illness. “Who takes care of her while he’s at work?”
A tense heartbeat passed. “I’m sorry, Agent Maverick, but I’m not comfortable discussing Mrs. Conrad’s health. You understand.”
“Yes, of course.” Liam paused, then asked her about the case at Serenity Now. “Were you aware of that?”
“As a matter of fact, the director of Serenity Now phoned and asked me about Conrad after that woman died. But the center found no evidence of wrongdoing.”
Just like Whistler Hospital insisted there was no wrongdoing involved in Barry Inman’s wife’s death.
“I have one more question,” Liam said. “You said Mr. Conrad is devoted to his patients and I saw how compassionate he was with his mother. If a patient was terminal with no hope for a cure and in tremendous pain, do you think he might help them to pass?”
A long strained silence stretched between them. “I don’t know how to answer that, Agent Maverick. But if I knew of a case where he did that, I would have to report it. Now, excuse me I have to go.”
Liam thanked her and ended the call. She didn’t know how to answer—but her reaction was an answer in itself.
He checked the file Bennett had sent, then shot him a text asking him to dig deeper into Conrad and the idea he might be a mercy killer.
Bennett texted in return, Copy that. FYI: Conrad’s father died while at Golden Gardens.
If he was an angel of mercy, that death could have been his trigger.
* * *
PEYTON PACED THE ER while the doctors treated her mother for gas inhalation. They were giving her fluids and oxygen and had connected her to a heart monitor. Her blood pressure and oxygen saturation level were dangerously low, and she hadn’t yet regained consciousness.
That worried Peyton the most. Her mother couldn’t die.
Guilt niggled at her, and she squeezed her mother’s hand. If Val knew her mother might be dying, would she clean up her act and come to the hospital and say goodbye?
Or...would she come and try to steal drugs from her own mother? Was that the reason she’d been at her mother’s cottage? Not that they stored narcotics in the residents’ homes. The staff monitored the medications.
Residents suffering from memory issues, depression, confusion as a result of illness or aging conditions, and ones too physically challenged to oversee their own medications needed assistance. One could easily overdose if they mixed the wrong meds or overmedicated themselves.
Joanna called for an update, and Peyton choked up. “I don’t know if she’ll make it. She looks so weak and pale.”
“Hang in there, Peyton. I’m praying for her and you.”
“Thanks, Jo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Try to get some rest. Call me if you need me.”
Peyton mumbled she would, hung up, then stepped into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and stared at the bruise on her cheek. Even with makeup, the purple-and-yellow bruising shone through. She traced her fingers over the knot on the back of her head.
He mother’s heart monitor suddenly beeped that she was flatlining and Peyton darted from the bathroom. Two nurses and a doctor rushed in.
“Get the crash cart!” the doctor shouted.
“On its way,” the nurse responded.
Peyton had assisted in critical situations just like this so many times that it shouldn’t phase her. But this was her mother.
She leaned against the wall and watched in silence as the nurse charged the paddles.
Suddenly her phone beeped with a text. One of the nurses shot her an irritated look, and she clenched her phone with a white-knuckled grip as her mother’s frail body jerked, then went still again.
Tears blurred in her eyes as she looked down at the text.
YOU WERE WARNED.
Peyton pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a scream of denial, then watched as the staff desperately worked to save her mother.
Chapter Eleven
Peyton held her breath and sent a prayer to the heavens that her mother would survive.
After two attempts with the paddles, the machine finally beeped indicating a heart rate. Relief whooshed through her, and she sagged against the wall. Perspiration trickled down the back of her neck and her hands felt clammy.
One of the nurses gave her a questioning look. “You okay?”
She nodded although tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision. One nurse pushed the crash cart from the room, while another stayed by her mother’s side, checking and adjusting the monitors.
Shock and fear had fueled her adrenaline, but now that that was wearing off, her anger mounted, and the world moved in