Free The Extinguished Guest (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 2) by Jeanne Glidewell

remind myself to
     keep my mouth shut because there was nothing more annoying than an ex-smoker expounding
     on the stupidity of smoking.
    I wondered who, beside Boris, could have deposited ashes in Horatio's ashtray. I was
     trying to think back to earlier in the evening and visualize exactly what had happened
     and in exactly what sequence. I was having trouble thinking through the fog filtering
     into my mind. The medication dripping into my IV tube was beginning to take effect.
    "I also remember the coffee took on a bitter taste after I retrieved the cup from
     the sofa table," I said, after a lengthy interval.
    "And you continued to drink it?" Wendy asked incredulously.
    "Yes, I did—out of habit, I suppose. I was distracted by other things at the time
     and attributed the unusual taste to the fact I'd been drinking so much of the stuff
     all day long. Strong coffee can be a mite bitter all on its own, you know."
    Wendy and Stone were both looking at me as if I were one goose short of a gaggle,
     so I decided to lie back down to rest for a moment. In my current condition, it took
     too much effort to try to convince them I was not losing my mind. I closed my heavy
     eyelids and swallowed the melted ice accumulating in the back of my throat. Stone
     squeezed behind the hospital bed and began to knead the taut muscles in my neck and
     shoulders.
    "Who could feel threatened enough by my simple questioning to attempt to kill me?"
     I asked. Neither Stone nor Wendy replied, so I wasn't sure I'd even asked the question
     out loud. I was feeling more and more relaxed from the medicine and from the hypnotizing
     feel of Stone's hand rubbing the tension out of my upper body.
    Could it be a guest I hadn't found the time to question yet? I wondered. Maybe someone
     who didn't want to be questioned by a nosy, interfering servant? It was my last conscious
     thought before I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 
     
     
    Chapter 7

     
    I was released from the hospital at about noon on Tuesday. I left with a long list
     of instructions that included returning to the ER if any of my symptoms worsened or
     if any new ones developed.
    As the male nurse wheeled me to the front vestibule, Stone walked along beside the
     wheelchair carrying my coat and fanny pack. He'd arrived at the hospital just as I
     was signing the release form.
    "Anything new?" I asked.
    "A few things," he said. "I'll bring you up to date on the way back to the inn."
    I knew Stone didn't want to say anything in the presence of the nurse, so I changed
     the subject to something more mundane. The weather was always a good subject when
     one wanted to make idle chatter. "Snow's all gone, I see. I hope yesterday's snowfall
     was winter's last gasp and spring is just around the corner. Maybe this was the last
     major winter storm we'll have this season."
    "Could be, but I doubt it. More snow is predicted for tonight. Quite a lot of it,
     they're now predicting. The forecast gets more intimidating every time the weatherman
     revises it."
    After assisting me as I climbed into the passenger seat of a silver Chevy Cavalier,
     Stone took his place behind the steering wheel and prepared to drive the car out of
     the parking lot.
    "I borrowed Tony's car," he said, as he turned toward me to help me fasten my seat
     belt. "My car is at the dealership getting an oil change and a tune-up, and your Jeep's
     gas gauge was on empty. I will fill it up for you this afternoon."
    "Thanks! Who's Tony?"
    "Oh, you know. The Italian-looking guy on the remodeling crew with the ponytail and
     earring. He's the one who promised to take me crappie fishing at Perry Lake this spring."
    "Oh, sure. He's the painter. I'd forgotten his name was Tony. I think he looks Italian
     because he is Italian. His last name is Morelli, if I remember right. He told me his grandparents
     still live in Sicily. Anyway, it was nice of him to loan you his car and thoughtful
     of you to ask him if you could borrow