“Fixing one problem causes another,” I said.
“Yes. So we’re proceeding cautiously.”
“What’s the bottom line?”
Madison kept his eyes on mine. “We’re in a pickle. That’s the best non-medical way to describe the situation, and probably more accurate. Pneumonia, heart failure, kidneys. Any one could be fatal.”
Susan stepped closer. “But he has a chance. We’re not giving up on him. He’s tough.”
I hugged her, and whispered, “But does he have the will to live—to live as the shadow of himself?”
Susan had no answer. I kissed her cheek and backed away. “Mom and I appreciate what you’re doing. My power of attorney for his healthcare decisions is on file. If it comes to it, there’s to be no resuscitation.”
Susan and Madison nodded in agreement.
“I’d better bring Mom up to date.” I left the room startled that tears blinded my vision. How could things have gotten so bad so fast? Alzheimer’s progressed relentlessly but slowly. We’d gotten used to the corrosive way that disease destroyed Dad’s personality. But to be in critical condition in only a few days. I wasn’t prepared.
Mom sat alone in a corner of the cafeteria. A few late afternoon patrons consumed coffee and soft drinks. Dinner wouldn’t be served for another hour.
She looked up from the depths of her cup. “Did you see Susan?”
“Yes. She and Dr. Madison say Dad’s in a tight spot. But they’ve got hope.”
Mom reached across the table and gripped my hand. “I’m fine, Barry. I’m praying for the best, so I know that will be what happens.”
“Do you want me to run you home for a while?”
“No. My place is here.” She released my hand. “Have you seen Fletcher? He was looking for you earlier.”
“No. What did he want?”
Mom rose from the table. “He didn’t say. He told me he’d be in Tommy Lee’s room if I saw you.”
When I got to Tommy Lee’s room, the door was open. Patsy sat beside his empty bed.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“They took him to physical therapy. He told me not to leave the room.”
“Uncle Tummy’s on his guard.”
Patsy smiled. “You met Lindsay. She’s something, isn’t she? Always idolized Tommy Lee.”
“I bet she’s a good agent. I’m looking for my intern Fletcher Shaw.”
“He was here about forty-five minutes ago. Tommy Lee had just gone.”
“Did Fletcher follow him to physical therapy?”
“No. He sat down at the computer and spent about ten minutes going through different screens.”
“Is that all Fletcher did?” I asked.
“Yes. He seemed excited and told me he’d return in a few minutes.” She glanced at her watch. “Almost an hour now. I expect Tommy Lee to be back soon.”
What would Fletcher have been doing on the computer? His skills far outstripped mine. I logged in and everything appeared normal. One email had arrived from Roy Spring saying he had no records of Doug Larson or Fletcher Shaw, but to let him know what we found in the safe and he’d cross-reference the information. His answer could be truthful or it could be what he’d need to say if he was shielding someone. We’d know tonight if the drugstore stakeout was successful.
I logged off, my heart racing from the possibility that Fletcher had hacked into our files. Why? If the leak was coming from Delray Beach, why would Fletcher need the information? Unless he was covering the tracks of someone else who had somehow left a signature.
“What’s wrong?” Patsy asked.
“I’m going to look for Fletcher. He might be with Tommy Lee.”
The hospital’s rehabilitation center included a large room with a variety of activity stations. Some patients climbed steps, some walked between parallel bars, and others did exercises on a floor mat with a physical therapist. Tommy Lee stood next to the wall with his right arm raised against a measuring strip. A therapist wrote data on a clipboard.
“You come to watch me suffer?” he asked.
“I came to watch her suffer.” I smiled at the woman with the clipboard. “I’ve got some police business for the sheriff whenever he can take a break.”
“He’s earned a rest.” She grabbed Tommy Lee’s IV pole. “There’s a table over here not being used.”
I followed them to a table on which were scattered pieces of a wooden puzzle.
The therapist helped Tommy Lee into a wheelchair. “I don’t want you trying to walk to your room. I’ll wheel you back when you’re ready.”
“I’ll do it, if that’s all right,” I said.
“Fine.” She patted Tommy Lee on the head. “Not bad for an old guy.”
“See if I ever fix a ticket for you,” he said.
She laughed and walked away.
“That woman knows her stuff.” He inched the wheelchair closer to me. “What’s up?”
“Fletcher was on the computer in your room.”
“You saw him?”
“No. Patsy said he spent about ten minutes going through different screen pages. She thought it was all right since he works for me. He didn’t try to hide anything. She said he seemed excited and said he’d be right back. That was almost an hour ago.”
Tommy Lee grabbed one of the puzzle pieces and turned it over and over. “So we have to figure he knows about the safe.”
“Yes. But why’d he take such a risk? If the leaks are coming out of Delray Beach, why would he need to access our computer here?”
Tommy Lee shook his head. “I don’t know. Unless they think we’ve got more information in the case files. Fletcher was searching through that computer only a few hours after you sent Spring the email. Maybe they’re desperate to know what Doug told you before he shot himself.”
“Do you want me to find Fletcher?”
“Yes. He was on a computer that’s technically the property of the Sheriff’s Department. If we didn’t ask him what he was doing, that would be unusual. I like the idea that somebody might be getting desperate.”
“Makes the stakeout all the more important. Who do you want with me?”
Tommy Lee tossed the puzzle piece back on the pile. “You don’t have to do this, Barry. I know your dad’s not doing well. We can cover the drugstore without you.”
“Right now I’m a police officer. I understand the demands of the job have to override personal concerns. The hospital can get me if the worst happens.” I said that, and believed that. But the stakeout was also personal. If Fletcher were involved, I wanted to be there and confront him face-to-face.
“All right,” Tommy Lee said. “We’re stretched pretty thin with two deputies on vacation. I think Wakefield’s off tonight and Reece isn’t in rotation. I’ll ask Reece if he and Wakefield will work it.”
I got up and grabbed Tommy Lee’s IV and wheelchair. “Let’s get back to your room. We’d better be in position at the drugstore by eight, and I want to find Fletcher before then.”
I started to pull him back from the table, but he grabbed my hand. “Barry. I want you to promise me you’ll bail out if your mother needs you. Reece and Wakefield can handle the drugstore. Otherwise I’m telling Reece you’re not to be on the premises.”
“You’ve got my word.”
Fletcher had disappeared. His convertible was parked in the hospital lot, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Cindy and Helen Todd said he’d stopped in before going up to Tommy Lee’s room, but they hadn’t seen him since. Uncle Wayne said he hadn’t been by the funeral home. Sid Mulray let me into Fletcher’s apartment, but all I found were Fluffy sleeping in her crate and a half-eaten pepperoni pizza on the counter.
At seven-thirty, I met Reece and Wakefield at the Sheriff’s Department. We stocked up on thermoses of hot coffee. Wakefield and Reece each drove an unmarked police car and I drove my jeep. We parked all three vehicles in a used car lot several blocks away where they wouldn’t be noticed. Reece brought a walkie-talkie
and earpiece so he could be in touch with the dispatcher. The night shift was thin and additional backup would be unlikely with only two other deputies on duty.
The drugstore hadn’t been decorated with crime scene tape. The closed sign was in the window and three-quarter-inch plywood now covered the door Wakefield had smashed through when he’d heard Doug’s fatal shot only twelve hours earlier.
We entered through the alley, spacing our arrivals by five minutes. Wakefield went first, taking up an inside position near the front where he would be shielded by the free-standing magazine rack. Reece settled in a corner behind some boxes in the storage room next to the back loading dock. I wanted to be closer to the safe and hid in a nook behind the pharmacy counter. We’d closed the safe but hadn’t spun the tumblers since we didn’t know the combination. To the casual observer, the safe appeared locked.
Our locations were far enough from each other that we couldn’t risk talking. I sat on a stool, sipping coffee and watching the shadows intensify from gray to deep purple and then black. One low-watt bulb above the front door came on when triggered by its photocell.
In the darkness, my mind wandered. Why would Fletcher use the computer right in front of Tommy Lee’s wife? Where had he gone afterwards? Would FBI agent Lindsay Boyce link Doug’s bank accounts to any outside criminal network? The words “Mob” and “organized crime” were such catchall phrases as to be almost meaningless. Who had devised such a sophisticated scheme and was willing to kill to protect it? Who had gotten their hooks into Doug Larson, one of our own, as Tommy Lee had said? Who else had they targeted?
Fragments of a conversation came back to me. Cooper Ludden on the loading dock at the hospital, accepting some shipments, refusing others. Setting aside a split carton for later. “My job’s to at least get the stuff in the door. Then it’s Hospital Security’s problem.” What if Cooper was ripping off shipments before they went into inventory? And pulling out drugs and supplies that had been ordered but never delivered within the hospital? “When you’ve been here as long as I have, you can shortcut the system,” Cooper had said. Only I hadn’t been listening.
I had no proof, just pieces of a puzzle and no picture to guide their assembly. Fletcher Shaw was still the most baffling piece of all.
Thursday night crossed into Friday morning. By two o’clock, I began to doubt whether we would have any intruders. By two-thirty my legs were cramping and I risked exposure by slowly walking in a tight circle to get the blood flowing again. Then I heard a sound from behind me.
“Barry.” Reece crept close to me. “Dispatcher says they’ve had a bomb threat at the hospital.”
“Jesus.” That’s a law officer’s worst nightmare. The public place where people are most vulnerable. “What’s happening?”
“They’re doing a sweep floor by floor. Buncombe County’s lending their unit, but they need more manpower. I’m releasing Wakefield to assist.”
“Sure. It doesn’t look like anything’s going to happen here anyway.”
Reece slowly maneuvered toward Wakefield.
Was this a coordinated ruse to divert our attention? I had to admire the brain behind the plan. With the Sheriff’s Department tied up at the hospital, even if someone witnessed a break-in at the drugstore, the response time would be seriously delayed.
Twenty minutes passed. Again, Reece whispered from the dark. “Barry. Dispatcher reports a fire.”
My heart jumped. “At the hospital?”
“No. The Econo Lodge by the interstate. One of the fire trucks is being pulled from the hospital. We’d better abort.”
“We can’t. That’s what they want us to do. They’ve got to be behind the bomb threat and the fire.”
“Maybe. But the fire’s real. I’ve got to have an officer on the scene.”
“Then go.”
Reece didn’t move. All I could hear was his breathing.
“Reece?”
“I don’t like leaving you alone. Two officers should be minimum.”
“We don’t have a choice. I’m in charge of this case and I’m not leaving. Go. You’re needed at the fire.”
He hesitated. I was touched by his concern for my safety.
“I’ll be all right, Reece. We know their game so I’ll be ready. If this is a stunt to pull us off, they must have seen us come in the back. Maybe they can’t watch both doors. If you go out the front, they might think we’re both still here.”
“Okay. Take the walkie.”
“No. You might need it for emergency services at the fire. I’ve got my cell.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
But Reece didn’t leave.
I realized he was holding out his hand in the darkness.
I shook it. “I’m proud to serve with you.”
He didn’t say anything, just gave my hand an extra squeeze. I saw him leave through the dim glow of the front door night light. Reece and I would never be close, but at that moment the bond of the badge was stronger than our differences. That’s what I missed most about being a police officer.
Since both doors were uncovered, I returned to my position by the safe. The entry point didn’t matter because any intruder would have to come to me. I stepped closer to the wall where I could reach the light switch. Then I unholstered my revolver and waited.
No more than fifteen minutes had elapsed when I heard the back door slide open. There was no sound of the lock breaking or a crowbar prying out the latch. Whoever was coming had a key.
I drew back the hammer and cocked my pistol, but I kept my finger on the trigger guard. My left hand poised over the light switch. Footsteps came closer. Then they stopped.
A voice spoke out of the darkness. Not in a whisper, but as strong as if we were chatting about the weather at three in the afternoon instead of three in the morning.
“You may as well turn on the light. No sense bumbling around in the dark.”
I flipped the switch. A man stood at the other end of the counter, his back to me with his hands raised over his head. At first I thought he held a gun, but as my eyes adjusted, I saw only an open cell phone.
“Turn around slowly,” I ordered.
“Certainly.” The man kept his hands high and obeyed. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Deputy Clayton.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Joel Greene was smiling, but the glint from his eyes was as cold as steel. For a few seconds, I could only stare at him. Then my mind shifted into overdrive and the pieces of the puzzle I’d assembled into one picture created an entirely new one.
“You’re under arrest,” I said. “Keep your hands up.”
“On what charge? Opening a drugstore with a key the owner gave me? Holding an open cell phone?” He laughed. “Using minutes beyond my calling plan?”
“Medicare fraud for starters. Extortion. Illegal sale of prescription drugs. Trafficking in stolen goods. Murder.”
“Murder? Of that man the papers identified as Artie Lincoln?”
“That’s one count. Crystal Hodges is the other.”
“The girl? She died of brain trauma.” Greene gave a quick glance up at his phone. “Or if it was murder, the only person near her was your intern.”
“That’s right. But the drugs used on her had to come from somewhere. You should have checked Crystal’s chart more carefully. The lab still had a blood draw taken from her a few minutes before her death. We’ve run the tests.”
For a second, the smug expression on Greene’s face wavered. “Fascinating speculation, but I’m afraid I don’t have time for games. I believe poor Doug Larson left something for me.”
“I said you’re under arrest.”
Greene slowly lowered his hands. “I don’t need to convince you how people can die since you’ve already figured out what happened to that Hodges girl.” He put the phone to his ear. “You’ve got five seconds to hand over your gun, or my partner at the hospital gives your father a dose of the same drug that killed the girl. And Sheriff Wadkins, I beli
eve, is still on an IV.”
The tingle in my neck exploded into a cold shiver down my spine. The words I’d spoken to Doug Larson on this very spot echoed in my head. “They don’t own Tommy Lee or me.” Doug had answered with the truth. “They do and you don’t even know it.”
A police officer is trained never to give up his gun to an offender under any circumstances. If Tommy Lee’s life was in danger, he knew the risks, and I knew he would want me to take Greene out right then and there. But my father wasn’t a police officer. And as sick as he was, he wouldn’t become a murder victim through my actions. Greene had barely counted to three before I handed him my gun.
Greene spoke calmly into his phone. “Everything’s under control here. I’ll call back in a few minutes.” He flipped the phone closed. “Very sensible, Deputy Clayton.” He crouched down at the safe, reached to turn the dial, and then noticed the number. “It’s not locked.” He yanked down the handle and pulled open the door.
The empty space looked as big as a double garage. Greene stared into the safe as if expecting something to materialize.
I played the one card I had left. “You don’t think we’d be stupid enough to leave evidence here? We found nothing. We have nothing. It was a bluff.”
Greene jumped to his feet. “You don’t think I’m stupid enough to believe you? Why do you think I know the combination and have a key to the drugstore? Doug Larson was in a panic after you and the sheriff grilled him. He was emptying the safe when you confronted him, wasn’t he?” He jabbed the gun at me. “You’re wasting time. Give me the contents or your father dies.”
“I can’t. They’re not here.”
“Where are they?”
If I told Greene the FBI already had the bank statements, I’d lose my bargaining power. Would he just shoot me? If I answered “locked in the Sheriff’s Department,” would he force me to take him there? What then? We were only a few minutes away. I needed time to think. Time to allow Greene to make a mistake. I still had my own cell phone. Maybe I’d get the chance to call for help.
Final Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series) Page 22
