The crackling of static, some shouted instructions in Spanish and French, and the blaring over the PA system stopped. The high-pitched beeping from before, however, was still going strong.
“That won’t go off until the water level’s back up,” Rebecca muttered. “Here, help me with this hose.”
Jil took the other end of the giant black hose and helped Rebecca drag it to the edge of the tank. The whales swam around, and one stopped to look at her, turning on its side and giving a wave of its pectoral fin.
Jil laughed.
“Don’t get too close,” Rebecca said. “They’re skittish at the moment and they don’t know you.”
Jil made sure to keep along the fence line as she fed the hose over to the tank.
“Hold it steady. I’m going to turn the water on.”
Another trainer, seeing Jil, came rushing through to the deck to help her.
“Thanks, Max,” Jil said, recognizing the young man.
“Careful of that pit there,” Max said. Jil looked down just in time to avoid stepping in a divot in the concrete. Actually, the whole deck was in need of repair. The tank reminded her of a backyard swimming pool with chipped concrete and blue water.
Suddenly, the hose sputtered and water began to gush out.
Max slipped one end into the side of the tank. “Low budget,” he joked.
“We were allocating funds to build a bigger holding tank in the next year,” Rebecca said, joining them. “This one used to be fine, but whales grow and the tanks don’t.”
“At this rate, it will take hours for the water to rise,” Max said. “Can we get another set of hoses in?”
“How far have we got to go to get that alarm off?” Rebecca asked aloud.
Max pointed. “There’s the line.”
Jil followed to where he was pointing.
“Right there,” Max said. “That’s for the first level alarm. When the water gets that low, an alarm goes off. It dings locally and in the office. If nothing is done, and the water reaches that second line…”
Jil didn’t need to hear the rest. She’d heard the blaring alarm that must have been the last warning.
“That one’s hardwired into the PA system and can be heard all through the park.”
“Does it happen often?”
“On really hot days, we get a lot of evaporation and that can lower the water level. If the whales are playful and splashing a lot, that can impact it too…but it takes a lot to decrease the pool by twenty-five percent. I’ve never heard the alarm before.”
“Yeah, because the drain pipe is not usually left wide open,” Rebecca said sarcastically.
Max looked worried. “That can’t happen by accident, Rebecca. It takes two overrides to get that thing open.”
“What’s it for, exactly?” Jil asked.
Max answered. “Once a year at least, this tank has to be completely drained and cleaned. The drain pipe gets fully opened, drains the water, we clean the tank, and then refill it.”
“When was the last time the tank was cleaned?”
“Actually, a few weeks ago,” Rebecca said. “Maybe it never got shut properly.”
Max looked at her doubtfully.
“We’ve had no problems for ten days and then suddenly it blows? I can’t see it.”
“A problem with the seal, maybe?”
Max shrugged. “Maybe. Or…”
Rebecca shook her head. “Don’t say it, Max.”
Jil had been thinking the same thing. Or someone had deliberately tried to drain the tank.
“With two whales inside?” Rebecca said defensively. “Why would anyone try to do that?”
“I don’t know, Rebecca, but that observatory was no accident either. Someone’s trying to sabotage this place.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Jess looked up to see Myra getting off the elevator. She stopped in front of Jess, a bit farther away than one would normally greet a member of their family. But at least she wasn’t yelling curse words.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
Jess expected them to go through the main doors of the hospital, but instead Myra led her down the corridor and into the women’s locker room. She opened a locker and put in her coffee mug, then changed her clothes.
“Since when have you been on staff?” Jess asked.
Myra shrugged. “They had a few extra lockers, so someone offered me one a few years back. They let the volunteers have a place of their own once they’ve been here long enough. It saves me always having to drag things back and forth from home. Especially in the winter.”
Jess looked around, remembering the nurse from her floor with the stolen size nine Skechers.
“Have you ever seen anything suspicious around here, Myra? Like, someone taking things that weren’t theirs?”
Myra’s eyebrows lifted. “Theft, you mean? No, I’ve never seen that. Why? Is something missing?”
“More than one something, apparently.”
Myra frowned. “That’s awful. Who’s missing things?”
“The nurses.”
“The nurses? Someone’s stealing from the nurses? After they’ve been on their feet twelve hours, looking after sick people? What kind of moral deficit does this person have?”
Jess couldn’t help a smile. That feistiness of Myra’s was something she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“How do you know anyway?”
“One of the nurses mentioned it.”
“And they don’t know who it is? Don’t they have cameras around here?”
Jess stopped. They did. On the outside of the building, in the main lobby, and all the hallways. So the thefts must take place in areas that were not surveilled by CCTV.
“None in here, right?”
“I should hope not,” Myra retorted. “We should stake them out.”
Jess almost laughed. “And how would we recognize them?”
“Well, by the jewels they’re stuffing in their underwear, I guess.”
This time Jess did laugh. “I imagine if it’s been going on as long as it has, the thief is probably a little more sophisticated than that.”
“Right. Probably. How long has it been going on, exactly?”
Jess shrugged. “Years, it seems.”
“Years? Well, then they deserve what’s coming to them.”
Myra struggled out of her shoes and extracted a shoehorn from her locker to help her put on her sensible British style outdoor walking shoes. The same ones she’d had since Jess had met her.
“I’m just going to use the restroom since we’re here,” Jess said.
Jess leaned on the bathroom stall door to close it. The lock was half off. She thought for a moment. Who could come and go in here? Obviously, more people than she’d thought. Nurses, doctors, volunteers. Even Myra.
Myra wouldn’t steal anything—she was far too upstanding for that—but who might?
As she tried to wash her hands, she discovered that two of the sinks were, indeed, broken. Not only broken but turned off instead of repaired. Shameful.
She washed her hands at one of the working sinks and headed out the door with Myra.
Jess stepped out into the street and felt the sun unexpectedly hit her skin.
“Could it be that spring has finally decided to come?” Myra said at her side.
She led the way down the street. “There’s a nice café here. They make homemade muffins.”
Jess smiled. Myra had never been much of a baker, though she’d tried.
“You can get a good old-fashioned cup of tea, without three layers of hot soya foam and syrups that spike your glucose.”
A good old-fashioned cup of tea sounded great right about now. Whether it was the long days in the hospital, or the nights alone at home, or the relief of finally having told Mitch everything that she’d never been able to say to him, she felt a hollow fatigue like she’d never experienced before. Something that coffee wouldn’t be able to touch.
She fol
lowed Myra into the café and stood admiring the paintings on the wall. It was definitely an artsy place—probably an even split between a gallery and a coffee shop, and not the sort of venue she’d expect Myra to go to often. But as she saw her mother-in-law carrying a pot of tea and a sieve to the table, she understood. Each tabletop held a bowl of raw sugar cubes, dainty milk and cream servers, and a rack of mugs. Just like a kitchen.
Jess slowly walked along the rows of paintings and back to the table where Myra was swirling the pot.
She paused by a sculpture and her heart sped up.
“You know these artists?” Myra said, watching her.
“Just that one. There.”
Jess pointed to the sculpture—almost laser cut, a woman’s bust and partial torso, ending at the neck.
“Talented.”
“She is, yes.”
Myra eyed her curiously. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to ask?”
Could it be that she’d known all along?
“We used to see each other,” Jess said quietly.
Myra only nodded. “I see. How long did you…see each other?”
“Not long. I wasn’t…exciting enough for her, I think.”
Myra poured Jess a mugful. “Yes, well, excitement is overrated, sometimes. Loyalty and devotion are much more important and virtuous.” She stopped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you do blame me,” Jess said. She had no energy left for a fight, and her words came out flat. Facts instead of accusations.
“No. I blame myself.”
Jess looked up.
“What for?”
“Because I think I knew you two weren’t right for each other and I didn’t give him a way out when he asked. I reminded him…I reminded him of his vows before God. Of his duty. Even when he told me he was unhappy. That you didn’t love him.”
“I did love him,” Jess said.
“I know. But not…in that way.”
Jess stirred a cube of sugar into her tea, more for something to do than because she actually wanted it. But watching it dissolve on her spoon gave her something to focus on.
“I didn’t know, when I married him. I didn’t know there would be a Lily out there.”
“But you’re not…with her anymore.”
“No.”
“Are you…with someone else?”
Jess nodded. “Yes.”
“Can I ask her name?”
Jess looked up and saw for the first time how much Myra had aged these past few years. No longer as quick, nor as judgmental, it would seem. She would have expected a scoff at least. Women didn’t belong with women.
But she got none of that.
“Jil,” she answered.
Myra poured milk in her tea thoughtfully. “And are you happy together?”
Jess smiled. “Most of the time.”
“Yes, well…that’s a relationship for you. I’m…I’m sorry, Jessica. You didn’t deserve my anger. You deserved my love.”
Jess felt the tears spill over before she even knew she was going to cry. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I couldn’t love him the way he wanted. The way he deserved. It’s just…it’s not in me.”
“I see that now. I realize what a struggle it must have been, knowing you as I know you. I…I should have counseled him differently. I should have…I should have done a lot of things differently. Forgive me, Jessica.” Myra put her hand over Jess’s and smiled sadly. “I can’t tell him, so I’ll tell you.”
“Life would be easier if we could get along, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. Of course it would be. But there are things…”
“Let’s not talk about it right now.”
She was too tired. She couldn’t fight about anything else.
Myra seemed to understand that and tactfully changed the subject. “I’m curious, tell me about your job. What are you doing now if you’re not at school?”
“Actually, I’m still sorting it out, but at the moment, I’m trying to figure out who the thief is at the hospital.”
“Really? Like a detective?”
“A PI,” Jess said. The words felt strange on her tongue. A private investigator was not something she’d ever thought she’d be.
“Oh. Well, that’s an unexpected turn. How did you learn anything about that?”
“Jil,” Jess said shyly. “She’s a PI. And a very good one. Her boss, Padraig, he’s about to retire, and since she’s away…”
“Is she? Away?”
“Yes. In the Caribbean. We were there together, but I had to come back…”
Myra’s face fell. “For Mitch. You came back from your vacation?”
“They called to tell me he was declining, so I…I got the next plane out.”
“And how did Jil react?”
“She got me on the plane. But I’m afraid I didn’t stop to think about her much. I’m afraid I might not be very good at relationships, actually, now that I’m looking at everything.”
Myra patted her hand. “We all learn, dear. Nobody’s perfect.”
“So anyway, her boss is shorthanded with her being away, and the hospital director is a friend of his, so he said he’d look into it.”
“So he roped you in.”
Jess laughed. “Sort of, yes.”
Myra sipped her tea. “Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll do it if you set your mind to it.”
Jess welcomed the mental switch. It was a relief after the drab days and nights of mint green walls and solo swings on the porch.
“You haven’t heard any rumors, have you?”
“No. Not at all. Though I didn’t know there were any questions to ask on the subject so I’m afraid I didn’t pay attention to that.”
“It’s odd. The thefts only take place on certain days of the week, but most of the staff at the hospital work shift work. They aren’t reliably in on any given day.”
“Yes, and some of them, it seems, are in almost every day. Overtime, double duty, it’s quite something to observe.”
“What about food servers?”
“Food servers?”
“Yes, wouldn’t they have access to the building? They bring food to every room, don’t they?”
Myra frowned. “Yes, but they have their own staff room on the bottom floor. They don’t share the locker room with the nurses and doctors.”
“So who do you know who’s only in on a Monday?”
Myra frowned. “Well, apart from the chaplain…”
“The chaplain is in on a Monday?” Jess frowned. He seemed an unlikely suspect.
“He runs a volunteer prayer circle and helps organize the volunteers. Knitting boots and hats for the newborns, prayer circles for patients, and anything else that passes through the doors of the chapel, really.”
Jess sighed. “Okay. Servicemen are too conspicuous. And infrequent. And half the thefts have taken place in or around the locker room.”
“Any particular floor?”
“Yes. The one Mitch is on, as it happens. As well as one other wing.”
“Which one?”
“NICU.”
Myra frowned.
“What?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s probably not connected. At least I would seriously hope not.
“What?”
“Well…there’s another prayer circle that meets on that wing on Mondays in the chapel—a set series of prayers for the babies in the NICU. Some of the volunteers are baby holders a few or more days a week.”
Before she could ask any more questions, Jess’s phone beeped with a message.
“What?” said Myra, seeing Jess’s face.
She jumped up.
“C’mon, we have to go.”
“What’s happening?”
“It’s the hospital. Mitch is coding.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“Ready?” Leonard led the way to the boat.
Jil watched him climb steadily over and in. No hesitation. She was impressed with the p
rosthetic and kept looking at the design, which made the leg look more like a motorcycle than a limb.
“Special issue,” Leonard said as she sat down.
“What is?”
“The leg.”
Jil blushed, hoping he hadn’t thought she was staring.
“How long have you had it?”
“This leg?”
“Or any leg…”
He laughed. “This one’s a couple years old. I got my first at age seven when my dad was in a car wreck with me in the back seat.”
Jil looked at him. “And the shark story…?”
He pulled down the top of his wetsuit to show a scar that ran over the shoulder blade and up over the collarbone.
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Almost put me out of business for good. That’s when I went back and finished my accounting license.”
“Right. I guess shark diving isn’t for everyone. Long-term, I mean.”
Leonard didn’t look at her as he sat down. “Or even short-term. It can screw you up for life.”
He yanked the outboard motor and it revved up. “Ready?” he shouted over the waves.
“Let’s go.”
He stood up and waved to the trainers at the gates and started putting slowly forward. Jil watched in fascination as two bottlenose dolphins popped up behind the boat and began surfing their wake. They headed out to sea, the dolphins keeping a close pace. It seemed like the boat tour went on forever, but the dolphins didn’t slow down. They could swim hard.
“How do you know where to go, or how far?”
Leonard pointed. “The buoys here. They mark the end of the sea aquarium’s routes.
“I would miss them if I didn’t know they were there. They seem so random.”
“You have to know where to look.”
Jil took note of the large orange buoys, large enough for someone to stand on.
The dolphins seemed to recognize them too, because one bonked it playfully with its nose, then turned around and started leading the boat back toward the aquarium.
“They jump so high,” Jil said in amazement.
“Wait till you’re in the water with them.”
“What?”
Suddenly, he shoved her and she fell off the side of the boat, whacking her arm so hard on the side that her head began to spin. Water churned beside her, cold and dark. Even in the Caribbean the sea was cold this far out. And dangerous.
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