Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(34)

After a few minutes of serious eating, we both slowed down enough to continue the conversation. “Have you searched Ned’s home yet?” I asked, pressing my napkin to my mouth.

“They’re there now.”

“If you do find a shovel that matches the soil at my house, I’d love to know why Ned would have been digging around my place.”

“Whatever the reason, I think it got him killed.” His expression was somber.

“Yeah.” I shivered. “I have a ton of patients booked for tomorrow. Am I going to be able to open for business?”

“Yes. We’ll have the scene processed by midnight tonight.” He pushed a fry into his mouth as he watched me. Once he’d swallowed, he asked, “I hope you weren’t planning on sleeping at your house tonight?”

“No. I booked this hotel for two nights.” I pushed my plate toward the edge of the table. “I’m praying I’ll be ready to go back there tomorrow.”

“We drained the pool for evidence, so if I were you I’d call the pool guy to give it a good scrub, and then it will be good as new.”

I shuddered. “Yeah. Not counting a dead body was floating in it.”

“Yeah.” He shifted uneasily. “Do you have anybody you can think of who has a grudge against you?”

“In town?”

“Anywhere.”

My thoughts went to the patient I’d lost a few months ago. “I’m sure the family of Lucinda Pratt would love for bad things to happen to me.”

“Lucinda Pratt?” He looked confused.

“She’s the patient that died on my operating table.” I swallowed nervously.

His gaze softened. “Oh.”

“Her family was understandably devastated.”

“Do you think they would actually act on their hurt and anger by coming after you?”

Shrugging, I said, “Who knows? I was cleared of any wrongdoing, but that probably meant nothing to them. They would assume that was just the hospital covering their ass.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No.”

“What happened exactly?” He looked uncertain, as if he had a feeling I wouldn’t want to answer him.

I hesitated, considering telling him to butt out. But instead I answered. “She had an undiscovered tumor. It weakened the veins to such a degree I couldn’t tie them off to stop the bleeding.”

“Shit.”

I dropped my gaze, feeling shaken all over again. “It was a nightmare. I used to be so fucking confident. I guess I was arrogant enough to believe my experience and training would prepare me for anything that could ever go wrong. But that wasn’t the case.”

“There was nothing you could do?”

I shook my head. “I called for more blood, and she just bled that out too. It was horrible. Nothing I did could keep the veins from deteriorating. I just literally had no way to stop the hemorrhaging.”

“Whose fault is it the tumor went undiagnosed?” He frowned. “Yours?”

“No. I was just the surgeon. I wasn’t her primary doctor. The blame lies with the radiologist who missed it. I believe the family sued for malpractice, but I was exonerated. I did everything I could with what I was handed. There’s only so much time to try and stop the bleeding before it’s just too late.” My voice was hushed as I fought off the memories of that gut-wrenching moment.

“God. I’m sorry you went through that.”

I exhaled roughly. “It’s her family I feel sorry for.”

“Of course.” His gaze was empathetic. “So because of that one patient you chucked your surgical career?”

My stomach tensed. “I had my confidence shaken. You don’t want a surgeon opening you up when he doubts himself.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

“But see, now I know I can fail.” I swallowed. “I didn’t before.”

He didn’t speak.

I met the gaze of a girl across the restaurant. She didn’t smile or scowl; she just stared. “People know about Ned, right?”

“Yes.”

I held the girl’s unflinching gaze. “Do they know he was found in my pool?”

“I’m sure they do. Why?”

“There’s a girl staring at me.” He glanced over his shoulder, and I winced. “Don’t look at her.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to know we’re talking about her.”

“She’s probably just curious.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Curious because she thinks I killed Ned.”

“Maxwell, you were ruled out.”

“So was O. J. Simpson, but that didn’t mean anyone believed he didn’t do it.”

“We’re not talking about a glove fitting or not fitting here. We’re talking about you physically being unable to murder someone and dispose of the body in between patients wandering in and out of your office.”

“I guess.”

“You didn’t even take a break that day.”

I squinted at him. “You know that?”

“I told you we checked it all out. I wasn’t taking any chances. I talked to Girdy, looked at the appointment log, and interviewed everybody who had a consultation that day. They all said the same thing: Dr. Thornton never left his office.”