Deep Harbor

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Deep Harbor Page 10

by Fern Michaels


  “Yeah, but Snapper is from a different brand of politics. He actually cared about his constituents. I doubt many of them do. They just want to keep their untouchable jobs, their benefits, and their perks. It’s a career, for sure. The day of the citizen legislator, who takes time out from his or her real life to serve the country, then returns to private life, is over. And the country is a lot worse off for that.”

  CJ was trying not to slip into a dark mood. “Snapper was a special man indeed. He was almost a father figure to me, you know.”

  “Yes, sweetie, I do know. And that’s why I’m on this cockamamie journey with you. I want to get to the bottom of whatever it is because I know you’ll never rest until you get some resolution.” Colin was thinking back to Kick’s dying breath, when he said, “Keep an eye on CJ for me.” Neither of them had had any idea they would be involved in political and financial espionage. Colin thought it would be limited to her love life, her health, and her job. But this? This was way more than he had bargained for, but he loved Kick. And he truly loved CJ. He wasn’t going to let her travel down this rabbit hole alone.

  “Almost there.” Colin saw the final turn according to the GPS coming up on the right. As they made the turn, they were surprised to find a very small, modest building with a simple sign: SUN VALLEY INSTITUTE. It was a beautifully landscaped property, and the building had only two stories.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting.” CJ turned to Colin. “I guess it’s not the Betty Ford, eh?”

  “Maybe they don’t get a lot of long-term residents here. And it is pretty pricey.” Colin pulled into a spot that said VISITOR PARKING.

  “I’m a little nervous. You?” CJ mouthed in Colin’s direction.

  “Yeah. Kinda. This isn’t exactly what we normally do on a Friday afternoon. C’mon. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  CJ slowly unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, but then hesitated. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”

  “We just flew three thousand miles to notify what we think is Snapper’s next of kin. We are here with good intentions. Remember that.” Colin was trying to be reassuring.

  “Yeah. Good intentions with a hidden agenda.”

  “All right. Pull up your big-girl pants, and let’s do this. Now!”

  As they walked slowly toward the entrance, CJ’s hands started to shake.

  Colin took her by the elbow and led her into the small lobby.

  “Hello,” Colin said to the blue-eyed blonde sitting behind a desk with a sign on it that said RECEPTION AREA. PLEASE SIGN IN. “My name is Colin Kelly. This is Carol Anne Jansen. Carol worked for Congressman Otto Lewis. I believe that his brother George is a resident here.”

  CJ squeezed Colin’s hand so tight, he thought she might break it off.

  The receptionist gave them a suspicious once-over. “How do you do. May I ask what this is about?”

  “We have some very unfortunate news about Congressman Lewis, and we wanted to deliver it to his brother, George, in person. George Lewis? He is a resident here, is he not?”

  “Just a moment.” The receptionist stood in her highly starched uniform and disappeared into a back room. Colin and CJ looked at each other and shrugged.

  A few minutes later, a short, fairly portly, gray-haired man about the same age as Colin came out. “Good afternoon. I’m Stephen Monahan. I am the day manager at the institute. What can I do for you?”

  After Colin repeated what he had just told the receptionist, Monahan inquired, “What kind of unfortunate news?”

  Colin was losing his patience. “Is George Lewis a resident here or not? And if he is not, can someone tell me why Congressman Lewis has been paying this facility twenty-five thousand dollars a month for the past thirteen years?”

  “My apologies. We try to exercise discretion to protect the privacy of our residents as best we can. Please follow me.”

  Monahan led them to a small, austere office, with a desk, filing cabinet, and two chairs for visitors. There was a computer sitting on the desk. “Please. Sit. How can I be of assistance?”

  CJ was about to lose her cool when Colin spoke a few decibels louder than before. “Look. We’re here to speak to George. We have news about his brother.”

  “What kind of news?”

  “Do you not watch television?” CJ could no longer control her angst and anger. “Congressman Lewis was found dead in his car earlier this week. They said it was a suicide, but—” Colin cut her off before she could continue further.

  “But, we were not certain who his next of kin was until we came across George Lewis’s name and the name of your facility. So is he here or not?” Now Colin’s face was turning red.

  “Well, yes. George is a resident here. But he is not in any condition to have visitors,” Monahan answered in a monotone.

  “So what do you suggest?” Colin regained his composure.

  “He’s paralyzed. In a comatose state. I am not able to share any information with you as it is covered by patient-doctor privilege.”

  CJ’s hands flew to her face to hide her shock. Colin steadied himself and repeated his last sentence again. “What do you suggest?”

  “Perhaps if you come back tomorrow?” The way Monahan made the suggestion, it seemed as if he were reading from a script.

  “Do you mean in case he comes out of his coma overnight?” CJ made no attempt to hide the sarcasm inherent in her question. “No. We have flown across the country to inform Congressman Lewis’s next of kin of his brother’s death. And we intend to tell him now. Today. So, we’ll just wait.” CJ slammed her body into the chair and folded her arms over her chest as if daring Monahan and anyone else he might choose to involve to remove her forcibly from the premises.

  Monahan gave the ceiling a “why does this have to happen when I’m on duty?” look.

  “Ms. Jansen is the executor of Congressman Lewis’s estate. Therefore, if you choose to have the institute continue to provide George with the care he has been receiving, whatever that amounts to, you will presumably want the institute to continue to receive payment for its services. I suggest you figure it out, as in now, not tomorrow or the next day or the next week. So, as Ms. Jansen, indicated, we’ll wait.”

  “This is highly irregular. I need to consult my superiors. It may be a while.” Monahan shoved his chair back, stood, and, muttering something under his breath, marched out of the room as if the Furies were chasing him.

  “What the—?” CJ looked at Colin. “Seriously? What kind of place is this? A prison?”

  “Well, if he’s paralyzed and on life support, there could be a problem.”

  “What if he’s not here? What if he’s also dead, and this place has been taking Snapper’s money all this time? I don’t remember Snapper’s ever making a trip out here. And I think I would know if he had.”

  Colin cringed. Another theory about evil people doing bad things.

  “Oh jeez, CJ. How many conspiracies do you think were swirling around Snapper?”

  “Occam’s razor, the simplest explanation. Corruption. All over the place.”

  “Okay, girl, now you’re being paranoid. And we just might want to curb our conversation.” Colin made a gesture, pointing to his ear as if someone might be listening.

  “Yeah. Whatever.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Monahan returned, and said to CJ, “George has been on life support for years. He would not know if anyone was in the room. If you can show me documentation that you are, in fact, the executor of the estate, we can bring you up to his room, but I feel obliged to warn you, you will find being there very disturbing.”

  CJ jumped out of the chair and slammed her hands on his desk. “We are going to see George today! Unless he’s not here, and you’ve been taking Congressman Lewis’s money all this time for nothing!”

  Colin stood, put his hand on her shoulder, and gave Monahan a stern look. “This situation is becoming rather suspicious. I can understand wanting to preserve the privac
y of your residents, but this is a serious situation. George’s brother is dead, which means there is no one who can fund his care.”

  Monahan’s swarthy face turned pale. “Mr. Kelly, Ms. Jansen, please try to understand my position. Do you have any documentation?”

  CJ was fuming.

  Colin jumped in before CJ could put her hands around Monahan’s throat.

  “We need to verify George’s condition so we can assess how to move forward.” Colin was keeping his wits about him because he knew CJ was about to explode. Understanding the roadblocks of the HIPAA law—the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, which was passed to protect patient privacy—Colin had had the presence of mind to make a copy of the document, which was not Snapper’s will, interestingly enough, naming CJ executor. Colin had deliberately looked for it when he was perusing the files on the thumb drive. He knew that it would become necessary to have it for a multitude of reasons. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Monahan. “This should suffice.”

  Monahan took the envelope gingerly as CJ looked on with ill-concealed amazement, having assumed that Colin was bluffing to get access to George.

  Monahan shuffled through the papers. “I see. Please give me a few minutes.”

  Colin was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to choke the crap out of this weasel. Monahan walked out of the office once again, returning a few minutes later.

  Sighing deeply, Monahan said, “Okay. Follow me then. But I warn you. It’s not a pretty sight, and George won’t understand anything you try to tell him.”

  “Yeah, we get it.” By this time, CJ was thoroughly exasperated and did not care who knew it.

  Both of them stood and began to follow the pudgy little manager down the hall to an elevator. He pushed the button and the extra wide doors opened. He held the door as Colin and CJ entered the cavernous, hospital-style elevator.

  CJ was squeezing Colin’s arm and trying to stay calm. Colin himself was more agitated than CJ could remember.

  Monahan stepped out first and led the way down the hall. The institute was basically a nursing home with hospice care. There were about ten units on the floor—each door open to reveal very sick and disabled people. Some were on life support. Some looked as if they were already dead. Being there was totally creepy, and CJ thought she might pass out.

  As they approached the last door on the right, Monahan repeated his words from before but this time with a little more annoyance. “Be prepared. I told you that it’s not pretty.”

  Colin and CJ quietly peered around the doorjamb and slowly approached the bed. Monahan was right. George was not a pretty sight. One side of his body was flaccid, and the side of his face drooped like it was made out of Jell-O. As if he sensed that someone had entered the room, he let out an eerie groan. “Yes, George, you have company.” Monahan was matter-of-fact, as if he and George carried on perfectly normal conversations. “These people are friends of your brother Otto.”

  “Does he understand what you’re saying?” CJ whispered.

  “The brain scans don’t show much electrical activity. We do our best.” Despite his bureaucratic manner, it was obvious that Monahan was proud of the care provided by the institute.

  “Yeah. I’m sure you do. You certainly get paid enough.” CJ was still on edge.

  Monahan gave her a dirty look. “Please, Ms. Jansen, let’s not have this discussion in front of the patient.”

  “Oh. Right,” CJ replied with some sarcasm. “Let’s not disturb George and have this conversation elsewhere.”

  Colin took the reins from CJ, trying to keep confrontation to a minimum. “George? Can you hear me?”

  Monahan, seeming not to care about avoiding a confrontation, rolled his eyes.

  A thud-like grunt emanated from George, causing everyone to take a step back.

  Colin repeated the question, “George? Can you hear me?” But this time, there was no response.

  “See. I told you.” Monahan was beginning to sound like a five-year-old telling his parents something they had not wanted to believe.

  CJ took in a big breath to steady herself and put her hand on his right arm. “George? My name is CJ. I worked for your brother in Washington.”

  “What is she doing?” Monahan said, almost as if whispering.

  “She’s trying to communicate, you idiot.” At this point, Colin had given up on avoiding a confrontation and no longer cared if he insulted the smarmy manager.

  CJ continued, “I know your brother has been helping these people to take care of you.”

  No response. She continued, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but something happened to Otto. He passed away a few days ago.” An almost inaudible sound came from George.

  CJ’s head snapped around and looked sternly into Monahan’s face.

  “It seems as if George understood exactly what I said.”

  “Uh. Well, that could just be a reflex response to audible stimuli.” Monahan’s palms were beginning to sweat. He had never seen this before with George. Never.

  “Is there a doctor on duty we can speak with?” Colin, who was stunned but composed, asked.

  “She makes her rounds in about an hour.” Monahan was turning pale. “I can assure you this has never happened before.”

  “Yeah. I bet.” CJ looked back at George and continued, “Don’t worry. Someone will still take care of you. Try to rest now.” She grabbed Colin’s sleeve to steady herself and pulled him toward the door. At the same time, she gave Monahan a strong head gesture to follow her.

  Once they were in the hallway, she hissed at Monahan, “George is not the vegetable you implied he was!”

  Monahan put up his hands as if to fend off any blows that CJ might land on his puffy face. “Okay. Okay. Let me page the doctor, and we can discuss this.” He was really sweating now, and he wiped his brow with one hand.

  CJ’s head was reeling. Clearly, George needed the kind of care the institute provided, but it was still shocking to see him and to think he had been this way for over a decade. Snapper had carried this burden so secretively all these years. It was mind-boggling. But it also helped to explain why Snapper was the advocate of affordable health care that he was. He had a personal interest in the matter based on personal experience. He and all his colleagues had their insured rear ends covered by the loyal taxpayers of the country. Now CJ could understand his passionate concern about the financial crisis families with very sick members were dealing with. She shook her head as if she were shaking out a hill of ants.

  She pulled Colin aside. “We need to figure out a lot of stuff here. But where do we begin?”

  “Let’s see what the doctor has to say. But I don’t think there’s any option but to keep him here. At least for now. We can’t disrupt his life.”

  “Yeah. Some life,” CJ interrupted. “And we’ll also want to see the books. Or at least what other money they may be receiving. I don’t suppose there is another income stream, but I want to be sure Snapper wasn’t getting ripped off.”

  “You have a lot of mysteries to solve, Nancy Drew. Let’s start with gathering the facts.” Colin took her by the elbow and led her back to the elevator, where Monahan was leaning up against the wall. He looked like he was about to need nursing care himself.

  The ride to the main floor was quick, and Monahan was squirming. “We have a lounge area down the hall from my office. There is coffee, tea, and some vending machines.” He was hoping he could dump them. At least until the doctor arrived. He needed reinforcement. Who knew what these people were up to?

  Sure, Sun Valley Institute was making money off George, but they were also taking care of him. Better than most would or could. Monahan was trying to calm down. His job was easy. He sat in an office all day reviewing intake reports, sending letters, and, too frequently, death certificates to families. But he rarely had to deal with family members face-to-face. This was a very odd situation. No one from George’s family had ever visited. And Monahan had had n
o idea that George was related to the congressman who had committed suicide. The money for George’s care came from a trust. I’m just the day manager, he thought to himself. Someone at the top will have to deal with this. It’s way above my pay grade. A congressman, for heaven’s sake!

  Colin and CJ took Monahan up on his suggestion and headed toward the room from which the aroma of coffee being brewed issued. The room was decorated in cheerful colors, orange and yellow, and had a sunset mural on one wall. A small sofa sat under the mural, flanked by two side tables and club chairs. On one wall were four vending machines offering the usual packaged sugar, salt, and fat-making items, while another had natural protein drinks. On the adjoining wall was a countertop that held a large Keurig machine and a basket filled with a variety of coffees, teas, and other hot beverages.

  CJ headed straight toward the sofa and practically threw herself down on it.

  “Colin? What the hell is going on? This has been one insane week!” She thought she might cry if she had the energy.

  “One thing at a time. We need to sort this out. As I said, George seems to be well taken care of. We just need to sort out the money situation. I think there was at least another three hundred fifty thousand left in the trust. That will buy us another year.” Then he lowered his voice. “If he makes it for another year. Wow. He looks like he is on the edge.”

  “I know. This is all too much. I wonder if Snapper had any idea how bad off he was. He must have, no?” CJ was ruminating out loud.

  “You’d know better than I. You kept track of every move the congressman made.”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. The only time he ever traveled was for official business or to go on those photo retreats in the Everglades that I mentioned. I don’t remember his ever going anywhere else other than on congressional business.” CJ was wracking her brain to remember any odd trips to California.

  “They probably have a visitor’s log we can check.” Colin was as curious as CJ.

  “They may say it’s an invasion of the privacy of the other residents,” CJ replied, putting on her constitutional hat.

 

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