Winston stalked down every corridor of Sweet Breeze hunting for Kristy. In a twist of irony, he found her outside of Joe’s old abode, now Harold Meekings’s new quarters. She closed the door behind her and was stepping out into the hallway when he sprang upon her.
“When were you going to tell me about the IV bags, Kristy?”
“Winston!” She placed one strong but delicate hand against her chest. “You startled me.”
“The bags, Kristy.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Joe’s IV bags.”
“Do you mean his dialysis bags? What about them?”
“I told you they were torn before. Now I know why—because somebody was trying to get rid of incriminating evidence.”
“They were intact when I hooked them to his catheter. They looked normal, no weird precipitate or anything. Clear as spring water.”
“Oh, so I suppose you didn’t notice the giant rips in them when you cleaned his mess up.”
“I told you before that I didn’t see anything.” She counted to five under her breath. “You know, the dead body was the more noticeable item.”
Her sarcasm didn’t faze him. “Did you overlook the vomit, too?”
Kristy bit her lip, as if remembering the scene. “He did throw up, but I wrapped everything up in the Chux and tossed it out.”
“How convenient.” Winston pointed a finger at her. “It’s easy to overlook the evidence when you’re covering up a crime, huh?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“I think you poisoned him, Kristy. You swapped out his special dialysis liquid for something more deadly. Then you ripped holes in the bags to spill out the poison. Cleaned it all up and tossed it in the trash, like the good little nurse you are.”
“You can’t be serious.” Her deep brown eyes bored into him. “You seemed like a better judge of character. I even thought you liked me.”
“That’s why they say you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, Kristy. What kind of poison was it?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Let’s get this straight, Winston. I would never, ever hurt one of my patients.”
He agreed. She wouldn’t do it out of straight malice. “What if you were easing his suffering? Securing a better death for him?”
“No, Winston. I’m in this job because I like it, even with the pension and benefits disappearing. I’m in it because life holds meaning for me, not death. I would have given anything for one more day, one more minute with my parents.” Her voice rang out strong in the enclosed space. “You remember when I told you my grandparents raised me all by themselves? It’s because my folks got killed in a car accident. An anniversary road trip on historic Route 66 turned tragic when my dad fell asleep at the wheel and swerved into a semi-truck.”
“You didn’t tell me this before.”
“It was our first date. What did you expect? And does it make a difference on how you view me? Am I suddenly more trustworthy because of my sad life story?”
Winston heard Harold coughing through the closed door. Kristy turned her head toward the rattling sound. “Even at the end of their lives, I’m invested in each resident. Sure, we need to keep the beds filled, but to me, people aren’t numbers. So excuse me while I do my work. And you know what? Maybe it’s a good time for you to leave.” She slipped back into Harold’s room without another word to him.