“Welcome to the pack,” I announced.
“Cute dogs,” Alex decided. “How long have you had them?”
“Since I moved to Oregon,” I answered. “I never planned on getting a dog, but these two were practically dropped in my lap, and do you know what? I couldn’t be happier.”
Once we were seated at one of the resort’s eight restaurants, namely J&G Steakhouse, Alex opened his briefcase and started rifling through it. Then he pulled out a notebook and began to read.
“Samantha Masters Anderson, pharmaceutical sales rep for Semzar Pharmaceuticals. Of all the hundred or so sales reps the company employed, she was in the top 5% for the last 3 years. Whether or not that earned her any enemies remains to be seen.”
Zack nodded, “She was good at her job, no doubt about it. She could sell ice to an Eskimo. I will admit I didn’t know she was one of the top performers. I wonder how many people they have working there. Maybe someone thought she was stepping on some toes?”
“Did you have any idea what your wife was selling?” Alex asked, as he started taking his own notes.
I shrugged, “I would imagine whatever drugs Semzar was currently manufacturing. She never really told me, since Sam knew I wasn’t interested in all those new-fangled drugs.”
“And all their side effects,” Jillian added.
Vance nodded, “That’s true. Just about all the ads nowadays spends more time talking about what could happen instead of what will happen.”
Alex made a few more notes.
“Is that relevant?” I asked, confused.
Alex nodded, “It is, yes.”
“How?” Vance wanted to know.
Alex reached into his briefcase and pulled out a glossy brochure. Clearly visible along the top of the brochure were the words Semzar Pharmaceuticals. He handed me the brochure and tapped the topic sentence:
REVOLUTIONARY DIABETES DRUG ON THE CUSP OF APPROVAL FROM THE FDA!
“Glucosoquin is rapidly becoming the flagship drug of choice that every sales rep wishes they were selling,” the P.I. told me. “According to this, glucosoquin has been proven to prevent diabetes.”
Jillian nodded appreciatively, “That’s wonderful news! I know several people who will be happy to hear that.”
“It gets better,” Alex informed us. “Glucosoquin doesn’t require any change in diet, nor does it require any amount of exercising to work. All you have to do is take one pill every single day.”
Vance’s mouth dropped open, “You’re kidding! Holy shit. Those guys are going to make a fortune! Do you know how many people are going to want to get their hands on that medicine?”
I tapped the brochure, “Wait, are you telling me this is what Samantha was selling?”
Alex nodded, “Yes. She was one of three representatives that were pre-selling the drug to hospitals, clinics, and private practices for trial runs.”
I leaned back in my chair and contemplated what I had just heard. Had Samantha told me anything about this new drug? Sadly, if she had, then it had been long forgotten. I, unfortunately, had a habit of tuning out bits of information I didn’t understand. And, as luck would have it, that included Samantha’s work. Now, before you start thinking I’m the most insensitive husband on the face of the planet, I should inform you that Sam knew all about my propensity for ignoring her. True, she didn’t care for it, but then again, she really didn’t press the issue. She knew being a pharmaceutical sales rep wasn’t always the most fascinating of jobs, but hey, it helped pay the bills. Come to think of it, there were quite a few times when her half of the income easily outweighed my own. Those huge corporations gave out bonuses on a regular basis, so who was I to argue?
I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. Had there been some type of problem at Sam’s work, and I hadn’t paid enough attention to discover the problem? Clearly, Sam had ruffled a few feathers by being able to sell this new, popular pharmaceutical. Well, if this was the case, it should be easy enough to prove. With Sam out of the picture, we just had to find out who had replaced her. Who had Semzar Pharmaceuticals allowed to take Samantha’s place?
“What are you thinking?” Jillian asked.
“I was thinking that we ought to go talk to Semzar. If only a few people were allowed to sell this super-popular drug, then I can only assume the wait-list, so to speak, must have been long. Who took her place on that list? That’s what I want to know.”
“If the FDA hadn’t approved the drug yet,” Vance said, as he scribbled notes, “then how would they be able to sell the drug? It’s not like they’d be allowed to use it, right?”
Alex shrugged, “They could if they were in another country. As you know, Mexico is only a few hours away. People have also gone to Canada to get procedures done that aren’t allowed here in the US yet.”
“Would the patient then have to return to the country of administration should they need a follow-up?”
Alex shook his head, “It’s been my understanding that the doctors here will see you regardless of medical history.”
“Interesting,” I decided.
“There’s something else,” Alex hesitantly added.
My red flags went up. Was it me, or did the P.I. suddenly seem apprehensive? What didn’t he want to tell me? If it was something pertinent to the case, then he’d damn well better cough it up.
“Hit me with your best shot,” I groaned. “What do you have?”
“Perhaps I should show your two friends first,” Alex began. “And then, if they approve, you would be allowed to watch it. I’ve been pestering the owner to give me this for quite some time. I can now say he finally sent me a copy.”
“I would be allowed?” I incredulously repeated. “And a copy of what?”
“What do you have?” Vance suspiciously asked.
Alex reached into his briefcase and pulled out a tablet computer. He tapped the screen to wake the device, entered in his access code, and then hesitated again. He tapped an icon on the screen and then slid the tablet over to Vance, who slowly picked it up.
“What am I watching?” Vance asked, puzzled. “Is there a reason you’ve… oh. Oh, no.”
“What?” I demanded. “What are you watching? Let me see it.”
Vance held up a finger and encouraged me to wait. I studied my friend’s face intently as I tried to figure out what he could possibly be watching. Then I watched his face drain of color and he suddenly flinched. He quickly shut the tablet off and gave it back to Alex. I started to reach for it when Vance smacked my hand away.
“No, Zack. Do not watch that. Trust me, buddy.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Do you trust me?” Vance asked, as he turned to look at me.
“Yeah, I do. Why?”
“Then you need to listen to me now. Do not, and I repeat, do not watch this or make any attempts to watch it. That goes for you, too, Jillian.”
“Can you tell me what it is?” I asked, even though I had a suspicion I knew what it was.
“It’s dashcam footage from someone who was following your wife the day she died,” Vance somberly reported. “He recorded the whole thing. Trust me, do not watch it.”
For the second time that afternoon, I felt the blood drain from my face. Vance was right. The last thing I needed to see was the footage of my beloved Samantha being struck and killed. That would more than likely haunt me for the rest of my days.
I looked down at my hand. I had been reaching for the tablet, which, to his credit, Alex hadn’t completely pulled away from me, but was keeping out of my reach. However, he hadn’t placed it back in his briefcase yet, so he was prepared to give it to me, should I ask. I pulled my arm back, took a few deep breaths, and then nodded at Vance.
“All right, pal. You win. You’re right. I don’t want to see that. Now that you have, what can you tell me about it? And feel free to leave out the details.”
“It was just as it had been described,” Vance reported. “Her SUV was driving along fine, witho
ut showing any signs of mechanical duress. Then, out of the blue, it swerved to the left, down the median, and up into the oncoming lanes of traffic.”
I shuddered, which had the result of Jillian clasping my hand tightly in hers.
“Are you okay?” Jillian quietly whispered.
It took a few moments, but I finally nodded.
“It never dawned on me that someone could have recorded the whole thing,” I softly murmured. Sensing a growing queasiness in my stomach, I hastily took a few swallows of soda to help settle my nerves. “Was there anything else of note? Anything at all that could help us?”
Vance shook his head, “No, not that I could tell. Alex, could you send me a copy of that video? I’ll go over it a few times more, just to see if there is anything that stands out.”
“I can tell you I have gone over it quite a few times,” Alex admitted.
“And?” I prompted. “You noticed something, didn’t you?”
“I noticed something suspicious, yes.”
Vance reached for his pen.
“Go on. We’re listening.”
“You saw the video,” Alex said, looking at Vance. “Did you notice those concrete dividers on the freeway?”
Vance shook his head, “No. What about them?”
“I reached out to the guy who shot that video, asking for more footage before the accident happened. He was able to provide the raw footage, which was nearly thirty minutes longer than the one you’ve seen. It confirmed my suspicions. There were concrete dividers the previous three miles, due to some type of construction.”
“I remember hearing about the construction,” Zack recalled.
“What about it?” Jillian asked. “How is that relevant?”
“It’s relevant,” Alex explained, “because as soon as the dividers stop, that was when the accident happened. Had she swerved five seconds before, the car would have hit the divider, and more than likely it probably would have just flipped over. As it was, without anything to stop the vehicle, it made it down the median and up to the other side.”
“Didn’t Harry suggest something like this earlier?” Jillian asked, as she turned to me. “We were all talking about road construction and why Sam’s car would wait for the dividers to pass before veering off course. You thought it was suspicious then, and the more I hear about it, the more suspicious I become. This has to mean something, Zachary.”
“It’s a place to start,” Vance admitted. He looked over at the PI and then longingly down at his briefcase. “I don’t suppose I could prevail upon you to make me a copy of those files, do you? I’d love to be able to go over them tonight.”
Alex reached into his briefcase and slid out a second manila folder. He passed them to Vance with a knowing grin on his face.
“I knew you were coming, Mr. Samuelson, and that you were a police detective. I had a copy waiting.”
“You knew he’d want his own copy?” Jillian asked, incredulous.
Alex nodded, “Of course. He’s a detective. I’d want the same thing if the roles were reversed.”
We said our goodbyes to the PI and headed back to our respective casitas. While Vance took the file back to his own room and reviewed Alex’s notes, Jillian and I grabbed the leashes and took the dogs for a walk. The Phoenician must have some of the most beautifully landscaped grounds I think I have ever seen. Just south of the numerous pools the resort had was a narrow body of water that stretched from west to east, and nearly covered the full length of the resort. I later learned it was called Necklace Lake.
As we walked the dogs along the waterfront, I could feel beads of sweat start to trickle down my back. Yes, this was Phoenix, and yes, we were still in summer. But, for the record, I should mention it was the tail end of summer, which meant the days were starting to cool off and the nights were dipping down to normal temps. Yes, the temperature may be in the double digits, but it was still over 90°F in the shade, so I was starting to sweat. Concerned, I looked at Jillian, but I could see right off the bat she was enjoying the warmth. And the dogs? Both corgis, while outfitted in what I would have thought were heavy coats, were acting as though they were unaffected. In fact, I kept leaning down to pet their sides, just to make sure they weren’t overheating. So far, so good, only I should point out that I caught both dogs staring longingly at the nearby lake, as if each wanted to go swimming.
“Think it’s too warm out here for them?” I asked again.
“We’re in the shade,” Jillian reminded me. “We’re essentially walking from one shaded area to the next, so they should be fine.”
We had just reached the halfway point, where we found a white gazebo and a large circular fountain, when both dogs stopped in their tracks. Curious, I stopped, too, to see if I could tell what had attracted their attention.
“What is it?” Jillian asked, as she looked around.
“I think the dogs smell something,” I quietly told her. “They keep looking around, as if expecting something to appear.”
Something did appear, and it was something that you wouldn’t find in Oregon. It was a large, slender bird, measuring about 22 inches from beak to tail. The feathers were streaked white and dark brown, and the bird had a spiky crest on the top of its head. This fellow had three long tail feathers, each tipped with white, and the legs, I could see, had two toes in the front of the foot and two in the back. The bird cooed softly at me before switching to a loud repetitive clattering noise once it looked at the dogs.
“What is that?” Jillian wanted to know.
Proud that I knew the answer, I reared back and smiled, “That, my dear, is a roadrunner.”
Surprised, Jillian looked back at the large bird and tilted her head, as though she wasn’t sure that she believed me.
“I’ve seen the cartoons, Zachary. The roadrunner doesn’t look anything like that.”
I grinned, “Yeah, they left a few things out, that’s for sure. You should have seen my reaction when I saw one for the first time. I was sitting at a picnic bench, eating a hamburger, when one of those things came right up to me.”
“Are they that fearless?” Jillian asked, amazed.
“Well, they are a predator, that’s for sure. I think many of them are used to receiving handouts. Anyway, this roadrunner came up to me, making that clacking noise you just heard. I figured he was hungry, so I broke off a piece of bread and tossed it down to him. Do you know what he did?’
“He ignored it,’ Jillian guessed.
“Right. I tossed a few more pieces down, being careful to avoid any condiments. He still ignored it. Then, out of sheer curiosity, I broke off a piece of the meat and tossed it to him. Man alive, he snapped that up like there was no tomorrow. They sure didn’t show that in the cartoon. I always thought they ate seeds.”
“Another childhood myth gone the way of the dodo,” Jillian breathed.
The roadrunner ventured closer. Its loud clattering switched back to soft coos, like the sound a dove would make. Sherlock and Watson both froze in mid-step and watched the newcomer approach. Knowing full well that roadrunners were predators, and were known for killing lizards and rattlesnakes, and pretty much anything they were able to catch, I started pulling on the leashes. I wasn’t going to risk either of the dogs getting hurt.
The roadrunner cooed again and took a few more rapid steps towards Sherlock, as though the corgi was offering the desert dweller a morsel of food. Sherlock, on the other hand, had started woofing softly at the intruder. His ears were straight up, his head cocked to the side, and one paw was frozen in mid-step.
As if uncertain whether or not the corgis were food, the roadrunner ventured closer still, and then stretched forward. Sherlock, thinking the strange bird was a weird type of dog and a proper canine introduction was required, stretched his neck forward so he could sniff noses with the bird. It was truly a Kodak moment, which had me reaching for my phone so I could snap a few pics. However, it wasn’t meant to last. Heck, I don’t think either dog or bird were that impr
essed with the other, because the roadrunner’s cooing switched back to the louder chattering, and he ran off. Oddly enough, the roadrunner had paused to look back at the dogs, as if expecting them to follow. It waited a full ten seconds before it finally ran off.
“Well, I don’t know if you picked up another admirer or not,” I told the dogs. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”
TWO
“This has got to be one of the nicest resorts I’ve ever visited,” Jillian was saying, as plates of food were set before us the following morning.
“What do you have there?” I curiously asked, as I studied her selection. “It looks like eggs on toast, but more importantly, what’s that green stuff? Is that smooshed avocado? For breakfast?”
“It’s ‘Avocado Toast’,” Jillian confirmed. She took a small bite and a huge smile broke out on her face. She looked at me and cut off a small corner for me to sample. “Here. You need to try this.”
“Avocado? For breakfast? I’m not sure about that.”
“It’s delicious. Try it. You’ll like it, I’m sure.”
I made sure Jillian wasn’t watching and surreptitiously slid my glass of orange juice closer. I took the proffered sample and popped it in my mouth. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I thought, but I still wouldn’t have chosen it for breakfast. I’m more of a cereal and toast type of guy when it comes to mornings. Or French Toast, which is exactly what I ordered.
Vance joined us moments later. He gently handed back the menu to the waitress and just ordered coffee. He studied Jillian’s plate for a few moments before his surprised eyes found hers.
“Is that eggs and avocado? For breakfast? Huh.”
“So,” I started, between mouthfuls of the syrupy goodness that was my breakfast, “where should we start today?”
Vance drank some of his coffee and slid a piece of paper over to me. Both Jillian and I leaned forward to see what was written on it. It was a name and an address of someone who lived in Phoenix.
“Who’s this?” I wanted to know, as I looked over at my detective friend.
Case of the Chatty Roadrunner Page 2
