Dumpster Dicing (Bunco Biddies Book 1) Page 11

  Fighting tears, she scooted on her behind, foot aloft, down the hall to her bedroom table where her cell phone sat recharging. Each inch shot more pain into her injured joints. But with gasps, a thumping heart, and tears streaming down her face, she stretched her fingers to snag the recharging cord tethering her ability to contact to the outside world via the electrical outlet.

  Speed dialing her daughter, Janie waited for the rings to be answered.

  A groggy hello followed after the third one.

  “Melody, dear. I know it’s storming, but I fell and twisted my foot. It hurts like the dickens. I need you to come take me to the emergency clinic.”

  Sheets rustled through the speaker along with Blake’s mumbling in the background. “Mom. Hang tight. I’ll be right over. Do not move.”

  “I already did in order to reach the phone. But I’ll stay still now. I’m in the bedroom. You’ll have to use the spare key.”

  Janie listened as drawers pulled open and shut. Her daughter’s voice muffled.

  She must be cradling the receiver with her chin.

  “Be there in twenty minutes, max. I promise.”

  “Thank you, Mel. Drive safe, now. The roads will be slick.”

  Melody’s exasperated response came through the receiver. “I will, Mom.”

  Janie hung up and gulped back a series of sobs. She may be in the assisted living center earlier than she anticipated.

  Dear Lord, what will I do then?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Well, these came out nice and clear,” the emergency tech told her as he hung the x-ray on the white screen. “The doc will be in a minute. He’ll study these and give your foot a more thorough examination.”

  Janie heaved her chest as she propped on her elbows. Melody paced, her hair skewed in a hurriedly wrapped ponytail. From the multiple creases, her shorts and T-shirt had been worn earlier in the day. “Daughter, stop fidgeting. It might be much ado about nothing.”

  Melody’s eyelids reddened. “Nothing? Mom, you fell. Don’t you understand this is every grown child’s worse nightmare?”

  Janie lay back on the examining table and stared at the acoustic tiles. She blinked back the tears before they showed on her cheeks. Every elderly person’s one, too.

  The on-call physician tapped on the door and entered with a warm smile and kind eyes. “Well, now. They tell me you took a tumble. Has this happened before?”

  Janie lifted herself to a sitting position with his assistance. “No. First time.”

  “Hmmm.” His hands slid over her foot as he studied the swollen and discolored area. “Tell me when it hurts.”

  “I could’ve told you that a half hour ago.” Janie winched as his fingers probed the muscles.

  He chuckled. “Any place worse than another?”

  As his thumb pressed, she jerked. “You found the spot, Doc.” She jammed her lips together as a tear slid down her face.

  He patted her calf. “Sorry. Let’s take a look.” He turned to the bluish-white box illuminating the x-ray. He peered over his readers and leaned in with a frown to scrutinize one particular area.

  Jane cut her eyes to Melody who tucked her lower lip into her teeth. The silence thumped in her ears.

  “Well....” He swiveled to face her with a quick grin. “I don’t detect any signs of a break.”

  “What luck.” Melody’s shoulders slacked.

  “Not exactly. From the swelling and bruising now forming, I venture to say she strained several muscles in the outer foot.”

  Melody’s face paled.

  He peered into Janie’s eyes. “That sometimes takes longer to heal. We are going to construct a splint for you and give you crutches.”

  “Is it really necessary?”

  “Absolutely.” He waggled his finger as if she had diminished in age by sixty years. “You are not to put any, and I mean any, weight on your foot for seven days. Understood? If you re-injure the ligaments, you may tear one, which would not be pleasant.”

  Janie looked down at her hands and nodded.

  The doctor turned to Melody. “Someone should stay with her for first forty-eight hours. They make a device on which she can rest her bent knee. Works well for older patients. I think Medicare covers the expense as durable medical. The girls up front will provide the name of an orthopedic equipment company in Austin who carries them. I suggest you get one for her tomorrow. It’ll make compliance a lot easier.”

  Janie narrowed her eyes, miffed that he spoke as if she were deaf as a doorknob or not even in the room. “Now, she is to rest. Elevate it and apply ice for ten minutes every hour for the next day. Do not let her get up without assistance. Okay?”

  She cleared her throat loudly and arched her left eyebrow high.

  He turned toward her and winked. “If the swelling or pain doesn’t subside after a few days, return to the clinic. If your foot becomes reddened, hot to the touch or spongy, come back. Okay?”

  His patronizing, stern tone made Janie recall her kindergarten teacher. Humph. Does he assume I am senile as well? Even so, she spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, sir.”

  The tech will be in with the splint in a minute. Questions?”

  “How long will this take to heal?”

  “Four to six weeks. My guess is the latter. In ten days, you can remove it and try wearing one of those athletic wraps they sell in the drug stores. Get one with supporters on either side which secures with Velcro strips, not the one you slip on, okay? Tugging may damage the muscles. And if you don’t own a cane, buy one. I want you using it for support for at least a month after the splint comes off.” He wrote on a piece of paper, ripped it from his tablet, and handed it to her. “Return here a week from Monday and let me see how you are progressing. If I’m satisfied with your recovery process at that time you can switch to the cane. But don’t try it on your own. I will send you to physical therapy so they can instruct you on its proper use. Too many people use them the wrong way and end up with knee and hip pain.”

  Mother and daughter bobbed their heads in unison.

  The physician shook both their hands and exited.

  Another tear cascaded down Janie’s cheek. “I am so sorry, Mel. I know how busy you are with the kids. I can see if one of the Bunco Biddies can babysit me. Perhaps in shifts?”

  Melody rested her hip on the gurney. She took Janie’s hand. “Mom, after all the years you cared for me, now it’s my turn. Blake can handle getting the kids to school. I can stay the rest of the night and until tomorrow afternoon. But I am going into Austin to get that contraption for you, so can one of them keep you company for an hour or so mid-morning?”

  “I’m sure they won’t mind. I’ll give them a ring first thing in the morning.” Janie slapped her forehead. “We need to let Betsy Ann and Ethel know I won’t be jogging with them.”

  Her daughter laughed. “No, I guess you won’t.”

  Another tap. The tech returned with a towel, a bowl of water, and a long strip of felt. Rolls of stretchy, flesh colored bandage were tucked under his arm.

  “What’s that?”

  “Your splint. We mold the plastic to fit your foot.” He put the towel over the counter top and dragged the felt strip through the water. Next, he formed the warmed material under and over Janie’s foot like a stirrup and held it in position. The fabric soon cooled and stiffened. “Minuscule fiberglass pellets inside this covering melt in the hot water then begin to harden as they cool.”

  “Well, I’ll be.”

  He gave her a quick smile as his hands gingerly pressed the mold against her ankle and calf, halfway up to her knee. “You can take this off for fifteen minutes each day as you bathe. But no standing in the shower. Do you own a bath chair?”

  “I can locate one. Besides, all the tubs at the village are equipped with handicap rails.”

  “Sunset Acres? My great aunt lives there. Rosanne Richardson.”

  Janie’s facial muscles eased. “I play Bunco with her.”

 
He nodded in approval. “Tell her hi from Evan.” His cheeks took on a rosy tint. “And I will get by to visit her soon.”

  Melody and Janie exchanged glances. Sure he will.

  He cleared his throat. “This will take about another five minutes to set. I’ll return with your pain medication prescription, instructions, and the crutches. Stay put, now.” He winked in the same manner the emergency doc did. Must be part of their training in bedside manners.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Janie emerged, wrapped in Velcro bandages around the fiberglass splint and wobbling on crutches. The tech followed behind, his arms wide to catch her if she toppled backwards. Melody back stepped in front of her, ready to grab her if she tilted too far forward. In Janie’s mind, the trek to the car—parked in the closest space—seemed at least two miles long. Down the handicapped ramp she tottered and puffed. Her face inflamed with heat and sweat dribbled down her back, even though a post-rain, post-rain summer breeze rustled the nearby tree leaves.

  At last, she plopped her rear end in the front seat as the orderly swung her leg around to the mat. Melody placed Janie’s purse on the floorboard to prop the heel and clicked the shoulder harness over Janie’s torso.

  As they drove off, Janie’s heart tap danced inside her chest wall. She placed her hand over it. “Okay. First thing in the morning, you are getting that device. I’m too old and out of shape to manage these confounded things.” She slapped the steel sticks resting against the door beside her. “My armpits already ache like crazy.”

  Melody squeezed her hand before returning her attention to the road. “I love you, Mom.”

  Janie’s lips quivered as her eyes dampened. “I know, dear. I know.” She turned away.

  How can I help your husband solve this case now?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You did what?” Betsy Ann’s voice shrilled over the speaker phone. “Oh, my goodness. What can I do?”

  Janie rolled her eyes to keep from sighing. Betsy Ann hung the moon as far as sweet, good-intention friends came, but she had a tendency to hover and be dramatic. “Hmmm, some of your tomato bisque soup would be lovely. Make enough for Mel, she is staying with me through the afternoon.”

  Her voice elevated. “Glad to, and I’ll bring those little round crackers you love. How about some chicken salad with pecans, celery, apples, and grapes?”

  “Perfect, thanks. Don’t bother ringing the bell. Come on around back. The door to the kitchen will be unlocked. I’m sequestered on the couch.”

  Melody handed her a steaming cup of vanilla chai tea as she bent toward the phone. “Howdy, Betsy Ann.”

  Janie pulled it away from her ear. “She says ‘hi’ back.”

  Next, she called Ethel, which started the avalanche of calls, casseroles and clucks as word spread through the Bunco Biddies. Melody withered after the first hour of answering the door and acting as hostess to all the well-wishers. At last, only Betsy Ann, laden with soup and salad, and Ethel with fresh, warm-from-the oven banana bread remained.

  “Mom, you rest. It’s been a busy morning. I’m heading for the durable equipment shop. They show one for only $79.99, and he will bill Medicare since the doctor wrote a script.” She slung her purse onto her arm, and from the tight pull on her forehead muscles, appeared anxious to exit.

  Janie waved. “These ladies will keep an eye on me. Promise I won’t let them take me dancing.”

  Ethel and Betsy Ann nodded.

  Melody scrunched her mouth to one side. “Okay. Remember to take your pain pill at eleven.” She swiveled to the visitors. “And one or both of you help her if she needs to go to the restroom. She is still wobbly on those crutches.”

  With a chin-jerk for emphasis, she left.

  Ethel let out a nervous chuckle. “Wow, is she ever a tough nanny!”

  Janie smoothed the quilt draped over her leg. “She’s worried. Afraid this is the beginning.”

  The other two exchanged looks.

  Betsy Ann reached over and took her hand. “We all fear that, hon. However, this was just a stupid accident. Could happen to anyone with a pet.”

  Janie scanned the room. “Where is my nemesis anyway?”

  Ethel crossed her arms. “Hiding under the bed in penitence?”

  Her mistress knew better. “Not in a million years. Mrs. Fluffy most likely blames me for being in her way.”

  The three fell silent for a moment as the mantle clock ticked away the time. After a while, Ethel broke the stillness. “What do you want to do about the investigation?”

  Janie scooted up on her pillows. “Continue, of course. Despite my injury, the game’s still...ahem, afoot.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  A sly grin curled Ethel’s lips. “Well said. So how do you wish to proceed?”

  “Since I’m laid up, why don’t y’all hand over your court transcripts along with any notes. I’ll take over the task while you, who can walk, continue to figure out Edwin’s last two days on this earth. Surely someone sighted something.” She yawned.

  “Take a wee cat nap, honey. I’ll go get mine and be back in a jiffy.” Betsy Ann stood and bent over Janie to wipe a curl from her brow.

  Ethel reached in her bag. “I’ll sit here quiet as a mouse and read. Gotta new mystery from the library where the woman’s been stabbed twenty-two times, one for each year she’s been alive.”

  Janie sighed and closed her eyes, thanking God for her quirky and loving friends.

  * * *

  Tummy filled with tomato soup and chicken salad, Janie took her second nap of the day as Melody did a load of laundry before leaving later that afternoon. The bent-knee thingy worked oh so much better than crutches, which helped Janie prove she could maneuver without anyone hovering over her. A bonus? Mrs. Fluffy dashed under furniture each time the contraption came within five feet of her.

  Melody shook her mother’s shoulder with tender care, rousing her from a dreamy, drifting state.

  “Mom, I gotta go. Ethel says she will drop by about four with some reading material you wanted. I’ll leave the back door unlocked for her in case you want to nap some more.”

  Janie stretched her upper torso and reached for her covered tumbler of iced tea, complete with straw. “Thanks, again, Mel. For everything. How would I have managed without you?”

  “Mom, hush. You’d figure out a way.” She kissed her cheek and left.

  At the sound of the click, Janie reached under her pillow and pulled out the report of Lopez’s trial. She balanced her reading glasses on her nose and licked her finger to flip the first page. “Okay, something worthwhile jump out at me.”

  Within fifteen minutes, the papers tumbled to the rug as her eyelids grew heavy again.

  * * *

  A shadow passed over Janie’s face. In her dream state, she swatted as if a fly buzzed her nose. Then the thing darkened and grew wider. A pressure pushed onto her mouth. A hand with a faint odor of...no? Raw meat?

  She thrust her eyes open. A hooded figure dressed in black hovered over her. “Hush. Don’t make a sound. Back off of this body in the dumpster stuff, okay? If you don’t, you will be next.”

  He—she assumed it a male from the low cadence of his voice—released his hand and slapped her hard across the face before she could call out. Shaking and dazed, she lay still while he dashed out of sight. The kitchen door slammed, and the echoing vibrations tinkled the goblets in her dining room hutch. She reared up on her elbows and scanned the room. All seemed in place…except for her psyche.

  First a whimper emerged through her lips. It bubbled into a yell, and burst over her tonsils in a high-pitched scream. She waited. No one rushed to her aid to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. Oh, how she missed Jack. She needed him.

  Her hand trembled as she stretched toward the coffee table for her cell phone and punched in 9-1-1. “Help. A man broke into my home.” Her sentence quivered as the reality seeped into her brain.

  The calming and in-control voice on th
e other end asked a few questions, such as was he still there? Did she feel safe now? Could she give her location? And did she want the police to be summoned?

  “Yes, my-my son-in-law is Blake Johnson,” She inhaled a deep breath to steady her nerves. “He’s Alamoville’s Chief Detective.”

  The operator relayed the message and assured Janie help had been dispatched. “Do you want me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?”

  Janie edged up into a sitting position. “Would you? I’m injured so I can’t walk.”

  “He hurt you?”

  “No, I fell. Yesterday.” She gulped back the lump at the base of her tongue. “Not related. I have this contraption to hobble about, but I feel a little woozy right now.”

  “That’s understandable, ma’am. Just take deep, slow breaths.”

  “Tell them to come around back. I can’t answer the front door because it’s locked.”

  The responder soothed her as they chatted about her foot, her home, and friends. In minutes, sirens wailed, growing in volume as they zoomed closer. They reached a piercing decibel, then shut off with a whoop, whoop. She listened as car doors shut and footsteps scrunched across the miniature lawn. Shadows zipped past her curtains.

  “The kitchen door’s open,” she called out as loud as her parched throat allowed.

  The door whammed open and male footsteps stomped into her house.

  “I’m in here. In the living room.”

  As soon as Blake’s concerned face appeared in her range of vision, the sobs took over.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Blake knelt next to her and enveloped her in his arms as she shook, slobbering on his shoulder like an infant. After a few minutes, she took a gulp of air and patted her eyes with a tissue from a box one of the uniformed officers located. Her son-in-law sat on the edge of the sofa, his eyes on her face.