by T. R. Ragan
“How’s Robin handling the news?”
“Robin is going to be fine,” Hayley told her.
“I’m glad.” Helen beamed at them. “You two girls are quite the pair, you know. With your wild fashion sense and flair for solving mysteries, I bet the two of you will make a big difference in many people’s lives.”
“That’s the plan,” Kitally said. “To make the world a safer place for everyone.”
Hayley had no words.
“If you’re ever in the mood to have a good chat while baking a mean batch of cookies, you both know where to find me.”
“You’ll definitely be seeing me again,” Kitally told her. “Maybe you’ll let me style your hair—you know, add a little color to your bangs.”
Helen laughed. “It’s probably time for a change. I just might take you up on that kind offer.”
Kitally reached into her bag and handed the woman a card. “Here’s my number if you ever need a private eye.”
After they drove off, Hayley glanced at Kitally. “When did you have cards made?”
“I ordered them at the same time I got the cards for offering a reward for Brian’s whereabouts. Speaking of which, have you gotten any calls on that burner yet?”
“A few. Nothing substantial.”
“At this point it’s just a waiting game, I guess.”
She’s got that right, Hayley thought. It was a waiting game. And she’d wait until the world ended if she had to. Tomorrow or ten years from now—it didn’t matter. She would make him pay for what he did.
CHAPTER 54
Lizzy delivered the marshmallow treats to the nurses’ station, glad to see Margery was one of the nurses on shift. “Good morning,” Lizzy said. “I brought you all some treats for taking such good care of Dad.”
“How sweet of you. I’ll be sure and put these in the break room for everyone to enjoy.”
“Great,” Lizzy said as she eyed a picture of Margery dressed in purple at a basketball game. “Looks like you’re a Kings fan.”
“You betcha. I’ve had season tickets for years. I did my best to help smash the Guinness World Record for loudest crowd.”
“That’s terrific. Good for you. I haven’t been to a game in years, but I’ll never forget that shot Kevin Martin made to beat the Spurs.”
Margery laughed. “That was in 2006. I used to love watching Bibby, especially during the 2002 playoffs. Gosh. I could go on and on, but I’ll spare you.” She eyed the plate of treats. “Do you want one?”
“No. Those are for you and the rest of the staff, but you go right ahead.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Margery said, plucking one of the treats from the plate. “Come on, have a seat here with me in the junk food nook.” She ushered Lizzy around a partition to a round table littered with boxes of store-bought cookies and chips. When Lizzy raised her eyebrows at the display, Margery shrugged. “This is a very stressful job, let me tell you. Better than drinking or drugs, I always say.”
Lizzy joined her at the table, and it was simple enough to lead Margery to the subject she had in mind: drinking to relieve stress became popping pills which became Lizzy asking if there were ever any problems with staff dipping into the hospital’s pharmacy.
“Oh, I think any hospital has to be on guard against such things,” Margery said. “Much too common.”
“Oh, really?” Lizzy said. “Well, makes sense. So stressful, as you say. You make it seem like you’ve had some recent experience with the issue here.”
“Do I?” Margery said around a bite of her second Rice Krispies treat.
“Or maybe I heard one of the other nurses mention it. Some problem with missing syringes of . . . what was it? Fentanyl and etorphine.” She smiled. “Why I would remember that particular detail, I have no idea.”
“Well, you certainly did remember correctly,” Margery said with a twinkle in her eye. “Very impressive.”
“Any idea who might be responsible?”
Margery looked both ways. “I hate to say it, but we all have our eyes on Tim Hughes.” Margery made a zipping motion over her mouth. “It’s all very confidential, so you didn’t hear that from me.”
“I understand,” Lizzy said.
“Um, I shouldn’t say any more than I already have, but you might be wise to stay away from him.”
“Why is that?”
She lowered her voice. “He’s a bit of a perv, if you know what I mean.”
“How is it that he’s still working here?”
“Most of the females on this floor have complained, but he’s never touched anyone, so there’s really not a lot we can do about it. He has a bad habit of staring at the female nurses.” She shivered. “It’s seriously creepy. Every once in a while he slips someone a note telling her how sexy she looks. He’s been reprimanded, and his hours were cut, but evidently until he makes a move, our hands are tied.”
Lizzy glanced around. “Is he here today?”
Margery shook her head. “Tim and another nurse share a shift. Tim works Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That’s how we figured out he must be the one responsible for the missing syringes.”
Lizzy thanked the woman before she headed out. Back in her car, she used her cell phone to log on to the Internet. The name and address for Tim Hughes popped right up in the second database she searched. He lived in Rancho Cordova. If there wasn’t any traffic, she could be at his house in thirty minutes.
The house belonging to Tim Hughes turned out to be a faded-brown one-story that blended in with the oak trees surrounding it. The walkway was cracked and the front yard was covered with dead leaves. Lizzy sat in her car for a few minutes while she thought about what she would say if he answered the door. She decided to go with the truth.
After making sure her gun was loaded and strapped into her shoulder holster, she climbed out of her car and walked up Tim’s driveway.
He answered the door right away, even held it open as if he had nothing to hide. The man wore jeans and a white button-down shirt. He stood at about five foot ten and had big ears and a pointy chin. “If you’re selling something,” he said, “I’m not interested.”
“I’m not selling anything,” Lizzy told him. “Dr. Madeline Blair hired me to investigate a problem she’s having at her radio station.”
His expression didn’t change. No sign of recognition whatsoever. “I don’t listen to the radio much. What sort of problem is this lady having?”
“Her friends are missing and I have reason to believe you might be able to help me locate them.”
“Really?” He looked her over, slowly, starting at her ankles and working his gaze all the way up to her chest. “I’m in the middle of lunch right now,” he said, “but if you want to come on in and rattle off a few names while I eat, I don’t mind.”
“Well, I hate to be a bother and interrupt your lunch,” she answered, looking past him. No one else appeared to be inside.
“Inviting a pretty lady to join me for lunch isn’t exactly what I would call a bother. It’s more like a treat.”
Lizzy forced a smile and stepped into his house. The place had a moldy, dank smell and she fought the urge to cover her nose. She gestured for him to go first. There was no way she was going to give him the chance to bash her over the head when she wasn’t looking. He made a beeline to the kitchen table, where his sandwich and a tall glass of milk awaited him. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out a pitcher of juice, and poured her a glass. He set the glass on the table across from him and gestured for her to take a seat. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just stand right here while you finish up.”
“I won’t feel comfortable eating unless you take a seat.” He gestured again to the seat across from him. “Come on. It’s nice cold cranberry juice. After I eat my sandwich, I’ll make us both a rea
l drink and we can watch a movie together. This is my day off, after all.”
“No, thank you,” she said again. She flashed him the diamond ring on her left hand. “Not interested.”
He approached her then, stepped close enough for her to feel his warm breath against the side of her face. “Are you sure about that?”
The beat of her heart kicked up a notch. “I’m sure.” She took two steps backward.
“Not too many women I know would enter a man’s house if she weren’t interested.”
She looked into his eyes. “Do you know Chris Porter?”
“Never heard of him,” he said as he stepped closer again.
“What about David Westlake?”
“Doesn’t ring any bells. Come on. Sit down. Have some juice.”
“Ever heard of Amber Olinger?”
He shook his head. “Did anyone ever tell you what pretty green eyes you have?”
Lizzy had had enough. She reached her hand over her shoulder and pulled out her gun.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, both hands up, fingers splayed.
“Sit down and eat your goddamn lunch,” she told him. “Now!”
He sat down, but didn’t take a bite of his sandwich.
“Now tell me how you know Megan Vos,” Lizzy said, “and make it quick because I’m feeling a little twitchy.”
“I’ve never heard of any of those people. I don’t know why you’re here.” His face reddened as he reached into his back pocket.
About to draw her gun, Lizzy relaxed when he pulled out his wallet, put it on the table and pushed it toward her. “Is this what you came for? Take it. Take whatever you want. I don’t want any trouble.”
“If you didn’t want any trouble, why have you been stealing syringes from the hospital where you work?”
“Oh, God. Is that what this is about?” His head fell forward, his chin hitting his chest. A long moment passed before he gathered the courage to look at her again. “Are you with the DEA?”
Lizzy didn’t know what to think of the man. She hadn’t seen the slightest glimmer of recognition when she’d said the names of the missing people. But he definitely knew about the missing drugs.
“What did you do with the fentanyl and etorphine you stole from the hospital?”
“I don’t know about any fentanyl or etorphine. The only drug Seth sold me was the Rohypnol.”
“The date rape drug?” she asked.
“I never raped anyone.”
“Oh, please. And bears don’t shit in the woods. Maybe I should take a good look around this place.”
He exhaled. “I swear on the Bible I never took any fentanyl or etorphine.”
“OK, let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. You said a guy named Seth gave you the Rohypnol. Does Seth work at the hospital, too?”
“If you so much as mention that I’m the one who told you any of this, his wife will fire me on the spot.”
“His wife?”
“Janelle Brown, head nurse at the hospital. Her husband Seth is off his rocker . . . some sort of skiing accident damaged his frontal lobe when he was a kid. None of us at the hospital understand why Janelle puts up with his odd behavior, but she does. Margery told me he didn’t used to be so bad. Apparently Seth has gotten worse over the years. He used to be a male nurse like me, but the hospital had to let him go. Now he’s nothing more than a volunteer.”
“You mean like a candy striper?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“Does he have access to all the places you have access to?”
“He sure does. He’s not supposed to, but he’s always helping Janelle set up the surgery room.”
“Unbelievable.”
“It happens all the time.”
Today was errand day.
After calling in sick, Seth had delivered a letter to Debra Westlake’s mailbox. The letter detailed everything he knew about her husband’s affair with Madeline Blair. Debra Westlake would not be happy to discover that Madeline had destroyed her life both before and after her husband’s disappearance.
His next stop had been paying Cindy St. Louis a visit. With a smile on her young face, Cindy opened the door. The receptionist recognized him, but couldn’t recall where they had first met until he reminded her. Ten minutes later, he carried her dead body out in a duffel bag and shoved her into his trunk. Nobody stopped him. Nobody cared. He took her home and hid her body the best way possible under the circumstances. He would take her to the woods later, but first he needed to take care of Lizzy Gardner.
Now, Seth peered through the binoculars. There she was. Lizzy Gardner. Clear as day. Blonde. Petite. Fresh faced, little or no makeup. A natural beauty. He sucked in a breath. Pretty or no, the woman really was becoming a problem. Not only had she been hanging around the hospital asking too many questions, now she was visiting his coworkers.
She was up to no good and he didn’t like it one bit.
Tim answered the door. The female nurses at Sutter always complained about Tim’s roving eyes, especially the way he looked at their breasts when he spoke to them. But the private eye didn’t seem to care if ol’ Tim was a lecher or not—she just walked right inside.
He had followed Lizzy Gardner from Sacramento to Rancho Cordova. If he’d known where she was headed, he would have called Tim and told him not to answer his door.
In just a few hours, it had become very clear he was going to have to take care of Lizzy Gardner sooner rather than later. One thing was for sure: he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. He had everything he needed in the trunk of his car. He picked up his phone and decided to play a little Candy Crush while he waited.
CHAPTER 55
Hayley could feel somebody looking at her. Sure enough, Dog was sitting close by, staring her down. The vitamins the vet had told her to give him were actually working. His fur had grown in, covering the bald spots. She went to the kitchen. Dog followed her and then watched her prepare his meal.
“This is it—your last meal. Seriously.” She turned the can over to show the dog that it was empty. “Don’t worry, though; Kitally told me she found the perfect home for you. They have a big family. You’ll like hanging out with a bunch of kids. They’re not like Hudson, who just sits around and pets you. These kids like to run around outside and play tag all day long. You’ll probably fall over dead from happiness within the first fifteen minutes.”
The dog tilted his head.
I’m doing it. I’m talking to a dog. She placed the dog dish in front of him and then found herself watching him eat. Lizzy was a pain in the ass. She was good, Hayley had to admit. She’d done it again . . . found a way to get her to keep the dog, make the animal matter to her. Fuck that. She would show Lizzy. The dog had to go.
As she rinsed the can out in the sink, she saw a car pull up to the curb.
Unbelievable.
It was the same guy she’d seen driving the Chrysler LeBaron, the man they’d chased after. She watched him look around before he climbed out of his vehicle and shut the door.
He was here in broad daylight and he was coming her way. That could only mean one thing and it wasn’t good.
She opened the cupboard next to the refrigerator, ran her hand over the top shelf until she felt her Glock and her Taser. She shoved the Taser in her back pocket and the gun in her waistband. Moving fast, she bent down and scooped up Dog. “Sorry, pooch. You’ll have to eat later.” She left everything else where it was. There wasn’t time to do much else. She hustled out the door, locked it, then jogged down the stairs and ran to the other side of the building. With the dog clutched to her body, she stopped to listen to the man’s footfalls as he trudged up the stairs. She heard him knock on the door.
The dog whimpered. She clamped a hand over Dog’s nose. After a moment she peeked around the side of the
garage and saw the man picking the lock. He then pulled out his gun and walked inside.
Fueled by adrenaline, Hayley looked around the parking lot, saw the Dumpster and ran that way.
It was less than ten minutes before she heard him returning to his car. She couldn’t believe Brian would be stupid enough to send someone she would recognize. After all this time, he really was back? Did he think he could just kill her mother, hide out for a few years, and then come back to Sacramento like nothing had ever happened?
The door came open. Hayley was curled up tight in the backseat, hidden beneath some of the crap left in his car: an old sweatshirt, a pair of boots, a pile of fast-food wrappers. What was he doing? Had he seen her? Why wasn’t he closing the door?
Afraid he might be looking over his seat at her, she tried not to breathe.
A minute later, she felt movement as he climbed the rest of the way inside and shut the door.
It was now or never. In one swift movement, she rose and put the barrel of the gun to the back of his head. “Turn the ignition on and drive into the garage over there.”
He didn’t say a word. He just did as she told him. Once they were inside the garage, she said, “Turn off the ignition and throw the keys out the window.”
He looked in the rearview mirror, his gaze locking on hers. He dared to smile. “You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, his tone smug and all knowing.
“How did you know?” With her left hand, she got him with her Taser. The noise he made sounded like a whistle as his body convulsed. She gave him another jolt just to be sure before leaning over him and grabbing the keys.
Working fast, she climbed out of the car and shut the garage door. As she dragged him out of the car and toward the support beam in the middle of the garage, his head dropped hard against the floor. He was definitely going to feel that when he came to. She duct-taped his legs, arms and mouth so he wouldn’t be able to scream for help.
The ringing of her cell phone stopped her. The sound was coming from his pants pocket. The asshole had taken her cell from the apartment. She emptied all of his pockets: two of her best pocketknives, her cell phone, and two of Kitally’s Pop-Tarts, still wrapped. She grabbed an empty fast-food bag from the backseat of his car and put all of the items inside. She took his cell phone, too, then searched his car for weapons.
