“I don’t think they’ll drown. There are lifeguards here. You wanna talk?”
I did, but maybe not while she was on swim-duty. “Later.”
“You could meet us at the ice cream cart in the park in half an hour.”
“Fine, but I’m buying.”
“You don’t have to.”
“How else am I going to worm my way into your children’s hearts?” Huey, Dewey, and Louie—my pet names for them—were the most adorable children on the planet.
An hour later, Jane finally arrived at the ice cream cart in the park, looking haggard, toting three kids who looked like their Energizer batteries still had way too much life in them. I took orders and passed out the pre-wrapped and frozen ice cream cones dipped in chocolate and rolled in nuts, and then they scattered for the slides and swings.
Jane had already found a bench in the shade, where she took a huge bite of her chocolate-dipped nut sundae cone. “Can I get five of these?”
“Sure.” I showed her the stash in my paper bag.
“You know me so well.”
I took one and bit into it, too. “I met Dr. Hotwell. Face-to-scowl.”
“Who was scowling, him or you?”
Probably both of us. “I’m sure he’s still scowling, after I threatened to sue him.”
“You what?”
“Like you said, he deserves to be taken to court for his indirect role in ending Roland’s life early.” Jane had been the one to put me onto the lawsuit line of thinking in the first place. Maybe her pregnant brain had forgotten. “Involuntary manslaughter, malpractice, cruel and unusual punishment, intentional infliction of emotional harm. I was like Jerry Springer, throwing out legal terms. You should have seen me.”
“Sheridan”—Jane reached for a second sundae from the bag—“you do realize you have no standing for such an action. You aren’t related to the deceased.”
Luke Hotwell had said the same type of thing when he was shutting me down. “No, but we were friends. He wasn’t just my client.”
“You went to see him on Wednesday.” Jane took another big bite. “You heard about the attack at the hospital, right? It could have been you in the parking garage getting whacked.”
“Me!”
“Well, the attack did seem random. It could have easily been you.”
Why would she say that? Then again, I didn’t know anything except the scantly detailed article Tilly had shared. “Have you heard something concrete about what happened?”
Fortunately—or unfortunately—Jane had access to a better source, the county courthouse gossip circles. “What I heard was that a doctor was attacked by a weirdo in a ski mask on his way out to his car. You probably saw on the news that it involved a pipe wrench and a dark parking garage. What I heard is the assailant ran off when two other doctors approached.”
“Oh, how fortunate for the victim to have doctors happen upon him to help him right away.”
“Mmm-huh.” Jane did one of her frown-smirks and raised a brow. “It would’ve been fortunate if those doctors had helped him. But security cameras show them laughing at him and taking off.”
“No!” Wasn’t that against their hippocampus oath, or whatever it was called? Hippocratic. Something Greek.
“I shouldn’t have told you this much. At least I didn’t leak the identity of the victim.” Jane took another bite, finishing the cone. “Consider it confidential, all right?”
“Of course.” I crossed my heart. “Not even Mom and Dad.”
Jane nodded. “I’m coming to their party tonight. Are you helping prepare for that?”
“Did it all last night. Every single thing is set, from the decorations to the DJ to the caterer. Ready to party like it’s forty years ago.”
“Ah, the eighties.” Jane mimed a Saturday Night Fever finger-pointing dance that was about a decade off. “Your parents are hashtag-goals for me and Joey.” She sighed, her hand straying to her protruding belly.