He huffed, annoyed, then shouted to a passing waitress. "Tammy, tell these good gentlemen where I was last night.”
"Standing right where you are now," she said with a twang as she passed, wearing impossibly short shorts and a tight tank top.
Wade smiled in triumph. "I came on around 5:00 PM. Left about 2:30 AM. Any other stupid questions?”
“Why did you keep calling Sheila if you're the one who broke up with her?"
He frowned and exhaled through his nostrils. "Because… I missed her." He hung his head. "I know. I'm a total cuck. I couldn't stop thinking about her, man. It's so fucked up. What are you supposed to do in that situation? I wasn't cool with it at all, but I just couldn't imagine my life without her." His throat tightened, and his eyes misted. He tried to hold it all in and looked like he was going to explode. "Now she's gone," he said, covering his eyes with his hand as he teared up.
He took a second to pull himself together. Wade growled to himself, sucked up the pain, then shoved it down into a cold, dark place in the back of his mind. "Fuck it. Onward and upward, right?”
"Did Sheila have any enemies? Anybody who might want her dead?”
Wade thought about it for a moment. "If she was dating me, and I thought I was the only one, how many other guys were in the same position? Maybe one of those guys found out that she was cheating, too. Maybe one of those guys gunned her down."
It was something to think about.
Then he added, "You know she was under investigation, right?”
My brow lifted with curiosity. "Investigation?”
"Yeah. The Department of Health.”
"What for?"
"I don't know the ins and outs of it," Wade said. "Some old lady died. Her daughter bitched about something. Said Sheila actedinappropriately." Wade shook his head. "I don't really get it. The old woman was in hospice. She was going to die anyway. What did it really matter whether it was on Tuesday or Friday?”
“When did the investigation begin?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A month or two ago.”
I gave him a card and told him to call if he thought of anything else relevant.
We left the bar, and I called the Department of Health.
21
“Aformal complaint was lodged,” Sondra said. Her fingers tapped the keys. “According to our investigation, everything looks in order.”
“What was the issue?” I asked.
“According to the complaint, Rachel Van Cleef alleged Sheila had given her mother, Lois, an overdose of medication that ended her life. Rachel was out of town when her mother passed. Her brother, who was taking care of Lois at the house, denied the allegation. Investigators checked the logs and dosing schedule. They found nothing out of order. Granted, those logs are self-reported, and there is no oversight during in-home hospice care. Of course, all medications are tracked by the pharmacy.”
"Was an autopsy done?"
"Lois Van Cleef was 97 years old,” she said flatly. “No, Deputy. An autopsy was not done."
"Wouldn't be hard to save up medication, log it in the charts, then give one big dose to fade Lois into oblivion."
"Greg Van Cleef says he was with his mother the entire time and monitored Sheila's actions. He said nothing inappropriate was done. It's Greg’s word against Rachel's. Now you’re telling me that Sheila is deceased. It's a moot point, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is. But it could be a motive for murder."
"A pretty weak one if you ask me, but people will kill you as soon as look at you these days." She sighed. “As far as we’re concerned, our investigation will close. Good luck with yours.”
I thanked her for the information and ended the call. I planned on having a word with Rachel Van Cleef at some point. What could it hurt?
We headed up to Oyster Avenue and grabbed lunch at Mango Tango. Jack ordered the spicy shrimp tacos with pineapple slaw and a mango cream sauce. I went with the grilled swordfish with mango salsa and coconut rice.
