Page 65 of Chosen Path
“Someone like Greg or Kimberly, you mean,” Molly said.
“That would be conjecture at this point. But, yes, some third party.”
“Or they used them all,” Bodhi suggested.
“What?”
“Eight deaths. If all eight people were injected with between one and three doses of insulin, depending on their size, that could easily take eighteen vials.”
After a long pause, Hope broke the silence. “So, um, as I went through the Doc’s old files, I realized he didn’t archive the records of deceased patients. They’re still mixed in with his active files.”
“Of course they are,” Molly groused. “Why make the system usable?”
“I don’t think the system’s meant to be useable, Molly. It’s meant to be confusing.”
“Well, if that was Doc’s intention, he hit it out of the park.”
Bodhi pointed to the tick marks on Hope’s timeline. “So what’s all this?”
“Every time I found the file of a deceased patient, I checked the death certificate. If the cause of death was listed as an undetermined natural causes, like my mom’s, I added the patient’s name and date of death to the timeline.”
They all looked down at the sheet of paper.
“That’s a lot of tick marks,” Officer Booth noted.
“Isn’t it? But almost all of them also listed “old age” somewhere on the certificate.”
“The deceased were all of an advanced age. Just like my unexplained deaths. Or at least most of them.”
Bodhi studied the timeline. “Doc Larson’s death isn’t on here.”
“I didn’t find a file for him.”
Molly piped up, “He saw the doctor over in Greenview. They treated one another. You know the saying that lawyers who represent themselves have fools for clients? The same thing applies to doctors. Anyway, Doctor Thompson sent me Doc Larson’s records after he died. I wasn’t sure what to do with them, so they’re in the spare bedroom with all his other personal papers.”
Officer Booth stepped in front of the door. “Hang on. I see the excitement in your eyes. Before you three start digging through a bunch of old papers, I need to ask Hope just a few more questions about her mother’s death. And I should probably take possession of that insulin that Frank gave you. Just in case.”
Bodhi caught Hope throwing Molly a desperate, pleading look.
“I’ll get the insulin, while Molly provides moral support, if that’s okay with everyone?” Bodhi offered.
“Perfect,” Officer Booth told him.
He squeezed Hope’s shoulder before he left the library and headed to the kitchen, deep in thought. In his experience, undetermined natural causes and old age were disfavored causes of death. Most coroners or pathologists would view them as an admission of defeat, a failure to do their job. Maybe it didn’t carry the same significance for a general practitioner, but still, the numbers seemed excessive. Especially if, as Booth had claimed, Doctor Larson avoided reporting the deaths to the medical examiner’s office. Something was seriously amiss in Scandia Bluff.
He opened the refrigerator to grab the insulin and blinked. It wasn’t there. He opened every bin and drawer, then checked the freezer. No insulin. He frowned and felt his forehead wrinkle. Maybe Molly had secured it with the rest of the medications and forgot to mention it. He didn’t want to interrupt Officer Booth’s questioning of Hope, so he stopped at the sink to pour himself a glass of water before he returned to the library. As he walked through the waiting room, his eyes fell on Kimberly’s water glass.
Was it possible? It would take nerves of steel to walk into a doctor’s office, steal prescription medication, and then stand five feet away from a police officer and lecture someone else about appropriate behavior. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and thought. He hadn’t even been in town for forty-eight hours, but he knew this much: if anyone was bold enough to do it, it was Kimberly Dickerson.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
“You’re sure you didn’t move it?” Officer Booth asked Molly for the fourth time.
“I did not move the insulin,” Molly repeated for the fourth time.
“It was there this morning,” Hope repeated, also for the fourth time. “I added milk to my coffee and I almost knocked over one of the vials getting the container of milk.”
Booth blew out a long, exasperated breath then radioed her partner. “Perth, I need you to keep eyes on Kimberly Dickerson until I get to Pratt’s.”
