Page 37 of Chosen Path
“That’s what she said.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “That’s weird, right?”
“Oh, it’s beyond weird,” he agreed. “Your Uncle Al called while you and Hope were talking to Officer Booth. I told him about it and he said it was the kookiest crap he’s heard of outside a movie of the week. That’s a direct quote.”
She laughed. “I’m sure. I can hear him saying it.” She blew out a breath. “So I’ve accomplished nothing. Every time I reported a death, I was yelling into the abyss?”
“Well, you accomplishedsomething.I think you made some enemies. And you definitely pissed off seven families who adamantly refused to consent to autopsies.”
Contrary to outward appearances, Hope must have been paying attention because she dropped her fork with a clatter against the ceramic bowl. “You mean six.”
“Pardon?”
“Six families. You said seven families refused to permit autopsies, but nobody asked my family. When my mom died. Ed Pratt would have asked, right?”
“Ed or the police, yeah. But in your case, it was Ed,” Molly told her.
“No, it wasn’t. He didn’t ask. I was my mom’s health care agent. It was one of the enumerated powers in the advance directives—burial arrangements or disposition of remains. But nobody asked me.”
The blood drained from Molly’s face.
“What is it?” Bodhi asked quietly.
She kept her eyes fixed on Hope as she answered the question. “When I was making copies of the patient records for you, I pulled out all my old notes. The family did refuse to consent. Ed Pratt left a voicemail to let me know that Kara said the family was opposed to an autopsy.”
A bright red stain crawled up Hope’s neck to her cheeks. Her voice shook. “That rancid bitch.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
In the aftermath of Molly’s revelation, they decided that Bodhi would stay with Hope while Molly visited the hardware store across the square to see whether Greg remembered anything about Derek Wolf.
It was, Molly knew, a long shot. But she had to dosomething.And Greg Rockman was a fixture in the town. Aside from running the hardware store, he’d been on the village council for decades. He would have been involved in Derek’s brush with the law both as a shopkeeper and as a village official. Surely he’d be able to give her a scrap of information, if nothing else.
But even if the conversation with Greg turned out to be a bust, it would be good to get some air. It had been a wild morning, and the afternoon showed no signs of being calm. She couldn’t just sit around and watch Hope Gardener fall apart. Even though she’d only met Hope a handful of times, Molly couldn’t stand to see her suffering. And Hope was suffering, there was no doubt. The pain in her eyes had seared Molly’s heart like a hot brand. Shehadto help her.
Molly was woman enough to admit that the doctor who worked exclusively with dead people had a better bedside manner than she did. He would be able to soothe Hope better than she could. She could feel herself reacting to Hope’s anguish, taking on the emotions herself.
It was funny how much the youngish Buddhist pathologist reminded her of her old(ish) Jewish uncle—Uncle Al would be pleased to know that he never seemed old to her. The two men shared a quiet calm. Equanimity, she would call it. She, in contrast, was what would generously be called excitable.
She reached the corner and ran across the street, jumping over a large muddy puddle and dodging the splash of a car’s tires as it drove straight through the same puddle. It felt good to move her body. To escape from the constant whirring of her thoughts, if only for a few moments. She paused on the sidewalk to adjust her scarf, then opened the door to the hardware store.
At the tinkle of the bell over the door, Greg Rockman looked up from the seed catalogue he was paging through.
“Afternoon, Doc Hart. Can I help you find something?” He closed the catalogue and pushed it to the side of the counter.
“Hi, Greg. Not today, although I’ll probably be seeking your guidance when the ground thaws. My yard seems to be a weed garden, so I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”
He laughed. “Doc Larson was a great doctor, but he didn’t have much of a green thumb. He gave that backyard over to nature a long time ago.” Then he drew his eyebrows together. “So, if you aren’t here shopping, what can I do for you?”
Molly scanned the small, crowded aisles to confirm there were no customers in the store. Seeing none, she stepped over to the counter and lowered her voice. “You may have heard about Corrine Wolf,” she began in a confidential tone.
Greg blinked at her. “I know the police were at her place this morning. Heard your doctor friend was there, too.”
Now how did he know that? she wondered for a beat. Then she laughed, “Frank?”
“Nobody delivers the news like Frank,” Greg agreed.
“Doctor King was at Corrine’s house,” she confirmed. “And I’m sorry to be the one to tell you she’s passed away.”
