Her Mr. Right?

by Karen Rose Smith

  Snatching the ball from him, Chad made another shot. “See what I mean? Distracted. Because of her, I’ll bet. She didn’t seem very happy, either.”

  “I guess not,” Neil muttered.

  “I heard her telling my mom you got her suspended and she might even lose her license.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” He’d been tempted to go to Pine Ridge and question the staff himself. But the hospital’s lawyer was doing that. And Neil couldn’t interfere. The phrase by the book rang in his ears again.

  “Neil?” Chad asked him.

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you and Aunt Iz even talking?”

  “No.”

  “How are you going to get back together if you’re not even talking?”

  Back together. Had they been together? He thought about the weekend in Cranshaw. He thought of the week afterward. Of how many times they’d made love. The ways they’d made love. The conversations after they’d made love. He’d talked about his childhood and so had she. They’d talked about their college years. They’d kissed and connected and—he’d known all that time he’d have to report Isobel to her supervisor.

  By the book. His job didn’t give him the satisfaction it used to and he’d hated keeping something from Isobel.

  “What’s the problem, Neil?” Chad asked, standing still now.

  “My job’s the problem.” Then he thought about that statement. “Nix that. I’m the problem. For so many years I’ve lived by rules and regulations that they’ve become second nature to me. I put my job and what I’m doing here ahead of Isobel’s feelings.”

  After a thoughtful silence, Chad asked, “Remember when you asked me if my wanting a car was more important than Stephanie?”

  “I remember.”

  “Is your job more important than Aunt Iz? If it is, then what she thinks and feels doesn’t matter. But if it isn’t, if she’s more important—”

  Chad had decidedly turned the tables on him. Neil thought about not caring about Isobel, what she thought and felt. He considered not seeing her again. Not kissing her again. Not holding her again. A video played in his mind of the last couple of years, of his work, of his life, of his practically empty apartment, of the days on the road and the nights in motels. The work had been important. But now, being here in Walnut River, this job, this investigation, seemed to be all smoke and mirrors. He’d let it come first out of habit, not out of a great deal of thought. Whenever he pictured himself going back to Boston without Isobel, not seeing her for weeks on end, now maybe not seeing her ever, he knew that wasn’t right for his life. He knew—

  That he loved her.

  How could he have thought that this affair with her was just about sex? How had he ever thought that betraying her wouldn’t push them apart?

  Deep down, had he wanted to push them apart? Did he feel that unworthy of being loved?

  The question was immense and couldn’t be answered easily. Couldn’t be answered here and now.

  Chasing the ball that had rolled down the driveway, he scooped it up and dribbled it back to the net. “Game on,” he said to Chad. “I bet I can recover those points.”

  The beep-beep-beep from his cell phone, which was lying with his keys and his wallet and duffel bag near the porch, stalled the game once more. As he jogged to retrieve it he called to Chad, “We’ll get this going again in a minute.” He opened the phone and saw Isobel’s number. His heart began racing. Did she want to talk to him? Was it possible she could forgive him?

  “Isobel?”

  “Neil, I need to talk to you. I’ve been driving around and around, trying to decide what to do.”

  “What happened?”

  She hesitated.

  “Isobel, you can trust me.”

  “No. No, I can’t.”

  His heart ached when she said those words, but he knew they were true. She didn’t think she could trust him. Coaxing wouldn’t make her open up to him. But she had called him, so he waited, hoping.

  “I have to see you. I might have information that could end your investigation.”

  The constriction in his chest loosened a little because she wanted to see him. “I’m at your sister’s, playing basketball with Chad. Do you want to come over here?”

  Silence echoed back and forth for a few moments.

  “I don’t want to get Debbie involved in this. The Crab Shack is closed today. How about if I meet you there?”

  “You want to make sure you’re not seen with me.”

  “You don’t want to be seen with me, Neil. Remember? Your investigation comes first. I’m putting it first. I’ll see you there in ten minutes.”

  He took the phone from his ear, stared at her number and then closed it. She’d told him. And there hadn’t been a hint of forgiveness in her tone. Maybe betrayal didn’t deserve forgiveness. But he was glad she had called him. And whatever she had found out, he’d use it to clear her, to get this job over and done with and then to get on with his life.

  Right now, he just wasn’t sure whether Isobel would be in it or not.

  Fifteen minutes later, Neil waited for Isobel at the same table where they’d shared a basket of crabs after he’d first arrived in Walnut River. As he watched her park and climb out of her car, he knew she was remembering, too. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and her expression was sad.

  Wearing jeans and a red knit top, she approached him slowly. He could tell she’d lost weight. From the bike riding regimen she had started? Or because, like him, she had no appetite anymore?

  It was the last week in May. Birds twittered in the trees and the long, green grass swayed in the wind. Yellow and blue irises bloomed in clumps along the path to The Crab Shack, while tiny yellow flowers blossomed in the field. He wished, oh, how he wished, he was meeting Isobel here for a romantic rendezvous.

  Stopping a few feet from him, she glanced over her shoulder as if she were afraid someone was following her. “I know who your mole is. It’s West MacGregor.”

  The accountant. Neil remembered the man who had been cooperative, but not too cooperative—who had defended Walnut River, but who had asked questions of his own. “How do you know?”

  “I went to visit his mother at Pine Ridge.” If Isobel expected a comment from him, she didn’t get it. If she wanted to visit her former patients, that was her business—at Pine Ridge or anywhere else.

  “I heard from one of the aides I interviewed that she has dementia?”

  Without commenting on that, Isobel explained, “Today Florence was alert and quite talkative. I thought West took her on a vacation last fall. That was the story they both told. But today I learned he took her to Boston, probably to be evaluated for Alzheimer’s. He also showed her around an upscale nursing facility for Alzheimer’s patients. And I do mean upscale. It’s nothing he could afford on his salary. When Florence told me about it and I questioned her more, it seems West is being paid by Northeastern HealthCare. Their logo is a stethoscope with their initials. Florence described it as being on an envelope with cash she found in West’s desk.”

  Neil considered everything Isobel had told him. “He could deny all of this. It’s his word against his mother’s.”

  “You mean this information isn’t useful?” Isobel looked crestfallen. She’d thought she had discovered the answer to the problems at Walnut River and he’d just told her she hadn’t.

  He reached out and grabbed her arm. “We can use this, Isobel.”

  When she pulled away from him, their gazes met, and he saw the distrust in hers. “I’ll make something work. I want your name cleared as much as you do.”

  His words obviously surprised her. “I doubt that.”

  “I will do anything to clear your name. I got you into this mess. If I hadn’t pushed so hard, if I had stayed away from you, no one would have seen you as a threat.”

  She seemed to consider that. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll have to convince someone to feed information to
West MacGregor—information he can use against the hospital. If he calls it into my supervisor’s office again, then we’ll know he’s the mole.”

  She stood very still and studied him carefully. “I’ll do it.”

  “No. I don’t want you any more involved in this than you are.”

  “We don’t want him to get suspicious.”

  “You’re suspended. You don’t have the opportunity to tell him anything.”

  “I’ll make the opportunity to drop off some papers to Margaret that I filled out for the review. I know when West takes his break. He does it like clockwork. I’ll pretend I’m looking for Simone in the lounge.”

  “And what if someone else walks in?”

  “I’ll make it work, Neil. I don’t know why you’re having a problem with this. You were ready to use me as a pawn before the review board.”

  He couldn’t deny her accusation and her blow struck hard. If he told her now he’d made a mistake—

  Anything personal between them had to wait until this was all over. He didn’t want her to feel used again. He didn’t want to make her promises he couldn’t keep. He had to make a few decisions on his own before he could tell her what she meant to him. He had to be ready for action…because words wouldn’t mean anything now. Not to Isobel.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? A few of the personnel I interviewed this week want to get to the bottom of this as much as I do. I think they’d be cooperative and could feed information to West.”

  “I know West. He’ll believe me. And he has to believe what we tell him.”

  “Do you know what you’ll say?”

  “I’ll keep it simple. I can be righteously indignant about the whole proceeding, proclaim my innocence, then tell him I know specific instances where patients were charged for medicine they never received.”

  “Were they?”

  “No. But West doesn’t have to know that.”

  “He might want specifics.”

  “I’ll give him specifics. I’ll give him fake names.”

  “He could check.” Neil knew he was playing devil’s advocate, but he wanted this to work.

  “Yes, he could. But I doubt if he will. Sure, everything’s computerized. But you saw what it was like trying to go through the files. Sometimes you can find what you’re looking for and sometimes you can’t. Do you know how many patients go through our hospital in a year? He’d never expect me to lie to him.”

  “What if Florence tells him you were there asking questions?”

  “I didn’t really ask questions. I just guided her. He won’t think it’s unusual that I stopped in if she even remembers to mention it. If we do this right away, we should have our best shot.”

  “I admire your courage in doing this.” He wanted to kiss her, give her a hug, show her how much he did care.

  “It’s not courage. It’s fear and desperation.”

  “You’ll tell him tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow.” She checked her watch. “Dad will be worried about me. I need to go home.” She turned to walk away.

  “Isobel?”

  Although she stopped, she didn’t turn around. Maybe because she guessed he had something personal to say.

  “When this is all over, you and I need to talk.”

  If she heard him, she didn’t acknowledge that she did. She went to her car, climbed in and drove away.

  Neil was so tempted to go after her. Even if he did, she still wouldn’t trust him. Even if he did, she still might not forgive him.

  He had to prove to her he cared about her. And he would, when this was all over.

  When this was all over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I don’t like this,” Neil said for at least the fifth time, as his fingers accidently brushed the undercup of Isobel’s bra.

  In the garage to the rear of her dad’s property, he finished fastening a piece of tape on the wire that Isobel would be wearing during her conversation with West MacGregor. The warrant that he’d picked up from the district attorney was stuffed into his inside jacket pocket. The Walnut River chief of police, Rod Duffy, would be meeting him at the hospital in plain clothes.

  Isobel didn’t flinch at his almost intimate touch. But she didn’t look at him, either. This was probably more difficult for her than for him. After all, he wanted to be touching her. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

  “West is the mole,” Isobel protested. “If I can get him to admit it and you have it on tape, you can close your investigation.”

  The information Isobel had fed West yesterday had been called into Neil’s supervisor. West was obviously desperate, using anything he could get hold of. But they needed the proof that he was the man behind the digitally altered voice.

  “I don’t want you to push him.” Neil finished with the adhesive tape and adjusted the wire. Afterward he took Isobel by the shoulders. “If you can’t get anything out of him, you leave. Owen Randall, the chief of police and I will be two offices away. That one was empty and we won’t arouse anyone’s suspicions by being there.”

  Isobel buttoned the blouse that complemented her skirt and reached for her jacket. “You’ll be able to hear everything?”

  “Everything.”

  Neil stooped to the ground to toss the tape into the duffel bag he’d used to carry the equipment. He glanced over at Isobel.

  Staring at the bag, her voice was soft and shaky when she asked, “I don’t really know you at all, do I?”

  They had to be at the hospital in fifteen minutes and couldn’t talk about this now. “You do know me, Isobel. This is just another part of my job. White-collar crime is still crime.”

  She finished buttoning her jacket, felt for the small microphone and asked, “Can you see anything?”

  Her face reddened when he took an extra few seconds to assess her appearance. “You look normal. I can’t tell a thing. Give me a five minute head start. After I park at the back entrance, I’ll come up the stairs. And don’t worry. I’ll be in place before you get to West’s office.”

  “How will I know for sure?”

  “You’re going to have to trust me, Isobel.”

  Neil could feel her eyes on his back as he left, hoping their plan worked…hoping even more fervently Isobel would place her trust in him again.

  Isobel shook as she stood outside West’s office, praying Neil was ensconced in the empty one down the hall. Sure, she was nervous about confronting West. But she couldn’t forget the feel of Neil’s fingers on her skin as he’d arranged the wire and then taped it. She’d tried to pretend he was a stranger, just doing his job, but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t. The look in his eyes said that he had regrets, too.

  Attempting to shake off her feelings about Neil, she focused on what she had to do. West’s door was partially open. She poked her head inside. “Can I talk to you?”

  The accountant looked surprised to see her but then he pasted on a genial smile. “Isobel. Did you have another meeting with Margaret?”

  Why else would she be here? After all, she was suspended. And that was his fault. “No. I came to see you.” Inside his office now, she closed the door. “You’ve been outed, West.”

  Was that fear she saw in his hazel eyes? “I don’t know what you mean. Explain yourself, Isobel.” Her colleague wasn’t smiling now.

  “I told you about overcharges in drugs to Mrs. Johnson and Mr. Talbot.”

  West was wary. “So you did.”

  “That information was called into the State Attorney General’s office. Neil Kane knows about it.”

  West tried to play the conversation with nonchalance. “Are you and Mr. Kane speaking again? Rumor has it there was a rift between you two.”

  “It’s over, West. I told Neil there were no charges. I just gave you that information to see if you were the mole. And you are.” She wanted to make this sound as if it were her idea…that she intended to trap him to save herself.

  Shaking his head in denial, anxiously ball
ing one hand into a fist, he said, “They can’t prove anything, Isobel. It’s my word against yours. I can claim you called in the information. After all, with a device to disguise your voice—”

  Isobel cut in. “How do you know the mole disguised his voice? There’s only one way. You made those calls, West.”

  Sweat broke out on his brow and he appeared almost desperate. Then he sat up straighter. “As I said, you can’t prove it. No one can. It’s not as if I even did anything illegal. I called in rumors—rumors that deserved to be investigated. They were based on facts.”

  “Why? Why did you do this? You put the reputation of the doctors here in jeopardy, the reputation of the hospital itself.”

  Now some of the panic left his face and he appeared almost defiant. “Why? Oh, Isobel, grow up. There’s only one why. NHC is paying me. I need the money for Mom’s care. She deserves the best and I’m going to give it to her. She’s not going to end up a ward of the state. I know what those nursing facilities are like. No one cares there. I need to have her someplace where I don’t have to worry about her twenty-four hours a day. You know what that’s like. We’ve talked about it. What would you have done if this was your father?”

  What would she have done? Sold his house and everything he owned so she could pay a year or two of good care?

  “I don’t know what I would have done, West. But not this. I wouldn’t have affected other lives.”

  “Don’t be so righteous. You’re on the outside looking in. When you’re on the inside, you get a different picture. Black doesn’t stay black and white doesn’t stay white. They merge into gray.”

  She could see how that had happened for West.

  He was frowning now. “I never intended things to go this far. NHC approached me. They knew I had taken Mom to Boston for an evaluation. They knew her prognosis wasn’t good. They said if I helped them with the takeover they would make sure she had a place at Fair Meadows, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her care.”

  “That’s what you’re getting out of this?” Isobel asked, feeling sorry for him in spite of herself.

  “They gave me money to cover her needs for home care until I’m ready to put her in Fair Meadows. How could I refuse that, Isobel? How?”