“I don’t know if that’s it or not,” Rachel said. “Maybe he was framed, maybe not. I’m going to have to leave it to the police to discover the truth there.”
“I see that we’ve almost arrived,” Josh said. “I’ll call you after everything’s settled. In the meantime, stay there with the doors and windows locked.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Rachel said as she took the call off speaker. “You be careful, though.”
“I will.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “Josh, would you come by tomorrow morning and pick me up so we can attend church together?”
“Sure,” Josh said. “Are you going to invite Allison?”
“I’d like to,” Rachel said, “although from what I gather so far, I doubt that church is on her regular Sunday schedule.”
***
The next morning, Rachel wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and crumpled it onto her plate alongside the crumbs from an English muffin. She had one final sip of coffee and pushed back from her kitchen table.
Allison sat opposite her, paging through the Sunday paper and drinking a cup of breakfast tea. Rachel got the definite impression that her temporary roommate wasn’t much of a morning person. Allison probably hadn’t spoken a dozen words since rolling out of bed.
Well, now the woman was up. She was almost finished with her tea, and Rachel figured this was as good a time as any to broach the subject of church with Allison. “Josh is picking me up in an hour for church. I’d love for you to go with us.”
Allison looked up from the Metro section of the Dallas Morning News and frowned. “I . . . I really didn’t bring church clothes when I packed for the weekend.”
“What you wore when we visited Mrs. Lambert would be fine,” Rachel said. “At the church I attend, most people don’t dress up for the services. Oh, some of them, especially the older generation, still wear nicer clothes, but by and large most of us don’t even pay attention to what anyone is wearing.”
“That sure wasn’t the case in the church my parents attended,” Allison said.
“You say your parents attended church. Didn’t you go?”
“Oh, sure. I went every Sunday, at first because my parents made me. Then I got interested, mainly through our church’s youth group. I still remember the summer I walked the aisle and made my decision for Christ. But things changed after I left home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like a lot of college students, I rebelled a little. By three months into my first year of pre-med, I’d decided I’d rather sleep in on Sunday mornings. After that, I guess I never looked back.”
“According to Josh, that’s not an unusual scenario among doctors,” Rachel said. “I’ve certainly seen it among some of my nurse colleagues. But it’s good to see so many have made their way back after what I call ‘taking a break from God.’ ”
“I took more than a break,” Allison said. “During my senior year in med school . . . well, never mind. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Allison flipped the page of her newspaper, obviously hoping to drop the subject. Rachel decided to give it one more try. “Look, I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you, but I can assure you this church is different. You’ll feel at home five minutes after you walk in. The music is wonderful. The preaching is thought provoking. And I can almost guarantee you’ll leave feeling better than when you arrived.”
Allison looked over the top of her paper at Rachel, shrugged, and went back to reading.
***
As the congregation filed out of the church after the benediction, Josh whispered to Rachel, “You were right about this church. I felt right at home here.”
“Do you like it better than the one you usually attend?” Rachel asked.
“To tell the truth, I’ve sort of let my church attendance slide for the past few years. Matter of fact, I’m not sure where my membership is. I guess it’s back home in the church where I grew up.”
Rachel looked around to make certain she wasn’t disturbing those around her. “I’m glad you came with me today,” she whispered. “But if there’s a different church you’d like us to attend together, we can do that. I want us to be certain—not just about our church membership, but about the place God will have in our home.”
They were outside now, squinting a bit in the noonday sunshine. Josh took Rachel’s arm and steered her toward his rental car.
“Do you agree with me?” Rachel said. “I mean, about our marriage being founded on the relationship we have with God, not just what we have with each other?”
Josh seemed to think about that as he opened the car door for her. Then he said, “Yes. I think it’s very important.”
They were silent in the car as Josh pulled out of the church parking lot. When they were clear of the traffic, he said, “Would you like to get some lunch?”
“Okay, but let me call Allison. Maybe she’d like to join us—or we can bring her something.”
“I’m sorry she didn’t come with us,” Josh said. “I think it would have been good for her. I’m not certain she’s over the trauma of her divorce, and that’s been three or four years ago
. . . before she came to Preston Medical Clinic, anyway.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Allison’s a nice person,” Josh said, “but her life pretty well revolves around her practice. She has no outside interests. I never hear her talk about her family. And she seems to have built some sort of a wall around herself, determined not to let anyone get too close. I think she was afraid someone would hurt her, like her ex-husband did when he left her.”
“I thought you were her friend,” Rachel said.
“We’re colleagues, but I don’t think she considered me a friend . . . until recently. And she seems to be getting comfortable with you recently, which makes sense, considering what you’ve been through together. But other than that, Allison’s a pretty solitary person.”
“Maybe I can help her come out of that shell,” Rachel said. “Let me see if she wants something for lunch. We could even go by and pick her up.” She pulled out her cell phone, dialed, and waited for a few moments without saying anything.
“Not answering?” Josh asked.
“No, and I’m surprised. What if this had been the hospital calling?”
Josh shrugged. “Maybe she was taking a shower. Maybe she was in the other room. Don’t worry about it.”
They drove on a couple of minutes longer before Rachel said, “Josh, I’d feel better if we went by my apartment. I want to check on Allison.”
When they were in sight of her apartment, Rachel grabbed Josh’s arm and pointed. There were two police cars parked head-in in front of her apartment, their revolving strobes alternately painting the side of the complex red and blue.
26
The first thing Rachel saw when she opened the apartment door was Allison, sitting on the sofa, pale as a ghost. A stocky blonde police officer with stripes on the sleeve of her uniform shirt sat next to Allison, nodding, talking in a low voice and occasionally jotting a few words in a leather-covered notebook.
Josh, who’d been a few steps behind her, joined Rachel on the stoop in front of the open door. At that moment, two uniformed Dallas Police officers, their hands on their holstered weapons, came around the side of the building and hurried toward the little porch leading into Rachel’s first-floor apartment.
“I’m sorry, you can’t go in. That’s a crime scene,” the first one, a muscular man, said.
Rachel glanced at the nameplate over his breast pocket before answering. “Officer Brown, I’m the resident here. What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you two step back here until Corporal Daley finishes interviewing the lady?” Brown said.
The little group walked back down the sidewalk and stopped. Rachel and Josh stood facing the still-open apartment door, while the two policemen barred their way without making it obvious what they were doing. “May I see some ID?” Br
own asked.
After the police were convinced Rachel was indeed the primary occupant and Josh was present at her request, she asked once more, “What’s going on?”
“The woman inside called 911 a little while ago. She said there was a prowler on the porch, trying to force his way in through the locked front door. We were dispatched, and by the time we got here the prowler was gone.” He cocked his head toward the door. “And there was a bullet hole in that door.”
Rachel’s eyes followed the policeman’s pointing finger. At about shoulder height, barely visible at the angle the door was open, was a small hole surrounded by splintered wood.
“I wonder if she hit him,” Josh said.
Rachel inclined her head toward the four teardrop-shaped red splotches leading from the porch to the sidewalk to the grass beside the apartment building and around the corner of the building, each one marked with a numbered yellow plastic tent. “I guess you didn’t notice these before, but I think they should answer your question.”
“At first, the woman inside didn’t want to let us in,” Brown said. “When she finally opened the door, she told us the same story she’d given the 911 operator. A man was trying to gain entrance by forcing the lock. She says that after she hung up from the call she yelled at him repeatedly to stop, but he wouldn’t. That’s when she shot at him.”
The police officer appeared in the open doorway, holding a plastic evidence bag. Inside it was a pistol. “You have my card,” she said over her shoulder. “Call if you think of anything else. Either I or someone else will be back later today.” She strode down the sidewalk, said something to the two police officers who stood there, and they climbed into their vehicles. In a moment, the cars—their lights no longer flashing—rounded the corner and were gone.
Rachel started toward the open doorway, with Josh hurrying after her.
Rachel and Josh entered the living room where Allison stood in stunned silence. Josh closed the door, while Rachel walked to Allison and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Allison, what happened?” Rachel asked.
Allison shook her head. “I . . . There was someone . . . A man tried to break in. And I shot him.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. Just . . . just shaken up, I guess,” Allison replied. Silent tears streaked her cheeks, but she wiped them away and fought to regain control of her emotions. “I’ll be okay.”
Rachel put her arm around Allison’s shoulder. “Let’s go into the bedroom and talk.” She gave Josh a meaningful look. “Just the two of us.”
***
Josh and Rachel lunched on sandwiches, although neither of them was particularly hungry. As they munched, each listened for sounds from the bedroom where Allison had finally fallen asleep.
“I’ll clean up,” Rachel said. “Don’t you need to look in on your patient sometime today?”
“Yes.” Today was the day Madison was to get his final injection of RP-78. Josh looked at his watch and noted it was already mid-afternoon. He probably should leave fairly soon to visit his patient.
In a way, Josh looked forward to his visit today with Madison. After this and a limited amount of follow-up care, he’d have no further responsibility for the ex-president’s health. The handling of future illnesses would be the responsibility of whichever doctor Madison chose. Josh was more than ready to shed this responsibility and return to his normal practice.
This, in turn, reminded him that he needed to call the Preston Medical Clinic’s managing partner, Dr. Nadeel Kahn, to discuss his schedule. Nadeel would probably be disappointed that the clinic would soon lose the cachet of having the former president’s doctor on staff. However, when Madison chose his new primary physician, perhaps he’d go with one of the other doctors from the clinic. So long as it wasn’t Josh, that would be fine.
“You’re fidgeting,” Rachel said.
“I need to make a couple of calls,” Josh said. “I think I’ll step into the kitchen so I don’t wake Allison.”
“I doubt you could wake her with a cannon. She’s been running on almost no sleep since I was admitted to the hospital. Now it’s catching up to her.”
Josh tiptoed into the kitchen, pulled out his cell phone, and called Nadeel’s home number. The woman who answered didn’t sound too happy that another physician wanted to speak with her husband on a Sunday. Night and weekend calls for a hematologist/oncologist apparently weren’t common in the Kahn household.
“Josh, what’s up?” Nadeel’s tone, unlike that of his wife, was pleasant, almost welcoming. “I thought you had Mr. Madison’s problems under control.”
“They are. He gets his last dose of RP-78 today. After that, I’m done with him except for a bit of follow-up.” Josh realized he hadn’t kept Nadeel fully informed, so he hastened to remedy that omission now. Then he got to the reason for his call. “He’s going to choose another personal physician, so I’m ready to come back.”
“Problems between the two of you?”
“No, he seems happy.” No need to mention the way Dietz convinced Madison to leave the hospital against Josh’s advice and come under his care. That was water under the bridge. “I’ve found I’m not cut out for the pressure that goes with the job, and I get the impression Madison would like someone a bit more high profile. So, can you put me back on the schedule?”
“Let me see. One of the internists rescheduled his vacation so he could cover your practice and Allison’s. It’ll take a few days to get things changed back. Why don’t you plan to start seeing patients again on Wednesday? Okay?”
“Fine.”
“And if you see Allison, have her give me a call. We can probably get her started back about the same time.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
“It’s part of my job,” Nadeel said. “You know, when I did my fellowship at Johns Hopkins, they didn’t prepare me for the administrative work I’m doing now. Would you like to take over some of it?”
Josh wasn’t sure whether his managing partner was serious, but there was no question in his mind how to answer. “No thanks. I’m looking forward to getting back to patient care.”
After Josh hung up, something Nadeel Kahn said popped back into his mind. He’d forgotten that, after his internal medicine residency, Nadeel had done his hematology/oncology fellowship at Johns Hopkins. Chavez said he’d trained there as well. Here was a link between Chavez and yet another player in the drama—more information to pass on to Warren.
***
Derek Johnson came awake with a start. After his walk, which had done little to help him make up his mind, he’d stretched out on the bed in his motel room, intending to close his eyes for a moment. Instead, the bedside clock told him he’d been asleep for almost an hour. Napping in the middle of the afternoon. Derek, you’re getting old.
He felt a bit more alert after splashing cold water on his face. Derek still hadn’t made the phone call he’d been debating with himself about. However, there was one call he could make.
Josh answered on the first ring.
“JP, this is Derek. Are you busy?”
“Uh, a bit. I’ve got to go see my patient. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to get together this evening. Maybe share a pizza.”
“I wish I could, but we’ve had a bit of excitement at Rachel’s place,” Josh said.
Derek started to say something, then decided there was more, and if he kept silent maybe Josh would tell him. Sure enough, after a few moments, Josh gave him the details of what had happened.
“Can I help? Shall I come over?”
“Not right now,” Josh said. “Look, I’ve got to get going. I’ll get back to you as soon as things quiet down. And thanks for your offer.”
***
Josh was standing near the door of Rachel’s apartment, one hand on the knob, when his cell phone rang. He eased onto the sofa and punched the button to take the call. The first thing he heard was a familiar voice. “Dr. Pearson?”
/>
“Detective Warren. What’s up?”
“It seems that you and your friends are trying to complicate my life.”
“I take it you’ve heard about what went on at Rachel’s apartment about noon today.”
“Heard about it and learned some things you probably don’t yet know,” Warren said. “The police corporal who interviewed Dr. Neeves started calling all the hospital emergency rooms inside a couple of miles from Ms. Moore’s place. She hit pay dirt the second place she tried. The triage nurse was getting ready to notify the police of a man who’d just come in with a bullet wound to his shoulder.”
“Is he hurt badly?”
“Not much blood loss, but it tore up the shoulder to the point that he’ll require surgery to put it together. Meanwhile, the two police officers who were at Ms. Moore’s apartment questioned him at the hospital. It didn’t take him long to confess that he was trying to break in when he was shot.”
“Who was it?” Josh figured it had to be Chavez, trying to exact revenge on Rachel, maybe catch Josh there as well and kill two birds with one stone.
“No one you’d know,” Warren said. “He’s a junkie. He was looking for an apartment that was unlocked so he could grab some things and sell them for enough to buy his next fix.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t he stop when Dr. Neeves challenged him? She told us she warned him, but he kept trying to get past the lock. That’s when she fired at him.”
“Yeah, that’s the same story Corporal Daley got from her,” Warren said. “But the junkie says that’s not how it went down. His story is that there was no warning. He jiggled the knob, pulled on the door a time or so, and was turning away when someone shot him through the door. ”
“Do you believe him?”
“Not necessarily,” Warren said. “I’ve questioned enough junkies to know we’re probably not getting the straight story from this guy.”
“Is Dr. Neeves in trouble?” Josh asked.
“I doubt that a Grand Jury will indict her for shooting someone who appeared to be breaking into the home where she was, and it’s unlikely this guy is going to bring a civil suit, although I’ve seen crazier things. But we’ll have to see if she wants to change the story she originally gave us.”
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