"Convenient if you ask me." Deg tapped the table. "Contract for the work, then leave town for the action."
"What's next?" Garcia said.
Ray leaned back in his chair. "First, we keep Dyer and Silebi in the dark about our financial discoveries. We lead them to believe we've bought the illusion. This will also give the financial guys at the state time to start their investigation. If we find debt, which I suspect we will, we'll get a warrant to cover the personal financial records for Dyer and Silebi. Meanwhile, we need to rework everything. The motive piece is missing. Lots of possibilities, but nothing solid."
CHAPTER 21
Sophia
"Hi, Sophia." Connie greeted her with a smile and a wave on Thursday morning in the hospital parking lot.
Sophia hurried to catch up, then they slowed to walk together. Connie preferred the side door, while Sophia usually went in through the ED. Today, after checking her watch to be sure she had time, she went her friend's way. "What's happening, girl?" Sophia said.
"Not a whole lot. Did you hear Ralph Hoffman is being transferred to the telemetry unit this morning?"
"I didn't know. That's good, though. At least he'll have more privacy and still have his cardiac monitor. I guess they'll be able to start therapy to get him up and walking."
"Physical therapy worked with him at his bedside in the unit and had him standing and sitting."
"You're well informed."
"I stopped by to see him late yesterday afternoon. Ran into Melinda. She told me he was moving around better."
"Guess it won't be long until he's discharged to rehab. I hope he decides to live somewhere else when he gets on his feet," Sophia said.
"How are you holding up?"
"The good thing is Ray is settled into the house with me. The bad thing is it's been eight days since Millie was killed, and he doesn't look any closer to solving her murder."
"I'm sure the police are doing their thing. Ray isn't telling you everything. Leaving you uninformed will help you mind your own business."
"Maybe that's it. It feels like every place I look, someone is being hurt, or beaten, or abused. Read the paper. It's horrible. I heard a report this morning about some old man shooting his wife and then himself. He left a note saying he couldn't look after her anymore. Poor lady."
"Poor man. Can you imagine the desperation that drove him to take that action?" Connie stepped into an alcove across from the elevator. "What about you here at the hospital? You okay?"
"Okay. Interesting word. I'm not fired and waiting tables at IHOP yet. Nancy is pissed I made the call. She's genuflecting to the hospital powers and Franco Silebi."
"You knew that would happen."
"I suppose," Sophia said. "But I feel I did the right thing. Why is it only a couple of docs and me who want to face reality? Ralph shows signs of abuse. He even made statements to the investigators suggesting rough treatment."
"My God. I didn't know."
"Please keep it to yourself. I shouldn't have said anything."
She nodded.
"At least I know there was a firm basis for my suspicions, and I did my job and tried to protect him." Sophia wiped a tear.
Connie patted Sophia's arm. "Ralph's statement is enough to negate any accusation the Silebis might make of malicious reporting."
"Another thing." Sophia frustration rose to the surface. "Why would I want to make a malicious report? I don't have cause to dislike any of those people. I barely know Melinda, don't know her husband, and never met her son."
"Lower your voice." Connie held a finger in front of her mouth.
"I feel devalued. The ED manager and physician should have been with me on the complaint. They both admit the evidence exists, at least on the surface. They just don't want to take the blame. Dr. Nathan and Dr. Bhaduri say they're standing behind me, but it remains to be seen how far behind me they are and if I will be able to find them if I need to." Sophia looked at her watch. "Oh shit, I'm late. Gotta go. Now, to top it all off, I'll get the worst damn assignment on the unit." She offered a limp wave and headed down the corridor toward the ED, then turned back and stopped. "Call me for lunch."
"Not today. We're doing the mandatory classes. The manager ordered lunch to the unit to make the switch-offs easier."
"Okay. Talk to you later." Sophia hurried to the ED and clocked in a few minutes late. Not late enough to have her pay docked, but enough to earn a dirty look from Nancy, who assigned Sophia the rooms at the far end of the department, the furthest distance from the nursing station and supply areas.
She ran her legs off for the next twelve hours, but took it in stride. She knew the risks of tardiness. Patients admitted on the night shift occupied her assigned beds. The hospital was full, so ED patients waited for doctors to make rounds, staff to process discharges, and the assorted necessities leading to clean, empty rooms upstairs.
Sophia helped with morning hygiene, served breakfast trays, noted orders, and buzzed around providing routine care in a less than ideal environment. Around eleven, several rooms upstairs opened, so she commandeered an ED tech and dispatched the patients. After lunch a whole new cadre of the sick and wounded would await her.
***
At one o'clock, the charge nurse told Sophia to go to lunch. Her right leg ached, and she struggled not to limp, so she took her time getting to the cafeteria. She grabbed a salad and a piece of grilled chicken and climbed on a stool at a high-top table near the window. She cut up the meat, put it on the salad, then dug in the leg pocket of her cargo scrubs for her iPhone. Tapping the screen, she noticed a missed call from an unknown number. Odd. She shrugged and opened the novel she'd been reading. Her plan was to eat, read, and ignore the world, thinking that minding her own business would change her outlook and become a habit.
Sophia heard something scrape against the tile floor and looked up. Melinda Silebi put her tray on the table, then climbed onto the stool. "Do you mind?"
"No, but I don't get you wanting to have lunch with me."
"We've always gotten along. Don't you think?"
"Well enough, I suppose."
"I thought you'd like to know that my dad is in a room on the fourth floor. He's on telemetry. They'll do his therapy right on the unit so he's monitored at all times."
"That's good."
"Then I think he'll go to rehab for a while, maybe move to assisted living. He gets lonely stuck in the house with everyone working."
"Seems like he would, being blind and all."
"Sophia." Her voice softened. "Please understand, I didn't want to complain about you. Franco is offended because he thinks you reported us to the state. He doesn't understand that if you did report us, you saw it as your professional responsibility."
I nodded, at a loss for something to say.
"I reported a family once," Melinda said.
"Oh?"
"I counseled a woman about her eating. She was a tiny lady, and her weight loss was dramatic. It wasn't caused by physical disease. We thought she was anorexic. But her appetite here was hearty. In fact, she ordered double portions of many things. We, or rather I, decided her family was starving her at home. I reported her situation to the state and probably saved her life. I saw it as my professional responsibility."
"I understand." Sophia wasn't going to make a confession to Melinda, but thought she should sound supportive. "What did your husband think about your actions?"
"He agreed. I discussed it with him first. I mean, I thought I could get into trouble and get fired for making the report."
When Sophia didn't comment, Melinda continued. "We aren't abusing my father. Certainly, we didn't push him down the stairs, or my mother, either."
The reference to her mother was interesting. Denial without first hearing an accusation. "Given all that, why have you reported me on all levels and tried to get me fired?" Sophia gulped, trying to retract the question.
"I had to. Franco insists we can't take the insult without fighting back."
"Without any proof I insulted you?" Sophia shook her head. "Your reasoning stretches my limited imagination."
"I didn't mean to offend you. What can I do to make amends?"
"For starters, you can retract your complaints." Sophia slid off the stool and picked up her tray. "Have a wonderful day, Melinda."
"I'll rescind my complaints today."
Sophia nodded. "Thank you for that." She hurried back to the ED while wondering about their off-the-planet conversation.
Late in the afternoon, Nancy summoned Sophia to her office and didn't offer a chair. "I don't know what you said or did to Melinda Silebi, but she went to personnel and retracted her complaint. Then she went to administration, waited to speak with Ms. Nolan, and did the same. She just spoke to me, withdrew the complaint, and apologized for the trouble she caused. Then she picked up my phone, called her boss, and quit her job. No notice."
"Why now?" Sophia said, then took a minute to tell Nancy about the lunch conversation. "In all truth, I was amazed when she came over acting all friendly. I thought she'd come to harass me, but sending her away would have been very rude and very public, too. I didn't believe she'd follow through when she said she'd fix things."
Nancy said, "I don't think Franco knows about it yet. So life could still get interesting. Watch for flying accusations and rebuttals."
"Yes, ma'am." When in doubt, practice good Southern manners. She'd heard it said that yes, ma'am can mean almost anything from the obvious to up yours.
When Nancy smiled and nodded toward the office door, Sophia took the hint. As she hurried down the hall, she felt her phone vibrate against her left thigh. Remembering the earlier call, she ducked into the clean utility room and answered. The call connected, but no one spoke. The screen noted unknown caller. Sophia disconnected, feeling a wave of unease.
***
Sometime after eight that evening, Ray found Sophia curled up on the recliner sofa fast asleep with Roxy snuggled close. When he lifted Roxy and slid into the dog's spot, the jarring motion woke her. He looped an arm around her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck.
Ray smelled of bayberry-scented soap and felt warm and cozy as she returned his caress, adding a welcome kiss to the mix. "How long have you been home?"
"Long enough to stick the casserole you left on the top of the stove in the oven and take a shower."
"Perceptive of you. What temperature?"
"Three-seventy-five. Mom always said that was a good go-to number."
"Works."
He put a hand on her cheek and turned her face toward him. "You've been crying. Why?"
"It's all so messed up." She told him about the conversation with Melinda, then with Nancy. "Maybe she resigned because she humiliated herself. Why else would she retract her complaints, then quit the next minute?"
"Sounds about right to me. Shouldn't you be happy, not sad?"
"I suppose. The whole thing is a downer. Millie killed. Ralph abused. Melinda complaining, then leaving her job."
"Honey, Millie is not connected with the other two things. Don't connect them in your mind. It makes a bigger monster to battle."
Sophia took a deep breath and exhaled. "Yes, but I have the feeling the world isn't done messing with me yet."
"How so?"
"I got two—no three—hang up calls today from an unknown caller. The second one I answered. There was someone there, but they didn't speak. The last one I ignored." She sat up straight, sliding forward to put her feet on the floor. "Don't you think it's odd that the same day Melinda gets human, I get calls?"
"It makes me wonder. I think I'll drop you at work and pick you up for a few days to be on the safe side."
"Do you really think that's necessary?"
"No, but you'll feel more secure and so will I. And you need to practice safe behavior. Walk the dog in daylight or with me. Lock the house and set the alarm. You know the routine."
"Okay." She stood, turning to offer him a smile and encourage him to accompany her. "Let's eat, drink wine, and worry about the weather and the price of boiled owls in China."
"You're channeling your father again."
"Yup." He preceded her into the kitchen while she admired his broad shoulders and the cut of his ratty old jeans and how they hung on his hips. Ray maintained his well-muscled body, and, in spite of his forty-plus years, sported no middle-roll or paunch. She suspected he wouldn't fatten up. It was a nice view, and she made plans on ways to distract herself for the remainder of the evening.
After dinner and a half bottle of wine, it wasn't hard to convince Ray to play it her way.
CHAPTER 22
Ray
Ray slipped out of bed at three o'clock on Friday morning, leaving Sophia sound asleep. He dressed in jeans and a loose Marlins T-shirt that covered his holster. He double-checked the locks, activated the house alarm, and left. Sophia wasn't scheduled to work, and he'd asked her to stay close to home for the day.
He headed toward the seedier section of northern Broward County and a scheduled rendezvous with his least-favorite snitch, Arthur Centro.
Ray's first encounter with Centro occurred when Ray was new to his role of detective at CBPD and working robbery and vehicle theft. Centro heisted a customized Cadillac from a city council member who dabbled in gambling in his spare time. In exchange for anonymity, Centro supplied enough detail to arrest and convict the wayward public servant. The car was impounded as evidence. It contained a hidden compartment in the trunk housing illegal gambling records covered with the councilman's prints. Centro also agreed to provide other information about local gamblers as required from time to time.
Arriving at the all-night strip club a few minutes early, Ray pulled his ball cap down a bit to cover his eyes, slid into a booth close enough to the action to not attract undue attention, and ordered a Bud when the half-naked server stopped by. Ray glanced around the room to assure himself he looked like every other degenerate in the place. He'd initially resisted Centro's choice of meeting venue, but now thought it wasn't bad.
Centro arrived a few minutes later, stopping at the bar to grab a beer before taking a moment to scan the sparse crowd. When he saw Ray, he acted surprised, then took his time wandering across the room, stopping several times to watch the action on the stage.
"Hey, man," Centro said in a loud, slurred voice, "what brings you to town?"
"Join me, Arthur, I'll tell you all about it."
"You could have picked a table." Centro squeezed his soft, bulky body into the booth across from Ray. The man was around fifty, weighed almost three hundred pounds, and stood about five-seven.
"Thought this would be more private. What do you have for me?" Ray motioned at the room.
"No small talk with you, my friend?" Centro scowled.
"I'm not your friend. Just give me the information before someone recognizes this for what it is." Ray kept his voice at a whisper.
"Dyer is heavily in debt to the man, but he keeps his payments current."
"Interesting. Do you know how much?" Ray said.
"Couple hundred grand. Pays two grand a week, borrows at least that much most weeks. Can't stay away from the tables."
"How does he do?"
"Like most. Wins some, loses more. Thinks he's a player and believes he's better than he is."
"Does he go anywhere else but the casino on Sample?"
"Don't know, but if he does it's not too often. He's heavily into blackjack at the moment. Sits at the same table most nights. Likes the dealer."
"Who?"
"Girl named Cheryl."
Ray nodded.
"Another thing, he owes some dude in Vegas, too. Don't know the details. The rumor is his last trip there was by unfriendly invitation."
"Anything else?" Dyer was in deeper than Ray suspected.
"Nah."
"Does he bet on the horses, sports? Like that?"
"Don't think so. He brags that what he does is skill, and betting on games is pure chance." C
entro smirked and rolled his eyes up toward his well-padded forehead.
Ray wanted to get up and leave, but couldn't risk leaving too soon after Centro arrived. Ray stayed and watched the end of the set, shook Centro's hand while passing over the snitch fee, then got up and made his way out, along with a few other patrons.
He'd intended to stop at his condo and let Sophia sleep, but decided to go back to her place instead. He was concerned she'd picked up a stalker, and he wanted to stay as close as possible. As he drove, he thought about the merits of moving in with Sophia on a permanent basis. Branden, who would be moving on to college in the fall, seemed okay with the prospect, though he hadn't said so. Maybe it was time.
He coasted into the driveway, then slipped quietly into the house. After he showered in the guest bath, shaved, and dressed for the rest of the day, he made a pot of coffee, toasted a couple of bagels, then sent the dog into the bedroom to awaken Sophia. Two minutes later she appeared looking bed-haired and flushed from sleep.
"I'm off today. I could have slept in." She stuck out her bottom lip, then gave him a hug and kiss. "I'm glad you're here."
"I wanted to see you. We can walk the dog together."
"I heard you leave in the middle of the night. What's up with that?"
"Had an appointment with a snitch. I forgot to mention it last night, I guess."
"What case?"
"Millie's. We are following the money, and right now, that means looking into Rodney Dyer's gambling habits."
"Interesting. A financial advisor with a gambling problem. Lots of possibilities there."
"That's what we thought." He poured coffee into two cups while she served the bagels.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, then he covered her hand with his. "You know I love you."
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