Murder Takes a Dare: The First Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 1) by Jada Ryker Page B
Authors: Jada Ryker
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dilapidated, strutting old rooster, fawning and slobbering over him like he was the king of the henhouse?”
Surprised at the sudden twist in the conversation, Marisa pushed her frightening thoughts away and focused on her friend. Automatically, she followed Althea’s angry gaze. Across the patio, a mild disturbance was taking place at the patio doors.
A trio of elderly ladies, all dressed in the finery of bright colors and glittering jewelry, erupted through the doorway with the aid of wheelchair, walker, and cane. They were hard on the heels of the dapper figure of an older gentleman with a magnificent wooden cane at his side. Like determined birds of prey, each female seemed intent on bagging him as a companion. One of the more aggressive women eliminated one of the competitors by simply sending her wheelchair careening across the patio. At the same time, the two remaining ladies managed to snag a blue-jacketed arm. They began to pull him in two different directions.
Marisa’s eyes sharpened. As the victor of the little skirmish practically wrestled the older man onto a bench, Marisa realized the glorious head of silver hair looked terribly familiar. She remembered he’d been a patient in the rehab wing of the hospital, but she’d thought he had been discharged to his home. “He seems to be in great demand. Of course, he’s quite dashing,” mused Marisa, “and very handsome with his full head of silvery hair and the striking profile. In fact, if I were much older, I’d certainly be feeling some heart palpitations right about now.”
“For goodness sake, Marisa, don’t let him hear that. His head is so swelled now, it’s a wonder he can fit through the door.”
Marisa’s eyebrows rose. It wasn’t like Althea to speak so harshly of anyone. Marisa wondered if Althea felt the same tug of attraction as the other ladies. She shook her head at her whimsy.
As the dusk deepened into darkness and the patio lights flared into life, a sudden warm breeze danced across the patio. Marisa leaned against Althea’s thin, sweater-clad arm, and allowed the companionable silence to seep into her bones. Feeling the warmth and the love of the thin figure next to her, Marisa realized she’d nearly regained her equilibrium.
The evening had nearly slipped away from them. The soothing song of the crickets filled the evening air, and Marisa could see the bright yellow dots of fireflies on the shadowy grounds.
Presently, Marisa rose. “Would you like a glass of tea before I leave, Althea?”
Returning with a glass in each hand and using her elbow to operate the automatic door button, Marisa heard the low, neutral tones of the figure in white next to her friend.
“Good evening, Mrs. Flaxton. It’s a fine, summer night. Do you want to take your pills here or go to your room first?”
Not wanting to interrupt Althea and her nurse, Marisa paused, the glasses cold in her hands.
“You’re a very lucky woman, Mrs. Flaxton.”
Althea cocked her head.
In the near darkness, the nurse’s cap of short red hair looked dark and her white uniform glowed. “You’re lucky. Soon, you will return home. You won’t lie here, month after month, year after year, waiting for the angel of death to come and claim you.”
“Angel of death?” Althea’s voice rose in surprise.
“The black shadow of the angel of death swoops through the night. She gathers the soul of the dying to her bosom, and transports it to a sun-filled plane where pain and suffering do not exist.” The soft, monotone voice was nearly mesmerizing.
“I assure you, Ms. Crimpton, I have plenty of productive years remaining in my life.”
“I was thinking more of the poor souls who are terminally ill, their lives prolonged solely to salve the conscience of the physician and the family. They are forced to spend their remaining time in pain.”
“What a dark view for the caregiver of geriatric patients.”
At Marisa’s dry tone, the nurse jerked in surprise.
Surprised at the sudden twist in the conversation, Marisa pushed her frightening thoughts away and focused on her friend. Automatically, she followed Althea’s angry gaze. Across the patio, a mild disturbance was taking place at the patio doors.
A trio of elderly ladies, all dressed in the finery of bright colors and glittering jewelry, erupted through the doorway with the aid of wheelchair, walker, and cane. They were hard on the heels of the dapper figure of an older gentleman with a magnificent wooden cane at his side. Like determined birds of prey, each female seemed intent on bagging him as a companion. One of the more aggressive women eliminated one of the competitors by simply sending her wheelchair careening across the patio. At the same time, the two remaining ladies managed to snag a blue-jacketed arm. They began to pull him in two different directions.
Marisa’s eyes sharpened. As the victor of the little skirmish practically wrestled the older man onto a bench, Marisa realized the glorious head of silver hair looked terribly familiar. She remembered he’d been a patient in the rehab wing of the hospital, but she’d thought he had been discharged to his home. “He seems to be in great demand. Of course, he’s quite dashing,” mused Marisa, “and very handsome with his full head of silvery hair and the striking profile. In fact, if I were much older, I’d certainly be feeling some heart palpitations right about now.”
“For goodness sake, Marisa, don’t let him hear that. His head is so swelled now, it’s a wonder he can fit through the door.”
Marisa’s eyebrows rose. It wasn’t like Althea to speak so harshly of anyone. Marisa wondered if Althea felt the same tug of attraction as the other ladies. She shook her head at her whimsy.
As the dusk deepened into darkness and the patio lights flared into life, a sudden warm breeze danced across the patio. Marisa leaned against Althea’s thin, sweater-clad arm, and allowed the companionable silence to seep into her bones. Feeling the warmth and the love of the thin figure next to her, Marisa realized she’d nearly regained her equilibrium.
The evening had nearly slipped away from them. The soothing song of the crickets filled the evening air, and Marisa could see the bright yellow dots of fireflies on the shadowy grounds.
Presently, Marisa rose. “Would you like a glass of tea before I leave, Althea?”
Returning with a glass in each hand and using her elbow to operate the automatic door button, Marisa heard the low, neutral tones of the figure in white next to her friend.
“Good evening, Mrs. Flaxton. It’s a fine, summer night. Do you want to take your pills here or go to your room first?”
Not wanting to interrupt Althea and her nurse, Marisa paused, the glasses cold in her hands.
“You’re a very lucky woman, Mrs. Flaxton.”
Althea cocked her head.
In the near darkness, the nurse’s cap of short red hair looked dark and her white uniform glowed. “You’re lucky. Soon, you will return home. You won’t lie here, month after month, year after year, waiting for the angel of death to come and claim you.”
“Angel of death?” Althea’s voice rose in surprise.
“The black shadow of the angel of death swoops through the night. She gathers the soul of the dying to her bosom, and transports it to a sun-filled plane where pain and suffering do not exist.” The soft, monotone voice was nearly mesmerizing.
“I assure you, Ms. Crimpton, I have plenty of productive years remaining in my life.”
“I was thinking more of the poor souls who are terminally ill, their lives prolonged solely to salve the conscience of the physician and the family. They are forced to spend their remaining time in pain.”
“What a dark view for the caregiver of geriatric patients.”
At Marisa’s dry tone, the nurse jerked in surprise.
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