Hoping to start afresh, Dr. Zachary Auckerman moves to a northern Canadian town in desperate need of a doctor. Within days of his arrival, he stumbles onto suspicious deaths and illegal activities at the nursing home, and encounters a fascinating female plumber with a spunky personality and six fingers on her left hand.

     After suffering an injury fixing a toilet tank, Willow Mitchell falls for the new doctor who stitched her hand and called her to thaw his frozen pipes.

     The murder of her mother, a woman who seduced and extorted men, prompts Willow to dig into her past and seek her father’s identity, but the secrets surrounding her birth are buried deep in old medical files and locked in the ravaged mind of her grandmother who lives at the nursing home.

     Amid rumors, lies, deceit, and betrayal, Willow and Zachary hunt for the truth, unleashing deadly events that threaten their lives. Can they trust their hearts, and each other, before one of them becomes the next victim?

Excerpt:

Knowing every death upset her grandmother, whether the victim had been a mere acquaintance or a long-time friend, Willow drove to the nursing home following her visit to the hospital.

From what she’d gathered talking to Nurse Angela, Willow had missed Dr. Auckerman by a few minutes, but he’d looked into Nana’s meds and wanted to examine her. His course of action pleased Willow but learning about the death of another resident had put a damper on the good news.

Fourth death in a month. What are the odds?

Granted, the average age of the residents revolved around ninety years old, but the three previous deaths had involved able-bodied residents living on the second floor. These residents shouldn’t have expired without warning.

Nurse Angela hadn’t provided the name of the latest victim, so Willow counted on Nana to give her more details.

“Nana? Who am I kidding?” According to her grandmother, a woman was strangled by the ghost of her husband, another woman was hit by a snowmobile, and a man fell overboard and drowned. “Nana’s imagination shows no boundaries or ties to reality.”

As Willow parked in a visitor’s stall of the nursing home, she glimpsed the doctor’s light blue-green SUV leaving the parking lot. I guess I missed him again...

Bottling up her disconcerting disappointment, Willow walked into the old building. In the entryway, a numeric keypad was affixed to the wall, but it hadn’t functioned in years, or so she learned from her grandmother’s neighbor, a gentleman named Alphonse. Anyone could enter or leave without being monitored or seen.

The lobby was deserted, Elisabeth’s office door was closed, and the lights in the narrow corridor were dimmed. How two wheelchairs could cross each other without colliding was a mystery Willow had no intention of solving tonight.

She didn’t encounter a soul on her way to her grandmother’s bedroom on the second floor, but she heard wailing and moaning coming from behind a few closed doors.

No wonder Nana is hallucinating ghosts. The building should have been demolished then reconstructed instead of being converted and refurbished. Disheartened by the way Elisabeth managed the place, Willow knocked on her grandmother’s door and waited.

When no one answered, she used her key to unlock. “Nana? It’s Willow. Are you up?”

A light shone in the room. Her grandmother sat motionless in her rocking chair, holding on to a cup with both hands.

Saddened to see Nana wear the same nightgown as yesterday, Willow pried the empty cup from the bony fingers curved with arthritis. A smidge of liquid pooled at the bottom of the cup. She brought it to her nose and sniffed. “Rum?”

“I’m not crazy. I’m not old.” The chair creaked. “And I’m not drunk.”

Startled by the sudden exclamation, Willow placed the cup on the night table. “Who gave you rum, Nana?”

Nana rocked back and forth, staring at the ceiling. “The drug dealer.”

“Who?” When did you start hallucinating about a drug dealer?

“He stabbed Alphonse.” A lone tear snaked down the ridges of Nana’s withered face. “I want to go to bed.”

Surprised to hear Alphonse’s name, Willow gripped both armrests to stop the chair from rocking, then knelt in front of her grandmother. “Did something happen to your neighbor Alphonse? Is he the person who died tonight?”

“Alphonse always gave me his brownie at supper.” Her grandmother pouted. “I want brownies.”

A forlorn sigh died in Willow’s chest. “First, let’s get you into a nice warm bath.”

Nana disliked taking a bath, but when she didn’t argue, Willow entered the bathroom to run the water.

The tub was full of toilet paper rolls.