Page 69 of Don't Tell Me How to Die

“Absolutely not! I’m a doctor. I can’t walk into the lab and say, ‘Who the hell screwed up this time?’ Especially since you’re not my patient.” She gave me a hug. “You’ll get the results next week. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

She headed up the path toward the hospital.

“That’s the best you can do after four years of medical school?” I called out after her. “‘You’ll be fine’? I want a second opinion.”

She stopped and turned. “Okay! You’ll be crazy! Crazy and fine! It’ll make a great bumper sticker when you run for reelection.”

FORTY-ONE

“Hey, Mom,” Kevin said, when I entered the kitchen the next morning. “Some guy is trashing you and Dad on social media.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “I hope he spelled our names right.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Kevin said, putting on his most adorable sad face. “No names. It just says, ‘The blatantly suspicious drowning of former mayoral candidate Minna Schultz was the culmination of a heavily funded, well-executed corporate and political plot to silence her tenacious environmental efforts.’”

“Well, that sucks,” Alex said, joining the fun. “It’s too vague. This town is full of corporate and political villains. How are people supposed to know the Dunns done did the deed?”

Katie slammed her hands on the table and jumped up. “You people sicken me! That poor woman gave her life so that the privileged among us could forever have a spectacular view of Magic Pond. I’m done being a Dunn. I’m changing my last name!”

“To what, you ungrateful child?” Alex snapped.

“Schultz!” She tossed her hair defiantly and stormed out of the room.

“Aaaaaaaaand scene!” Kevin called out.

Katie pranced back into the room, throwing kisses and taking bows, while the rest of us applauded.

And that was that.

Within minutes, my kids were off to school, my husband was back in Alex World, and I was in the car on the way to work. But that impromptu little tableau had touched a nerve. When the four of us were actually under the same roof and in the same room together, we were the happiest family in the world.

I should have been overwhelmed with gratitude. But one ugly thought kept getting in the way.Who would take my place when I was gone?

Fortunately, the aftermath of the death of my political rival kept me so busy that I had no time to pay attention to my demons.

At 4:00 p.m., the chief came to my office with an update on the investigation.

“Good afternoon, Madam Mayor,” he said, lowering himself into the barely comfortable government-issue side chair across from my desk.

He was in great shape for a forty-five-year-old man. Tall, lean, no sign of middle-age paunch, a full head of closely cropped silver-gray hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and an affable smile. According to Lizzie, who knows everything about everybody, he was “happily divorced after twenty years of marriage, but not dating, and not really looking.”

“Good afternoon, Chief,” I said. “You’re smiling.”

“It’s my way of throwing people off. It’s a little trick my dad taught me years ago.”

“And how is Judge Vanderbergen these days?”

“He’s doing his best to navigate retirement. He spent the winter driving my mom nuts. Now that spring is here, he’ll go up to the cabin and annoy the hell out of the fish. Mom loves to tell everyone that they have something between them that does wonders for their marriage.” He paused. “Two hundred miles of New York State Thruway.”

I laughed. “Send your parents my best. So... what have you got?”

“Minna Schultz’s lungs contained pond water.”

“So she was alive when she went in,” I said.

“That’s correct. The ME has concluded that the cause of death was consistent with drowning. She also did a quick tox that showed traces of clonazepam in Minna’s system. Not enough to kill her, but it’s common for people who are hell-bent on drowning to pop pills so they lose consciousness once they hit the drink. Otherwise, their survival instincts would kick in and they’d fight to stay alive.

“We searched her house and found a bottle of Klonopin. The prescribing doc was Ezra Perkins. I swung by his office, and he told me he’s been treating her for depression and anxiety for years. She went into a tailspin when she lost the election and the townhouse project went south. I got a statement from Dr. Perkins, took it to the ME, and she said we have no proof that Minna took the pills on her own.”

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