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ORCHID CHAN, HER FACE haggard, insisted on accompanying her husband into the ambulance. She chased after the stretcher and acted quite the devoted newlywed. The remaining Chan members debated on who would steer their van to the hospital since they couldn’t agree on the family’s best driver.
“No, Fort’s way too aggressive.”
“Lyle’s mind is always in the clouds. Doesn’t pay attention to the road.”
“Sandy’s super slow.”
Before they could decide, a police officer strode toward the Mystery Shack from the side path. As the cop got closer, Winston did a double take. “Officer Gaffey, what are you doing here?”
“Winston”—the policeman shook his head—“should have known you’d be around. Always causing trouble.”
“I don’t initiate things. I investigate them.” Winston thought it was a clever use of words, but Gaffey grimaced.
“Leave crime solving to the professionals.”
Winston hesitated for a second. Should he return to the rehearsal and trust Gaffey to do the job? But the sneer on the cop’s face made Winston declare, “That’s why I’m an official seniors’ sleuth, a real expert.”
Gaffey cocked an eyebrow. “Get your PI license yet?”
Winston felt his face heat up. He clenched his hands into fists. “Do you have a homicide detective badge?”
“Almost, actually.” Gaffey gave a smug grin. “Taking the test real soon.”
Winston’s curiosity overcame his anger. “You what? When?”
Gaffey shrugged. “All these cases cropping up, someone’s got to solve them.”
“Why’d you get called in anyway?” Sure, the ambulance and firefighters had come, but they had deemed it an accident, not a crime scene.
“Noise disturbance,” Gaffey said. “A neighbor complained, said she heard screaming.”
Winston surveyed his surroundings. Acres of land around. Orchid Chan must have screamed pretty loud to have been heard by the adjacent homes.
Out of the corner of his eye, Winston noticed Fort making his way over. The eldest son introduced himself to Gaffey and said, “Officer, sorry you had to come out. Everything’s okay now.”
Gaffey pulled out a pad and pen. “What was the problem?”
Fort’s bulky body towered over Gaffey and made the cop look like a scrawny teen. “My dad, he fell. And my stepmother lost it, screamed her head off.”
Gaffey swiveled, looking at the family members around him. “Where is your father now? Is he okay?”
Tal’s slouched figure ambled over. His accompanying taint of muscle rub must have reached Gaffey because the cop started gagging. The policeman pinched his nose closed for a moment.
“I called the ambulance for Ba,” Tal informed Gaffey. “Fort did CPR.”
Gaffey scribbled in his notebook. “How is your dad’s health in general?”
“Better than mine.” Tal rubbed his back and winced.
Fort took over the conversation. “He’s seventy-five and in stable shape. Takes some pills.”
“Name them,” Gaffey said.
Fort threw his massive hands in the air. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff . . . Sandy, come here.”
The lululemon-clad lady walked over using long, smooth strides. “What do you need, Fort?”
“The officer wants to know about Ba’s meds.”
Sandy reached into the pocket of her yoga pants (they had pockets?) and pulled out a slim wallet. She opened it up and retrieved a laminated card. “All listed here,” she said, handing it over to Gaffey.
Winston spied a few of the names: Lipitor, Coumadin . . .
After some furious writing, Gaffey returned the card to Sandy. “What medical problems does your dad have?”
“Cholesterol, high blood pressure . . . He even had a minor heart attack a few years back.”
“He take all his meds today?” Gaffey asked. Winston had to give the cop props for asking a perceptive question. Maybe Gaffey would make a good detective someday.
Sandy wrinkled her brow and peeked into her wallet again. She wiggled out a miniature chore chart. “It was Viv’s turn to oversee the meds this week.”
Fort groaned. “She’s the worst.”
Sandy shushed him. “Bit of a prankster, but harmless,” she confided to Winston and Gaffey. She whistled to get Viv’s attention and called her over.
Viv sprang to action, almost twirling her way over to the group. “What’s going on?”
Gaffey started waving his hand in front of his nose, no doubt to diffuse the wave of rose power that rolled toward him. “I need to know what pills you gave your dad today.”
“The usual,” she said. “I stuck them all in his pill box.”
Winston stepped in. Time for him to shine and show Gaffey how to really investigate. Prove to the cop what kind of capable man Kristy would be marrying. “You don’t remember the names?” Winston asked Viv.
“Nah, but maybe there was a yellow one?”
Winston glanced over at Sandy, who patted Viv’s head like a child.
“You did follow the Google doc, right?” Sandy asked her sister.
Viv nodded. “Every last detail.”
Sandy told Winston and Gaffey, “We keep the medication names, colors, and dosages in the cloud.”
The other brothers saw the group talking and headed over. Bright came with his dark attire, Lyle with his huge camera, and even Evan stopped om-ing and joined the conversation. The men turned to Gaffey and started firing off questions, wondering if everything was okay, if there would be an investigation.
Gaffey closed his notebook and put away his pen. “No, I don’t think so. Seems like everything’s fine. Your dad probably had a medical scare, but the doctors will take good care of him.”
Winston noticed looks of relief on their faces. Even he felt calmer by Gaffey’s soothing prediction—until he heard some loud popping from outside the shack. Sounded like machine gun fire. And it must have come from the clearing.
“Kristy!” he exclaimed and started sprinting.