Too Sweet to Die T. Doyle (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖

I grabbed the mobile handset for the desk phone and headed for Mr. Shapiro. His tapioca was too lumpy and he wanted Jell-O instead. I returned to the nurses’ station and handed the phone to Eric, our disappearing ward clerk.

“Please have the cafeteria send Jell-O to Mr. Shapiro and don’t leave the desk without telling me first.”

“’Kay.” Eric didn’t offer an excuse, but he did dial the cafeteria.

The patients were ornery tonight because the cable television stopped working. I didn’t take a break until Marabel found me in Mrs. Northcomb’s room three hours later.

“Have you taken a dinner break yet?” Marabel leaned against the doorjamb, looking tired.

“Not yet.” I said good night to Mrs. Northcomb and joined Marabel in the hallway. “I guess the meeting with the police didn’t go well?”

The tight-lipped head shake reminded me to be grateful that I never went into management. “I can’t talk about it, but we are getting more security cameras installed.” She patted my arm. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Go ahead and take your dinner break.” Marabel walked with me to the nurses’ station.

I grabbed my lunch bag and Oscar’s mail from the drawer. “See you in thirty.”

Marabel nodded from behind the desk.

I knocked on Jenny McGuffin’s door.

“Come in.” Jenny’s voice sounded strong and alert.

“Good evening.” I swung the door open.

Jenny sat in her reclining chair watching Murder She Wrote. A new DVD player was hooked up to Jenny’s TV, and the complete DVD boxed set of Murder She Wrote sat on top of it, next to the complete Columbo, and Streets of San Francisco. Ray had pulled a chair from the kitchen table next to her. He gave me a chin nod. “She wanted to dine in.” He pointed to the empty tray at her table.

“I hoped you’d still be here. I’ve got thirty minutes for dinner.” I put my lunch bag on the table and dragged the other kitchen chair next to Ray’s. I sat and sorted through the mail. “Why would Sally Mae mail Oscar if he’s still in school?”

“We could find out if you opened it.” Ray looked at the envelope and put his hand behind his ear. “Did you hear that? It’s asking to be opened.”

“I’m not opening it.” I put the envelope on my lap and sorted through the rest of the mail. No bills, but then everything was online now, making the letter from Sallie Mae even more curious.

“What did you find out about Parker?” I asked Ray.

Ray crossed his arms and slid his gaze to his mom. “Ma actually figured it out. You mentioned the LARPing and I told Ma.”

Jenny looked like a hen settling into her nest. Instead of preening feathers, she fluffed the fleece blanket on her lap. “I overheard Mildred talking to Deanne Eddleston. Mildred was saying that Parker was one card short of a full deck, and Deanne told her she was blind in one eye and couldn’t see out the other.”

It took a moment for me to translate her insults. Basically, Mildred thought Parker was a fool, but Deanne thought Mildred was the fool.

Jenny continued, “Mildred was set to fuss, but Deanne told her that Parker’s famous on the internet for all those games he plays. He’s some kind of genius, knows all the tricks for those games.” Jenny slapped her thigh. “Get this, people pay to watch Parker on YouTube.”

“Well, that’s unexpected.” I looked to Ray for confirmation.

Ray waggled his eyebrows. “Ma’s amazing. I checked it out and Parker’s got a YouTube channel with over a million subscribers, he’s got sponsors, and he’s a headliner at some of those ComicCon things he goes to.”

“Really?” My voice squeaked out. “He’s so–”

“He’s always been a little different,” Ray explained. “Smart, but different. I get why he figured nobody here would appreciate his other skills.”

“Sure. You don’t expect the guy filling your prescriptions to be making his real money on playing a computer game.” I flipped through more of Oscar’s mail, separating out the junk mail.

“I don’t get it,” Jenny said.

Ray patted her knee. “And that’s okay, Ma. It is what it is.”

“What did Christine Scottman have to say?” I continued to sort through the mail.

“Oscar was quiet, he was a good player and learning fast. He wanted to go to Vegas, but that would require a better ranking and money. She thought he was playing to raise money for tournaments because he didn’t have any sponsors.” Ray sighed. “I think she’s a dead end.”

I flashed Ray a cream envelope with Stevens College’s return address. “This one’s from his school.”

Ray snagged both letters and held them up to the light.

“That’s not going to work,” Jenny said. “Here, let me help.” Her boney hand grabbed them and tore them open.

“That’s not your mail, Mom,” Ray said with no conviction.

“My room. My mail.” Jenny pulled the papers out from the Sallie Mae envelope. She patted on top of her head and continued patting down her face to her chest until she found the necklace attached to her reading glasses around her neck.

Ray scooted closer and read over his mom’s shoulder. “Oscar owes twelve grand in student loans.”

My brain tingled. “That was the first number in the note we found. It said 12K SL in parenthesis. SL is student loans.”

Ray’s gaze swiveled to me. “Did you bring the note with you?”

“No.” I pointed to the school envelope. “Jenny, what does that one say?”

She squinted through the smudged lenses of her glasses. “It says he withdrew from his classes too late and still owes money.” Jenny handed the paper to Ray.

Ray scratched his beard, the hairs going all out of place. “Obviously, Oscar needed money.”

I clenched my hands to stop myself from fixing Ray’s crazy beard hairs. “Okay. And he quit school. Why hadn’t he told me he quit school? And did he need money first and then quit school?” I couldn’t think of a reasonable scenario where Oscar would want to quit school. He’d seemed so determined to get