Frowning, he said, “All I’m saying is let’s not screw this up.”
“That’s what I’m saying, too.”
Both of us stared at each other stubbornly, neither backing down.
After a few moments, I suggested, “One of us could pretend to be sick or hurt.”
“How do you segue an office visit into ‘Hey, have you murdered anyone lately?’ ”
“I could do without your sass.”
Ryder smiled. “Sorry. I guess it could work to lure the doctor into an exam room and then trap him there while we grill him.”
“Sounds like a plan. Who’s going to be the patient?”
“You. I already got groped by a doctor.”
“But you have an actual injury you could complain about. Show them your bullet scar.”
“Can’t you complain of female trouble or something?”
I made a face. “So I can get myself a Pap smear? No, thanks.”
“It won’t get to that. I promise.”
Chapter 22
After filling out a mountain of paperwork (using the alias Leslie Kaufman, which Maya and I used anytime we were undercover), I was beginning to think Ryder’s direct approach might have been the way to go. But true to the “Minute Clinic” name, we only waited mere minutes to see a doctor, who we’d requested be Dr. Muniz. The nurse who took us back to the exam room told me to strip down, but I didn’t—like Ryder had said, it wouldn’t get to that.
Glancing around the aging, dingy room, I noticed that there was an abundance of new-looking gadgets—special lights, a defibrillator, a heart monitor, and a fancy computer. “Notice anything unusual in here?”
Ryder tapped the defibrillator. “All the new equipment?”
“Right. This place has been around forever, and I’ve never known it to have up-to-date anything. I always heard the clinic was one step away from closing its doors. Some GPs in town don’t accept government-provided insurance, so this is where people have to go if they don’t have a family doctor. The place is not a cash cow.”
“So the doctors here have to take kickbacks if they want nice things.”
“That’s what I—”
“Knock, knock. Good morning, Ms. Kaufman,” said a cheerful female voice. A beautiful young doctor walked in, smiling wide. “I’m Dr. Sophie Miller. How are we feeling today?”
“Um…I thought I was going to see Dr. Muniz,” I said.
She gestured for me to sit on the exam table. “I’m sorry, Dr. Muniz is tied up with a patient, and we didn’t want you to have to wait.” She took a look at my chart. “Oh, looks like we may be getting some exciting news today.” Turning to Ryder, she asked, “Are you the daddy?”
I’d had a stroke of genius out in the waiting room while filling out my forms. I was going to be “pregnant” with Scott’s child, so I could break down over the fact that he was dead, giving us the perfect lead-in to talk about him. Brilliant plan, except we didn’t take into account we might get the wrong doctor.
Instead of aborting the mission, Ryder stuck to the script. He shook his head, seeming dejected. “No, the uncle. The father is…”
Well, if he was sticking with it, so was I. Maybe we could get something out of Dr. Miller, even if she wasn’t directly involved.
I heaved out a sob. “Dead. He’s dead.”
Dr. Miller’s face fell, and she rushed over to put an arm around me. “Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry to hear that. I see that you have support here, but please know that there’s a lot the clinic can do for you in the way of counseling and other services.”
I sniffed. “I could use some counseling, especially since…since my Scott was…” I broke down, squeezing my eyes to try to get some tears to flow.
His voice grim, Ryder said, “He was murdered.”
Dr. Miller rubbed my back. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Ryder said, “You probably knew him. Scott O’Malley. He was a drug rep for Silver Spruce.”
When her hand froze on my back, I glanced up in time to see recognition on her face.
“Yes, I knew him.”
If she knew him, she probably knew he was married, so that could have been the source of her discomfort. Or she knew something we needed to find out.
I said quietly, “Then you may know that he was married. He was leaving his wife for me.”
She smiled kindly. “No judgment here.”
“Do you know her, too? Mandi?” I asked.
“Not well. She visits Dr. Muniz on occasion.”
“And takes him on tropical fishing trips on occasion, I hear,” I snapped.
Dr. Miller frowned. “I don’t know about that—”
I kept going, raising my voice. “If she wanted a divorce, she should have asked for one instead of sneaking around, buying her new boyfriend expensive things, like ties and cuff links, on the company credit card. I bet she bought all this new equipment you have here just to impress him.”
Dr. Miller took a step back from me. “Hold on there. I can’t speak for Dr. Muniz, but I can tell you our new equipment was donated by a nonprofit organization called Health and Wellness Indiana. They provide much-needed supplies to struggling clinics like this one. I applied for the grants myself. No funny business there.”
I glanced at Ryder, then said, “Well, at least regarding the other stuff she gave him under the table, she blamed Scott for it, and he got fired for giving kickbacks. Then she killed him.” I was aiming for hormonal pregnant lady who’d lost her baby daddy, but I knew I had to be coming off way crazy.
Ryder cleared his throat. “Now, sis. Let’s not bother the doctor with your conspiracy theory. She’s too busy for that.”
She took a step back toward me and put her hand on my shoulder. “Not at all. I have a duty to report violence that harms my patients. I think this is somewhat related. Why do you think the father of your child was murdered by his wife?”
“Well, she’s disappeared, for one. She’d been cheating on him and otherwise treating him horribly. And I know she had the means to poison him.”
“Have you gone to the police with this information?”
I cast my eyes down and cradled my belly protectively. “I’m afraid to. Afraid she’ll try to hurt me, too…I don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize the life of this baby. It’s all I have left of him.” I put my face in my hands and choked out a couple of sobs.
She said, “Let me make some calls.”
On her way out the door, Ryder followed her, saying, “Where’s the restroom?”
While the doctor was occupied, I called Pete, expecting to get his voicemail. He was probably already at work and having to deal with the “momzilla” he’d told me about yesterday. I hated how we’d left things last night, so I took my first opportunity of some alone time to give him a call.
When he said, “Hey, Jules,” my heart gave a little leap.
“Hey. I wanted to call and—”
Pete cut me off. “If you’re going to apologize, don’t. I’m the one who got all angsty over what you told me about your investigation. Please know that I appreciate what you’re doing for both of us. I didn’t mean to come off as such a douche.”
I smiled. “Last I checked, it takes two people to argue.”
“Still. So what are you doing today? Does it include coming home?”
“I hope so. I miss you. Right now, I’m at the Liberty Minute Clinic—”
He cut in again. “What? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s only a prenatal exam.”
There was silence on his end.
I said, “Pete, that was a joke. I’m doing an undercover thing to get some time alone with a doctor.”
“That wasn’t funny, Jules.”
“It was kinda funny.”
“No, not funny.”
“Anyway, I didn’t call to get your panties in a bunch. I just wanted to say hi.”
His voice softened. “Well, I’m glad you did. I want to see you tonight
.”
I got a text from Ryder that read, If you don’t want that Pap smear, you’d better get out of there now. We’ll talk to Muniz later.
To Pete, I said, “Me, too. I gotta go, but I’ll call you later,” and ended the call as I slipped out of the exam room and hurried toward the front door.
I made it to Ryder’s car a few moments before he did. We got in, and he drove us down the block before stopping so we could compare notes.
He said, “The doctor made two calls. The first one was to a friend or acquaintance of Scott’s, I assume, from listening to her end of the conversation. She told whoever it was that a patient had come in raving about Mandi killing Scott. They must have asked her your name, but she wouldn’t give it out, although she gave a physical description of you as well as me. After that, she called the police and gave a statement, this time not giving up any information on you other than calling you ‘a female patient.’ ”
I nodded slowly. “Hmm. Sounds like she knew Scott well enough to know someone who would be interested to know who killed him.”
Ryder shrugged. “That could be any number of people.”
“Right. Well, at least the police have a reason now to start looking at Mandi as the killer. If nothing else, it might goose them into spending a little time looking for her, which isn’t a bad thing either way.”
“No, it isn’t. I think this went well, although we still need to try to run down Muniz. We could stake the place out and hope he leaves the clinic to go get lunch.”
“Ooh, just what I wanted to do today—sit outside in a hot car.”
“Better than a Pap smear. I assume.”
“Eh. Barely.”
He chuckled. “By the way, I think you need to work on your undercover game. That was some over-the-top soap opera acting.”
I hung my head. “I know it was bad. I couldn’t find a good segue between ‘My baby daddy is dead!’ and ‘Where’d you get all these cool new medical supplies?’ ”
“That’s why I advocated for the straightforward approach.”
Wrinkling my nose, I said, “Is this where I have to tell you that you were right and I was wrong?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
My phone rang just then, and it was Lizzie. I said to Ryder, “Ooh, saved by the bell.” I put the call on speaker and said, “Hey, Lizzie. Ryder and I have you on speaker.”
“Hey, guys. We talked to Jason Brooks. Sounds like he encouraged the reps to quietly give out kickbacks, but McKay isn’t so into them. However, since corporate is fairly lax about it, and according to Jason, McKay is—his words—a ‘limp dick manager,’ the reps pretty much do what they want and McKay looks the other way.”
Grinning, Ryder murmured to me, “Jason Brooks’s assessment of McKay is spot on.”
Lizzie continued, “And fun fact—according to Jason, Scott was not the person stealing the samples, at least not while he was there. It was Chandra Thomas.”
“What?” I cried. “Chandra?”
“Her mother, who lives with her, has Parkinson’s, and the cost of the medication for it is astronomical. She only stole that type of drug, if it makes it seem any better. Anyway, Jason demoted Chandra but didn’t fire her or slap her with any criminal charges for theft because he knew she was her mother’s only caregiver.”
I blew out a disgusted breath. “Sweet Chandra lied through her teeth to us.”
“Sounds like it. And Jason also said that when he left, all samples were present and accounted for, so Chandra did in fact stop stealing after she got caught.”
Ryder said, “Good work. Anything else?”
“Nope,” Lizzie replied.
“Okay, we’ll talk later. Thanks,” I said, and ended the call.
Ryder frowned. “So now there’s Parkinson’s drugs missing again, plus antianxiety and heartburn medications. Chandra could have wised up and decided to cover her theft a little better this time, stealing several types of meds to throw the new boss off track.”
“If it’s Chandra doing the stealing, then does the drug theft even have anything to do with Scott’s death?”
“Maybe not.”
“What about Jared stealing the sodium oxybate from Dr. Richardson?”
“Maybe it’s unrelated, and Scott’s death only has to do with the blackmail.”
I scrunched up my face, in deep thought. “But everyone said Scott was using drugs. What’s up with that?”
“ ‘Everyone’ as in all the people who’ve been lying to you throughout this investigation?”
“Plus a couple of people who haven’t.”
“There’s more than one place to get drugs, Scooby.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, your devil’s advocate routine is getting old.”
Ryder grinned at me. “It’s called objectivity, which is an investigator’s best tool.”
“Well, Detective Objectivity, what do you propose we do now?”
“I think we should grab some food and some caffeine and wait for Dr. Muniz to go to lunch. Then we ambush him.”
—
We went to a nearby gas station to stock up for our mini-stakeout. It was ten-thirty, so if Muniz took an early lunch, we weren’t looking at much wait time. If he went late, we could waste a lot of time. After we got our stuff and headed back to Ryder’s car, I got a text. Juggling my thirty-two-ounce soft drink and my junk food in one hand to pluck my phone out of my pocket, I read the first several words of the text that popped up on my home screen, and then my body turned limp. I dropped the snack foods and my drink, which exploded at my feet when it hit the sidewalk.
Ryder said, “What are you doing?”
Frozen, my eyes glued to the text, I managed to choke out, “We need to get to the cabin. Now.”
He knew me well enough to know I wasn’t messing around. He hurried over and steered me to his car, then opened the door and stuffed me inside. Running back around, he jumped into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the parking lot.
“I know that look. Tell me what happened.”
I let out a slow breath. “I got a text from Mandi. I’ll read it.” After taking another breath, I read, “ ‘I can’t take this anymore. I killed Scott. I hated him, but I can’t live with the guilt. I’m at his uncle’s cabin, if you care.’ ”
“That’s a cry for help, but it sounds like we’d better hurry. Call her.”
As Ryder put the gas pedal to the floor, I sat stunned, barely registering the world rushing by at breakneck speed. Even though I’d batted around the idea that Mandi could be to blame for Scott’s untimely death, it was jarring to me to find out that she’d actually killed him. And even more jarring was the fact that she had made the decision to end her own life, as well.
“Juliet, call her,” Ryder snapped.
I managed to break myself out of the fog and with shaking fingers hit the right buttons to place the call. After a few rings, her voicemail picked up. “Mandi, it’s Juliet. Please don’t do anything until I get there. I’m sure we can find a way to work this out. Please, please, wait. I’m on my way.”
I hung up and keyed in a text that said basically the same thing, having to stop every other word and correct the letters my still trembling fingers mistakenly typed in. I called her over and over again, getting voicemail every time.
The trip out to the cabin took considerably less time today. The moment Ryder careened to a stop, a cloud of dust pluming up from the tires, we both jumped out of his vehicle and raced to the front porch. While he pounded on the door and called Mandi’s name, I checked the windows, hoping for a glimpse of life that would assure me it wasn’t too late. Mandi hadn’t answered the door, and the ratty curtains were still drawn tight, so I leaped off the porch and circled around back. The back door was locked, and I couldn’t see in those windows, either. Heading on around, I found the cellar’s storm doors open.
I ran to the opening and called, “Mandi! Mandi! Are you down there?”
Hearing no response, I almos
t turned away. But my gut twinged, and I felt compelled to at least look. I descended the rickety steps, and that taxidermy scent hit me immediately. On the next to bottom step, I stopped dead in my tracks and sucked in a gulp of air. Mandi was hanging by her neck from one of the metal pipes that ran along the ceiling, tongue out, dead-eyed, and still.
Chapter 23
Stifling a sob, I turned away from the sight of Mandi hanging by an old frayed rope she’d no doubt found down here. Why couldn’t she have waited even a few minutes? We could have saved her. It didn’t have to end like this.
My feet were leaden, but I managed to drag myself back up the stairs in time to see Ryder kicking in the front door of the cabin. Before he went in, I called, “Ryder!”
After taking one look at my face, he raced over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Did you find her?”
I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks. “She’s gone.”
He put his arms around me and held me, but not for long enough. “I’m sorry. I hate that you had to find her. But you know the drill from here on out. I need to go check for a pulse and call this in. Will you be okay by yourself?”
I nodded again, afraid I’d totally lose it if I spoke.
Ryder gave me one last squeeze, and then headed down into the cellar. I spent a few excruciating minutes alone, shaking so much I had to sit on the porch steps and so nauseated I couldn’t see straight. He finally emerged, phone at his ear, already on the horn with the local PD.
I picked up the last of his conversation once he got within earshot. “No, no need to rush. I found no pulse.” After a pause, he said, “No, I didn’t touch anything besides her wrist. What, do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?” After another pause, he said, “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be here.”
I couldn’t even fathom going through a round of interrogations about finding another dead body, especially of yet another person I’d had a rocky history with.
Ryder stood in front of me. “You doing okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He sat down next to me on the steps. “At least you’re not too out of it to be sarcastic. That’s something.”
Murder Over Mochas Page 19
