Then the lights went out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Heather was in the hospital lobby when the ground shuddered and the space was plunged into darkness. As the security guard came around from his station to try to calm the small crowd of visitors and patients milling around, she slipped into the stairwell and headed up the stairs.
She’d just have to walk around the hospital until she found Shelly. She didn’t have time to wait until the power outage or whatever it was had ended. She’d start with the doctors’ lounge. Maybe she’d get lucky and catch her there.
As she trudged up the stairs, Heather worked through the plan.
Shelly’s office was right next to Bob’s Diner. If Shelly happened to have been in the front of her building last Tuesday afternoon, Heather knew she’d have had a good visual on the shooter who picked off the judge.
The shooter, Heather knew, had taken up position in the narrow alley that ran alongside the squat Methodist church anchoring the west end of the square. The church provided cover from the side of the street where the courthouse sat, and, because of the massive stone wall that ran between the church and the alley, it also partially blocked the view from the east. But, from Shelly’s front office window, one could clearly see if someone had set up a sniper’s nest in the alley.
Shelly was going to remember seeing Sheriff Stickley in that alley. At the time, it wouldn’t have seemed odd to her, but now, she was going to realize she needed to tell someone.
Heather hadn’t quite decided if she was going to use a carrot or a stick to help Shelly with her memory, but figured she’d make that call on the fly.
As she passed the third landing, with just one floor left to go, the door from the third floor opened, and she looked over her shoulder to see Shelly and Stickley enter the stairway.
The door swung closed behind them and she turned to face them.
“I was looking for you,” she said to her sister.
Shelly pasted on a smile and chirped, “You found me!”
Ignoring Stickley, Heather said, “Did you get rid of the lawyer like I told you to?”
“Um, not yet. I’m on my way to Jed’s room now. Apparently, he’s taken a turn for the worse, which is good. I’m sure Sasha will realize it’s over and leave.”
Stickley guffawed. “Right.”
Heather turned to him, “I’m glad you’re here, too. This will save me some time. Let’s go.”
Shelly and Stickley fell silent, and the three walked together up the dim stairs.
CHAPTER 44
When the emergency generator whirred to life, a series of alarms sounded. Translucent boxes mounted at the end of each hall emitted a wail and a pulsing strobe light for a solid minute.
Then the loudspeaker system clicked on in a burst of static. A preternaturally calm male voice came through the speakers: “Do not panic. The hospital-wide earthquake plan is in effect. Shelter in place. Do not, repeat, do not attempt to leave the building. Take cover in a doorway, hallway, or against an inside wall. Stay with your patients. Turn off all nonessential equipment. Do not panic.”
Sasha and Connelly ran along the hallway and skidded to a stop in front of Russell.
“Did he say earthquake?” Sasha asked.
“Yep,” Russell said.
“There’s a fault line here?” Connelly pressed him.
“Yep,” Russell responded again. “A minor fault that had been inactive until Big Sky and friends started injecting wastewater into disposal wells situated along it.”
“Fracking causes earthquakes?”
Russell remained unruffled. “More like tremors. The theory is the sustained pressure of the injection wells may cause minor seismic activity.”
He shrugged and then said, “Oh, I have a location on Doctor Spangler. I asked the sheriff to tell her Craybill is in distress and we can’t find Brown. They were leaving Gloria’s room before the tremor hit.”
“Stickley’s with her?”
“Correct.”
Sasha looked at Connelly, then back to Russell.
“We have a problem,” she began.
Beside her Connelly made a sharp hissing sound.
She turned to see Spangler and Stickley hustling down the hall along with a bombshell in a tight, purple, boucle dress. The woman made Spangler look plain by comparison.
“How is he?” Spangler said, breathless.
“You know,” Russell said, “I think it was a false alarm. He seems okay now.” He smiled at her, sheepish and apologetic.
Annoyance flashed in her eyes. “I should check on him in any event.”
Sasha cleared her throat. “I believe you need his guardian’s approval, Dr. Spangler. And we can’t seem to locate Dr. Brown.”
The doctor turned to her and snapped, “Of all the petty, short-sighted nonsense.”
The other woman spoke up. “Shelly, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Spangler bit her lip. “Sure, sorry. Sasha McCandless, this is my sister, Commissioner Heather Price. Heather, this is Attorney McCandless.”
Price flashed a wide smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. McCandless. Bob Griggs speaks so highly of you.”
Sasha smiled back at her. Her mind was in overdrive. All the local players were here. What was going on?
Connelly cleared his throat. “Special Agent Leo Connelly, Department of Homeland Security,” he said to the sisters.
“So,” Sasha said, trying to ignore the questions swirling in her head, “Deputy Russell was just telling us about the fracking earthquakes, Commissioner.”
Price nodded, “It’s troubling, isn’t it? That’s one reason the commission thought it appropriate to vote to consider the drilling moratorium.”
Spangler’s eyes shifted between her sister and the sheriff.
She started to ease her way to the edge of the cluster, as if she might take off down the hallway. Connelly caught it and moved to stand between her and the door to the stairs.
Russell and Stickley each rested a hand on the butt of his weapon.
Only Price seemed completely relaxed.
Prevent. Avoid. De-escalate. Krav Maga’s pre-fight mantra ran through Sasha’s head.
Sasha moved so she was blocking the door to Jed’s room. As she did, the floor shifted under her feet and she braced herself against the wall.
The movement triggered the strobe lights and the announcement.
As soon as it was quiet, Russell said, “Dr. Spangler, you might be interested to know that Dr. Brown ran some tests this morning.”
Spangler’s eyes darted from Russell to Price.
“Heather,” she bleated.
“What kind of tests, deputy?” Price asked.
Here we go, Sasha thought, not at all sure prevention was still viable.
“Turns out, old Jed’s not suffering from dementia. He’s suffering from an incompetent doctor. Or worse.”
Spangler smiled. “I’m sure there’s been some mistake.”
Russell shook his head. “I don’t think so, Shelly. How dare you use me.”
He moved toward her, his handcuffs in his right hand.
“Sheriff,” he said, “this woman has been having her patients declared incompetent so she can take over their land and lease the mineral rights. She’s misusing civil process.”
Stickley chewed his lip for a minute, and then snuck a peek at Price. Her face was a mask, providing no guidance, so finally he said, “Detain her. We’ll take her to Dogwood Station. Make her their problem.”
As Russell snapped the bracelets around her wrists, Spangler begged her sister to intercede.
“Heather, please!”
“Deputy,” Price said in a soft, calm voice, “you might want to reconsider.”
Russell looked at her in disbelief.
“Why’s that, Commissioner?”
“Well, I think—and, Shelly, correct me if I’m wrong—but I think my sister has information about the judge’s murder.”
Stickley and Spangler both snapped their heads toward Price.
Russell turned and looked at the doctor.
Handcuffed now, she tried to raise her hands in a confused gesture.
“Heather, what are you talking about?”
“Tell them, Shelly. Tell them what you told me, how you saw Sheriff Stickley in the alley beside the church on Tuesday afternoon right before the judge was killed.”
Spangler looked at her sister, confusion painted across her face.
“Wait? Wha—”
Stickley erupted at Price. “You dirty little tramp!”
He pulled his weapon.
Price mocked him. “Are you going to shoot me the way you shot the judge?”
Russell’s eyes ping-ponged from Stickley to Spangler to Price.
Connelly moved around behind Stickley.
Price went on. “He killed Judge Paulson, deputy. Shelly has information placing him at the scene. And I think, if you check the alley, you’ll find the angle lines up.”
Russell released Spangler and drew his own gun. He trained it on his boss.
“Sir?”
“She’s lying, Russell. She shot Paulson because she wants that tape. All I did was go into the office to get it after she blasted him to kingdom come, but it was already gone.”
Price laughed. “You don’t seriously expect anyone to believe you, do you, Carl? Especially not when Shelly’s willing to trade what she knows for some consideration on this misunderstanding about Mr. Craybill.”
She looked meaningfully at her sister.
Stickley’s face was red and his hand was shaking.
Sasha spoke to Stickley in a calm, quiet voice. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it, sheriff? You’ve done everything she’s asked. You stole the tapes, framed PORE, and even put up with the attorney general’s interference. And now she’s going to sell you out to save her sister? This is the woman you’re in business with?”
The violet eyes flashed at Sasha.
“Shut up,” Price warned in a low throaty voice.
Sasha turned to her.
“Or what? Don’t you see it’s over? For all of you. Springport Hospitality Partners has a paper trail, Commissioner. Everyone’s going to connect the dots. It doesn’t matter who pulled the trigger. The three of you are done. Griggs might weasel his way out of it, but you three are toast.”
Connelly crept up behind the sheriff, ready to tackle him.
Spangler blurted out, “No, it’s true. Like Heather said. I saw him.”
Stickley turned from Price to Spangler and, as he did, Connelly knocked the gun from his hand. It skittered across the floor and landed at Price’s feet. Sasha lunged for it, but Price got there first.
As Connelly restrained the sheriff with his own set of handcuffs, Price trained the gun on Sasha.
Spangler flattened herself against the wall, and Russell turned his weapon on Price.
Despite being on the business end of a gun, Sasha felt a perverse relief that they were now down to four active players and two handcuffed observers.
“Heather, don’t,” her sister croaked. “It’s over.”
“Shh, Shelly, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Heather motioned with the gun to Sasha.
“Give me the tape.”
“Sure thing,” Sasha said, nice and calm. “I’m reaching into my bag to get it.”
She slowly raised her hands to show she had a tape recorder. She popped the cassette deck and removed the little tape.
Then, she showed Price the tape. “See? Here it is. Let’s trade.”
Price threw back her head and howled with laughter. “Let’s not.”
Sasha shrugged and tossed the tape at the woman’s feet.
Price looked around the circle. Russell and Connelly both had their weapons trained on her now, but she seemed not to notice.
Spangler, having fully accepted her fate, decided to try to help her sister come to the same conclusion.
“Heather, honey. Put the gun down. It’s all over. Our deals, the commissioner job, everything. We’re a disgrace. No different than dad.”
“Don’t you say that, don’t you dare!” Price waved the gun at her sister.
“It’s true, Heather. We’re finished. Just, put down the gun.”
“No.”
“Heather, you know I was at my front window Tuesday afternoon?”
Price’s head snapped back.
“What?”
“I was. And I did see someone in the alley.”
Spangler was shaking now, tears flowing.
“Stop it,” Price said.
“It’s true.”
“Stop it.”
“I saw you. With Lewis’s old hunting rifle. Your truck was parked in front of the alley, blocking the street side, but I saw you. I saw you, Heather. One perfect shot. Then you picked up your shell, put Lew’s gun back in the gun rack, and drove away. I saw you!” Spangler was screaming and shaking.
Price jerked the gun, and Russell dove in front of Spangler.
But Price’s target wasn’t her sister.
She turned Stickley’s gun around and aimed it at the roof of her mouth. Sasha turned her head.
One echoing bang later, the white tile wall behind Heather Price was a mist of red blood and gray matter.
CHAPTER 45
Two weeks later
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Day two of grand jury testimony of Sasha McCandless, Esquire
Sasha paused after she described the wall, covered with Commissioner Price’s brain matter and bits of skull. She took a slow sip of water from the heavy glass on the witness table before continuing.
“At that point, Special Agent Connelly and Deputy Russell secured the scene and called the state police to take Sheriff Stickley and Doctor Spangler into custody.”
She caught the eye of her attorney, Will Volmer, and he nodded his reassurance. Although Chief Justice Bermann himself had promised her she didn’t need counsel and, under the Investigating Grand Jury Act, her attorney wasn’t permitted to make objections or address the grand jurors, Sasha had known from the minute she’d received the witness subpoena that she wouldn’t be walking into the grand jury room alone. When the head of Prescott & Talbott’s white collar crimes practice had volunteered for the role, she’d agreed in a heartbeat.
The special prosecutor, Aroostine Higgins, looked down at her notepad and then asked, “Why do you think Heather Price killed herself?”
“I don’t know. Her sister had just implicated her in the murder of a sitting judge; maybe she didn’t want to face the scandal and criminal proceedings that would follow. Maybe she couldn’t stand the thought of losing everything she’d worked for. Maybe there’s a suicide gene, and she had it. I honestly don’t know. I just know that she did it, and she did it too fast for any of us to have prevented it.”
Aroostine had made it clear to Will that she just wanted information from Sasha so she could develop her case against Griggs and Stickley. Spangler was Drew Showalter’s problem, as he had been appointed special prosecutor by Judge Canaby to investigate the Orphans’ Court issues in Clear Brook County.
Will trusted the young Native American attorney who Chief Justice Bermann had appointed to dig into the misuse of the Attorney General’s Office and the county sheriff’s office. That was good enough for Sasha.
“She’s a real up-and-comer,” Will had told Sasha. “And her name means sparkling water.”
Sasha figured it was only fitting that someone named sparkling water was responsible for cleaning up the mess in Clear Brook County.
“Ms. McCandless, let’s go back to the tape and the declaratory judgment action. Can you explain to the grand jurors what the judge’s opinion held and why it was important?”
“Sure, after the county commissioners fast-tracked Springport Hospitality Partners’ request for a liquor license for the café, Commissioner Price realized how easily she could control the process.
Keystone Properties owns a large parcel of land in Firetown that it rented to a nutritional supplement company as a distribution center. When the landlord hosted a campaign event for Commissioner Price, she recognized the value of the land. But, it was too late. Keystone had already signed a memorandum of understanding with Big Sky. They were going to work out a way for Big Sky to tap the shale below while VitaMight continued to operate the distribution center above.”
“And VitaMight was your client?” Aroostine prompted her.
“Right. The client whose discovery motion I had just argued when Judge Paulson appointed me to represent Mr. Craybill.”
“Thank you. Please go on.”
Will patted a hand on the table. His signal that she should slow down, walk the grand jurors through it step by step.
Sasha took a long breath before she continued. “She wanted that land, though. She and her sister, the two partners in Springport Hospitality Partners drew up a bid to buy it outright and build a resort hotel. The kind of place that would appeal to all the outsiders coming to Springport for the gas. It would be a cash cow.”
“Go on.”
“Keystone Properties wasn’t interested. So, when Danny Trees showed up with his petition, Commissioner Price pushed it through, then used it to convince Keystone Properties to break its lease with its tenant, back out of the mineral rights deal, and sell the land to her. And, of course, she also pushed the hotel plans through and got her fellow commissioners to approve them. She wasn’t counting on Big Sky suing, though. It asked Judge Paulson to declare the approval of the hotel plans invalid and to reinstate the deal it had with Keystone Properties.”
Aroostine asked, “So, first she had someone threaten Judge Paulson to try to get him to rule against Big Sky?”
“Not exactly threaten. As I understand it, she harassed the county solicitor, Drew Showalter, to ‘do something’ to convince the judge he had to uphold the hotel deal. To be honest, I think Mr. Showalter was actually trying to warn Judge Paulson with his quote from The Godfather. He was signaling that this was a money grab. He was in a difficult spot, with a difficult client, but he did try to let people know that she had a hold on the commissioners.”
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