Flame Series #18: Physician Heal Thy Self

Chapter 12

Poor Gert

Matt stood just outside the telegraph office with the yellow sheet of paper in his hand. It wasn't the good news he had hoped for, but it was interesting, that was for sure.

"What do you have there?" The diminutive redhead popped up behind her dad.

"It's a telegram."

Calleigh wrinkled her nose in a childish grimace. "Aren't you the comedian. What's in it?"

Could you give me a chance to read it?" Matt shook the paper to show his own irritation. "It's from-"

"Barlow!" Calleigh stepped around beside her dad, stretching up on her toes for a closer look at the telegram. "Are they all right?"

"They're fine." Matt surrendered the telegram to the greedy little hands.

"You're having him investigate Darcy Cannon? Really?" She glanced up, only for a second, as her curiosity outweighed her surprise. "It says he's hitting a brick wall, but there is definitely something hidden."

Matt tucked his thumbs in the pockets of his vest. "I know. I did read it, before you so rudely commandeered it." Instead of an apology, he was suddenly bombarded with questions.

"Why are you checking him out? There's no law against being an arrogant ass. Is there? What do you think he did? Is he-"

"CALLEIGH!" He knew that raising his voice was the only way to get her attention. Matt looked down at his daughter, surprised at how much she looked like Hadley when she was reprimanded. "I don't know what he did, that's why I asked Barlow to look into it."

The spirited redhead settled back on her heels. "Well, you must have suspected something." She turned, following his lead as he headed back to the jail.

"He just seemed too preoccupied with Doc. Kitty says it's just admiration, but he's got a look in his eyes. Something I've seen before. Let's not say anything to anyone, because it's just a hunch."

"Well, I don't like him, that's for sure, but I never thought he might be hiding something. I won't say anything, but you will tell me if Barlow finds something?" Another voice, calling to Calleigh, intercepted his answer.

"Little Doc. Marshal." Cater Rollins pulled his rickety wagon up alongside the marshal and his daughter. "I think you both need to come with me, out to Gert Prosper's place."

"What is it, Cater?"

"She's dead." Cater appeared shocked by the discovery.

A puzzled look bounced between Matt and his daughter. "That's a shame, but she's been sick for a long time."

"Yeah, I know that, Marshal…" Cater pushed his hat further back on his head. "…but, it don't look natural to me."

Calleigh glanced up at her dad. "I'll go get the horses."

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Darcy whistled a light little tune, as he walked up Front Street toward the clinic. Normally, Doc Adams was a rock-solid, self-assured man. But these days, his insecurities were overriding his natural instinct. The younger physician was relying on this self-doubt, to worm his way into the old man's confidence. Without Calleigh's knowledge, Doc had actually come to rely upon Cannon's help in the clinic.

The whistling stopped as he entered the office. "Morning, Doc. How are you feeling today?"

He didn't need an answer; he could see the old man deteriorating right in front of him. Darcy also knew that Calleigh was going crazy with tests and telegrams to every specialist within two hundred miles, to no avail.

"I stopped by the Prairie Rose and got a couple of sweet rolls and some coffee." He cleared a space on the small table and set out the breakfast.

"Thank you, Darcy but I'm…just not hungry." Doc felt his stomach roll over at the sight of the food.

"At least drink the coffee. You need the pick-me-up." Darcy was ecstatic when he saw the feeble hand shake, as it tried to retrieve the cup. The marinated toothpicks had worked out better than he had hoped, but they weren't strong enough to maintain the symptoms. With Calleigh gone on rounds all the time, Darcy was close enough to spike the man's coffee, almost daily. Between the drugs and the disparaging comments of his nemesis, Doc was failing fast.

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Matt stood back, while Calleigh checked the old woman's body. It was hard to tell if she had fallen out of the bed, or simply passed out on the floor. "Cater was right, wasn't he? I don't have to be a doctor to see that's not just a heart attack."

Calleigh respectfully touched Gert's face, taking note of the yellow skin and the vomit, crusting around the corner of her mouth. She leaned in closer, detecting an odor. "No, it wasn't a heart attack."

"Calleigh? What is it?" Matt wasn't mistaken when he thought he saw fear in his daughter's eyes. "Is it something contagious?"

"No, it's not contagious." Calleigh rose to her feet. Skillful fingers touched along the various bottles on the bedside table, searching for one in particular. She pulled the tiny cork from the glass and dabbed a tiny bit on the tip of her finger. Calleigh slumped down, as if a thousand pound weight were dropped onto her slender shoulders.

"Calleigh! What is going on?" Matt's tone was sharper than he had intended, as he could sense his daughter's fear.

She handed him the bottle with an explanation. "This isn't an opiate. It's arsenic."

"Poisoned? Gert was poisoned?" Matt took the small vial and waved it under his nose. "I don't smell anything. Are you sure?"

"There is no smell and no taste, but if it were an opiate, it would have a kind of sweet taste." Calleigh stared at her dad, knowing it was time to let him in on the family secret. "Poppy prescribed this for her. Well, not this… but somehow, this is what he sent home with her."

Matt studied the bottle in his hand, as his mind began to put all the pieces into place. "This is somehow connected to what happened to Kitty. I knew something was going on between you and Doc. You've been running yourself ragged, trying to cover the whole county. How sick is he?"

Calleigh took a blanket from the bed and covered the old friend. "I don't know. I can't find anything wrong with him, but he's withering away before my eyes. I know that a man doesn't deteriorate this quickly. We can't tell him about Gert, until we know what happened. Matt, this will destroy him, if he thinks he killed her. He'll just give up. Please, I need more time."

"Wha...we can't..." Images of the man that had assumed the role of a father in his life, flashed into Matt's head, leaving him no choice but to agree. "How do you want to handle it?" he conceded.

"For now, Gert Prosner died of a heart attack. I can throw some big medical words at Cater and he'll believe it."

TBC