Authors: Sarah J. Bradley
“The one?”
“Here, sit down. They said they’d call when he was…when he could have visitors.” Benny led her to the chairs. “See, I’ve wondered for a long time what was different about him lately. He seemed happy. He hasn’t been happy since Sally died.”
Sally? Who’s Sally?
“I’ll explain later,” Benny patted her hand. “That’s the longer version of the story, and we don’t have time for it. You must be the one, though, that’s made him happy.”
“I guess. But we…we broke up yesterday.”
Benny nodded. “And that would explain Chance’s. It’s been a long time since he went on a bender. I’ve seen him look rough, but nothing like this morning.” Benny paled at the memory. “Why did you guys break up, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Izzy shook her head. “I was willing to believe something horrible about him.”
“A lot of people make that mistake, Miss Izzy. Outside of being a complete party animal when he’s drinking, he’s a really decent guy.” Benny’s eyes welled.
A nurse walked up to Izzy. Her name tag read Grace Callen. “You’re Mr. Murray’s emergency contact?”
“Yes. Can I see him now?”
Grace shook her head. “Let’s just say that in cases like this, it’s best if you wait until he’s a bit more presentable. How are you related to Mr. Murray?”
If I’m not family they won’t let me in.
“I’m his sister.” She ignored Benny’s surprised expression.
Grace nodded. “The doctor has some questions, family history, that sort of thing.”
Why did I say I was family? I don’t know anything about his family history.
Another nurse stuck her head out of the big doors. “Is this Mr. Murray’s family?”
“Yes.” Grace didn’t look up from her chart.
“She can come in.”
Izzy followed Grace through the heavy automatic doors and down the hall to yet another closed door. Grace nodded to the door, which Izzy pushed open slowly, unable to completely absorb the scene in front of her. Quinn lay motionless in a bed, machines beeping in an ominous circle around him. A breathing tube pumped air into his lungs.
“You’re his sister?” A doctor stood behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Yes…I’m…Izzy Marks.”
“I’m Dr. Blanche Passavant.” The doctor pulled the mask off her face. “I couldn’t care less who you are to him, if you can help me. You were his only emergency contact.”
Izzy exhaled. “What’s wrong with him?”
The woman checked the bank of monitors over Quinn’s head. “I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that, Miss Marks.”
“I don’t…I haven’t seen him since…I talked to him yesterday morning. I don’t know what he’s done since then.”
“From what Mr. Jensen told us, and from what we saw when they brought him in, my initial diagnosis was alcohol poisoning.”
“He doesn’t drink.”
“He did last night.” Dr. Passavant studied her closely. “He presents with all the classic symptoms: Vomiting, seizures, slowed breathing, cold skin. Mr. Jensen said he seemed very confused about his recent history. Something about a Sally?”
“There’s a lot of confusion about that, Doctor.”
“Even so, everything fits in with alcohol poisoning. Except for one thing.”
“Which is?”
“Which is a fever. When he came in with chilled skin I thought it was hypothermia, another symptom of alcohol poisoning. But he’s got a hundred
and four degree temperature. That’s why you’re here.”
Izzy couldn’t take her eyes off of Quinn. His chest barely moved, and there was little else about him that gave any indication of life. “What can I do?”
“If this is some other form of poison, something he maybe ate or drank in the last twelve hours or so, that’s something we have to know as soon as possible.”
Izzy closed her eyes.
She’s going to ask the next question. I couldn’t answer it when it was Jason. How can I possibly answer it now that it’s Quinn?
“Has Mr. Murray been depressed lately?”
Izzy bit her lip and recalled the last words she uttered to him.
I told him to go to hell. He told me he loved me, that I should hang on to that no matter what else I heard, and I told him to go to hell.
“Miss Marks?”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking of the last time we spoke. We had an argument.”
Doctor Passavant closed her chart. “Miss Marks, I don’t have time to be coy. I know Mr. Murray was fired. The radio station had a press conference this morning. So he’s out of a job and you and he had an argument. Could he be depressed about that?”
There was too much for Izzy to comprehend. “I don’t know. Two days ago I would never think it possible.” She watched Quinn, searching for any flickering sign of hope. “Doctor, please, can I just stay here, with him, for a minute?”
The doctor smiled empathetically. “There’s a chair right there. If you’re chilled, there are blankets in the cupboard there. You can stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve got nurses outside monitoring everything. If you need anything, if you think of anything, let Nurse Callen know. She’ll contact me.”
“Thank you.” Izzy took a step toward the chair. “Oh, Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“If this was an accident, what would…do this?”
Dr. Passavant tapped her pen against her mouth. “My bet, if this was truly accidental, is something he would have ingested late last night or early this morning. If you can think of anyone who ate a meal with him that would really be good. We’re running a toxicology screen on him, but those take time. Time is the one thing we just don’t have.”
Izzy nodded. “I can’t think of anyone right now, but maybe Mr. Jensen. Let me talk to him, and I’ll come right back.”
She hustled down the corridor to the waiting room. “Benny!”
Benny looked up from his quiet conversation with Jenna. “Miss Izzy?”
“Who would Quinn have eaten with last night? Dinner…breakfast?”
Benny shrugged. “No clue about dinner. He was at Chance’s until late and Boss Lady took him home.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Quinn doesn’t breakfast with anyone. It’s his rule. Women don’t stay over.” Benny lowered his eyes. “Sorry, Miss Izzy.”
Geez, Southern manners! Give me some Midwestern blunt talk right now!
“Benny, never mind that. Last night, would Quinn have gone anyplace after Chance’s?”
“Doubtful. Chance’s was always sort of his last stop.”
“Serena took him from Chance’s. Dragged him, Mike said,” Jenna offered.
Izzy nodded. “So would Serena have taken him home, and made him breakfast?”
“Serena Shipley Chapman? Make breakfast for anyone?” Benny almost smiled. “No, not likely. She doesn’t like to get her hands dirty.”
“What are you getting at, Mom?”
“They think Quinn poisoned himself. Either with alcohol, or on purpose with something else. We need to find what he’s eaten in the last twelve hours.”
“I could go to his apartment and look around, if you’d like?”
Izzy smiled for the first time in hours. “You can get into his apartment? I’d go, but I don’t want to leave.”
Benny nodded. “His doorman knows me.”
“I’ll go with you, Mr. Jensen.”
“Please, call me Benny, Miss Jenna.”
“Jenna, text me when you find anything, okay? I can’t have my cell on in the room, but I’ll check as often as I can.”
“Okay.” Jenna hugged her and followed Benny out the door.
Izzy returned to Quinn’s room where nothing looked better. She inched the chair closer to the bed and slipped her hand through the bedrails. His skin was chilled, warming only where the heat of her trembling fingers brushed him. She covered his cold hand with hers and closed her eyes.
She didn’t remember falling asleep, but Izzy woke to numerous alarms. Nurses raced in and shoved her to the edge of the room, where she watched, horrified and helpless, and Quinn convulsed and vomited blood. Izzy buried her face in her hands and prayed for the anguish to end. Dr. Passavant strode in, concern tightening her face. She caught Izzy’s eye, but the calm empathy was gone. “Get her out of here!”
Without further word, Nurse Callen hustled her out. As the door hissed behind her, Izzy wandered down the corridor, to the waiting room. She stood, unable to focus on any point in the room.
“Miss Izzy?” It was Benny, holding a hand out to her.
“Benny. Jenna.”
“Mom, what’s happened?”
Izzy shook her head. “It’s bad. He’s convulsed again. He’s vomiting blood.”
Benny sank into a nearby chair. Jenna bit her lip and put an arm around Izzy’s shoulders. “Mom, I don’t know if this going to help, but Benny and I found this at Quinn’s apartment.” She held up her phone.
Izzy studied the picture for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. What is it?”
“We aren’t sure. Benny thought some kind of mushroom, since we found a few in a sauté pan. You know how Quinn is about eggs and mushrooms.”
Izzy squared her shoulders. “I have to go back in there and show the doctor this. “
“Are you sure, Mom? Can you go back in there?”
“I have to.” She put a hand on the door just as Grace Callen pushed it open. “Oh, Sorry, Miss Marks. I came out to give you an update on Mr. Murray.”
Izzy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay.”
“We’ve stabilized him, but he’s unconscious.”
Izzy’s knees weakened, but Benny and Jenna were there on either side of her, before she fell. “Okay.”
“Miss Marks, we’re doing everything possible right now. It would help if we knew what he ingested.”
Izzy held up the cell phone. “Do you know what this is?”
Grace frowned at the picture. “I haven’t seen those since I was a girl. They’re morel mushrooms.” She squinted at the picture more closely. “No. They’re false morels.”
“What does that mean?”
“Does Mr. Murray go mushroom hunting?”
Izzy shot at glance at Benny who shook his head vehemently. “No.”
“I’ll be right back.” She left the three of them staring at the closing doors in stunned silence.
Jenna and Benny returned to the chairs while Izzy paced in front of them. “This has to be an accident, right? Who would want to hurt Quinn?”
The same person who carried a grudge for twenty years.
“You guys didn’t touch anything at Quinn’s, did you?” Izzy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.
“No, just took pictures. Looked like it was breakfast for two, which is very weird.” Benny shook his head.
Izzy dialed her cell and waved a hand to quiet them. “Detective Emerson? This is Izzy Marks. I think someone tried to poison Quinn Murray, and I think it’s connected to what happened to me. There’s evidence in his kitchen, something I think the police should handle. The doorman will let you in. Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”
She ended the phone call and looked at her watch. “Jenna, you have practice.”
“Mom, you cannot be serious. I mean, it’s Quinn.”
Izzy gave her daughter a hug.
Yes, it’s Quinn. It’s someone you’ve attached to. Someone you think of as a father maybe. Of course you don’t want to go. I don’t either.
“Go to practice. Fill Mikayla in on what’s going on. Collier’s at the police station right now, answering some questions, and they want to question me.”
“Do you really have to go to the police station?”
She nodded to Benny. “If I promise you the best cup of coffee and cinnamon roll you’ve ever had, could you give me a lift?”
***
Detective Emerson and her partner ran out of questions for Izzy two hours later. As Izzy left the station, two very confused officers arrived carrying a large bag of kitchen garbage. Stepping into the clear evening air, Izzy glanced around the parking lot.
“I’m over here, Miss Izzy.”
Benny was clearly the product of a Southern upbringing. He opened the car door for her, and waited until she was safely buckled up before closing.
Just like Quinn.
“Did the police have a lot of questions for you, Benny?”
“They wanted to know about Quinn’s relationship with Boss Lady.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Only what I knew for sure, which wasn’t much. I did tell them about Sally, though. That interested them.”
Izzy put a hand on his shoulder. “Benny, I think we have time now for the long version of the story. How about if you tell me while we go to Silver Screen Coffee? I’d like to get everyone up to speed on what’s happening.”
“I’ve heard of that place. Any good?”
“I promised you great coffee and a cinnamon roll.” She gave him the address to the coffee shop. “And they’ve got the best of both.”
Benny eased the car away from the curb. “Miss Izzy, I don’t want you to feel obliged to me. I’d give you a ride anyplace, because Quinn thought so much of you.”
Izzy shook her head. “Don’t do that.”