by JJ Lamb
“Yes, yes. And for that reason I want you to understand why I need to ask a special favor of you.”
If he asks me for a date I’ll scream.
“I have very little family left,” Vasquez continued. “There’s only my sister, her husband, and two nieces, Lupe and Arina. That’s it. That’s all the family I have.”
“I see,” Gina said, although she didn’t.
A flash of anger crossed his face. “No, you don’t see!” He held up a hand before she could respond. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to be harsh. I’m very, very stressed at the moment.”
“Just tell me what you need from me,” Gina said.
“I need your help.”
“How I could possibly help you, Mr. Vasquez?”
He leaned forward, rested his chin on his hands. “My niece, Arina, is missing.”
“Arina?”
“Yes, Arina Diaz.”
“Arina Diaz is your niece?”
Vasquez raised bleak eyes to stare back at her. “Yes.”
“My God! We were just talking in the cafeteria a few days ago. I had no idea she was related to you. I mean, she certainly never said anything about it.”
“My sister talked me into secretly placing her in the hospital so I could keep an eye on her. I tried to tell her Arina was a grown woman, that we shouldn’t try to direct her life. But my sister and brother-in-law insisted. I eventually agreed, provided none of us ever mentioned the fact to anyone within Ridgewood.”
“Wise move,” Gina said softly. “If people knew, it could have made things difficult for her.”
“Exactly.” After a long moment, he took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “She was supposed to attend a family dinner at my sister’s house on Sunday. She neither showed up nor called to explain her absence. My sister hasn’t been able to reach her by telephone, and there’s no one at home at her apartment.”
“Maybe she went out of town with Jorge, her boyfriend, for the weekend.”
“I suggested that, but my sister didn’t believe it. She said Arina would never do anything like that without first telling her. I wasn’t convinced. But when my niece didn’t show up for her regular shift this morning, I had to agree something was wrong.”
He looked directly at Gina. “Now she’s gone, disappeared.”
“Do you think she might have run away?”
“There was no hint of anything bothering her.” His thoughts seemed to drift for a moment. “She did mention that work was tiring, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. I could tell she was happy.”
“Has anyone talked to Jorge?”
“My sister called him. He has no idea where she could be. He hadn’t seen her for several days.”
“Have you noticed any changes in her lately?"
“Not really. Well, since graduation from nursing school and going to work for Ridgewood, she may have become a little less communicative, doesn’t seem to share everything that’s going on in her life. But she’s still devoted to her parents, and very close to her sister. ”
Butterflies fluttered in Gina’s stomach; the fear that had been with her since that first phone call returned with a jolt. Was Arina one of the caller’s victims?
“Have you gone to the police?” she said, thinking of her own useless experiences.
“Of course. Her parents did that Sunday evening. We aren’t stupid.” He became the Administrator Gina knew from the past: superior, disdainful, and dismissive. But it was an ember, not a fire. His eyes moistened, looked sad. “The idea of her running away makes no sense whatsoever.”
“I still don’t understand why you sent for me. What is it you think I can do?”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure. I’ve talked to her manager in Labor and Delivery, and the Director of Nursing. All they could tell me is that she has good nursing skills and an exemplary work record. But no one seems to know anything about her personal life.”
“The other nurses in her department?”
“Yes, well, I’m not at my best when dealing with the nursing staff.”
Gina wanted to shout Amen! But she remained silent and waited for Vasquez to continue.
“My thought was that because of your union leadership, you have a good rapport with the other nurses. I would appreciate it if you would talk to the Labor and Delivery staff, see if Arina might have said something, anything, to provide some clue as to what’s happened to her.”
Gina’s first instinct was to say, yes, that she would do what she could. But before she could open her mouth, her anger resurfaced.
“What about Shelly Wilton? She’s missing, too.”
Vasquez was obviously caught off-guard.
“Uh, yes, well, Ms. Alexandros did inform me about your concerns for Nurse Wilton … and the disturbing telephone calls you had here and at home.”
“And?”
“Please forgive me Ms. Mazzio. Initially, I let our past difficulties interfere with my better judgment. I shouldn’t have.”
“I know. Once a trouble-maker, always a trouble-maker.”
It was a moment before he answered. “You did this hospital a great service last year, Ms. Mazzio, by uncovering the perpetrators of the bone marrow scheme. And you probably saved many evolving services that would have been dropped without enlarging our RN staff. The number of new nurses who have joined Ridgewood as a result of the new contract and benefits is more than impressive. And for that I’m grateful. Perhaps you deserved greater recognition, better treatment. Please forgive me.”
Gina’s anger was defusing. “I can appreciate what you’re going through with respect to Arina,” she said softly. “But I think you need to know that the police have shown very little interest in Shelly Wilton’s disappearance. People seem to think she’s a foot-loose, fancy-free kind of woman. What that has to do with anything is beyond me.” Gina hesitated, then added, “I’m sure that isn’t the situation with Arina, but–”
“But what?”
“Perhaps if you reminded the police that a couple of Ridgewood nurses are missing, maybe they would pay more attention.”
“Do you really think it would make a difference?”
“Who did your sister talk to at the police station?”
“I don’t know. Whoever it was said they couldn’t do anything until Arina had been missing at least 48 hours. Or that there was evidence of a crime having been committed.”
“I’d suggest that you call a Detective Pepper Yee. Make a big deal out of your being the administrator here, and that you’re very concerned because two Ridgewood nurses are missing. Arina and Shelly Wilton.”
“And why call this particular detective?”
“Because she’s the one I spoke to about the man who called advice in the first place and scared the daylights out of me. She’s also investigating Shelley’s disappearance.”
“I’ll call immediately,” Vasquez said.
Gina stood. “I’m really sorry about Arina. I hope she shows up soon, I hope Shelly shows up soon, also.”
Vasquez came around his desk and walked with her to the door. “I would appreciate it if you could avoid revealing the relationship between Arina and me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you. I really do value your willingness to help.”
He reached out to shake her hand. “I needed to talk to someone I thought would be one hundred percent straight with me, someone I knew would do the right thing, no matter what the consequences. Despite our past differences, I felt you were that person.”
“Mr. Vasquez, I promise that if I hear anything at all, I will tell you immediately.” Gina slipped her hand from his grip. “I hope Arina is all right. She’s a very nice person.”
The administrator opened the door. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Mazzio. I hope we hear from my niece, and Shelly Wilton, very soon.”
Chapter 23
Pepper Yee was mesmerized by the fuzzy, patterned socks on her feet, which were propped up on the end of her desk.
If the captain came in, he would stare her down until she planted her scuffed half boots back on the floor. But he wasn’t there and with her charcoal gray slacks hiked up, her fuzzy socks were exposed to the world. She’d taken a lot of heat from her cohorts about the butterfly design crawling through the weave, but how anyone could see something sexual in insects crawling on your socks was beyond her. Leave it to a bunch of men – they could create some kind of sexual buzz about a half-croaked cricket on a stick, or a flattened frog on a tree stump.
It was almost noon and she was starving.
She zeroed in on a couple other detectives at the far end of the bullpen. They were arguing a case.
“Shoulda gone in, warrant or not.”
“You’re getting crazier by the year. Gonna find me a new partner. We ain’t…”
Their voices trailed off. At first she’d listened carefully, pretending disinterest. But soon her mind drifted away and the men were only an irritating noise in the background.
Point of fact: they were talking about some ordinary, everyday break-in that shouldn’t hold anyone’s attention for very long.
She rubbed hard at her neck. The muscles were bunched and sore, making the prospect of tackling the pile of paperwork in front of her that much more grueling. She groaned and wiggled her toes.
Papers and notes of different colors and sizes were smeared across her desk like cheap props for a sixth-grade school play: Here sits the busy, dedicated detective, who’s very productive and always on top of everything.
On top of everything? In charge of her life? Uh-um. This mess told her a different story – it displayed just how out of control she really was.
Messy desk, messy life.
Her eyes drifted to the almost obligatory picture of the happily married couple right next to her against-regulation elevated feet.
Warren and Pepper. Another prop that had nothing to do with reality.
She eyed her husband, the computer wizard. Studied his handsome, sculptured cheekbones, black hair that outshone hers, and eyes that revealed no history, no future, no anything.
You fucking inscrutable Asian. How could anyone know what that stony mug of yours is saying? And look at me – grinning so hard my face is going to split in half.
Tears stung her eyes. Hard to believe the photo was taken only a year ago.
She slammed her feet to the floor so hard the two detectives stopped their cussing and instinctively reached for their guns.
She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry!”
“Get a life, will ya, Yee.”
“Broads!” Their voices were a duet of disdain as they turned away, diving back into their argument.
That asshole’ll never know how close he is to the truth. I have no goddam life.
Who else would hang around this hole and eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner from vending machines rather than go out or go home?
Home? That’s where Warren would be. Where he could ignore her, look right through her as though she didn’t exist.
She studied the picture of the happy couple one more time before forcing her focus back to the pile of half-finished forms and reports in front of her. She ran her fingers through the mess of papers and tried to put them in some kind of order.
At the top of the pile were her notes on Gina Mazzio and the missing nurse problem at Ridgewood General.
Damn it!
She was so sick of these nothing cases, cases that were whispers of something but never developed into anything solid. If she wanted respect, she’d have to make a few headlines. Otherwise, she’d be nothing but a female grunt forever.
She conjured up an image of Gina Mazzio. There was nothing inscrutable about that one. Every word, every gesture was a sledgehammer.
Wonder how she’d do with Warren?
Yee had done little work in the past week. Even though she tried, she couldn’t make her mind settle into deductive reasoning, settle down to even caring. All she could think about was Warren.
Why had he stopped loving her, stopped touching her, stopped talking to her? Was he having an affair?
She’d even followed him from work for two consecutive evenings. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing.
Enough, you idiot. Focus! Focus!
Two nurses were missing, or at least unaccounted for.
Well, hell, people do not just disappear. Women in this age group? Usually there was some guy involved, tying them up in the bedroom, and she didn’t mean a crime scene.
Shelly, the advice nurse was now missing for a week. Men. Shelly liked them. The gal slept around. But her manager said she was a steady employee. When she was sick, she called in. Where the hell was she then?
And Diaz?
Her uncle, the Ridgewood administrator claims she’s gone missing. Didn’t show up for a family dinner on Sunday, didn’t show up for work this morning. And Mazzio was bugging her again – now about both of them.
The main problem: no bodies; not a single shred of evidence that a crime had been committed. In either instance.
And who the hell is this weirdo that’s been calling Mazzio? Someone apparently was doing the deed. If you could believe her … and she did.
Yee tapped the eraser end of a pencil on her desk, stirred a stray memo, which ended up moving a couple of inches closer to falling off the edge.
Yeah, she believed the nurse. Didn’t want to, but she was solid enough.
Yee felt uneasy. She’d fallen down on the job. She’d let this and other investigations slide. Her personal problems were standing in the way of her good judgment.
Face it: you haven’t done squat in weeks.
“Have to make things happen,” she muttered to herself.
She quickly made neat stacks of the papers on her desk, but without any rhyme or reason. Again, sixth-grade props to make her look like the efficient cop that she knew she wasn’t, at least not currently.
She picked up the phone, found the right Post-it, and called Walter Cooke, the human body parts man.
“You’ve had enough time to mull over my offer, Walter. It’s time to get your ass down here and talk to me. Either that, or I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
In the process of straitening the paper mess, the notes on the missing nurse problem ended up buried somewhere in the midst of the stack.
Chapter 24
Megan Ann’s hands shook as she moved away from the entrance to the cafeteria. She watched the elevator clunk open and saw Gina move to the end of the line of impatient staffers wanting to get served.
She swallowed hard to drown the bitterness in her throat. Anger forced her into motion. She walked up to Gina, grabbed her wrist. Gina’s mouth formed a perfect circle of surprise.
“I know,” Megan Ann said.
“Hey, cut that out!”
“One of the surgery nurses saw the two of you at The Hideaway. She was more than happy to pass on that tasty tidbit.”
Gina’s eyes widened; she yanked her arm away. “What are you talking about?”
“You know!”
Megan Ann’s legs trembled, her heart pounded; she had to shove her hands into her coat pockets to keep from slapping the advice nurse.
Gina’s face morphed from puzzlement to irritation. Arching an eyebrow, she jabbed a finger at Megan Ann and said in a heavy New York accent, “Actually, I was wondering who on earth you were talking about since I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend.”
“Rotten smart-ass!” Megan Ann’s voice was climbing in volume in spite of herself. “That’s what everyone says about you.”
“Take it outside,” a voice piped up as people dodged around them to get into the busy cafeteria.
Another voice said, “Pretty unprofessional.” The loudest and nastiest snapped, “For Chrissakes, get lost. Save it for the cat house!”
The staff bumped into, flowed around them, gave them dirty looks. Megan Ann was about to cover her face in embarrassment when Gina grabbed her arm and pulled her off
to one side.
“Let’s get out of here,” Gina said. “We need to go someplace where we can talk and settle this.”
Megan Ann’s stomach growled, calling her attention to the painful, gnawing sensation deep down inside.
God, I need a drink.
Her thoughts went immediately to the stash of booze and drugs in her locker. She envisioned the vodka miniatures, the vials of Valium. She pressed hard against her stomach with both hands.
Gina tugged at her arm; she jumped at the touch. “I don’t know what to think,” she said, trying to speak above the hubbub of the lunchtime crowd. Embarrassed, she could see that people were still gaping at them, making rude remarks.
The advice nurse kept tugging at her arm; she relented and meekly followed Gina into an emptying elevator. Gina pressed “3” and they both sighed when the door finally slammed shut. The hubbub of the cafeteria crowd drifted away, vanished.
The elevator carried them to the surgical floor. Gina hurried them past the operating room area, guarded by large double doors and a bold warning:
DESIGNATED PERSONNEL ONLY
There was little activity or traffic in the corridor. Most scheduled surgeries had already taken place, or were well under way.
Gina led Megan Ann farther down the hall until at the very end they stood in front of the hospital chapel. A small doorway sign read:
All Are Welcome
Inside the dimly lit room was an abbreviated altar, set off by flickering candles. Soft, almost indiscernible music created a sense of tranquility. Megan Ann hadn’t heard spiritual music in a long time. She’d turned away from religion when her husband and baby died. How could any God allow such a senseless loss of life?
They sat down next to each other on one of the three backless benches.
“I like to come here to think,” Gina said. “There’s rarely anyone around during lunch hour. I guess people pray or meditate on some kind of schedule.”
The moment they were seated, Megan Ann covered her face with both hands, started to cry. “I don’t know what came over me.” She looked up at Gina. “I’m so sorry. And in front of all those people.”
