Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) Read Free Page B

“Yes. Six forty-five.”
    “Do you always come to work this early?” I asked.
    “Sometimes.” She shrugged. She bit her lip and looked off in the distance. I noticed her lack of eye contact.
    “What do you mean by sometimes?” I wanted a clear answer.
    “Doc never gives me a set time to be here. Appointments start around nine, but sometimes people are here earlier.”
    “What’s your morning routine?” I asked her.
    “Well, I come in and grab a cup of coffee, take a look at the appointment book, and pull their files. I put the files in Doc’s office, so they’re there when he’s ready.” Her voice faded.
    “What does Doc usually do while you are getting ready for the appointments?” I continued to write everything she was telling me.
    “He drinks his coffee and goes through the files as I give them to him. But sometimes patients just show up like we’re one of those Take Care Clinics or something.” She shook her head. “And Doc never turns anyone away. Turned,” she corrected her choice of words in a hushed whisper.
    “Are the walk-ins added to the appointment book?” I asked, noting how this could be a crucial lead in the investigation.
    “Sometimes I put them in, sometimes I don’t,” she said. “Depends on if they want to use insurance or some other type of payment.”
    “Like?” I coaxed her to continue.
    “Like pie, cookies.” She tilted her head and when she saw I wasn’t following, she said in a whisper, “Sometimes the Sweet Adelines pay him in fresh grown veggies, bread, and sweets.”
    Inwardly I groaned at the word Toots seemed to love: “sometimes,” but my mouth watered when she mentioned the Sweet Adelines. The group of women were not only barbershop singers who performed around Cottonwood, they also had a garden club. If you were lucky enough, and if they really liked you, your pantry was stocked full of fresh or canned vegetables all year round.
    “Can you please give the appointment book to Officer Vincent?” I asked. At this point I was going to have to work with what I was given, and right now that didn’t seem like much.
    “What was the cleaning process around here?” If Doc was so particular about shoes, he had to be even more particular about the rest of the instruments.
    “He was OCD about the place.” She ripped another piece of toilet paper off the roll and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Every time a patient left, I had to wipe down everything with Clorox.”
    “Every day? Every night?” I asked.
    Toots nodded.
    “You can go now, but I want you to stop by the station this afternoon to give a formal statement to Wyatt.” With a little time between now and then, I hoped she’d remember some key information she’d forgotten in her state of shock.
    My eyes slid over to Wyatt. “I’m going to see if we can get an emergency town council meeting so we can get you on as deputy until the fall election.”
    He nodded and tugged on the edges of his waistband. I was sure this made him happy, since I heard through the rumor mill that he was the one who wanted to run against me. After all, he was familiar with the job since the jailer’s office and sheriff’s office were all in one room in the back of Cowboy’s Catfish Restaurant.
    When a new sheriff was elected, they normally brought in their own people. Not me. I kept the deputy who was here under my Poppa when he was sheriff of Cottonwood. If Leonard was good enough for Poppa, he was certainly good enough for me. Plus, Leonard had been interim sheriff between Poppa’s death and the election and he had no intentions of running. He wanted to finish out his two years and retire. I didn’t blame him.
    No sense in taking time to train someone new. I lived by the motto, “If it’s not broke, don’t try to fix it.” Now that I needed a deputy, I was more than happy to appoint Wyatt to the job.
    “I’ve got all the files.” Finn held up a stack of yellow files.
    I glanced around the room through hazy