Free Pushing Murder by Eleanor Boylan

course you yourself are still a threat to him.”
    â€œYes.”
    The door opened, and Dan put his head in. “Want some breakfast?”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    He smiled at Dr. Cullen and closed the door.
    She stood up. “I’d do anything in the world to help.”
    â€œThank you. For one thing, you can let me dispense with the bedpan.”
    â€œOkay. If you’ll be careful and let a nurse help you up.”
    â€œAnd don’t jab me with any more of that sleep stuff.”
    â€œPromise.” She squeezed my hand. “You’ll probably doze off once more. I’ve stopped all calls till noon. You’ll be fine by then.”
    â€œAnd if you really want to help, you can let me go home today.”
    She smiled and walked to the door. “I don’t believe I’ve told you that my father was a New York City police officer.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œBelieve me, you’re a lot safer here than you would be at home.”
    I said ungraciously, “Is that the police officer’s daughter speaking or the doctor in cahoots with my family?”
    Now she laughed. “Some of both.”
    *   *   *
    Dr. Cullen was right; I woke up refreshed and hungry. Lunch trays rattled in the hall. I hobbled to the bathroom—the heck with the nurse—hobbled back to bed, and was pouring myself the last of Sadd’s tank car when Dan came in with steaming soup and a salad.
    â€œWonderful,” I said, tackling the soup. “Dan, we need a conference.”
    â€œYes. Henry and Kit are both coming in.”
    He went out, and I settled back to answer a series of five phone calls in quick succession.
    Henry’s was the first. “You sound better, Mom. I hope I didn’t upset you further by emphasizing Sal’s danger.”
    â€œOf course not, dear. If I hadn’t been so punchy, I’d have realized it sooner. It’s frustrating—but no police yet.”
    â€œMeanwhile you can work on Do It Yourself. You’ve done it before.”
    â€œBut I’m stuck here till Christmas Eve! Dr. Cullen won’t let me out! Do I detect your fine hand—”
    â€œLook—lie back and play Nero Wolfe. We’ll all play Archie. We might even bring you orchids. See you later.”
    Second call. “Mrs. Gamadge, this is Kit. Are you okay? Can you handle some brainstorming this afternoon?”
    â€œI sure can. And speaking of handling things—thanks for last night.”
    â€œHen and Danny hit it off great. Be seeing you.”
    Third call. “Clara, I’m mad and jealous.”
    â€œWhy, Tina?”
    â€œBecause Henry is taking today and tomorrow off, and he and Kit and Dan will be huddling with you, and I’m stuck in the office. Er—one more thing. Sal just called me.”
    My mouth went a little dry. “At the office?”
    â€œYes. She said she’d tried the hospital and you weren’t allowed calls this morning and she had an awful feeling she knew why. You’d heard about that woman who was murdered, and she was a friend of both of yours, and you were probably devastated.”
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    â€œI said yes, you certainly were devastated, and it would be best if she not try to call you right away.”
    â€œBless you, Tina.”
    The fourth caller was Sadd. “Have you pulled yourself together?”
    â€œI was never apart,” I said indignantly.
    â€œI almost was. After I delivered Hen to Kit’s mother, I walked back toward the chapel, and I wish I hadn’t. They were carting your poor friend out.”
    â€œOh, God, Sadd, why did you go near the place?”
    â€œI didn’t go near it—I wasn’t allowed to. Actually, all I wanted to do was duck in that little library. I saw a book there yesterday I wanted to borrow.”
    Death and disaster strike, and Sadd wants to borrow a book.
    He went on, “I’m on my way