Death by Request (Caribbean Murder #11)

“Oh sure,” his eyes lit right up. “I heard of you. We all did.”


“I’d like to speak to some of the aides on the floor who worked in Tara’s room,” Cindy said naturally, as though it were a matter of course.

“Sure thing,” he agreed, picking up the phone and buzzing someone. “Gloria, you got a second? Someone up front wants to talk to you. Great.” Then he hung up. “She’ll be here in a second. I’m glad to help. My name is Skip.”

Cindy liked Skip immediately and he liked her. “I really appreciate your help, Skip,” Cindy said in a heartfelt manner. “Right now I need all the help I can get.”

“So do we all,” he whispered back.

“I especially need help with Tara,” Cindy stepped closer to the desk.

Skip’s eyes got wide. “Tara’s gone now,” his voice dropped. “You think she needs help now wherever she is?”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” said Cindy quickly, shivering. “I mean I need help finding out who put the substance in her IV.”

Skip flinched. “That was a horrible thing, terrible,” he exclaimed. Cindy was surprised to see how strongly it affected him.

When a person’s in a coma for a long time, a bunch of us from the hospital pray for

them every morning in the day room, over there,” he quickly said.

Cindy was startled. “That’s really lovely,” she said, touched.

“It makes a big difference, believe me,” Skip went on.

“I’m sure it does,” said Cindy.

“A lot of times we even see the blood pressure settle down after we pray,” he went on.

Cindy was impressed by this young man. She’d heard that many Jamaicans were religious, but it was especially uplifting to talk to someone who took his faith so seriously.

“We all felt Tara was going to make it,” Skip went on, sensing Cindy’s interest. “God is the healer, God can heal everything.”

“Not this time, though,” said Cindy sadly.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Skip interrupted. “How do you know what really happens in a coma?” He looked deeply at Cindy, as if he were trying to make a point.

“I don’t know, of course,” said Cindy feebly.

“For all we know the patient was recovering, just taking a rest, that’s all,” he said.

Cindy barely knew what to make of what he was saying.

“Some people even think that’s what happens after someone passes away,” Skip was on a roll. “It can be beautiful afterwards, healing continues. Some are way better off there.”

That was hard for Cindy to absorb. She immediately thought of her sister, Ann. Was she better off now, was she healing and happy?

“But we can’t know what happens for sure, can we?” Cindy breathed,

“Sure we can,” Skip smiled.

“If we can know something like that, then why can’t we know who ended Tara’s life?” asked Cindy.

“We will,” said Scott, “believe me. Someone here knows everything.”

“Who?” asked Cindy, mesmerized.

“You’re doing what’s right. God is on your side. Don’t give up, keep looking,” Skip whispered.

“Do you have any ideas?” asked Cindy.

“Not really,” Skip replied. “They didn’t let most of us go into the room. We just heard things from the nurses and aids. Talk to them,” Skip looked over his shoulder. “There are lots of different opinions floating around.”

“Is Gloria a good one to talk to?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, she’s perfect, she’s the best,” Skip said, as a short, plump woman in her early forties ambled down the floor. “Hey, Gloria, over here,” he waved to her, “come meet Cindy Blaine.”

Gloria came over to the desk, smiling at Cindy, “How do you do,” she said.

“Cindy’s here to find out about what happened to Tara,” Skip said quickly.

Gloria rolled her eyes. “Come down to the cafeteria with me for lunch,” she said to Cindy, “and we can talk.”

“Talk in public?” asked Cindy, “it’s okay?”

“Sure,” said Gloria, “why shouldn’t it be? We’re not hiding from anyone.”

Skip winked to Cindy, as she waved good bye before going to the elevator with Gloria for lunch.

*

Even though it was lunchtime the cafeteria was mostly empty. Cindy loaded her tray with an egg salad sandwich, yogurt, salad and two large iced teas. Her head was spinning and she wanted the comfort a big lunch would give.

“Boy, you’re hungry,” said Gloria, who just took a bowl of vegetable soup and lead Cindy to a table for two near a big window.

“This place is practically empty,” Cindy remarked, “how come?”

“There’s hardly ever anyone here,” said Gloria, sitting down. “Most of the guests order food in from a fine restaurant down the road and eat in private rooms reserved for them.”

Once again the hospital seemed strange to Cindy. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me,” she said to Gloria.

“It’s my pleasure,” said Gloria, “I’ve been one of the main aides on the case and have been wanting to talk to someone for a long time.”