“Elias, can you hear me?”
Elias groaned again. Tom picked him up and carried him out of the house. As they walked down the front steps, Elias opened his eyes.
“Where?” he muttered.
“To the hospital.”
Elias nodded slightly and closed his eyes. Tom put him in the passenger seat, then raced around to the driver’s side. The sports car left a boiling cloud of dust as it sped down the driveway and onto the highway. Less than ten minutes later Tom squealed into the hospital parking lot. He stopped in front of the doors where the ambulances brought patients and ran inside. A pair of orderlies scrambled out, put Elias on a gurney, and rolled him inside. Tom moved his car to a regular parking spot and went inside where an intake nurse asked him a series of preliminary questions. After writing down Elias’s name, she asked Tom his relationship to the old man.
“Great-nephew.”
“And your name.”
“Tom Crane.”
The nurse’s eyes narrowed, and Tom saw her glance toward the security guard on duty in the ER.
“You can wait in there,” the nurse said curtly and pointed to the general waiting area.
Tom sat down. No one else seemed to be paying any attention to him. He flipped the pages of a magazine, but the words and pictures were a blur. He was worried about Elias. The old man had been under so much stress, all of it Tom’s fault. He closed his eyes. A moment later he felt a tap on the shoulder.
“Mr. Crane?”
“Yes.” Tom opened his eyes.
It was the same doctor who’d stitched up Tom’s chin.
“We’re admitting your uncle to the hospital and sending him upstairs for additional testing. He appears to have suffered a heart attack, and I want the cardiologist on call to assess the damage.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s stable now, and we’re going to watch him closely while continuing our evaluation.” The doctor cleared his throat. “How is your chin doing?”
Tom touched the slightly raised line of skin. If he’d pulled the trigger on the rifle, it would have obliterated the doctor’s careful work.
“Better every day.”
The doctor looked around the waiting area. Everyone in the room was staring at them. Several members of the hospital staff were eyeing Tom from across the room.
“Would you consider going someplace else to wait for news?” the doctor asked in a low voice. “Your presence is a distraction, and there’s nothing you can do for your uncle. If you give me your phone number, I promise to notify you as soon as we receive the results of any tests. Once your uncle is in a room, you can stay with him.”
“Nobody was paying attention to me a few minutes ago.”
“Word gets out fast, and I don’t want you to be bothered.”
Tom gave the doctor his cell phone number. As he left the ER, he felt multiple sets of eyes boring holes in his back. He got in his car and started the motor but didn’t have any place to go. He drove slowly down several residential streets, then past the courthouse, the Chickamauga Diner, and his father’s office. It was starting to get dark, and the broken shards of glass on the sidewalk glittered when the headlights of his car hit them. He drove out of town, past Rocky River Church and the country club. Turning back he passed the corporate headquarters of Pelham Financial. The brick building was beautifully lit up. Inside the city limits, he passed a row of older homes. At a stop sign, he looked to the left and saw the Parker-Baldwin house. Rick Pelham’s truck was parked out front.
At the sight of Arthur Pelham’s residence, anger boiled up inside Tom. He drove slowly past the historic home and glared. When he passed Rick’s truck, he had a view of the sunroom on the east side of the house. Through the windows he could see Arthur and Rick sitting in chairs and talking. Tom pulled his car to the curb and turned off the headlights. He wanted to confront Arthur but knew he’d never get inside the front door if he knocked or make it past the guards lurking unseen outside the house.
Getting out of the car, he walked quietly through the yard of the adjacent lot until he was even with the Parker-Baldwin house. A hedgerow separated the two homes. He continued down the hedge, which abruptly ended and a wooden privacy fence began. There was a gate in the fence. Tom pressed the latch. The gate clicked open, and he slipped through.
He was now behind the Parker-Baldwin house. There was no sign of Arthur’s security men. He could see the back of Arthur’s head above a chair in the sunroom. Rick was to his father’s right and had a serious expression on his face as he was gesturing with his hands. There was an exterior door to the sunroom on the back of the house. Tom crept up to the door and turned the knob. When the door clicked, he threw it open and stepped inside.
“What?” Arthur blurted out as he turned around in his chair.
“Tom,” Rick said.
Arthur jumped up from his seat. “Scarboro!” he called out as he took a step toward the door for the main part of the house.
Before Arthur could take another step, Rick was on his feet blocking his father’s way.
“Sit down,” Rick said. “I’m glad Tom is here.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur answered, trying to push Rick out of the way.
“Yes, I do,” Rick replied.
Rick’s strong arm continued to block his father’s way. Tom stepped forward into the room.
“Move!” Arthur shouted. “This is dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Tom asked in as calm a voice as he could muster. “As dangerous as the lies you told to the grand jury about Rose Addington and me?”
“You’re the one who’s going to prison for embezzlement! And it was your lies that will send you there.”
“As dangerous as what you did to my father and Harold Addington at Austin’s Pond?” Tom continued.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Addington was a thief who dragged your father into his scheme.”
“So you had both of them killed?”
“That’s ridiculous. The truth will come out in court.”
Arthur tried again to push past Rick, who grabbed his father with both hands and shoved him down into his chair.
“No,” Rick replied. “This is what’s going to come out in court.”
He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and dropped it into Arthur’s lap. The older man opened it. His eyes widened.
“Who gave you this?” he asked.
Rick, a sad expression on his face, turned to Tom. “My father and several executives at the company have been inflating the value of assets on the company’s books, siphoning off money in loans they never intended to repay, and paying interest on CDs in the Barbados bank with money from new investors.”
“A Ponzi scheme?” Tom asked.
“Nonsense,” Arthur cut in. “Our books are audited every year.”
“Did you tell the auditors the history of Biscayne Key in Saint Croix?” Rick asked.
“An island property?” Tom asked.
“And a legitimate resort development,” Arthur said.
“No,” Rick replied grimly. “Biscayne Key is valued on the books at $550 million, but that’s because it’s been sold five times in the past ten years with each sale to a Pelham-controlled shell company that inflated the purchase price. That property isn’t worth more than the $50 million originally paid for it. But based on the inflated value, you’ve borrowed $350 million against it. Of course, the loan isn’t in your name. What company is it? Global Resources?”
Arthur’s face went pale.
“And that’s not all.” Rick jerked the sheet from Arthur’s fingers and handed it to Tom. “It’s only one of dozens of similar deals.”
Tom glanced down at the paper that was a blur of names, dates, and numbers with a lot of zeros.
“You would destroy your own family?” Arthur asked numbly.
“No.” Rick shook his head. “You’re the one who’s destroyed this family.”
Arthur suddenly jumped out of the chair and bolted for the exit. Rick stuck out his arm, but the older man got past him and banged into the door leading from the sunroom to the main part of the house. He jerked open the door.
“Scarboro!” Arthur called out.
Rick grabbed Arthur and pulled him back into the room. “We’re not finished yet.”
Seconds later a large man in dark pants and a white golf shirt burst into the room.
“It’s Crane,” Arthur said, pointing at Tom.
Scarboro stepped toward Tom. When he did, Rick hit him in the side of the head with his fist. The blow knocked the security guard off balance. Scarboro turned toward Rick, who punched him directly in the nose. Blood spurted out as the guard stumbled backward.
“Stop it!” Arthur yelled, stepping between Rick and Scarboro.
Scarboro reached behind his back, and Tom saw he had a gun tucked in his pants. Tom launched himself across the room and tackled the security guard from behind. The gun hit the floor and slid toward Arthur. Rick grabbed a metal lamp and hit Scarboro in the back of the head. The man went limp. Arthur picked up the gun and pointed it at Tom. Rick took a step toward his father, who then aimed the gun at him.
“Sit down,” Arthur said to Rick. “We can straighten out our misunderstanding later.”
Rick didn’t answer but stepped sideways so he was standing between Arthur and Tom.
“Move!” Arthur commanded.
Rick took a step closer to his father. “Are you going to shoot me?”
“Out of the way!”
Rick took another step. Tom could see Arthur’s hand was shaking slightly. The old man put both hands on the pistol and raised it so it was chest high. Tom watched Arthur’s hand tense as he squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Tom cried out.
Rick calmly stepped forward and snatched the pistol from Arthur’s hand. He held the gun up in Arthur’s face. “You would have shot me?”
Arthur, his shoulders slumped, didn’t respond.
“But you couldn’t, because the safety was on.” Rick fingered a small lever on the side of the pistol. “I guess what I’ve learned about guns turned out to be important.”
He turned to Tom. “I think we should call the police. And first thing in the morning I’ll be talking to an investigator who works for the Securities and Exchange Commission. I’ve been cooperating with a government investigation of the company for over a year. My father and the other members of the board of directors of Pelham Financial ignored me, but I don’t want to be held responsible for something I didn’t do. You know what that feels like.”
“No one will believe you,” Arthur spit out.
“You’re wrong,” Rick replied.
He pointed at Scarboro’s body on the floor. The security guard moved slightly and groaned.
“The other night Tiffany heard you in the barn talking with Scarboro and Crusan about killing Tom’s father and Harold Addington.”
Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Rick took out his cell phone and dialed 911.
chapter
THIRY-FOUR
Noah Keller spent over three hours at the Parker-Baldwin house. At first it looked like Tom was going directly back to jail, but after separately interviewing the four men who’d been in the sunroom, Keller announced the investigation would continue the following day when Charlie Williams returned from an out-of-town trip.
“I want something done about this tonight,” Arthur demanded. “Crane broke in here and—”
“That’s in my notes, Mr. Pelham,” Keller responded. “In the meantime, I’m telling all of you to stay in the Bethel area until after DA Williams contacts you tomorrow.”
“I have an important meeting in New York at 10:00 a.m.,” Arthur replied. “There’s no reason for me to stay.”
“Sir, your meeting will have to be rescheduled. I’m going to call the airport and tell them not to allow your plane to take off, and order a couple of deputies to remain on duty outside the house for the rest of the night. They will also make sure your son and Mr. Crane don’t come back. I don’t know who acted in self-defense here, but I’m not going to let anything else happen tonight.”
“Detective, I hope you realize the gravity of your actions,” Arthur sputtered.
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Otherwise, I’d take all of you to the jail for the night.”
Arthur’s face flushed again. Tom thought about the isolation cell.
“May I leave now?” Tom asked the detective.
“Only if you agree not to leave Etowah County.”
“Yes.”
Tom and Rick walked out of the house together. It was much colder. Tom rubbed his hands together. “Did Tiffany know you were coming here tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, there are no secrets between us.”
Tom glanced sideways, but Rick was facing forward. They reached Rick’s truck. A sheriff’s department’s car was parked behind it.
“I’m sorry about all this,” Rick said, shaking his head. “That’s a weak thing to say, but it’s all I’ve got.”
“You did more than apologize.” Tom tilted his head toward the house. “You saved my life as much as I did Hal Millsap’s when I broke off the limb that was holding him underwater.”
“We’ll see about that.” Rick got in his truck, started the engine, and lowered the window. “I hope Elias gets better. Let me know.”
Rick pulled forward and drove slowly down the street. Tom watched the taillights of the truck until he turned a corner. The pool of sorrow caused by Arthur Pelham’s sin would continue to grow. Tom and the Addington family had suffered the ultimate loss. Rick, even though he was cooperating with the government, would receive scars of shame and disgrace that would never go away. And if Pelham Financial failed, the impact would be felt by virtually every family in Bethel. Life was complicated.
Tom returned to the hospital. It seemed like he’d been gone for days, not hours. At the front desk, he learned that Elias was in an ICU room on the second floor. Tom went upstairs to the waiting area and asked about Elias’s condition. The face of the woman on duty hardened when Tom identified himself.
“Just a minute,” she said curtly.
Tom lingered by the desk, but the woman motioned for him to sit down. He watched as she made a couple of phone calls, all the time keeping a close eye on him. She put down the phone and called him forward.
“Dr. Thomas, the cardiologist, is at the nurse’s station. He’ll see you now.”
The ICU at Pelham General Hospital was laid out like a donut with the nurse’s station in the middle. Dr. Ken Thomas, a middle-aged physician with salt-and-pepper hair, was flipping through a medical chart.
Tom introduced himself. “We met a few years ago at a benefit golf tournament at the country club.”
“Right,” the doctor replied without emotion. “Your uncle has been asking for you.”
“How is he?”
“He’s suffered a mild heart attack that doesn’t appear to have caused serious damage. Of course, at his age, something like this can become critical very quickly.”
“May I see him?”
“Yes,” the doctor said and pointed to a room behind him. “He’s in there. Don’t stay more than five minutes.”
Tom went into the room. Elias was lying on the bed with an IV in his arm and several wires that snaked their way to monitoring devices. His eyes were closed. Tom approached the bed. The old man looked frail and weak. If he was asleep it would be better to let him rest. As he watched Elias breathe slowly but regularly, Tom had a sense the old man’s work behind the scenes in his study played a key part in Tom’s vindication. Gratitude welled up in his heart.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“You’re welcome,” Elias replied, his eyes still closed.
Startled, Tom waited for the old man to continue, but Elias didn’t stir. Tom slipped from the room.
“Any
idea how long he’ll be here?” he asked the doctor.
“Several days at least.”
Tom left the hospital. Now that he knew Elias was stable, all he could think about was getting to Rose. Returning to the jail was out of the question. It was too late, and Rose had made it clear to the jail personnel that Tom wasn’t her “barrister.” There was nothing to do but wait.
As he turned into the driveway leading to Elias’s house, Tom felt a sense of foreboding. The old house was dark. He parked beneath the large oak tree and turned off the lights of the car so his eyes could adjust to the shadows.
As long as Arthur Pelham was free, Tom felt vulnerable. He got out and slowly walked around the outside of the house. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he climbed the steps. He hadn’t locked the door behind him when he carried Elias to the car. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The house was quiet as only an isolated rural home can be. He squinted slightly as he stepped into the front room.
Suddenly, something crashed to the floor. Tom jumped back and threw up his hands to fend off an attacker. Hearing a moan, he turned on the overhead light and saw Rover lying on the floor with an electric cord wrapped around his right-rear leg and a shattered ceramic lamp behind him. The dog gave Tom his most forlorn look. Tom knelt down and unwrapped the cord.
“How did you get tangled up in that?” he asked.
Rover’s tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth as he panted. Once free, he got up and shook himself.
“Is anybody here that shouldn’t be?” Tom asked.
Rover trotted into the kitchen. Tom followed and found the dog pawing his empty water dish. Tom filled the dish with fresh water from the sink and set it on the floor. Rover buried his nose in the water and lapped noisily. Tom went through the rest of the house, making sure it really was deserted, then locked and bolted the front door. Taking off his shoes but not getting undressed, he propped up in bed and stared into the darkness. Every sense was on high alert.
______
The next thing he knew, Tom opened his eyes as the sun peeked through a gap in the window curtain. The previous night’s fears had fled. Tom swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Rover was lying on his side in his customary spot. Tom stretched his arms over his head and checked the clock. It was thirty minutes later than he usually got up. Physical and emotional exhaustion had taken their toll.
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