to have come to a standstill. Several staff members
were still talking in groups of twos and threes, but the
high-pitched excitement of the past few minutes had
dwindled into muffled voices and slumped shoulders.
Robbie the Robot scooted down the hall, blinking and
beeping to announce his passage.
“Call for the nurse, any nurse,” Renie said, finally
returning to her bed. “They’ll come for you. Whoa.”
She collapsed, still clinging to her IV stand. “I’m not
ready for prime time. I feel all wobbly.”
Judith pressed the button. “I could use a dose of
painkiller,” she said. “It’s been a while.”
But it was almost half an hour before Corinne Appleby appeared, her face flushed and her manner still
58
Mary Daheim
agitated. “I’m supposed to be off duty at eleven,” she
said with a quick glance at her watch, “but as you
probably know, we have had an emergency. I have to
stay a bit longer. I’ll take your vitals now and then get
some more pain medication.”
The nurse’s fingers fumbled with the thermometer;
she gave herself a good shake. “Sorry. It’s been an upsetting morning.”
“What caused Mr. Randall to die so suddenly?” Judith asked.
Corinne didn’t look at Judith. “I don’t know. He
seemed to be doing quite well.”
“Why did they rush his body down the hall after he
died?” Judith queried. “I mean, he was already beyond
help, wasn’t he?”
Corinne gave a curt nod. “Yes. He must have been
an organ donor. The same procedure was followed
with Mr. Somosa and Ms. Fremont.”
Judith pressed on before Corinne could put the thermometer in her mouth. “Will they perform an autopsy
on Mr. Randall?”
“Yes, it’s required in such cases.” The nurse still
avoided Judith’s gaze as she began the pulse routine.
Renie had managed to get herself back under the
covers. “But how can they do an autopsy if he’s donating his organs? That doesn’t make sense.”
“They can take the corneas,” Corinne replied. “Eyes
aren’t part of a routine autopsy.”
“So they did autopsies on Fremont and Somosa?”
Renie asked, filling in for her cousin, who now had the
thermometer in her mouth.
“Yes.” Corinne kept focused on her watch. “As I said,
they have to when a patient dies unexpectedly. The
county automatically assumes jurisdiction in such cases.”
SUTURE SELF
59
“What did they find out with the first two?” Renie
inquired.
“I couldn’t say,” Corinne replied, removing the thermometer from Judith’s lips. “There, now let’s take
your blood pressure.”
“Couldn’t?” Judith smiled. “Or can’t?”
“Won’t.” Corinne wound the cuff around Judith’s
arm. “The hospital has made its public statement.”
“ ‘Extenuating circumstances’?” Renie quoted from
what she’d read in the newspaper. “As in, not the hospital’s fault?”
Corinne shrugged, but said nothing. Judith couldn’t
resist goading the nurse. “I saw the news last night on
TV. Good Cheer is being sued, I gathered.” It was only
an assumption, given the brief news bit the cousins had
seen, but it seemed a logical conclusion.
Corinne made no response of any kind, but removed
the cuff, made some entries on a chart, and started
working with Renie.
“Nope,” Renie said, rolling over away from the
nurse as far as she could. “I’m bored with vital signs.
You aren’t any fun, Appleby. Why don’t they let Robbie the Robot do this stuff?”
“Please, Mrs. Jones,” Corinne said severely, “don’t
act childish.”
“But I am childish,” Renie replied. “Often immature
and a downright brat. Come on, lawsuits are a matter
of public record.”
Corinne took a deep breath. “I really don’t know.
There have been some rumors.”
Renie didn’t budge. “There were other rumors, too,
about Fremont and Somosa being drug abusers. Is that
the hospital’s defense?”
Corinne Appleby made an angry gesture, her face so
60
Mary Daheim
flushed that the freckles disappeared. “None of that’s
any of your business. If you won’t let me take your vitals, that’s fine. But I intend to enter your lack of cooperation on the chart.”
“Be my guest,” Renie shot back as the nurse headed
for the door. “I’ll file a complaint. I’ll call you a big drip.”
Corinne was almost out of the room when a deep,
angry voice could be heard from the hallway.
“Don’t tell me who I can talk to and who I can’t!”
the man shouted. “I’m sick of this runaround! Where
the hell is Dr. Garnett?”
Startled, Corinne scooted away and closed the door
behind her.
“Drat!” Judith exclaimed. “She can’t do that! Coz,
could you . . . ?”
“Aargh,” groaned Renie. “I guess.” She struggled to
get out of bed again. “Who do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know,” Judith replied. “I could only hear,
not see, him.”
Renie opened the door just in time to see the man,
who had a dark beard, accost two young people.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, “but I want to help. Let’s go
somewhere else so we can talk in private.”
Trying to get a better look at the newcomers, Renie
stepped farther out into the hall. From the bed, Judith
could see only Renie’s backside and the IV stand. She
gave a little jump when her cousin stumbled into the
room, propelled by the firm hands of Sister Jacqueline.
“We simply cannot have patients interfering or getting involved with hospital routine this morning, Mrs.
Jones,” the nun said in an emphatic tone. “Please remain in your room, and we’d prefer you to keep your
door shut. Remember, it’s for your own sakes as well.
You need to rest in order to make a quick recovery.”
SUTURE SELF
61
Perhaps it was all those years in parochial school,
but even Renie could comply with the wishes of a nun.
“I know that bearded man,” she said, back-pedaling in
a clumsy manner. “That’s Addison Kirby, the newspaper reporter. He was married to Joan Fremont.”
Sister Jacqueline merely gave a slight nod. “Please
get back in bed, Mrs. Jones.”
“Who are those two young people?” Renie persisted. “Are they the Kirby kids?”
The nun started to turn away, then paused. “No.
They’re Mr. Randall’s son and daughter. They came to
the hospital to be with their mother.”
“How is Margie Randall doing?” Judith asked with
genuine sympathy.
Sister Jacqueline had reached the doorway. “Not
well, I’m afraid. She’s a very emotional woman. Excuse me, I must go.”
Judith gazed at Renie. “It cannot be a coincidence
for three well-known people to die unexpectedly after
routine surgery in Good Cheer Hospital.”
Renie looked pained. “I never like encouraging you
to track down murderers, but I have to admit, this is
pretty weird.”
“More than weird,” Judith responded, remembering
to take another sip of water. “But what’s the connection? One actress. Two sports stars. One active, one retired. From different sports, too. Who could possibly
want all three of them out of the way?”
Staring out through the windows with their faded