“Jessie, I really appreciate this. Thanks so much.” Sasha had dug into her wallet and fished out a fifty. “I know you said you didn’t want money, but take this and buy dinner for you and Joseph A. Banks out there when the new restaurant opens.
“Joseph A. Who? Oh, you mean that tag on Brandt’s sleeve. Good one.” She’d rolled her eyes.
“Why don’t you tell him to just snip it off?”
“I dunno. I don’t want to embarrass him.” She’d blushed, then laughed.
Now, reading over her notes, Sasha wished she’d given Jessie a hundred.
The pieces of two puzzles were falling into place. She had to hitch a ride to the hospital and talk to Connelly. She’d tried calling his cell phone, but it had rolled straight to voice-mail.
A familiar voice cut through the noise in her head.
“Thanks, Marie,” Gavin Russell said, as he headed out the door with a pastry bag.
She threw the papers in her bag and tossed a ten on the table on top of her bill. She heaved the bag over her shoulder and called out, “Deputy Russell!”
He turned and looked over his shoulder while she ran over to him.
“Sasha, I didn’t see you there.”
“Listen, can you take me to the hospital?”
He hesitated.
“It’s important. And, besides, I need to talk to you about Jed.”
She watched him calculating, weighing Stickley’s annoyance against whatever information she might have.
His curiosity won out and he nodded. “All right.”
He held the diner door open for her and followed her out to the street.
* * * * * * * * * *
They drove in silence through the center of town, which was quiet on a Thursday afternoon.
“So?” Russell said, palming the steering wheel and turning onto the state road that led out to the hospital.
Sasha had been outlining her plan of attack in her head. She had to find out if she could trust him before they got to their destination.
“So, did you hear Jed’s going to be okay?”
Russell took his eyes off the road long enough to give her a worried look. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Sasha. He was in pretty bad shape yesterday.”
“He was,” she agreed. “Was he like that when you found him?”
“Yeah.”
Time for the money question. “What made you just decide to stop in and check on him like that?”
Russell answered immediately. “Doc Spangler asked me to.”
“She did?”
“Sure. I ran into her at Bob’s, as a matter of fact. I was picking up one of Lydia’s pies to take out to my parents. I have dinner with them every Wednesday, and I always bring dessert.”
“Would Doctor Spangler have known about that routine?”
Russell wrinkled his forehead at the question. “Well, I imagine so. Her office is right next door.”
“So, she approached you at the diner and asked you to visit with Jed after your dinner?”
“Right. So?”
“So, she had prescribed an over-the-counter allergy medicine for him that’s known to cause dementia-like symptoms in older people.”
The deputy’s head snapped back like he’d been slapped. “What? Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. Doctor Brown ran blood tests. Once the medication’s cleared Jed’s bloodstream, his confusion and incoherence will disappear.”
He jerked the car to the right and pulled off onto the shoulder. He parked on a wide gravel patch that led to a drilling pad about ten yards away. They watched as a hydraulic lift guided a huge section of pipe to the well head. Two mud-covered men in hardhats nudged the pipe into position and signaled to the drill operator.
Russell turned his body sideways so he was facing Sasha full on.
“You don’t think she did that intentionally, do you?”
“Oh, I know she did. And she used you. She sent you out there knowing what you’d find.”
Disbelief and anger clouded over his face.
She went on, more gently. “Gavin, she testified that she’s had at least ninety patients declared incapacitated and serves as their guardian. I pulled thirty cases where her patients were deemed incapacitated and compared the addresses with recorded oil and gas leases. In all thirty cases, after Spangler took control of the patients’ finances, she had them transferred to one of two assisted living facilities and then entered into hydrofracking leases on their property on their behalf.”
He started to speak, but she kept going. “I compared the recorded leases with her certified annual reports to the Orphans’ Court. She’s been understating the royalty payments by ten percent. Assume the evidence carries through all ninety files. Ten percent of ninety mineral rights leases is a lot of money. Add in the fee the county’s paying her to serve as guardian and, well, it certainly gives her a motive to create incapacitated patients, doesn’t it?”
“But she . . . I . . .”
Russell pounded the steering wheel with his fist.
There was more, but she needed him to calm down and get her to the hospital. She touched his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to stop her.”
“I have to radio Stickley,” he said.
“Please wait until we get to the hospital and make sure she’s even there.”
She’d wait until they were at the hospital to fill him in on Stickley and Heather Price.
He nodded. “That’s good thinking. Let’s go.”
He pulled out, as a convoy of equipment trucks came roaring up the road.
CHAPTER 40
Heather slammed the closet door and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She leaned in close to check her makeup, then hung her pocketbook over her wrist and turned out the light.
As she backed the pickup out of the driveway, she cursed Stickley and her sister. She didn’t trust either one of them not to mess up. She’d just drive over to the hospital, find this federal agent, and see for herself whether he was a problem.
She punched Bob’s number into her cell phone.
“Heather,” Bob purred, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Although he was on the short list of husband candidates for when the old man expired, she ignored the flirtation.
“Things are spinning out of control, Bob.”
She palmed the steering wheel and accelerated down the ramp to the interstate, cutting off one of her own commercial trucks, probably headed out to a drilling site.
“How so?”
“Well, let’s see. We have a dead judge, but still no tape. That lawyer you appointed is hanging around town, stirring up trouble. And Stickley and my sister tell me there’s a federal agent sniffing around.”
“Sasha’s back?”
“Yes. Although apparently, that’s Shelly’s fault. Listen, I think I can still salvage the hotel deal, if we can get that freaking tape. Stickley thinks the lawyer has it. Is he right?”
Bob took a minute to answer. “I doubt it, Heather. If she had the tape, she would have pushed back when I shut down the investigation. Stickley’s just trying to cover his ass because he can’t find it.”
Heather breathed out. “Okay, that’s what I think, too. I have an idea to keep your lawyer out of our hair, but it means sacrificing Stickley. I assume that’s okay with you?”
Bob’s only answer was to roar with laughter.
“Good then, we’re in agreement.”
She smiled and ended the call, then checked her rearview mirror. The left lane was clear, so she slid over and gunned the engine.
CHAPTER 41
Leo sat in a small metal chair that he’d dragged over and positioned in front of Jed’s hospital door. So far, the only person to come by had been Dr. Brown, who reported the drugs were clearing Jed’s system and he was starting to come out of his haze.
With Dr. Spangler nowhere to be found, Leo, unfortunately, had plenty of time to mull over his earlier conversation with Sasha. He f
elt like a jerk. A needy, insecure jerk.
It wasn’t like him to push an issue, but Sasha’s blanket refusal to acknowledge his feelings had been eating at him. He wished he’d kept it to himself at least until they’d gotten a handle on the situation in this town. His regret and worry about their discussion was making his stomach flip. Or else he was hungry. He hoped Sasha’d show up soon, maybe with some lunch.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. Not Sasha. A 202 telephone number. Looked like the Bureau, but not an extension he knew.
“Connelly.”
“Connelly, it’s Stock. I only have a minute. I have information for you. Can you talk?”
Connelly wasn’t sure calling from the office was the smartest idea, if Stock was trying to operate under the radar, but it wasn’t his neck.
“Sure,” he said.
“Okay. My section chief called me in until this blows over, so I’m using my neighbor’s office. If she comes back from lunch, I’m going to disconnect the call.”
Maybe Stock wasn’t entirely stupid.
“Understood. So what do you have?”
“Heather is the older sister by two years. Apparently, she was always the pretty, popular sister. Heather moved out at eighteen and tried her hand at modeling and acting. She spent time in New York and got a few commercial spots. Apparently, there was a pregnancy in the mid-80’s, father unknown, pregnancy terminated either naturally or by abortion; it wasn’t clear. She moved back to Springport and married a local businessman, Lewis Price, who was thirty-some years her senior. By the mid-90’s, she had taken over all his business interests. She ran for county commissioner for the first time in 1998 and has been reelected each term since then.”
“What about Shelly?”
“Shelly was a late bloomer, studious and quiet. She went to Ohio State and was a pre-med major. Completed medical school at Temple and stayed in Philadelphia for her residency. She was briefly married to an accountant in Philadelphia. They divorced after a year and she moved home to care for her mother until the mother’s death two years later. She remarried. Clint Spangler runs the hardware store. She opened her medical practice right after they married. She maintains a low profile, in contrast to her sister.”
“Shelly and Heather are said to have a typical sister relationship, with periods of closeness and bouts of disagreements. Does that sound typical?”
“I don’t know, I’m an only child.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Stock said. He continued, “Shelly supported Heather’s various runs for office. Heather and her husband have the Spanglers over for dinner every Sunday.”
“What about the thing Sasha heard. Anything about Heather using her position as commissioner?”
“Sure. Nothing solid, but none of my sources doubted that she does it.”
Connelly stretched his leg out straight trying to get more comfortable on the chair and asked, “How are their finances?”
“Both sisters are cash-positive. Shelly’s sitting on seven hundred and fifty thousand liquid or easily obtained. Heather’s got more like a million cash, spread out across several accounts. Neither husband is a signatory on any bank account.”
Connelly gave a low whistle.
“Yeah,” Stock agreed. “I guess watching your father lose a fortune then eat a gun will make a girl want to have a nice-sized nest egg. Shelly keeps it simple, real estate concerns and the profits from her practice. Heather’s got investments all over the place, probably as a result of all the quid pro quo arrangements she’s got. She’s got the trucking business, of course, and has an interest in a construction company. She’s also a backer for the restaurant that’s about to open in town and is pushing for some kind of hotel deal. The only real interesting thing is that the sisters both make fairly regular deposits to and withdrawals from their mother’s old checking account. They’re both signatories, so I guess it’s okay that they still use it. But, they seem to be using it to transfer money back and forth. Heather deposits forty grand; Shelly takes it out. Shelly deposits twenty-five grand; Heather withdraws it. If you want to get the white collar fraud guys or the money-laundering pros involved, that’s on you.”
“No, not yet. Listen,” Connelly began, but the sudden silence of a call being disconnected filled his ear.
It appeared Stock’s office neighbor had returned from lunch.
Connelly tipped the chair back on two legs and considered Stock’s information.
CHAPTER 42
Jed pushed himself up on his elbows and tried to make sense of what the fresh-faced Dr. Brown had told him. Apparently, his allergy drugs were making him sick? His head was still thick and he had to struggle to remember, but the last thing he recalled was Gavin Russell pounding on his front door.
He’d just come back from feeding the ducks and was feeling woozy. He thought he might have fallen trying to answer the door, but he really couldn’t be sure.
Whatever the case, he’d told young Dr. Brown he wanted to get out of this hospital room pronto. Jed knew how hospitals worked. When Marla had been sick, the bills from the hospital stays made him want to vomit right alongside her. Ten dollars for an aspirin. Five more for a bandage. He’d refused to drink the water Dr. Brown had offered until he’d been assured it was free.
He reached for it now and took a long, cold swallow. It tasted like heaven. Like the water in the creek used to taste, before it took on the taste of the salt and sand and God knew what else that was being dumped in it.
Brown hadn’t said it, but Jed could tell it was no accident he was here. Doc Spangler was behind this. He knew it.
What Brown had said was that Sasha was back in town and would be coming to see him. Jed was surprised by how glad that news made him. Despite her size, that girl packed a wallop. She’d get him the hell out of here.
Harry Paulson had known what he was doing when he put her on Jed’s case. Poor old Harry.
Jed reached for the water again and, as he did, he could have sworn his bed shook. He waited a minute but nothing else happened. He figured he must still be loopy from the drugs.
CHAPTER 43
As Sasha and Russell hurried down the corridor toward Jed’s hospital room, the rapid beat of their shoes against the tile caught Connelly’s attention and he sat up straighter.
Sasha stopped in front of his chair. She hoped the way they’d left things at the apartment wasn’t going to cause any awkwardness. She inclined her head toward Jed’s door. “How is he?”
Connelly grinned. “Pissed off. Doc Brown thinks he can go home today.”
A smile broke across Russell’s grim face in response.
Connelly continued, “But only if Spangler signs off on it. She’s still the treating.”
Russell’s smile vanished.
“How’d she take the news about the new orders?” Sasha asked.
Connelly shook his head. “She hasn’t made her way over here yet. I talked to Jonas. Gloria is stable and in good spirits, by the way. Anyhow, Spangler started her rounds this morning and checked on Gloria. Brown said she disappeared late morning. But, she sets her own schedule. So, she can come by any time.”
“Have you been sitting here all day?” Russell asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll spell you,” he said. “Go get a cup of coffee or take a leak or whatever.”
Connelly didn’t protest. He stood up and motioned that the chair was all Russell’s.
“Thanks, man.” He turned to Sasha. “Walk with me?”
As they walked away, her shoulder brushed against his side and he gave her that lopsided smile that made her heart skip.
She was about to launch into her discovery, but he pulled her into a quiet hallway near a set of vending machines and said, “Agent Stock called me. I was talking to him when you called earlier.”
He fed two quarters into the coffee machine and filled a Styrofoam cup. He fed two more quarters into the snack machine and scored a bag of hard pretzels.
&nbs
p; Sasha grimaced, “I should have brought you something from Bob’s. I didn’t think.”
“It’s okay.”
He tore into the package of pretzels and broke off a large chunk.
She waited until he finished chewing and asked, “So Stock?”
Connelly ran down the background information that Stock had provided. Then he said, “So, to summarize, they have a lot of money, but nothing illegal jumped out at Stock. Those transfers back and forth seem hinky to me, though. Might be something there.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow. “There’s something there, all right. Shelly specializes in boring state crimes that definitely wouldn’t attract the attention of the FBI. But, I am sure Heather’s getting a cut. Heather’s more of an arm-twisting extortionist, but since she’s paying off the local sheriff and the Pennsylvania Attorney General, I doubt anyone’s brought it to the notice of the federal government.”
Connelly leaned forward, instantly interested.
Sasha went on. “As far as I can tell, until recently, Heather’s activities might have been considered self-dealing or greedy, but not illegal.”
Connelly said, “And recently?”
“What do you call murdering a judge?”
Then the lights went out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Gavin Russell used the time sitting outside Jed’s door to radio the sheriff.
“Sir, what’s your location?”
“County General,” Stickley replied. “Visiting with Mrs. Burke.”
“Have you seen Doc Spangler?”
“Matter a fact, she just walked by.”
Russell thought fast. “Can you grab her and bring her to Jed Craybill’s room, sir. Craybill is in distress and I don’t know where Dr. Brown is.”
“Roger that.”
Russell clicked off the radio. Sasha would be pleased that he’d lured Spangler to them, he thought. Just then the floor vibrated and his chair rattled against the wall behind him.
He heard Jed Craybill yell out from his hospital room. “What the Sam hell?!”
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