Checked Out

by Sharon St. George

  “I have a question,” Nick said. “How did you get to the trailhead after you left the cabin? Did you leave your car in the Bunchgrass parking lot?”

  “No. I was afraid someone would recognize it. It was Daniel’s idea to disable it. I thought of puncturing a tire, but Daniel said the tow truck driver would just put on my spare. He said to crack the driver’s side windshield when I got close to the ranger station. Then I walked there and borrowed their phone. I called a tow truck to take the car back to a repair shop in Timbergate. No one would think to look for it there.”

  “I’m impressed,” Nick said. “How’d you break the windshield?”

  “I used a tire iron. The tow truck driver met me at the ranger station and took me back to my car. I told him a falling rock did the damage. He offered to let me ride back to Timbergate with him, but I told him someone was meeting me at the ranger station. He gave me a lift there.”

  “Is that where you met up with Daniel?” I asked.

  “No, he was still on his way from Idaho, so I caught a ride to the trailhead with one of the rangers. When Daniel met me at Eiler, we decided to stay in the wilderness and let some time pass. We hoped whoever was after me would be arrested, or at least give up and quit looking for me. Except for an occasional fisherman, we had the lake to ourselves. After a few days, we decided to head home and hope no one would look for me in Idaho. The day you saw us was the day we decided to come home.”

  “Okay, my turn,” I said. “Why do you work and live two states away and go by a different name when you’re married to someone here in Idaho?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try to keep it simple. We’ve already been shot at tonight. Nick’s been hit. You wanted to tell me why you think Cody O’Brien was murdered. We need the rest of your story.”

  Laurie reached out toward Nick’s injured hand. “I’m so sorry about dragging you into all this. My marriage has been a secret … except for Aunt Brenda. Daniel’s family and mine didn’t know about it until tonight. He’s one-eighth Shoshone Indian, but without the braids, he doesn’t look it. And I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m black.” She looked at Nick and me, then down at her lap.

  “Your parents don’t believe in mixed marriages?” I said. “That’s not so unusual. Why didn’t you just tell them to get over it?”

  “You two probably think you understand the challenges of an interracial relationship, but take my word for it, Aimee, being half Asian isn’t quite the same as being black. Our parents love us and want us to be happy, but they don’t want us to be targets. Hate groups in this country aren’t in the news as often as they used to be, but they’re still out there. The only thing that arouses more rage in those people than a person of color is a mixed-race marriage. Especially between whites and blacks.”

  Laurie looked toward the church’s entrance doors. Satisfied we were still safe, she explained that she and Daniel had eloped to Reno a year earlier. They traveled through northern California on their way home, thinking they might eventually relocate there. Both of them wanted to work in a hospital, so they stopped by the TMC personnel office and Laurie was offered a job. Two weeks later she started work at TMC. Daniel stayed in Idaho to complete the last year of his training as a physical therapist. They commuted back and forth as much as possible, and spent a lot of their time together camping in northern California.

  “Which is why you chose the Thousand Lakes Wilderness when you went into hiding,” I said.

  “Yes. We spent our honeymoon there.”

  “Has Daniel finished his training program?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, he’ll graduate in December, and then he was going to move to Timbergate and try to get hired at TMC. We told our parents about our marriage tonight, but we’ve had to put our plans on hold until all this gets sorted out.”

  “Then let’s hear your story about Cody’s last night. Maybe we can help move things along,” Nick said.

  Laurie stared toward the simple altar in front of us. On a table covered in a white cloth stood a wooden crucifix that appeared to be carved out of mahogany. It wasn’t clear what color Jesus was supposed to be, but the message seemed to be that it didn’t matter.

  She began her story with the night she was working swing shift on the surgery floor at TMC. Cody was one of the patients assigned to her. After dinner, he’d acted anxious and worried. She’d asked if he wanted something to calm him and help him sleep. He said he didn’t want any sedatives, but he needed his cellphone and didn’t know where it was.

  The phone had been put away in a pocket of his jeans, which were stuffed into a bag and placed on a shelf under his hospital bed. She asked him if he wanted help making the call, and he said no, he wanted privacy. The other bed in his room was unoccupied, so she left him alone to make his call. That had to be when he’d called his brother, James, in New York.

  Laurie said she checked back later and asked how he was doing. He still seemed agitated. Then she noticed what looked like a small spot of blood on the shoulder of his hospital gown and asked if she could take a look. She immediately suspected it was a gunshot wound. She’d seen enough of them in her training, so she asked him about it.

  He told her about being grazed by a bullet while he was out riding and that the sheriff’s deputy who took his report suggested it was a deer hunter’s stray bullet.

  “Hard to believe with his injured testicle that he’d want to be riding a horse,” Nick said.

  “I asked him about that,” Laurie said. “He said it wasn’t quite as bad then. His surgery was scheduled as an elective, not an emergency. But when he rode away from the shooter at a full gallop, he exacerbated the injury.”

  “Each time I checked on him, he seemed more anxious,” Laurie said. “Finally, about half past ten, he told me he wanted his clothes. He wanted to check himself out of the hospital.”

  “What did you do?” I couldn’t believe she would let him go.

  “I knew his condition was serious. He’d been injured at a rodeo by a bull’s hoof. Cody had put off having surgery until he was in severe pain.”

  “But he still went riding on Game Boy?”

  “He said he wanted one last ride, just in case something went wrong during the surgery. I don’t know how he managed, but by the time he rode out of the foothills at a full gallop to get away from the shooter, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. After he was admitted, he obviously had second thoughts. He felt he knew me well enough to ask me to help him leave the hospital.”

  “Wait, you’re saying you and Cody knew each other?” Nick said. “How?”

  “I’ve been working every other weekend at a pathology lab. Cody brought his father to the lab a few weeks ago for some blood work he has done on a monthly basis. That’s why he recognized me when I introduced myself in the hospital.”

  Knowing what I did about Seamus O’Brien’s medical condition, it didn’t surprise me that he was having his blood checked fairly often.

  Laurie went on, “I guess Cody felt he could trust me since I was a familiar face. He kept saying he had to get away, that someone wanted him dead, so I gave him an AMA form to sign.”

  “We know about the form,” I said. “Against Medical Advice. It was found on his bed with his signature, but it wasn’t signed by his doctor or a witness.”

  “Did he explain why he thought someone wanted him dead?” Nick asked.

  “No. He said he wasn’t sure. He asked me to keep it to myself.”

  “So he left the hospital. How do you know what happened after that?”

  Laurie looked back toward the doors again, then put her head in her hands.

  “Because I was there.”

  Chapter 22

  “You were there?” I was confused. Back at the Blue Banjo, Laurie had said she didn’t know who the killer was.

  Just then we heard the church’s back door creak open. “Get down,” Nick said. He spun toward the sound and crouched behind the back of the pew, pistol in hand.
/>   “Hold your fire,” came the voice from the doorway.

  “It’s Daniel,” Laurie said.

  We stood up and Nick holstered his gun. Daniel strode toward us. Laurie stepped out into the aisle and into his embrace. He kissed her forehead and kept an arm around her shoulders.

  “You folks need to hurry. I’ve seen a couple vehicles pass by. No way to know if they’re looking for us.”

  “Can you give us a few more minutes?” Nick asked. “We’re almost finished.”

  “A few minutes, but I don’t like it. If anyone else drives by, we’re out of here.” He headed for the door.

  “Daniel, wait,” Laurie said. “Bring me the first aid kit.”

  Daniel ducked out and quickly returned with the kit. “Hurry it up, folks. I’m running out of patience.” The door closed behind him.

  I trained the beam of Nick’s pen light on his wound while Laurie cleansed and wrapped his hand. Satisfied with her work, she went on with her story.

  Once she realized Cody was determined to leave the hospital, she decided to help him. She knew he could die of sepsis if he delayed the testicle surgery much longer, so she convinced him to wait until the end of her shift. She explained that he had the right to check out of the hospital against medical advice. She agreed to accompany him to a hospital a hundred miles north in Medford, Oregon, where she would help him arrange to have his surgery done.

  Cody agreed, and Laurie drove him to the O’Brien compound east of Coyote Creek, dropped him off, and headed to her little house in town to change clothes. Cody hitched up his horse trailer, loaded Game Boy, and went to meet Laurie. She knew he wouldn’t be able to park in the alley, so she waited for him outside the apartment house that stood in front of her little cottage.

  When she asked him why he wanted to bring the horse, he said he’d be more comfortable knowing Game Boy was with him. Laurie knew the horse was worth a lot of money and figured it was probably Cody’s greatest asset. He gave Laurie the name and phone number of a rancher friend in Medford and said he’d call and arrange to board the horse there until he recovered from his surgery.

  “How did he manage to hitch up his trailer and load his horse?” Nick winced. “I’m in pain just imagining an injury like his.”

  “The pain meds. I made sure he had enough to keep the pain controlled until we reached Medford.” Laurie glanced at me with a look between guilt and defiance. “I know he shouldn’t have driven across town, but we didn’t have much choice.”

  “Hey, I don’t blame you,” I said. “The poor guy must have been in agony.”

  “Sounds like the two of you had a good plan,” Nick said. “What went wrong?”

  “Everything. Oh God!” Laurie’s voice broke. “It was so awful.” She wiped at her eyes.

  “Laurie, we know this is hard for you, but you heard Daniel,” I said. “We have to get through this and get out of here.”

  “I know.” She swallowed and continued.

  They headed up I-5 in Cody’s heavy-duty Dodge Ram, pulling the trailer. Laurie drove, and was just getting used to the rig after about ten miles when a raccoon ran in front of the truck and she hit the brakes. Cody wanted to check whether the sudden stop had caused any problem with the trailer hitch. He asked Laurie to pull over and park on the shoulder. He got out and walked back to the trailer.

  Just then Laurie saw headlights in her rearview mirror. A vehicle pulled over to the shoulder behind them and stopped. Through her side view mirror she saw the driver get out of the other vehicle. She cracked her window and heard the other vehicle’s engine still running. Then she heard Cody shout “No” and a thud, like someone falling. The horse gave a frantic sounding whinny. She came out of the cab, running back to the trailer and calling Cody’s name. She saw someone jump back in the driver’s seat of the other rig, flip a U-turn, and speed away.

  The trailer door was ajar and when Laurie pulled it open, she saw Cody on the floor, unconscious, while Game Boy stood by. She ran back to the cab, spotted Cody’s cellphone on the seat and used it to dial 911. She claimed to be a passing motorist and didn’t give her name. She put on the hazard lights and climbed in the trailer with Cody, keeping herself between his body and the horse’s hooves. Cody was still breathing, but his pulse was barely perceptible—not a good sign. The horse stayed still, only moving occasionally to bend his neck down and sniff at Cody with a slight flare of his nostrils.

  Laurie’s breathing was rapid, as if she were reliving that night. “I heard a siren in the distance and recognized it as a Life Support Unit. I scrambled out of the trailer and dropped behind the brush alongside the road.”

  “Why didn’t you stay?” I had to ask. “Why didn’t you tell the paramedics what happened?”

  “If there was hope for Cody, I knew the LSU team would keep him alive until they got him to TMC’s emergency room. There was nothing I could do or say that would make a difference, and I was afraid. I didn’t want whoever attacked Cody to know I was there.”

  “So you think someone followed the two of you up I-5?” Nick asked.

  “They must have, but how did anyone know what Cody and I were doing? After we left the hospital I dropped him at his father’s compound and drove home. It was nearly midnight. He told me that all three houses were dark and quiet. He went directly to the stables, loaded Game Boy, and drove to meet me. Someone might have seen us leaving the hospital in my car and followed us to the O’Brien compound, then followed Cody when he came to get me. Either that, or someone from the compound saw Cody load up Game Boy and leave. Either way, Cody must have been followed when he came to get me. It had to be the same person who shot at him in the foothills.”

  “And you didn’t want to be the next target.” I could relate to her fear, having just dodged the bullet that hit Nick.

  “That’s right. Whoever attacked Cody on I-5 knew he wasn’t alone. When someone broke into my house, I barely got out in time.”

  “If the intruder knew where you lived, I’m surprised he didn’t get to your place sooner,” Nick said.

  “Most people don’t know about the cottage behind the apartment house. Maybe it took him that long to figure out that I lived there and not in one of the apartments. In any case, whoever killed Cody up on I-5 knows I was there and wants to make sure I never get a chance to tell my story.”

  “Why are you sure he was attacked?” Nick said. “Maybe someone stopped to help and Cody yelled No because he didn’t need help. You didn’t see what happened in that trailer. Maybe the horse kicked him while the other vehicle was driving away.”

  Laurie shook her head. “That’s not the way it happened. While I sat with Cody, he came awake for a moment and whispered, ‘It wasn’t Game Boy.’ He wasn’t conscious long enough to tell me more.”

  It wasn’t Game Boy. The same words Laurie left on my answering machine. Those words had started this convoluted journey that led us from Timbergate to the Thousand Lakes Wilderness and finally to Idaho.

  “You were ten miles up the freeway on foot in the middle of the night,” Nick said. “How did you get home?”

  Laurie gazed at the crucifix on the altar in front of us. “I said a quick prayer and started walking north, staying under cover until I was out of sight of the emergency workers. I reached a twenty-four hour truck stop and told the waitress my boyfriend and I had a fight and he forced me out of his car alongside the road. She vouched for one of the truckers, so I asked him for a ride.”

  “And he was okay?” Nick said. “Didn’t make any moves on you?”

  “No. He was great. When we came back down I-5, I saw a CHP unit and a tow truck there with Cody’s pickup, but the Life Support Unit was gone. The trucker slowed, and I thought he might stop, but the officer waved him on.” She shook her head, remembering. “It was a surreal feeling, passing by that scene, knowing I’d been involved and not knowing if Cody was dead or alive.”

  At that point Daniel pulled the back door open again.

  “Time’s up.
Let’s get out of here.”

  We started to follow him when I remembered we had another question.

  “Wait, Laurie. Who is Pat?”

  She gave me a confused frown. “Pat? I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

  “Here, this is what she’s asking about.” Nick pulled the piece of note paper from his shirt pocket and aimed his pen light at the marking he’d made by rubbing his pencil over the notepad we’d found on her desk. Pat?

  “Oh, that. That’s not a person. It’s just a note I made after doing some weekend work at the path lab.

  “What does it mean?” I asked.

  “Paternity. I did the workup on a paternity test and a woman called me at home asking about the results. I said I wasn’t allowed to give out that kind of information. When I asked who was calling, she hung up.”

  “Who was the patient?” I thought of James’s suspicion that Echo O’Brien was pregnant and my hunch that Seamus wasn’t the father.

  “I’m not allowed to give—”

  “Please,” I said. “If there’s a chance it has something to do with Cody’s death, tell us.”

  Dammit Laurie,” Daniel took her arm. “We’ve got to go. We’ve been here too long. Just tell them and let’s get out of here.”

  “All right.” Laurie gave a shudder. She was reaching the end of her rope. “It was requested by Seamus O’Brien. When Cody brought him in for his regularly scheduled blood test, he said his wife was pregnant and he wanted to make sure the child was his. He wanted it to be confidential. Only he and Cody would know the results.”

  “And you, of course. How long ago was this?” I glanced at Daniel, who scowled and worked his jaw, barely able to contain his impatience.

  “About a week before Cody was admitted. I said we needed Seamus’s wife’s consent, but he didn’t want her involved, so I suggested we just do a fertility test on him as a first step.”