Final Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series)

by Mark de Castrique

  “Fever’s back up a little. The doctor said that’s not necessarily bad if his body’s helping to fight the infection.”

  Or the fever’s back up because the antibiotics aren’t working. I knew Mom was well aware of that possibility. “You’ve had a long day. I’m going to run you home, and then I’ll spend the night here.”

  “I’m fine. You’ve got your pets to look after and the Cosgrove funeral in the morning.”

  “Freddy and Uncle Wayne can handle the service. Everything’s up at Crab Apple Valley Baptist.” I stepped back from the bed and leaned against the wall. “Democrat and George have plenty of water and food, and I’ve got some things to do with Tommy Lee.” I saved my strongest argument for last. “I’m sure Freddy and Wayne would appreciate a hot breakfast.”

  I saw Mom waver as her pride in her culinary skills took over. “Okay. But call me after the doctors have been through.” She thought for a second. “You didn’t mention Fletcher. Is he off?”

  Is he off? I hadn’t faced the question of Fletcher yet. Maybe he was off for good. “Fletcher worked through last weekend. I thought he deserved a break.”

  Mom grabbed her knitting basket from the floor beside her and packed away a skein of yarn and her needles. “Then he’ll probably be up here with Cindy. Helen said he’s usually in once a day. I think he’s sweet on her.” Mom got to her feet. “We’d better go so you can get back.”

  It was a little before midnight when I walked Mom into the funeral home to make sure everything was all right. Uncle Wayne and Freddy would be in around seven so I hoped she’d get a good six hours of sleep. I decided I could use a change of clothes for the morning and raided the closet in the guest room, where I keep a couple of spare outfits.

  I was on my way to the car when my cell phone rang. I flipped it open and recognized Fletcher’s number. “Hi. You okay?”

  “No. I’m embarrassed.” Fletcher also sounded nervous. He cleared his throat. “Sorry to call so late but I couldn’t go to sleep without apologizing.”

  I kept walking to my car, trying to hold my shirt and pants hangers high with one hand. “No apology needed.”

  “I shouldn’t have lost my temper and I shouldn’t have walked out. I’ll understand if you want to end the internship.”

  “You know what Tommy Lee did when I told him?”

  “I guess he got mad.”

  I looked for a relatively clean spot on the jeep’s hood and laid my clothes across it. “He laughed. Laughed till he cried. So this is not a big deal.”

  “You’re saying this happens all the time?”

  I opened the jeep door and watched the vibration slide the hangers off the fender and onto the dusty driveway. I gave up and sat down in the back seat. “No. You witnessed a first for Clayton and Clayton, but you’ve now been initiated into membership in the funeral directors’ disaster club. You got off easy. I once had the deceased’s relative slug me.”

  The nervousness left Fletcher’s voice. “I also understand why I’m under a cloud of suspicion. I just can’t believe the murder happened at Daleview Manor.”

  “Whoever killed Lincoln knows a lot about us. Tommy Lee and I are working on that.” The connection to Fletcher’s apartment complex triggered a question. “Have you mentioned the investigation to anyone? Friends or family back in Detroit? Classmates?”

  “No. The only one I’ve talked to about it was Cindy. She’s got a vested interest in the case.”

  I wondered who Cindy had talked to. Most likely her mom, Helen, and if Helen knew our progress, she would make it the topic of conversation at her diner. Other than the barbershop, the Cardinal Café was Grand Central Station for Gainesboro gossip. “Given the circumstances, you’d better keep Cindy in the dark.”

  The phone went silent for a second. Then Fletcher blurted out, “Oh God, I hope I haven’t put Cindy in danger.”

  “No. But be careful what you say and who you say it to.”

  “I will. And I’ll be in tomorrow.”

  “Be here by seven, and you’ll get Mom’s breakfast. I guarantee it’s worth getting up for.”

  I slept fitfully. Dad started moaning around two and the duty nurse had to increase the flow of his morphine drip. Someone seemed to come in every half hour, which made me feel good about the care, but made sleep impossible. Sometime around four-thirty, I dozed off and didn’t wake up till Susan and Dr. Madison came in at seven-fifteen.

  “How’s our patient?” Dr. Madison asked.

  I rubbed my eyes and got out of the recliner. “He was in pain last night.”

  “I’m afraid that’s to be expected.” The pulmonary specialist ran his stethoscope over Dad’s chest and frowned. “Fluid’s coming back.”

  “The pneumonia?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily. The IV keeps him hydrated. Could be just too much liquid in his system since he’s getting no exercise and his kidney function has slowed.” Dr. Madison turned to Susan. “I suggest we increase his furosemide.” He smiled at me. “That’s a diuretic that helps form urine and lowers the fluid level in his body. Let’s give him another full day on the antibiotic before we start to worry. I’d hoped for more improvement, but at least his vital signs are stable.”

  Madison left and Susan wrote some notes on Dad’s chart. “I’ll get him on the heavier dose of furosemide right away. How did things go with Doug Larson?”

  I told Susan about the previous night’s confrontation, including Doug’s unsolicited denial that he had anything to do with the death of Crystal Hodges.

  “I guess that takes us back to square one,” Susan said.

  “We might have to have Crystal’s body exhumed. I hate raising that issue with the family.”

  Susan clicked her ballpoint pen open and closed while she thought. “There’s a chance you won’t have to. Let me call the lab.”

  Susan asked for the supervisor and gave Crystal’s name and approximate time of death. She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “I should have thought of this earlier. Patient lab samples aren’t automatically discarded in case there’s a technical problem with the readings or we need a new benchmark.” She brought the phone back to her lips. “Yes. That’s great. I’ll bring you the screening instructions.”

  “They have something?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah. The lab has a blood draw from Crystal. The nurse took it about fifteen minutes before Crystal died. In the confusion, the sample went to the lab without instructions.”

  “Is the sample still good?”

  “Better than exhuming a body that had embalming fluid pumped through it. The results will depend upon what agent might have been used to kill her. But, yes, isolated from decay, the sample should reveal traces of a number of substances.”

  I remembered Doc Clark’s opinion of Lincoln. “What if Crystal had been injected with air?”

  “Then I’m afraid nothing short of an exhumation could prove anything. But that would have been much more dangerous to pull off. Contaminate the IV bag and you could be miles away rather than plunging an empty syringe while standing by her bedside where anyone could walk in and see you.”

  “How fast can the lab turn the tests around?”

  “I’m going down there now. This is their busiest time since most surgeries occur in the morning. I hope we’ll have a preliminary reading by this evening. If we can’t find anything, Tommy Lee should send the sample to the state toxicology lab, but then you’re looking at thirty days before you’ll hear anything.”

  “More people could be dead by then.”

  Susan headed out the door. “Keep your fingers crossed we find something.”

  I called Mom and relayed Madison’s report. She said the boys were eating breakfast and Fletcher had even come in on his day off. I changed clothes and told the duty nurse I was heading down to Tommy Lee’s room. I found him chasing some rubbery scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork.

  “Are you the worse for wear after last night’s interrogation?” I asked.r />
  “Me? You look like you slept in your clothes.”

  “I did. But these aren’t them.”

  “I’m the worse for wear from starving to death. Patsy’s bringing me some Krispy Kreme doughnuts to counteract this so-called health food.”

  “Maybe I’ve got some news to cheer you up.” I pulled the chair away from the computer station and sat down. “Susan found a blood sample from Crystal taken shortly before she died. We should have results this evening.”

  “If Doug prepped her last IV infusion, we’ll really have some leverage on him. Then I’ll have Reece pick him up and we’ll charge him.”

  “Any word from Doug?”

  “No. Reece called at seven to say Doug didn’t go anywhere last night and got to the drugstore before six this morning. Wakefield’s on surveillance.”

  “What if Doug’s in there shredding his records?”

  Tommy Lee gave up on breakfast and set the plate to the side. “So what? We’ve got the hospital’s pharmacy records and he’ll still have to account for the distribution of controlled substances. That’s why he needed the falsified prescriptions in the first place.”

  I felt my face burn. I must be tired. That was an obvious point and I should have thought of it.

  “Of course, if you mean other records, then you could be right. Doug could have incriminating correspondence or emails he’s planning to purge. That’s why we’ve got the search warrant.” Tommy Lee looked at the hospital wall clock. “It’s ten till eight. Hand me my phone. I’ve got it charging.”

  “You want this one?” I grabbed the room phone with the long extension.

  “No. I’ve got Wakefield’s cell programmed. I’m telling him to go ahead and pick Doug up.”

  “I want to give it one more try. See what Doug’s doing and tell him I’ve convinced you to hold off announcing he’s a cooperating witness until this afternoon. Maybe he’ll have second thoughts.”

  “You mean play good cop, bad cop?”

  “Who said play? We’re just being ourselves.”

  Tommy Lee tossed me his phone. “Okay. It’s your case. Glad one of us is thinking. But if there’s any sign Doug’s destroying evidence, or bolting, bring him in. I can hold him on probable cause until we get Crystal’s lab tests. Then we’ll see how brave he is.”

  When I got to Main Street, I spoke to Wakefield as he sat in an unmarked car at the corner. Tommy Lee had had Reece roust Judge Wood out of bed at one in the morning to issue a search warrant. Wakefield gave me the warrant and I told him to watch the front. If Doug came out alone, Wakefield had orders to pick him up.

  I parked the jeep in the alley between Larson’s Discount Drugs and a trendy new coffee and antique emporium. Nobody opened a plain store anymore. I went to Larson’s back loading dock and pounded on the door.

  After a few minutes of continuous thumping, Doug yelled from the other side. “We’re closed. Come back at ten.”

  “It’s Barry Clayton. We need to talk and we need to talk now.”

  “I’ve done all the talking I’m going to.”

  “I’ve got a search warrant, Doug, and if you make me serve it, you’ll have thrown away your last chance. I’ve convinced Tommy Lee not to brand you as a cooperating witness, at least for now. I think we can work this out, but you’ve got to open the door immediately.”

  I could hear him breathing on the other side. If he left, I’d call Wakefield to break in the front.

  Metal scraped against metal as an inside bolt withdrew. With a jerk, the double-wide sliding door opened. Doug wore the clothes he’d had on at the hospital. His eyes were red and puffy. He made me look like I’d stepped out of GQ.

  “All right, Barry. Five minutes.”

  I pushed past him without agreeing to his timeframe.

  “Barry. Wait.”

  I ran straight to the back of the pharmacy where Doug kept the safe. The door was open, but instead of pills, the floor was covered with bank envelopes. An open attaché case lay beside the safe. I couldn’t tell whether the envelopes had gone in or were coming out.

  “Stop it!” Doug tried to push me away, but I tore open the unsealed flap of one of the envelopes and pulled out a handful of checks. The account name read D & D Wholesalers.

  “What’s D & D? Delbert and Doug? Is this where you stash your loot?”

  Doug’s entire body shook. His voice constricted into a harsh whisper. “I never took one penny.”

  “I believe you. I think this is the account they use to funnel money to you so you can buy the drugs and then they turn them out on the street. They threatened to kill Delbert, didn’t they? We can stop them.”

  “You think this is all about drugs? You’ve got no idea who or what you’re dealing with. No one can stop them. They know everything the police are doing. Hell, they could own the police for all I know.”

  “They don’t own Tommy Lee or me and they don’t know what we’re doing or who we’re talking to.”

  Tears streaked down Doug’s cheeks. “They do and you don’t even know it. They already knew you suspected me.” His eyes went wide. “No one can stop them from killing my son but me.” He ran to the cash register at the pharmacy counter.

  Too late I understood what a man who feared being robbed would keep there. Doug yanked open a drawer and spun around. He held a pistol level with my chest. My thirty-eight rested on my hip. It might as well have been on the other side of the moon.

  “Take it easy, Doug. I know you haven’t killed anyone.” I let the bank checks flutter to the floor. “Don’t make a terrible mistake. Deputy Wakefield’s right outside.”

  The tremor in his hand ceased and the gun went rock solid. I shifted my gaze to Doug’s face and saw the hard edge of his resolve.

  “I couldn’t kill you, Barry. And now they’ll have no reason to kill Delbert.”

  “No!”

  The deafening shot smothered my cry.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My ears rang as the room wavered in and out of focus. I don’t know how long I must have stood there, probably only a few seconds, but time stopped. Doug had disappeared. In his place, a haze hung in the air. The acrid smell of gunpowder snapped me back to my senses.

  I heard pounding and the shattering of glass.

  “Barry!” Wakefield crashed through the front door, gun drawn. He moved quickly to the protection of the shelves, uncertain what he was facing.

  Then I saw Doug lying at my feet, blood oozing from his head.

  “Wakefield! Call an ambulance.” I dropped beside Doug, frantically feeling the side of his neck for a pulse. I swore at him. “Damn it, you can’t die on me!” My fingers dipped into his warm blood as I kept probing for any sign of life.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw Wakefield. He seemed oblivious to Doug. He stared at me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Was I? A chill rose from the pit of my stomach. How can I be all right when I’d just driven a man to shoot himself?

  Wakefield grabbed my upper arm and lifted. I got to my feet.

  “Maybe you can find a pulse,” I told him.

  Wakefield holstered his pistol and radioed for an ambulance. Then he checked Doug again. “He’s gone, Barry.”

  I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear my head. I’d seen suicides before when I’d worked as a patrolman in Charlotte, but never someone I knew. Never someone who killed himself right in front of me.

  “I should have seen it coming. I should have stopped him.”

  Wakefield shook his head. “Doug had a gun. He could have just as easily shot you.”

  But Doug had told me he couldn’t kill me. As Doug pulled the gun back, I should have wrestled it from his hand. I could have saved his life.

  Wakefield walked to the front and peered out the window. “There was no one on the street but me. I think the shot went unnoticed.” He turned and waited.

  I realized he expected me to take charge of the scene. What happened
here had been horrible, but I was a police officer and the situation demanded action. I felt a surge of energy as my adrenaline kicked in. “Call Reece and tell him to bring officers through the alley. Keep the closed sign in the front window and a deputy at the door. Release no information unless Tommy Lee or I authorize it.” I pulled my phone from my belt. “I’m going to tell him.”

  I doubted Tommy Lee could reach his phone before I was routed to his voicemail, but he’d call back immediately.

  Patsy picked up after the second ring.

  “It’s Barry,” I said. “I need Tommy Lee.”

  She caught the urgency in my voice and handed her husband the phone.

  “I’m eating my second doughnut.”

  “I botched it. Doug’s dead. He shot himself.”

  The chewing in my ear abruptly stopped. “Damn. I pushed him too hard. I should have taken him into custody yesterday.” Tommy Lee sighed. “Damn.”

  “I was the officer on the scene and I just watched him grab his gun and blow his brains out.”

  Neither of us spoke for a moment. What can you say when your best efforts have gone terribly wrong?

  A bitter thought came to my mind. “I guess I wasn’t the good cop after all.”

  “Somebody’s going to pay. Somebody put Doug Larson in such a bind that he saw no other way out. Is Wakefield there?”

  “Right beside me.”

  “Emphasize to Wakefield to clamp down on what happened. I’ll call Reece and read him the riot act on how we want this handled. First report will be that Wakefield discovered a suicide and we’re investigating. That’s all. I don’t want your name mentioned.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve got my reasons. Just get back here as soon as you can.”

  “But there’s evidence.”

  “What evidence?”

  “Checks. I think Doug was taking them somewhere. I saw one account and there are probably more. I accused Doug of using the accounts to funnel money. He didn’t deny it.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “That we didn’t know what we were dealing with. That they owned the police. That they owned us and we didn’t know it.”