Cadbury Creme Murder Read Free Page A

the ICU at Hillside
Regional and as a companion with Caring Hearts, Hillside’s hospice
organization. 
     
    She
was there when people’s lives hung in the balance, Heather thought.  Why would
anyone have wanted to put an end to hers?

Chapter 3
     
    Heather
circled the parking lot of Hillside Regional Hospital twice in her car before
finally pulling into a space that was farther away than she had hoped for.  She
knew walking was supposed to be good for you, but how much good could it do you
to walk for a mere minute?  She would much prefer to park closer to the door
and save her exercising for another time.  Like, never.
     
    An
elderly lady wearing a pale blue scrub-type jacket with a round patch on the
shoulder that said Volunteer looked up as Heather approached the desk.  Her
name tag read Phyllis.  “May I help you?” she asked.
     
    “Is
the volunteer coordinator in?” Heather asked.
    “She’s
out to lunch.  Is there some way I could help you?”
     
    “Rats. 
I had wanted to talk to you about one of your volunteers.  Verna Dixon.”
     
    Phyllis’
mouth drooped, and her eyes softened.  “Verna doesn’t volunteer with us
anymore, unfortunately,” she said.  “Verna passed away recently.”
     
    “I
know,” Heather said somberly.  “That’s what I wanted to talk to the volunteer
coordinator about.”
     
    “Like
I said, she’s out to lunch.  But if you need to talk to somebody about Verna,
you might try the nurses in ICU.  That’s where Verna worked.  I imagine they
know her pretty well up there.”
     
    “Thank
you, I’ll try that,” she said.  “Do I just take those elevators right there?”
    “Third
floor, and follow the signs for ICU,” Phyllis said, pointing.
     
    “Thank
you.”  She crossed the lobby to the elevators and pushed the button. 
     
    As
she waited for the doors to open, a man in business casual clothes, with a
hospital badge clipped to his shirt pocket, came to stand next to her.  He
leaned in front of her and pushed the elevator button again.  When the doors
opened, he gestured to Heather to precede him inside, then darted inside
himself and pushed the 5 button.  “What floor?” he asked.
     
    “Three.”
     
    He
pushed the 3 button, then stood with his hands jammed into his pockets,
shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  What was he in such a hurry
about? Heather wondered as the doors slid open on the third floor.
     
    Right
in front of her were arrows pointing both left and right to various
destinations.  Following the arrows to ICU, she turned right, then left, then
left again before coming up short at a set of double doors.  Please ring for
admittance, read the sign next to a red button.
     
    Heather
pushed the button and waited.  In a few seconds, a voice came over the
intercom.  “May I help you?”
     
    “I
was sent to speak to the ICU nurses about one of your volunteers,” she said. 
“Verna Dixon.”
     
    “Come
through the doors and straight back.  Nurses’ station is on your right.”
     
    Heather
heard a faint metallic click, and pushed against one of the doors.  It opened,
and she followed the tile floor past tiny, glass-fronted ICU rooms until she
came to the nurses’ station.  One nurse, whose blond hair was pulled into a
twist and clipped against her head by a barrette, looked up from her computer
station.  “May I help you?”
     
    “I’m
Heather Janke.  I was sent to talk to the ICU nurses about Verna Dixon,” she
repeated.
     
    “That
was me you talked to a minute ago.  Who sent you?  And how can I help you?”
     
    “The
lady at the reception desk downstairs sent me.  I assume you know about…”
     
    “Yes,
I know Verna passed,” the nurse, whose name tag read Kristen, said.  “Such a
shame.  She was an amazing volunteer.”
     
    “It
is a shame,” Heather said.  “And I’ve been asked to look into her death by a
friend of her family.  I know she volunteered here at Hillside