by Andrea Kane
“Yeah, and he stashed her away near Belleayre Ski Center in upstate New York at the end of her pregnancy and through the first few years of Diana’s life,” Marc added.
At that, Ryan moved to a second computer. “Yoda, give me another screen.”
“Done, Ryan.”
A second virtual whiteboard appeared. Ryan punched furiously at the keyboard while the others continued talking.
“No wonder Janet made her way up the ladder so quickly once she came to Manhattan Memorial.” Casey leaned forward, still studying the spreadsheet and the notes attached to it. “Ronald was not only paying her an exorbitant salary with huge raises, but he was promoting her like crazy—right up to being his assistant.”
“Talk about buying silence,” Marc muttered.
“Guys, look at this.” Ryan’s head shot up and he stared at the second screen. “Yoda, please display.”
“Yes, Ryan.”
The data popped up. It was a Google search of the local area near the ski center. A recent news item appeared in the list. Ryan clicked on it, opening it on the screen.
“A ski lodge cabin burned to the ground last night,” Ryan said. “No sign of foul play, just an unfortunate accident.”
“Bullshit.” Marc was rippling with tension. “Janet is trying to destroy all her ties with Ronald. She’s guilty as hell.”
“I also just ran her car,” Ryan added. “She drives a black Town Car. That fits the description of the car that was parked outside Madeline’s apartment building.”
“I’m going to the hospital and grabbing that bitch.” Marc wasn’t going to be stopped this time.
“Fine,” Casey said. “But before you go, tell me—why is Janet doing all this now? She’s had years to deal with the fact that the man she clearly loved was racking up women like sex trophies. She can’t hurt him—he’s dead. Has she suddenly decided to avenge his death? Why? And what’s the tie to Madeline and Conrad that would make her try to kill them?”
“None of this makes sense.” Claire had that faraway look in her eyes. She was picking up on some unknown energy.
“Aidan, scroll to the next page,” Casey requested.
He did as she asked.
“Dammit,” Ryan said. “There’s a motive to kill Ronald. Diana just found out the truth about her father six months ago. Maybe she fell apart and that—together with Janet’s own pain and resentment—pushed Janet over the edge.”
Casey frowned. “Let’s run with that. Ronald had already given Diana a great job at the hospital. And he was still paying Janet huge chunks of money. But that might not have been enough to appease her, not when her daughter was totally shattered.”
“Fine. So Janet killed Ronald.” Marc was still hovering by the door. “How? Did she drug him before the surgery?”
“That never would have escaped Conrad’s attention or the anesthesiologist’s,” Casey said, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. In order to kill Ronald, Janet would have needed access to the O.R. She didn’t have it.”
“But Diana did,” Claire said quietly.
Everyone’s head jerked around to face her. She looked sickeningly certain.
“Diana was the circulating nurse during Ronald’s surgery,” she said. “That means she was the first one in and the last one out. She’d have time alone in the O.R. before the surgical team came in.” Another faraway look. “I only met Diana briefly at the dedication ceremony, but I sensed that she was like a lost little girl. Back then, I assumed it was because her mother was so overprotective and her job was so new. Now that we’re focusing on her, I’m picking up a whole different energy. She was broken. Empty. Something psychological and heavy.”
“Diana must have had some kind of psychotic break when she found out that Ronald was her father,” Casey said. “And why wouldn’t she? She’s a gentle, sensitive girl. This news must have hit her like a ton of bricks. She’d been hurt. And the mother she adored was treated abysmally, and ultimately dumped, daughter and all. No amount of financial Band-Aids can make that go away.”
Claire shook her head sadly. “The Lexington happy family—something she’d never be part of—must have constantly been rubbed in Diana’s face. From what we’re reading in Janet’s file, Ronald wouldn’t so much as recognize her as his child. That’s something even Janet couldn’t fix.”
“What Janet could fix is finding a way to cover up her daughter’s crime.” Casey turned to Marc, who was already opening the door. “There’s something on that recording that incriminates Diana. That’s what this is about.”
“Call Patrick and the cops. I’m going to the hospital.” Marc paused. “Ryan, what’s Madeline’s Apple ID and password?”
Without so much as a blink, Ryan gave it to him.
Marc took off at a dead run.
“Speaking of Patrick...” Casey glanced at her watch. “It’s been too long. I’m calling him.”
The phone rang and rang. No answer.
“Shit. Something’s wrong.” Casey punched in Dave’s number.
The security guard answered on the first ring. “Yes, Casey?”
“I’ve been trying Patrick. He’s not answering. Did he come out? Has Madeline come out?”
“Neither.” He sounded alert and ready. “Madeline hasn’t left the hospital. As far as I know, Patrick is waiting for her. Do you want me to go in and check?”
“No. I don’t want you leaving your post in case Madeline misses Patrick and comes out on her own. Stay put. I’m calling the police.”
She hung up and dialed the telephone number of a contact she had at the nineteenth precinct on the Upper East Side.
“Harvey? It’s Casey Woods. I need your help.” She gave him only the details he needed to know, stressing that Madeline’s life was in danger, and that Patrick—who was standing guard outside the E.R.—wasn’t answering his phone. “Please send a couple of squad cars over to Manhattan Memorial and see what’s up. We’re on our way, too. Thanks.”
She hung up and grabbed her purse.
“We’ll get the car,” Ryan called over his shoulder as he and Claire raced downstairs to get their coats.
Aidan rose and met Casey’s gaze. “If you need me, I’m here.”
“We’re okay, but Marc might need you. I’ll keep in touch. And, Aidan, thank you so much for everything.”
He shook her hand. “I’ll hang out with Hero and wait to hear from you. Good luck.”
Casey nodded, and then dashed after her colleagues.
34
JANET SHIFTED IMPATIENTLY in her seat. They’d traveled exactly one and a half miles in twenty minutes.
“Get around this traffic,” she ordered.
“How?” Madeline was trying to keep her hands steady and her focus on the road. “If I drive on the sidewalk and run people down, that’s not going to get you what you want. It’s going to get me arrested.” She dashed away the tears on her cheeks quickly so Janet wouldn’t notice. Madeline was desperately trying not to show weakness in front of this woman. It would give her even more power.
“You said you’d tell me what this is about,” she reminded Janet. “What’s on that recording that would make you kill Conrad and me to get it?”
“I needed you dead if you knew what was on that tape. Clearly that was a waste of my time and energy. I just should have kidnapped you and beaten the truth out of you. We would have ended up here a lot sooner.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because it was a last resort, you idiot. No one knew anything. Now I’m going to have to get my hands dirty.”
Another icy shiver ran up Madeline’s spine.
“Did you know that Diana is Ronald’s daughter?” Janet asked conversationally. “Did you know that he and I were together for almost twenty-nine years?”
“W
hat?” Madeline jerked back in surprise, making the car jerk, too.
“Easy,” Janet cautioned. “No fender benders.”
“If you and Ronald were together, and Diana is his daughter...”
“Then why didn’t he stay faithful to me and raise our child by my side? Why didn’t he leave Nancy, whom he didn’t give a damn about, and marry me, rather than stay put and father two children with that bitch? Because he was a coward, that’s why. Nancy had all the power and influence from her rich, political family. Ronald swore to me that that didn’t matter, that we’d be together—all three of us—just as soon as he could arrange for a divorce. Well, that divorce never happened. And he never even acknowledged my child as his. He just paid for us to live very comfortably, far away. He kept me beholden by promoting me up the employment ladder until I could be his assistant, all the while helping himself to a dozen women along the way.”
“You stayed with him, anyway?” Madeline was processing the information as rapidly as she could, simultaneously inching the car along. “Did you love him that much?”
“Yes.” For the first time, there was raw pain in Janet’s voice. “I adored him. I would have done anything for him—including look the other way when he hooked up with one woman after another. I was his staple. His official ‘other woman.’ But God help me, he was worth it.”
“How did Diana cope with this all these years?”
“She didn’t. I never told her the truth. She found out on her own about six months ago. She was beyond devastated. She fell apart right before my eyes.”
Janet loved her daughter, even more than she loved Ronald. Was it possible...?
“Did you do something to Ronald before his surgery that caused him to die?” Madeline asked carefully.
“Me?” Janet’s voice rang with shocked denial. “I could never hurt Ronald. I could hate him as much as I loved him. I could resent him. But I could never, ever kill him.”
“Then why do you want the recording...?” Again, Madeline’s voice trailed off. “It was Diana. She did it. She did something before the rest of the team came into the O.R.—something that killed her father. And whatever it was is on that recording. What was it?”
Janet didn’t answer. She looked far away, and her face was contorted with pain.
“Oh, my God.” Madeline squeezed her eyes shut for just an instant, then reopened them to focus on the truck that had just cut her off. “Oh, my God,” she repeated.
Snapping back to the moment at hand, Janet pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of Madeline’s head. “She’s not a murderer. She’s a wonderful person.”
“You’ve been protecting her. You trashed both Conrad’s and my apartments looking for the tapes. You tried to kill us both to shut us up about information we never had.”
“I did what was necessary.”
“How did you get past Crest Haven’s security?”
“It’s amazing what a professional uniform, a self-assured attitude and a big smile will do for you.”
Madeline shook her head in amazement. “And now you’re going to destroy the recording.”
“Not just the recording—you, too, if you don’t get us to that mini-storage fast.” Janet leaned forward. “Traffic’s moving now. Talk time is over.”
Madeline didn’t say another word. She just accelerated slightly and drove down Second Avenue and toward her destination.
* * *
The Forensic Instincts team tore into the hospital parking lot three minutes after the police.
Casey had called Madeline’s cell phone five times. Voice mail. Voice mail. Voice mail. Her phone could be on Silent while she did her work in the E.R., but Casey doubted it.
Dave jumped up as the entourage arrived. “What can I do?”
“Just stay out here until I call you.” Casey was already walking through the revolving door, Ryan and Claire in her wake.
The cops took off for the E.R. Casey was scanning the area for any sign of Patrick.
She spotted him weaving away from the tables at Au Bon Pain.
“Patrick!” She was by his side in a dozen steps, holding on to his arms to steady him. “What happened?”
“Some woman,” he slurred. “She knocked over my coffee and bought me a new cup. She must have drugged me.”
By then, Claire and Ryan had reached Patrick and Casey. Ryan went around to Patrick’s side and slung Patrick’s arm over his shoulders. “Easy, guy. I’ve got you.”
“The woman who drugged you,” Casey said. “Middle-aged, attractive, glasses, hair up in a chignon?”
Patrick nodded. “That’s her. Who is she?”
“I’ll fill you in later. Did you see Madeline leave the E.R.?”
“Not before I passed out, no.” Despite Patrick’s glazed eyes, he looked grim. “Did that bitch take her?”
“We think so, yes.”
Casey paused as Emma came crashing into them. “What’s going on? Marc came barreling through here a little while ago, demanded to know if I’d seen Madeline, and then—when I said I hadn’t seen her—he took off.”
“Took off for where?” Claire asked, brows drawn.
“Wherever Madeline is,” Ryan replied. “He took her Apple ID and password. That means he’s using the Find My iPhone app to track her down.”
Detective Harvey Zimmer strode out of the E.R. “The woman named Madeline Westfield left with another nurse maybe forty minutes ago.”
“Another nurse—Diana Moss?”
He nodded. “That’s the name they gave me, yes. They also said that a tall guy was in there a few minutes ago asking the same questions. He told them it was an emergency, so they gave him the same information they gave me.”
“Marc’s on his way to Madeline,” Casey murmured. “But who’s forcing her to go wherever she’s going, Janet or Diana?”
“Have both of them paged—one at a time,” Patrick said. He was starting to look and sound like himself again. “Start with Diana. My guess is that Janet did the heavy lifting and took Madeline.”
Casey did as he suggested, and the PA system sounded a few minutes later, paging Diana Moss to the E.R.
The police ducked down, their Glocks ready, Harvey’s minirecorder on and ready to tape anything incriminating that Diana said.
Diana came hurrying down the hall, her hands shaking as she reviewed her patient updates. She was clearly upset by something, and Casey doubted it was her chart.
Sure enough, Diana glanced up in time to see the FI team standing there, and she came to a dead halt, all the color draining from her face. She looked around furtively, like a fly who’d spotted a spider and was searching everywhere for a means of escape.
“Don’t run, Diana,” Casey called out. “It’s useless. There are a lot more of us than of you. You won’t get away. And we’re talking to you now.”
Accepting the inevitable, Diana lowered her chart and walked toward them as if she were walking to hell.
Twice more, she stopped, close enough so Casey could see that she was dying to bolt.
The second time, Harvey rose, along with two other cops, all with pistols raised.
“On your knees,” he said. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
“All right,” Diana said in a whisper, dropping her chart and falling to her knees.
“Hands on the floor in front of you,” Harvey commanded.
Diana complied.
Harvey strode forward and took hold of each of Diana’s wrists, pulling them behind her and slapping on handcuffs.
Casey stepped forward and helped her to her feet. “Harvey, I know this is your job, but I need some information. My client’s life is at stake. Please—let me ask Diana some questions unofficially.”
Harvey stared at her for a moment, and then nodded. He m
otioned for the cops to move out of earshot. “You have three minutes while I call this in,” he informed Casey.
“Thank you.” Casey turned to Diana, going straight for the jugular. “Where’s your mother? Where did she take Madeline?”
Like a dam that burst open, Diana shattered. She bowed her head, and her shoulders began heaving as she sobbed and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt my mother. She was just protecting me. I did it. She didn’t. She never would have. She loved him so much.”
“What did you do, Diana?” Casey edged a glance at Harvey, who was calling his precinct, but she knew he had one ear on the conversation.
“I killed Ronald Lexington. I didn’t plan to. I just had to. It was torturing me. It still is. Who he was. Who I am. How could he be such a bastard? And me—how could I do such a thing? But he knew. All these years, he knew. And he never said a word. Never made a gesture. Never even glanced my way. He passed me in the hall again and again, and his gaze never even flickered in my direction to see if I was all right, if I was happy, if I resembled him. What kind of soulless animal doesn’t care about his own child? And how could he treat my mother like dirt under his feet?”
Sobs racked her body. “I didn’t plan to, not until the day of the surgery. I watched his wife and grown children gather around him, hugging him and offering support. I should have been in there, too. My mother should have been the woman at his side. But she wasn’t. I wasn’t.”
A pained pause. “Ronald Lexington needed to die. His family needed to know what it was like to live without a father...without a husband. So I took care of it. I added some diethyl ether to the saline solution. It compromised the glue and dissolved the sutures in the back of the heart. There’s no way that Conrad could have saved him.”
With that, Diana dropped back down to her knees, rocking back and forth as tears drenched her face, seeped onto her uniform. “I’m sorry...so sorry....”
Passersby had stopped, craning their necks to see what was going on.
“Keep moving,” Harvey interrupted his phone call to order. “Police business.”
