Malpractice Makes Perfect

Chapter 16

         The way I saw it I had a couple of big problems to closing this case. First, there was proving the murder. No easy task considering I had nothing but the testimonies of Alexis and Este and an empty syringe. And even if the results came back for some sort of medication, that wasn't proof of anything except it was used for, you know, administering medications.

          My second problem was the matter of motive. Drugging Diana to get her to change the will makes sense. Killing someone who would die shortly doesn't.

          If I looked at the four people involved in the will scam, motive still escaped me. Yeah Malik and Gabe were morally bankrupt enough to steal from their mother, but could they kill her? And why? Robert seemed even more distant and calculated. But why would he kill his golden goose? Corrine disliked her and even allegedly abused her. But to kill her? But then what if she didn't mean too?

          Accidental overdose was currently my most plausible answer. But something wasn't right.

          The thoughts swirled around my mind as I stared at a darkened ceiling from my bed. If I hazarded a guess, I'd say it was three AM—about the time I get up every day except today because it's Saturday and somehow Manny and Dr. Deb had convinced me to start taking Saturdays off. Something about it not being healthy to work seven days a week for years on end. Normally I wouldn't listen to lazy slackers like them, but I must admit I've been enjoying my days off. Maybe leisure time really is good for you.

          Even God rested on the seventh day—or so the tell me. I suppose it doesn't hurt to relax for one day a week. Of course, I could go in. No one would stop me—No. Self-care is self-love or some shit.

          I closed my eyes and tried to drift back off, but sleep alluded me. Instead of counting sheep I was thinking of all the ways the Dupont's could have murdered their own mother. And all the ways I could successfully prove it. And how good a donut would be right now. And stamps. And is Gabe really as dumb as he seems. And Manny's face-down cell phone. And how rent's almost due. And where am I going to get a baker as good as Jackson. And passports. And a dirty syringe in my purse. And tetanus. And why was the Night King being so extra about Bran. And how I wish I could see the future through a tree, I would fuck shit up. And I forgot to moisturize again. And am I in love.

          I eventually knocked out at about four and awoke at eight forty-five bright and bushy eyed. After a shower, some tea, and a nice warm breakfast (which I hadn't cooked for myself in a long time), I sat at the kitchen table stretching lazily and smiling with content.

          Maybe me and Manny could hang out today.

          I was so tired when I got in, I forgot to call him back last night, so no plans were made. But I'm betting he'd be willing to spend time with his best girl. I jumped up and unhooked my phone from the charger.

          He picked up by the second ring, his voice light and happy. "Morning, baby."

          "Morning." I smiled. "Sleep well?"

          "Without you? Nope."

          "Got plans today?"

          "Why? You want to see me?"

          "Of course."

          "I can't today." He said with an idle sigh. "Mom wants me to swing around and mow the lawn. Then she said she had some other stuff she wanted me to work on around her house."

           "Sounds like a long day."

          "Yeah, but she's mom."

          "How about after?"