Mr. Ramkins’s eyes were dark and stormy. He pounded his beefy hand on his desk and raised his voice. “You’re not listening to me. You cannot, I repeat, cannot discuss company business with anyone. Finish out the day, and, starting tomorrow, you will be on a two-week, unpaid leave.”
“You can’t do that,” Linda protested.
“Make up your mind now—two weeks leave or fired.”
“You can’t be serious.” Linda felt an overwhelming urge to laugh in his face.
“That’s it. Pack up your belongings, head down to Human Resources, and leave the building. You’re fired!” His face was now beet red as he gasped for air.
“You can’t fire me. I’ve done nothing wrong!” Linda raised her voice in disbelief.
Mr. Ramkins stood up with difficulty, pointed to the door, and bellowed, “OUT! Or do you want me to call security and have you removed!”
Linda rose defiantly from the chair. “This is not over. I’ll be speaking with the CEO.” She turned and left the office. Please don’t cry, she instructed herself. As she walked down the hall, the office door slammed behind her.
God, this can’t be true. She reached her cubicle and sank down in her chair, dazed. She had never been fired before. What am I going to do? she wondered, feeling a wave of despair.
Just then her computer flashed a message. She opened it and read, “CALL ME TONIGHT, IMPORTANT! 226-1564.” She printed the message and threw it in her purse. Then she signed off her computer, gathered her belongings, walked to Human Resources, signed exit papers, and put one foot in front of the other until she made it to her car. She was waiting to get home to fall apart.
A thunderstorm with torrential rain slowed traffic, but she eventually made it home, parked her car in the driveway, and ran into her house. She threw her purse on the counter, plopped on the couch, and allowed the tears to flow. After ten minutes, she composed herself, took a deep breath, and dialed her husband’s cell phone. He was on a business trip in Cleveland. He was shocked when she told him what had happened at work, since he knew what a loyal, conscientious employee she was.
“Don’t worry, honey,” her husband said sympathetically. “We’ll talk about it when I get home Friday. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”
Linda hung up depressed. She poured herself a glass of Pinot Grigio and remembered the message from her computer. She grabbed the message from her purse, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she decided to call. The number turned out to be from one of her co-workers, Stella Lambert, a perky, buxom, bleached-blonde nurse known for her promiscuous ways. She was the type of girl to have her number on the bathroom wall of some sleazy bar and be proud of it. Stella started by saying how sorry she was that Linda had been fired.
“Wait a minute. Your message was on my computer when I got back to my desk from being fired. How did you know so soon that I got canned?”
Stella then proceeded to tell Linda that she was “involved” with one of the board members of Premier Regional and that she had overheard him talking on the phone. They were discussing getting rid of Linda and some nurse at Northwest General for getting too close to the truth about what the company was up to.
“I was going to warn you, but it was too late,” Stella said.
“I don’t understand. All Kate and I were talking and joking about that we were knocking off our policyholders to make the numbers look good. Oh, my God. Do you think they actually thought we were serious?” Linda asked, perplexed.
Stella paused. “Or, perhaps that’s what the company is doing to get the merger passed.”
Linda didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, “Stella, that’s impossible!”
“Why not? We have all these meetings to cut costs and get tougher on our inpatient stays. Then you get fired for joking around about killing our patients to make us look good so Eastern National will buy us out. And another odd thing . . . this guy I’m screwing—quite often, I might add—gets furious with me for overhearing his conversations. He shouts at me to not repeat a word I heard or that they both would be up the creek with no paddles. When I ask him what he means, he grabs me roughly and tells me to listen up—that we could get worse than fired; we could get wiped out. I ask, “Wiped out?” and he replies, “Killed, you stupid bitch.”
“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Linda stammered, eyes wide with terror. “He must have been kidding, right?”
“I’m telling you, Linda. He was dead serious.”
“Who is this guy?” Linda asked.
“I can’t tell you. He’s married, and if I told, I’d really be in deep shit. Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt. Watch out who you talk to and don’t . . .” The line went dead.
“Stella, hello. Are you there?” Linda redialed Stella’s number several times, getting no answer. Damn it all to hell. What’s going on? Linda shuddered, feeling a sudden chill.
***
A hollow point round exploded through her skull, spraying bloody bone fragments and brain matter all over the wall. Stella Lambert fell to the floor like a giant redwood, not knowing what hit her. The shooter picked up Stella’s cell phone, smashed it, and put in his pocket. He unscrewed the silencer of the gun with gloved hands, ransacked the house, and left Stella’s condo through the back door.
Chapter 20
Linda couldn’t sleep, thinking about her conversation with Stella. She had tried to reach out to Stella all night, but the line was always dead. What should I do? Who can I talk to? She so wished her husband was home so he could advise her.
She picked at her breakfast and showered. Her cell rang and she sprinted to the phone, hoping it was her husband. “Hello?”
An electronic voice said, “If you discuss the conversation you had with Stella Lambert last night with the police or anyone else, your husband won’t return from his business trip from Cleveland, or your parents in Queens might have a tragic accident.”
Linda froze. Her voice trembled. “Who is this?”
“Just know that we are watching your every move.” The line went dead.
Linda sank to the floor. Her stomach churned, and her head spun. She lowered her head into her hands and sobbed. She didn’t know what was going on or why this was happening to her. She sat on the floor for a long time till she was able to pull herself up, made sure the doors and windows were all locked and shades were drawn. Then she contemplated her next move.
Should I call the police? But the voice said they’d kill my husband or my parents. She decided to try to reach Stella at work.
“Hi, this is Phyllis Barnett at Premier Regional. Can I help you?”
“Hi, Phyllis. It’s Linda. I’m looking for Stella.”
“Linda, I’m sorry to hear what happened to you.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe it. Is Stella in?”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we heard this morning, and we are still all in shock.”
Silence filled the space.
“Phyllis, are you still there? What’s wrong?” A bad feeling swept over Linda.
“Stella was shot in her home last night. She’s dead.”
“Oh, my God, NOOOOOO!” Linda screamed and dropped her phone. Her body trembled.
“Linda, are you alright?” Phyllis asked.
Linda picked up her phone and struggled to answer, “I’m here. What happened?” Her voice was barely audible.
“The boss said that the police suspect a robbery.”
“I have to hang up now. Bye.” Linda fought a rising panic and fear. She threw herself on her bed, crawled into a fetal position, and wept for hours, afraid to move. She finally called her husband but was unable to reach him.
She washed off her tear-streaked face and ran her hands through her damp hair. She knew she had to reach someone who could help her figure out what was going on. But who could she trust? After much thought, she rea
ched for her cell and dialed Northwest General.
***
Everyone at Premier Regional Insurance Company was shocked and saddened by the news of Stella’s death. The police had been there all morning asking questions. The CEO made sure all of his people had someone on the board as well as one of the company attorneys in the conference room with them when they were questioned by the police.
Sonya Raditz, the company’s physician advisor, sat in the board room, nervously wringing her hands. What should she tell the police? Especially with the board members and lawyers glaring at her. So she decided it was best to say nothing and discuss this with Larissa later. Together they would decide if they should go to the police. But what did they know? Nothing concrete. Just fragments of conversations. This was not good—first, she had heard that Linda McCarthy was fired, and now Stella Lambert was shot in her home. Something was wrong! Her fears escalated.
***
Later that night, Sonya confided to Larissa what had happened at work that day.
“Oh, my God, Sonya. What did you tell the police?”
“Nothing. I didn’t know what to say. But now I’m worried about Linda McCarthy and Kate Ross. I think you should talk to Kate and I should reach out to Linda,” Sonya said.
“What are we going to tell them? Oh, by the way, girls, we overheard people talking about killing you. Mind you, we are not sure about this, but . . .” Larissa began, irritated.
“I don’t know, Larissa. What should we do? Go to the police?”
“What proof do we have? Maybe we should think on it for now.”
“Let’s not think too long, I’m getting a very bad feeling about this.” Sonya shivered and poured a double vodka on the rocks.
***
The overhead page at Northwest General announced, “Kate Ross, call the operator.”
Kate picked up the phone and dialed the operator. “Hi, this is Kate Ross.”
“I have a call for you. What extension should I forward this call to?”
“I’m at extension 2835. Thanks.” Kate hung up her line and waited for the call to come through. “Hi, this is Kate Ross.”
“Kate, it’s Linda McCarthy from Premier Regional. I need to talk to you,” Linda said, raising her voice.
“Linda, are you all right? I heard you took a leave of absence. What’s wrong? You sound upset.”
“I’m in a shitload of trouble. I don’t know who to turn to. I need help.” Linda started to cry. “I’m so afraid!”
“Linda, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.” Kate was becoming concerned.
“Not on the phone. Can we meet after work? What time do you get off?” Linda asked.
“I’m off at four thirty. Do you want to meet me in the coffee shop here at the hospital?”
“No, I’ll meet you downtown at Cutter’s at five. Please don’t tell anyone you are meeting me, for your own safety.”
“Linda, please tell me what’s going on. What are you so afraid of? You’re starting to scare me.” Now Kate was alarmed.
“You should be scared; you have no idea who we are dealing with. You know more than you realize. Be careful! Remember, tell no one of our meeting. I’ll fill you in when I see you later.” Linda hung up, leaving Kate stunned.
What the hell is going on? Kate wondered, trying to think of what Linda had meant when she said she knew too much. What do I know? She looked at her watch. It was two o’clock. She had three more hours to wait to find out what Linda had to tell her.
Kate had a hard time concentrating the rest of the day. She called her daughter to tell her she’d be late picking her up from Ava’s.
“Don’t rush, Mom. Ava’s mom asked me to stay over again. Can I?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know, honey. You’ve stayed over two nights already.”
“Come on, Mom. We’ve rented some movies and everything. Please! Please!” Megan pleaded.
“I miss you,” Kate replied.
“One more night, Mom?”
“Let me talk to Ava’s mother.”
Megan handed the phone to Ava’s mom. “Hi, Kate. Megan is more than welcome to stay over. The girls are having fun, and it keeps Ava busy, so I don’t have to entertain her.”
“Are you sure?” Kate asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Ok, please put Megan back on the phone. Thanks, and I’ll return the favor and have Ava over to our house one weekend.”
“Anytime,” Ava’s mom replied as she heard her daughter and Ava cheering in the background.
“Right on, Mom! You rock!” Megan called out in a high-pitched voice.
Kate smiled for the first time that afternoon. “I’ll call tomorrow afternoon and let you know what time I can pick you up after work. Have fun, honey. Love you.”
“Ok, Mom. Love you too. Bye.”
Kate sat there for a moment thinking about her daughter and how blessed she was to have Megan in her life. The happy moment vanished when she remembered her conversation with Linda. She wondered again what had made Linda so frightened? Her watch showed one more hour till she would met with Linda and find out what was going on. The anticipation was grueling.
***
“Call our guy. Linda McCarthy has to go. She’s planning on meeting the nurse from Northwest General, Kate Ross, after work today. Linda must not make that meeting.”
Chapter 21
Linda paced the floor for hours waiting for Kate to get off work. She tried throughout the day to reach her husband, but he was tied up in meetings. She finally left him a voice message to call her after seven or eight o’clock that evening. She wanted to talk to him after she’d discussed this nightmare with Kate. She tried to keep her voice calm and not alarm him. Linda hated to involve Kate, but she had to talk with someone, and they had joked about the situation. Some joke!
Linda left the house and decided to drive around for a while in case someone was following her. Her heart raced. How could this happen to me? she wondered. I’m a normal person with a normal life, normal husband, normal job. But now I’m trapped in this TV drama of murder and mayhem. What the hell!
After six o’clock, Linda parked her car across the street from the appointed meeting place. Glancing furtively around to see if anyone was following her, she sighed. Who do I think I’m kidding? I wouldn’t know if anyone was following me or waiting for me if they came up and bit me on the ass.
When she finally got up the courage to leave her car, she looked at her watch and realized she was over an hour late. She hoped Kate had waited for her. She couldn’t help thinking, How I wish my husband was here with me. Why didn’t I interrupt his meeting today? He would know what to do. I can’t wait till Friday to wrap my arms around him and feel safe.
Down the street, a black SUV with tinted windows pulled out from the curb into the street. The driver accelerated to a high speed.
Linda started making her way across the street to her meeting with Kate. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black blur, then felt a second of excruciating pain and pressure before slipping into total darkness.
Chapter 22
Kate had arrived at Cutter’s Bar and Grill at five o’clock and was sitting at one of the booths in the back. Cutters was a popular local hangout in downtown Morristown, off the Green. It was a small dimly lit pub with booths on one side and an extensive bar on the other side. The bar was already crowded when she arrived. She ordered a white wine and waited with increasing anxiety for Linda to arrive. She had never met Linda face-to-face, so she’d chosen a seat facing the door in order to see who was coming in. Five-thirty came, then six o’clock, but no Linda. Where was she? Kate was worried. I don’t even have a number to call her, she realized. Stupid move, Kate!
Kate became more and more concerned and apprehensive as the minutes ticked by. What should she do? She glanced at her watch for the hu
ndredth time. Just as five minutes after six o’clock rolled around, someone ran into the pub shouting, “Call 911! Call an ambulance! Someone just ran over a woman in the street! Hurry!”
“Oh, my God!” Kate sprinted up out of the booth and ran out of the pub, along with several other patrons. In the middle of the street lay a blonde-haired woman resting in pools of blood. The woman’s mangled body was twisted in an unnatural position with obvious compound fractures in both legs. The right side of her skull was caved in, and brain matter oozed out onto the pavement. Her face was unrecognizable from the damage and the copious amounts of blood on it. Her body was already cold and grey.
Kate hurried up to the body, knelt down and felt for a pulse but knew there was no way this woman had survived the massive trauma. No pulse, no respirations. Her mouth was torn from ear to ear, and her bottom lip was ripped off. Her upper lip was embedded in her nose, making it impossible to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Several ribs stuck out of her blood-soaked shirt, and her sternum was crushed, making it impossible to do chest compressions. It was clearly over for this poor woman. Who was she? Kate wondered.
A large crowd gathered around, and traffic began backing up on both sides of the street. Motorists started emptying out of their cars to see what the commotion was. Some of the spectators cried and threw up when they saw the mutilated body in the street. In the background, sirens blared louder and louder.
Kate sat helplessly on the ground while she waited for the ambulance and police to arrive. She wanted to cover the body but knew enough to not tamper with the scene. A thought suddenly screamed in her mind as she remembered why she was here. Dear God, please don’t let this woman be Linda!
The police pulled up with flashing lights and sirens and screeched to a halt in front of the body. They pushed the spectators back.
“Ma’am, what happened? Are you hurt?” the officer asked. Kate was soaked in blood.
“No, I was in Cutter’s when someone came in to call an ambulance. I’m a nurse, so I thought I could help, but it’s too late. There is no mouth or chest to resuscitate.”
Code Blue With Intent Page 9
