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Burton watched a moment as the doctor walked away, her shoulders squared. He shook his head briefly, then walked closer to Grayson’s car. “Thanks for waiting. I think I’ve got all the information I need from all of you for now. I know where to find you if I need anything else.”
I climbed into the front seat of the car, and Grayson started driving away. Linus said in an anxious tone, “Ann, you shouldn’t have had to find that body. I’m sorry. I was so focused on Ivy’s unusual behavior that I didn’t even think to try to learn what she was trying to pull me toward.”
“Don’t worry at all about that. The important thing is that the police know about the murder now and are starting their investigation.” I looked back in the backseat and saw Ivy smiling a doggy grin at me. It made me smile back. “And that Ivy seems to be back to normal again.”
Grayson said, “I guess my day is heading in a totally unexpected direction now. I’ll be ditching my other work to focus on writing this story.” He paused. “Ann, do you know who the victim was? I know you said it was one of the doctors at the practice.”
Linus cleared his throat. “I’d like to know that, too. That clinic is where I go for my primary care.”
I said slowly, “It’s Victor Sullivan. Was he your doctor, Linus?”
There was a pause before Linus said quietly, “I’m afraid so.”
“I’m so sorry, Linus. I know all his patients thought very highly of him.”
Linus said, “Dr. Sullivan was pretty rare in the medical field. At least, he was in my limited experience. He was the kind of doctor who would really listen to you. He didn’t look at his computer screen or type while you were telling him about your aches and pains. He’d look me in the eye with concern, then ask me questions. He’d take as long as needed in the exam room with you. I never got the feeling that I was being rushed out of there.” He sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to start seeing Dr. Lee now.”
“You’re not as fond of Dr. Lee?” I asked.
“From everything I can tell, she’s an incredibly professional and successful physician. It’s unfair for me to compare her with Dr. Sullivan. But she has this very brusque manner and a habit of looking at her watch when I’m speaking to her.” He gave a wry chuckle. “Let’s just say that I don’t get the warm fuzzies from her the way I did for Dr. Sullivan. But times change, and we have to change with them.” He paused. “I wonder if Dr. Lee will even be able to handle all of Dr. Sullivan’s patients, or if I’ll have to find another practice.”
Grayson and I tried to encourage Linus, telling him it would all work out. Soon Grayson pulled up to Linus’s modest brick house, not far from the library. He carefully climbed out of the backseat, Ivy in tow. “Thanks so much, Grayson. Ann, I’ll see you at the library later on?”
“I’ll be there,” I said with a smile. “Just have to get cleaned up first.”
We waved at Linus, and he walked away toward his front door with Ivy leading the way and now, thankfully, much calmer.
Grayson’s mind was clearly already focused on the article he was going to write as he drove the short distance to my cottage. “It sounds like Victor Sullivan was an important figure in town. This is going to be a big story, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I was telling Burton. It’s going to be a high-profile case. It will be hard for a lot of folks in town to believe that their doctor met a violent end in Whitby.”
Grayson said, “Can you fill me in a little on what you saw? Of course I can’t use it in the paper—Burton would kill me if I disclosed something from the crime scene that the cops wanted to keep quiet. But I’d like some background on what happened, just for my own benefit.”
I took a deep breath, going back to the scene in my head. Grayson said quickly, “Sorry, Ann. That was insensitive of me. You don’t want to relive that.”
“No,” I said slowly. “It’s really fine. I think it will help me work things out in my mind if I replay it.” I considered what I’d seen. “Of course, the first thing I wanted to do was to check Victor for a pulse. After that, I took a quick look at everything around him. It looked like he’d been hit over the head with a heavy medical reference book—there was blood pooling around his head. But Grayson, he’d also been strangled by his stethoscope.”
Grayson pulled into my driveway and stopped the car. “That’s awful,” he said in a grim voice.
“It was. It looked like somebody just used whatever they had around them to kill him. Maybe that indicates that the crime was spur of the moment? That someone lashed out at him rashly?”
Grayson said, “Maybe. But if that’s the case, isn’t it weird that they killed him when he was going into work? It must have been pretty early in the morning. That doesn’t sound like something that wasn’t planned.” He frowned. “I’m just guessing he was going into work. Do you think he was killed last night, instead, when he was heading back home?”
I shook my head. “His skin was still warm when I was searching for a pulse. Plus, he had keys near his hand, like he’d been getting his keys out to open the office door. You’re probably right—the killer was waiting for him. He must have either been watching Victor or was familiar enough with his routine that he knew when he’d be coming into work.”
“That information seems to point to a coworker, doesn’t it?”
I said, “Maybe. You saw I spoke with Paige Lee. She’s the other doctor in the practice.”
Grayson said wryly, “It sounded like Linus wasn’t too impressed with her.”
“Well, I think she’s probably great at her job, but doesn’t have the bedside manner that Victor had. She came across pretty cold when Burton was talking with her, but then she’d just had a shock. Maybe she was just trying to wall herself off from her feelings so she could process them.”
Grayson asked, “Do you know Dr. Lee?”
“I’ve seen her around town before, but I’ve never met her.” I thought for a second. “She said that Victor wasn’t as kind and generous to his staff as he was to his patients. Dr. Lee was talking about how he was with the nurses and the medical student who’s there, but it made me wonder what her relationship with Victor was really like,” I said.
“Did Burton ask her?”
“He did. She kind of clammed up,” I said. “She basically said that they had a professional relationship, and that was it. They didn’t meet outside of work or consider themselves friends outside of the office.”
Grayson said, “Got it. Maybe I can call her and get a quote for the paper. She wasn’t too upset?”
I considered this. “You know, it was really tough to read her. I got the impression she was surprised at Victor’s death, but that she seemed to take it in stride. No, she didn’t seem upset at all. She was very focused by the end of the interview on canceling patient appointments and informing the staff that the clinic would be closed for the day. But again, she might have been trying to process his death in her own way.”
Grayson looked at his watch and grimaced. “Sorry. I’m keeping you from getting cleaned up and heading in to work.” He glanced over at my house and grinned. “There’s somebody who would like you to get him to the library as soon as possible.”
I followed his gaze and saw my orange and white cat Fitz, looking inquisitively at me from the window. A sunbeam illuminated him as he watched me. It put a happy smile cross my face. I needed a cuddle, and Fitz was great for giving them.
Grayson was also wonderful at giving them. He reached over to pull me into a hug. I pulled back, protesting, “I’m all gross and sweaty, Grayson!”
“I don’t care.” He buried his face in my dark hair, and I felt some of the stress seep out of me. He pulled back and looked solemnly at me. “Call me today if you need me. Anytime. Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick from work?”
I shook my head. “No, it’ll be better for me to be at the library. You know that’s my happy place. Anyway, keeping busy helps keep me from dwelling on it.”
“Do you need me to run a lunch by later?”
I shook my head again. “No, thanks. I was actually super-organized last night and put together a pasta salad for lunch today. I just have to toss the container in my lunchbox.” I hopped out of the car with more energy than I was feeling. “I’ll talk to you later. Good luck writing your story.”
Thirty minutes later, I was clean, wearing something professional-looking, and heading to the library with my lunch and Fitz in tow. Fitz seemed to have picked up on the fact something was wrong and was casting me sorrowful looks from his crate. When I hit a stoplight, I reached out and rubbed him on his little nose. He purred back at me.
The library was in full swing when I arrived. There was a large group of moms with toddlers who must have just left storytime. They’d converged at the circulation desk with gobs of board books and picture books and the moms were happily chatting with each other as they waited. The computer room was full of patrons working at the desktops, and the stacks seemed to be alive with browsers. It always made me happy to see so many people there, even if it meant a busier day.
I walked over to Wilson’s office. He was the library director and the person I’d called to say I’d be late. Wilson was a big fan of punctuality, and I knew from personal experience it was much better to call in saying I’d be late than to just show up behind schedule. He was frowning at his computer, his prematurely white hair framing his face. His rimless glasses gave him something of a scholarly look, and he wore one of his omnipresent suits.
“Ann,” he said as I walked in. “Everything okay?”
I filled him in quickly, having the feeling that I was going to be telling my story a lot today. Luna, my friend and coworker, was definitely going to want to hear it. As I told Wilson what happened, his frown deepened. “Oh no,” he said. “Victor was my doctor, too.” He gave a deep sigh. “What a mess.”
I nodded. “Sorry about Victor’s death. I know he was a great doctor.”
“He was indeed.” Wilson leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully. “I remember once I was having a very uncomfortable evening with some sort of nagging pain. It’s the sort of thing where your imagination can blow it up into something much bigger than it actually is.”
“Weird how those kinds of problems always seem to happen after office hours,” I said. “Or over holidays.”
“Precisely. After becoming even more uncomfortable, I called the office. I felt so incredibly miserable, and I realized I would not be sleeping at all. I knew no one was there—it was eleven o’clock at night, after all. But I thought I’d leave a message so the receptionist could get me booked first thing in the morning.”
I said, “You didn’t get an ambulance to take you to the hospital?”
Wilson gave me a semi-horrified look. “Of course not.”
This, I reflected, was likely because of Wilson’s desire to always stay somewhat in the background. That was impossible to do when arriving in an ambulance to the emergency room.
Wilson continued. “As it happened, Victor picked up the call as soon as it started ringing.”
“You’re kidding. He was there at eleven-thirty at night?”
Wilson nodded. “He certainly was. What’s more, he told me to come right on in. Turns out, I had appendicitis. I credit Victor for allowing me to come in and helping me possibly avoid a burst appendix and life-threatening infections.”
I frowned. “Please tell me that Victor just diagnosed you and then you did go to the hospital.”
Wilson looked as if his feathers were a bit ruffled. “Yes, of course, Ann. I certainly wasn’t going to balk at going to the hospital with that diagnosis. Appendicitis is nothing to mess around with. Victor drove me to the hospital himself, walked me in, and made sure I was taken back as soon as we got to the emergency room. I was incredibly impressed by him.”
I had to admit, this was actually pretty impressive. That definitely seemed to be above and beyond the call of duty. Most doctors wouldn’t have been at the office that late anyway, but if they had been and had picked up the call, they’d have told the patient to dial 911.
Wilson gave me a small smile. “So that’s why I’m especially sorry to hear what happened. And sorry for you that you had to go through that this morning.” He sighed again, as if feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. “All right, well, don’t let me keep you. Thanks for letting me know what happened.” He paused. “As a matter of fact, what are you working on?”
I knew my answer to this was going to be key. Wilson had a habit of dumping work on me by coming up with new library events and putting me in charge of developing, scheduling, and being completely in charge of them.
“I’ve got the upcoming trivia night to finish planning, for one.”
Wilson nodded, but I could tell that his mind was churning with new ideas for tasks for me to do. I hurriedly added, “I’m still working on the project I was researching yesterday. It’s a resource compilation for the library, designed to help job hunters find work. For it, I was pulling together books, online resources, and listing local and regional workshops that helped with resume-building and other skills.”
Wilson nodded, looking more pleased. “Excellent. You’ll make sure that the rest of the staff is aware the resource exists when you’re done? I know patrons often come up to the circulation desk to ask questions about searching for jobs.”
“Definitely. I’m also going to talk about the resource on the library’s social media.”
Now Wilson looked even more pleased. He didn’t know much about social media except that it brought results in terms of engagement. “Anything else?” he asked.
“I also want to get started on creating a community health resource. I’ll have to keep it updated, naturally, but I thought it could provide information on local support groups, fitness programs, healthcare access, substance abuse prevention and treatment, and mental health services.”
Wilson looked even more cheerful now. “Very nice, Ann. That will definitely be a handy resource.” He paused. “Isn’t the library about to host a forum on mental health resources in the community?”
“Yes, I’m helping to set up for it. I think that’s what gave me the original idea.”
Wilson said the words I’d been waiting to hear: “Good job, Ann. It sounds like you’ve got plenty on your plate. I’ll let you go get started on it all.”