara Knight is here?”
    It was clearly a violation of HIPAA’s privacy regulations, but the girls at the Meadows knew me enough to understand I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have