by Paula Boyd
Director Hall slumped down in her chair.
Jerry and Perez both sat down as well, leaving me standing.
Neither said a word, but it was pretty clear my presence was no longer required. I was ready to go too, but I had one last thing to say. “For the record, Miz Hall, the only reason you got away with treating my mother like a feeble old woman who couldn’t think for herself yesterday was because we let you. My mother is anything but feeble. Go ahead and talk about her like she’s not in the room again, or call her elderly—she loves that—and just see how it works out for you. Of course, you kind of have bigger problems now, don’t you?”
Still, no one said a word. “Okay, then, I’ll show myself out.” Before I stepped out the door, I turned back and said, smiling, “I’ll let you know if we find anything else.”
I’m pretty sure I heard groaning and sighing as the door closed, but I didn’t let that dampen my mood. My little diatribe had lightened my load considerably and I felt almost cheerful.
“Jolene! Oh, Jolene!”
My millisecond of relief vanished. What now? I turned around to see Phillip Finch speed-walking toward me. Great.
“I’m so glad I found you!” he said, totally oblivious to the fact that I was not at all glad to be found. “I tried to convince Richard that everything is going fine with the project, but he still has some concerns that he’d like to talk with you about.”
Well, I did not want to talk to him or anyone else for that matter. “Look, Phillip, it’s been a long day and project details are not tops on my list of priorities at the moment. Please tell Doctor Waverman I will talk with him tomorrow.”
Finch followed along beside me, twisting his hands as he tried to keep up. “He’s quite insistent, you know how he is.” He bobbed his head in front of me and smiled his dumb little smile. “It really won’t take long. He’s quite concerned about the sampling equipment, some kind of problem. He said you mentioned it had something to do with one of the ice chests.”
Well, dammit, I’d completely forgotten about that newest addition to my list of problems—my drug dealer consultant. I really needed to tell Jerry about the stuff stashed in the trunk and get it dealt with. However, since Miz Director was probably confessing her sins about now—and hopefully ratting out everybody else involved in the fatal illegal testing program—a few street drugs seemed rather inconsequential. I glanced back toward the director’s office. “Yeah, you know, that can wait until tomorrow too.”
“Oh, gosh, no, it just can’t,” Finch said, as if he feared the world would stop turning. “This is a critical situation. I didn’t want to mention it in front of Richard, but he just has a way of getting things out of me and now he’s quite upset.” More hand twisting. “You see, we’re missing some essential supplies and we must get those back so we can ship out today’s samples. If they don’t make it to the lab on time and at the proper temperature, we can’t use them.”
I’d had enough conversations with Deb to believe what he was saying was reasonably correct. I also remembered Finch flying offsite with the previous day’s samples, so I knew this part of the project was time sensitive. Still, how did it involve me? “I understand, but I don’t know what I can do about it.”
“Well, I hoped you could help me contact Gilbert Moore. I think there’s been a bit of a mix-up.” Finch unclasped them and stuffed them in his pockets, kind of like a nervous schoolboy, trying to talk himself out of trouble on the way to the principal’s office. “I had to be offsite for a short time this morning and I suspect that Mister Moore attempted to handle some of the sampling himself. However, he doesn’t have any formal education or training, so he may not have understood the critical nature of the protocols, the need for refrigeration or even the uses of some of the supplies, such as the new encapsulated preservatives.”
Preservative capsules? Pills in bags? Aw, geez. Had Gilbert really made that big of a mistake? It sure looked that way. Because as much as I disliked Finch, the little twerp seemed to know about managing samples and was very dedicated to it.
“The ice chest with our essential materials isn’t onsite,” Finch said, matching his steps with mine. “All I can think of is that Mister Moore may have moved it or put it in his truck and then forgotten about it.” He shook his head. “Those supplies are ordered in—we can’t replace them locally. If we don’t get them back, we’ll lose the entire day’s work and will be shut down until we get replacements.”
Many unsavory thoughts rolled around in my head—all of them about Gilbert Moore. I’d really believed he knew what he was talking about—and I’d let him get away with talking down to me because I didn’t. Now, the environmental consultant on the job was telling me that the suspected illegal drugs were nothing but sampling supplies. I wanted to scream, really I did.
“I’ve tried to reach him,” Finch said, continuing his running dialogue. “But he’s not answering.” A bit of panic had crept back into his voice. “I was hoping you might know something about it or have another way to contact him.”
Oh, I’d be contacting him alright. Mr. Know-It-All Gilbert had stolen preservative capsules, for godsake. And I had nearly killed myself racing out to meet him to get them. I felt like an idiot and I was absolutely certain he was. And he better not even think of ever talking down to me about my ignorance ever again, assuming he lived to talk about anything. When I got my hands on him…
“I have the day’s samples with me in my truck,” Finch said, still ringing his hands. “But I can’t ship them until I get that other ice chest back.” He smiled a little, but a sheen of sweat and worry covered his face. “I hated to tell Richard about this, but I just didn’t know what else to do. If there’s any way you can help me get the supplies back, I would be most grateful.” He pressed his lips together and it looked like he had tears in his eyes. “I have to get this right,” he said, swallowing hard. “If I don’t, well, it’s more than losing my job…”
I didn’t like his groveling, but I did understand he had a lot on the line—self-esteem, self-worth, a chance to not be invisible, and now the need to just not be humiliated. Always having to stand in Waverman’s domineering shadow couldn’t be easy. And then, when he finally had a shot at proving, it had been hijacked. His desperation was palpable and couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. “Well, Phillip,” I said, thoroughly disgusted with the whole mess. “I guess today is your lucky day. I have your ice chest in the car with me.”
His eyes lit up. “You do!” he said, his voice and feet both bouncing with enthusiasm. “Oh, that’s great!”
In reality, Finch was probably more excited about saving face than making a deadline. I didn’t really care as long as it made the damn ice chest problem go away. “Give me a few minutes to check on my mother and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, relief glowing in his face. “But please hurry, those samples have been sitting in my truck for quite some time.” He smiled and started to leave then turned back. “Oh, Jolene, if you don’t mind, would you please pull around to the back of the building? I had to keep my truck parked in the shade so the samples wouldn’t go bad. I’ll need to stay in the shade to do the packaging and labeling as well.”
“Sure,” I said, waving as he scurried off.
I was seriously annoyed that Gilbert had run me through the ringer, but I was also very relieved that I was about have the snafu behind me. And by the time I arrived at Lucille’s room, I had thought of many other things I was about to be free of—like the problems at the rehab center. The illicit testing culprits hadn’t been caught, but with the director now seeing the light, hopefully they would be soon. Yes, freedom, sweet freedom, was within my grasp.
My mind unfurled a panoramic image of my little hacienda on the hill, peace and tranquility beckoning me. A swim in the fancy cement pond—AKA the swimming pool—sounded like fun. Or maybe I’d go watch television or a movie on the big screen in the media room. Or, maybe I’d just cu
rl up in the big cushy king-size bed with a good book and wait for Jerry so we could enjoy the lovely evening of loveliness together. I sighed deeply as happy visions of sugar plums and bliss danced in my head, and for once, it wasn’t a sigh of resignation.
And then I saw my mother.
Chapter 30
“Oh, my Lord, I am glad you’re here!” Lucille said, peeking up and down the hall before she closed the door behind me. “I was just getting ready to go warn your consultant man.”
“Warn him about what?”
“He’s on the hit list.” Lucille motioned me away from the door. “I made a swoop through the halls and saw that Nurse Linda going in and out of his room and he was howling every time,” she said, whispering. “He’ll be lucky to be alive come morning.”
“He was howling when I saw him too and it was a different nurse.” I walked over to the chair by the bed and sat down. “That one probably refused to deal with him so Linda drew the short stick.”
Lucille followed me. “You’re not going to check it out?”
“Why? Nobody’s going to risk doing anything now.”
Lucille stopped in front of me and glared. “Just what do you mean?”
“Jerry and Perez are unraveling things with the director as we speak. Hopefully, they’ll get enough information out of her to keep pursuing things. But even if they don’t, everyone knows the police are here so they’re not going to do anything today.”
“Well, I think you’re mighty wrong about that. Just because some detective’s looking around doesn’t mean they won’t give out their pills. They hand out piles of them all the time. How would he know the difference?”
He wouldn’t, but it still seemed stupid to have kept the suspect pills onsite. The only straw I could grasp to make that work was that they needed to finish out a time period or something. If they kept slipping certain patients the pills, and snuck in the bloodwork, they’d still have their data. It was a big stretch, but then I didn’t know what the stakes were in the game either. It might be worth the risk. “You could be right.”
“Well, I am right.” Lucille sat down in the chair across from me, frowning. “Christine didn’t show up for my therapy this afternoon either. She might be a hateful murdering hussy, but she knows her exercises and therapies. That boy they sent didn’t know his head from a hole in the ground.” Lucille clucked her tongue. “Wonder why she hightailed it out of here and that nurse didn’t?”
“Maybe she just took a day off.”
“You think whatever you want,” Lucille said. “Nothing’s settled and nothing’s over and I’m staying on guard.” She tapped her nails on the armrest. “This is not playing out at all like I thought it would.”
Me either, however, my desired outcome was quite different from my mother’s. Not being arrested was a good outcome for me. And even though there wasn’t an immediate resolution, I still held out hope that the evildoers would be brought to justice. Mother Sharpshooter might lust for a showdown at the OK Corral, but I did not. I was very grateful that, for once, we’d gotten out of a situation without having to dodge bullets. I stood. “I’ve got some sampling materials in my car that I need to give to Finch. It won’t take long and when I get back, we’ll go talk see if Jerry and Perez will tell us anything more. Okay?”
“I suppose,” Lucille mumbled.
I headed to the door.
“Wait a minute!” Lucille said. “What about your drug dealer consultant man? Even if Nurse Linda doesn’t knock him off, one of his gangster people might. If he’s lost his goods, those sleazy drug people are liable to just pop him for it, right there in the hospital bed. It happens, you know.” She slapped her hands on the armrests and stood. “Somebody better be there when the deal goes down.”
“Nothing’s going down, Mother,” I said, sighing. “I should have told you. Turns out there are no drugs. The whole thing was all just a big misunderstanding.” I shook my head. “It’s just a stupid mistake and I’ll explain when I get back.”
“Mistake?” she said, exasperated. “Either you have a carload of drugs or you don’t. Everybody’s watched enough TV to be able to figure that out!”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t actually looked at them. Gilbert Moore found them and brought them to me. He stuck the ice chest in the trunk and I never saw what was in it.”
“Oh, my Lord, Jolene! You haven’t even looked? I swear, sometimes you act like don’t have the good sense God gave a goose.”
I did not know which part of my action or inaction made me a goose, but I had a feeling she was going to tell me.
“I might not like that big oaf—you know the trouble he gave me before—but he’s not stupid.” Lucille huffed her disgust then plopped back down in the chair. “I need to think about this.”
I didn’t bother explaining the environmental and other mitigating details Finch had related to me because, for one they didn’t matter. And for two, whatever she was thinking about would hopefully keep her occupied while I took care of my little task.
As I walked into the lobby, I glanced toward the hallway where Waverman was. I really did owe him an apology. He hadn’t seemed to understand my accusations, and now I knew why. “Dammit,” I muttered, changing course and heading toward his room.
I was a few feet from his door when I heard a metallic clatter, like a tray or something falling. I eased closer and listened.
“No!” Waverman yelled. “I’m not doing it!”
The message was obvious, but what I wanted to know was why he was saying it. That he was just being his usual obnoxious self was the mostly likely reason. But what if it wasn’t? What if Nurse Linda—or whoever—was still trying to keep the drug testing sideline business afloat? Waverman was a new arrival, male and only about sixty, so maybe it was worth the risk. He probably wouldn’t die right off the bat, and if the investigation did get swept under the rug, they’d be ahead of the game. Or, it could just be another episode where the big bully was trying to control things. I could go either way with it.
Still, if there was a chance to get in-person proof for Perez, I had to check it out. They passed out pills like popcorn, so the only hope I had was to see the exact same pink one that was in the lab. There were many look-alikes, but if I found anything even close, I’d let Perez know. Well, I guess I just made myself a plan—sort of. I’d go in to apologize, see if there were any suspect pink pills floating around, then get out. Simple and quick.
Waverman’s door swung open and Nurse Linda charged out, carrying a small empty tray at her side. She turned away from me, then spun back and froze. “You!” she said, narrowing her eyes into a steely glare. Whether her ire was all directly related to me or whether Waverman had primed the pump, she was furious and looked ready to combust. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in jail.”
News traveled fast. I decided to play dumb, which according to my mother was very easy for me. “I have no idea what you mean.” I tried to give her an adequately confused look. “Why would I be in jail?”
“We’ve all been shown the videos of what you did.” Still glaring, she wrinkled her mouth in a smirk. “Makes it quite obvious why your mother’s had so many problems.”
Oh, now, she really ought not to have said that part. Righteous indignation rippled through me and I could feel myself saddling up my high horse, ready to leap aboard for a nice long ride. “My mother, as your director has discovered, is not at all what you people have made her out to be. What she is, is smart and strong. And it’s because of her that there are two law enforcement officials here right now, ready to bring somebody’s house of cards down in a heap.”
Linda’s eyes popped open wide and she sucked in her breath.
“Yeah, interesting that they’re not here to arrest me, huh?”
She lifted the tray with shaking arms and gripped it tightly with both hands, her knuckles white. “You are not going to get away with this!” She stood there, staring for a few seconds then pushed past me and stomped a
way, presumably toward the director’s office.
“Well, that was fun,” I said, turning to watch her exit. When she cleared the corner, I let out a big breath. I really hoped she went to the office to rat me out. Perez would have plenty of questions for her, and with Paula Hall thinking new thoughts, all kinds of good things might come out. Shaking off the icky feelings from the confrontation, I took a few breaths to calm myself then walked into Waverman’s room.
“What the hell was that all about?” he said, before I was even two steps in the door. “What’d you do that she wants you sent to jail for?”
“Long story,” I said, walking toward the bed.
“I’ve got time.”
“I don’t. I have to go meet Finch and give him the sampling supplies.” I stopped a few feet from the bed. “I actually came to apologize.”
“You called me a drug dealer,” he said, sounding genuinely hurt. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m really sorry. There was some confusion about things onsite. Gilbert saw a bunch of bags and apparently mistook the preservatives for drugs.”
“What preservatives?” he said, frowning.
“I really don’t know, that’s just what Finch said. And that things had to be done a certain way and kept cold.”
“That’s true, but the lab sends us any preservatives needed in the containers. Sounds like Finch was just trying to make himself sound smart. He wanted to be in charge, you know.” Waverman snorted with derision. “I don’t blame you for not doing it, but damn, Gilbert Moore?” He shook his head. “I could have kept running things myself.”
That wasn’t true and he knew it, but I didn’t want to argue about it. And the whole Finch thing bothered me. Had I misunderstood him about the preservatives? Was he just showing off? Both? And what about Gilbert? Or Waverman, for that matter? They’d all sounded convincing when telling me their versions of the story, but they couldn’t all be true. One version was still yet to be told though—mine. I had to look in the ice chest. And I would, right after I checked out the potential pill situation. I’d noticed a small paper pill cup on the cabinet beside the bed, but I couldn’t tell if it had anything it or not. “So why were you yelling at the nurse when I got here?”
