Previously in The Murder of Ted…
Ted glowed red-handed, but suspicion isn’t enough for a conviction…
This week: the biopsy team takes over.
Thank you for joining me on this unexpected, uncozy adventure.
The Murder of Ted
A Series of Unfortunate Events, an Uncozy Adventure
Chapter Three: The Evidence Collection
Every good sleuth knows there comes a point when theories aren’t enough. Eventually, you have to collect the evidence.
Two more days passed, and this time we pulled out the big guns.
My biopsy team. Dr. H and Ms. K stood ready.
My husband and I sat hand in hand in the waiting area. For some reason, my grandparents’ memories fluttered in and out of my thoughts, causing me to tear up slightly. I was missing them heavily at that moment. Wishing they were sitting with me.
Ms. K stepped out. “You can’t cry. I am a crier too.” She smiled, tears welling up.
“No, no I said. “These tears are from distant memories. Let’s get this over with.” I looked back at my husband. “Are you sure he can’t come?” I asked.
He is my sidekick in this story, and sidekicks have an important job. Either keep the sleuth safe or go off the rails with them!
Ms. K, still teary-eyed, said, “There’s no room, but I will hold your hand.”
Assuming sidekick responsibilities was very noble of her.
Armed with only my Rosary wrapped around my wrist and Ms. K’s promise to hold my hand, I quickly kissed my husband goodbye.
“No more hiding, Ted,” I whispered.
Dr. H came prepared to do his forensic duties. There was no way Ted could hide from his expert knife.
Samples were extracted from the mysterious fellow over in Breast Stage Right. He behaved himself once again, for now.
Ms. K. not only performed her emotional support sidekick duties well, she even helped me to see exactly what Ted was up to.
There’s nothing better to a sleuth than when you get a chance to peek at the evidence. Extra points when it’s legal!
Then, to my slight enjoyment, Dr. H punched Ted.
Once.
Twice.
But Ted had changed yet again on the imaging. Apparently, he was attempting an incognito approach. Ted had been moving so fast, trying to outrun us, that he was leaving a trail of destruction in his path.
Dr. H called it necrosis. I called it proof that Ted was on a devious mission.
Great, now I have a mini-Ted graveyard in my boob.
Dr. H looked unimpressed. “No way, Ted, you are taking up entirely way too much real estate,” he said.
Ms. K held my hand. I squeezed it tightly, took in a deep breath.
Dr. H asked, “Are you okay? We need one more.”
I sucked in some air and said, “Hit that jerk again! I can take it.”
Dr. H punched Ted again. Three times total.
“We got good samples,” he said. Reassuring me, probably because I think my face reflected Ted’s after that last punch.
“We’ve got you now, Ted.” Ms. K said as she glanced at the clock.
I felt bad for my poor little lymph node who had done absolutely nothing wrong except his job. He had been collecting Ted’s minions and barricading the highway so they couldn’t escape.
He endured three punches as well.
Ms. K looked at the clock again. “Ted’s last ride to the lab is leaving at 3:30,” she said.
We had to hurry.
Then suddenly, a delay-of-game penalty. The flag was thrown.
I had a reaction: full-body tremors and a fuzzy face. Was it my resident brain tumor breaking our agreement and jumping on the Ted wagon? For one terrifying second, I wondered.
My long-term tenant seemed offended by the accusation. Sorry, buddy. At this point, everyone was a suspect.
Moments later, it became clear it had to be the lidocaine. What else could it be?
My poor biopsy team scrambled to care for me while also making sure the Ted parts made their ride to the lab.
It became a race against the clock.
They called in my husband. My knight to my rescue! He held me upright while they finished the mammogram. The tremors were so strong I couldn’t stand still.
We were down to the wire. Ted’s Uber had arrived. Would he make the last pickup? Ms. K scrambled to package him up.
Ted tried to beat us, but he underestimated this team. The evidence had been submitted.
By the time I got home, the tremors had settled down some. My EMT son checked me over. After hearing everything that had happened, he said, “Mom, it was most likely the lidocaine.” He explained that it may have found its way into one of Ted’s many blood pathways, allowing it to spread through my system much faster than expected.
Flynn wasn’t entirely convinced. Every time my hand started trembling, he reached out with his paw and gently tried to hold it still. Apparently, my fluffy orange medical assistant had his own treatment plan.
Poke, Mom, until she stops jumping around.
Case closed.
My resident brain tumor had honored our agreement after all.
With all the excitement over, the adrenaline finally wore off. Now all there was left to do was wait.
And every mystery writer knows…
Waiting for results may be the hardest chapter of all.
Stay tuned for the next episode of The Murder of Ted. Chapter Four: The Unmasking
While the lab works to uncover Ted’s true identity, the fictional mysteries in Silver Springs are still waiting to be solved. If you’re in the mood for murder without the medical drama, Taryn O’Kelly would love another amateur sleuth on the case.
And don’t forget, the antidote to the uncozy is a cozy mystery.
Until next chapter…
Happy reading.
As always, thanks for stopping by for some Salty Inspirations! -Michelle ❤️
