you heard.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I get Hannah packed up.”
Of course, “as soon as” turned into two hours later, and I toted Hannah into the Greenburg PD front offices. Trouble lay ahead for someone, but I wasn’t sure who. And I had to know what happened to Dr. Bradley in those moments.
Hannah’s appearance brought squeals from the reception area. Fleta made her way around to meet Hannah and me. What was it about people that made them have to touch a baby? Why weren’t they satisfied to admire at a polite distance?
“How’s our little sugar plum today?” Fleta’s voice shot up at least two octaves. A few heads swiveled to look in our direction. The office hummed today, and its activity hiccupped at our appearance.
“Fresh from her nap.” I smiled at Fleta. “Jerry’s expecting me.”
The phone shrilled behind the desk and Fleta darted back behind the counter. “Go on back. It’s been a busy day. Bye, sweety-peety!”
I knew that last squeaked-out remark hadn’t been meant for me. Jerry was on the phone, and hung it up when I entered his office.
“I have five minutes. After that I’ve got a meeting.” He looked tired.
Hannah kicked me in the ribs when I sat down in front of Jerry’s desk, covered with file folders. I winced, and she wiggled. No way would I put her down and let her roam the office. I managed to get the recorder out of my bag, and handed it to Jerry. “You just stick this in your USB port.”
“Okay.” Jerry’s desk chair squeaked as he settled onto it. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.s Um, how do I do this?”
“In the front, there’s a port.” I tugged my chair around to his side of the desk, with another wiggle from Hannah, who’d turned into a catfish on my hip. “Put that in here. And the window will come up with the sound file. It’s the one, Friday’s date, around 6:00 p.m.”
Just like I promised, the window popped up. Jerry moved the mouse and clicked on the sound file. Dr. Bradley’s voice boomed from the speakers.
“Here, he kinds of goes on and on for a while, before he dozes off.”
“Dozes off?” Jerry shook his head.
“Yes. Here. I heard it right about here . . .”
“What exactly am I listening for”
“Listen for the chimes from his desk clock—then Dr. Bradley puts the recorder down. And listen to what happens next.”
The rustling papers. His yawn. Some snores and the murmuring. Quiet, followed by the opening door. Rustling fabric. The grunt. Dr. Bradley crying out. A slamming door. Then nothing. Jerry kept silent.
“Jerry, he wasn’t alone in that office. Someone did . . . did . . . something to him. I don’t know what.”
He clicked the mouse to stop the sound file and looked at me. “You could very well be right.”
I tried not to gape. He agreed. I don’t know why I thought Jerry might balk when he heard my idea, but all the same, I knew I was right about the recording. Hannah wiggled from my lap once more, so I fished in my bag for a cracker. She’d have it all over herself inside of thirty seconds, but I had Wet Wipes in the mammoth bag at my feet.
“So what next?”
“I’ll pass this recording along.”
“There’s private medical information on that.”
“I only need the sounds you mention, and the time. Anything else will not be part of this investigation.”
He gave me the opening I needed. “Do you have any news about the cause of death yet?”
Jerry shook his head. “Too early. And you know I couldn’t tell you if I did.”
“I was just wondering if there was anything suspicious about the way he died.” I glanced down. Hannah had started grinding what was left of her crackers into the carpet.
“Thanks, Andi. This recording will help build a case against whoever did this. I’ll need you to sign a statement, too.”
I grabbed some tissues from my bag and tried to clean up Hannah and her mess. “Sure, not a problem. Glad I could help. I know you have a meeting . . .” Hannah
“I’ll be there as soon as I get Hannah packed up.”
Of course, “as soon as” turned into two hours later, and I toted Hannah into the Greenburg PD front offices. Trouble lay ahead for someone, but I wasn’t sure who. And I had to know what happened to Dr. Bradley in those moments.
Hannah’s appearance brought squeals from the reception area. Fleta made her way around to meet Hannah and me. What was it about people that made them have to touch a baby? Why weren’t they satisfied to admire at a polite distance?
“How’s our little sugar plum today?” Fleta’s voice shot up at least two octaves. A few heads swiveled to look in our direction. The office hummed today, and its activity hiccupped at our appearance.
“Fresh from her nap.” I smiled at Fleta. “Jerry’s expecting me.”
The phone shrilled behind the desk and Fleta darted back behind the counter. “Go on back. It’s been a busy day. Bye, sweety-peety!”
I knew that last squeaked-out remark hadn’t been meant for me. Jerry was on the phone, and hung it up when I entered his office.
“I have five minutes. After that I’ve got a meeting.” He looked tired.
Hannah kicked me in the ribs when I sat down in front of Jerry’s desk, covered with file folders. I winced, and she wiggled. No way would I put her down and let her roam the office. I managed to get the recorder out of my bag, and handed it to Jerry. “You just stick this in your USB port.”
“Okay.” Jerry’s desk chair squeaked as he settled onto it. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.s Um, how do I do this?”
“In the front, there’s a port.” I tugged my chair around to his side of the desk, with another wiggle from Hannah, who’d turned into a catfish on my hip. “Put that in here. And the window will come up with the sound file. It’s the one, Friday’s date, around 6:00 p.m.”
Just like I promised, the window popped up. Jerry moved the mouse and clicked on the sound file. Dr. Bradley’s voice boomed from the speakers.
“Here, he kinds of goes on and on for a while, before he dozes off.”
“Dozes off?” Jerry shook his head.
“Yes. Here. I heard it right about here . . .”
“What exactly am I listening for”
“Listen for the chimes from his desk clock—then Dr. Bradley puts the recorder down. And listen to what happens next.”
The rustling papers. His yawn. Some snores and the murmuring. Quiet, followed by the opening door. Rustling fabric. The grunt. Dr. Bradley crying out. A slamming door. Then nothing. Jerry kept silent.
“Jerry, he wasn’t alone in that office. Someone did . . . did . . . something to him. I don’t know what.”
He clicked the mouse to stop the sound file and looked at me. “You could very well be right.”
I tried not to gape. He agreed. I don’t know why I thought Jerry might balk when he heard my idea, but all the same, I knew I was right about the recording. Hannah wiggled from my lap once more, so I fished in my bag for a cracker. She’d have it all over herself inside of thirty seconds, but I had Wet Wipes in the mammoth bag at my feet.
“So what next?”
“I’ll pass this recording along.”
“There’s private medical information on that.”
“I only need the sounds you mention, and the time. Anything else will not be part of this investigation.”
He gave me the opening I needed. “Do you have any news about the cause of death yet?”
Jerry shook his head. “Too early. And you know I couldn’t tell you if I did.”
“I was just wondering if there was anything suspicious about the way he died.” I glanced down. Hannah had started grinding what was left of her crackers into the carpet.
“Thanks, Andi. This recording will help build a case against whoever did this. I’ll need you to sign a statement, too.”
I grabbed some tissues from my bag and tried to clean up Hannah and her mess. “Sure, not a problem. Glad I could help. I know you have a meeting . . .” Hannah
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