Rest in Pieces by Katie Graykowski Page A

the poster board.
    “I got nothing.” Monica chewed on her bottom lip as she shook her head. “I can’t think of a single way any of this is useful.”
    Haley drummed her perfectly manicured fingernails on the tabletop. “Me either. What do hoarding, lima beans, one tree, and a head with no body all have in common?”
    She looked at me and then at Monica.
    “No idea.” Monica shook her head some more. “How about we take a look at those medical records.”
    I reached behind me to get my leather shoulder bag from the chair back where I’d looped it when I got home. I steadied it on my lap, unzipped it, and pulled out the stack of papers that was Molly’s entire medical history. I plopped it down on top of the poster board and said, “Here’s everything.”
    The files were in order by doctor. Each doctor’s office was binder clipped together. I broke the stack into three smaller stacks and handed a stack to each of my friends.
    “I haven’t been through all of the records, but I did find something strange when calling around to get the records. Molly used only doctors outside of Lakeside. Well, except for her pediatrician, but I guess she really didn’t get to choose that.”
    “That is odd.” Haley unclipped part of her stack. “She might not have wanted the small world of Lakeside to know everything about her. I can see that. She was the kindergarten teacher. Going to a doctor out here wouldn’t be private. Sure, the government has cracked down on patient privacy, but gossip is gossip. I know Daniel’s fired more than one employee for talking about patients.”
    “I can’t blame her.” Monica unclipped her top stack of papers. “It’s not a bad idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
    Haley drained her wine, grabbed the bottle, and poured more. “I wish I had, too.”
    An hour later, we were out of wine and hadn’t found a damn thing. I stretched and yawned, then clipped the really boring ankle op report to its equally boring orthopedic note friends. I moved on to Enos Women’s Health.
    Unlike most medical records, Enos Women’s Health’s were backwards—meaning that they went in chronological order from oldest to newest instead of newest to oldest, but they were computer generated, which made reading them easy. It was still amazing that in today’s technology driven society, lots of medical records were still hand–written.
    I started on page one and skimmed. Apparently Molly went to the gynecologist for her annual visit like clockwork. Her paps were normal, her breast exams normal, I almost fell asleep. It was on the next to last page and I almost missed it.
    I checked the date. Two months ago…two months ago, Molly had a positive pregnancy test. I flipped the page. It was a blood test from Lakeside Regional. She’d gone to the emergency room with pelvic pain so they’d run a blood test. Her hCG levels were very high. I flipped the page. That was it. There was nothing else.
    I dropped the papers and sat back.
    “Y’all aren’t going to believe this.” Why hadn’t she told me? She would have been a little over two months gone. Had she lost the baby? It was too early for me to notice a baby bump. “Molly was pregnant.”
    Haley sat up. “What?”
    I picked up the clump of papers from Enos Women’s Health. “It’s right here. She was pregnant.”
    “Homicide is the leading cause of death in pregnant women.” Monica looked stunned. “It’s something like twenty percent of women who die during pregnancy are murdered.” Her gaze found me. “And most are murdered by their significant other.”
    “She was seeing Dick Stevensen.” Or as the town liked to call him, Dr. Dick. He was our friendly neighborhood ophthalmologist, though blessed with pretty perfect vision, I’d never met him. “You know, I do need to get my eyes checked.”
    “I’m not so sure you should go alone.” Haley looked worried. “He’s not a very nice man.”
    “Hence the reason we call him Dr. Dick.”