The Deception

by Marina Martindale

  "You didn't fail me, Daddy, you really didn't. You just saved my life." She could hear the sound of the approaching sirens as she gave his hand another squeeze. "Just stay with me, okay. Now that I've found you I'm not going to lose you again."

  Forty-One

  Louise was certain she'd experienced worse days than the one she was having, but she couldn't remember when. She'd just lost her case. Then, to add insult to injury, she'd been ordered to pay all of their attorney fees and court costs. Karl was going to be furious with her. He, too, had been pressuring her for months to drop the case, but she'd steadfastly refused. She'd told Carrie on the phone that day she was going to teach her a lesson she'd never forget, and Louise was someone who never backed down. As soon as she stepped off the elevator she gave her attorney a piece of her mind. He, too, reminded her that he'd advised her, many times, to drop the case.

  "You're supposed to be on my side."

  "I am on your side, Louise. I've been telling you for months that your case was weak and you'd be better off waiting for the criminal investigation to wrap up. Now you finally know who really infringed on your work--Maggie Andrews. You're perfectly free to go after her. Hell, you may even win, but you'll have to find another attorney, because I'm done. My office will send you my final bill."

  "Yeah, well you're fired anyway," she yelled as Collins walked away.

  It took Louise a few moments to gather her wits. She let out a sigh as she headed toward the exit. As she stepped onto the plaza she heard a loud, popping sound, like the sound of a car backfiring. People starting screaming and running as another loud pop was heard. She looked in the direction it came from and saw a woman standing near the trees with a gun in her hand. She watched in horror as the woman turned and fired a shot at Scott Andrews, who immediately crumpled to the ground. People were running in panic, but Louise kept her eyes on the woman. After she fired at Scott, she carefully tucked the gun into her overcoat and began walking away.

  Louise began her career as a newspaper photographer and her instincts immediately kicked in. She reached into her purse and powered up her smart phone as she began following her from a safe distance. The woman calmly walked to the back of the plaza, turned and headed to the street corner. From there, she turned and began walking south. Louise kept her distance behind her, stopping to occasionally snap a photo. One block later the woman turned to her left, crossing the street and heading east. As she was walking, she reached up and pulled off her baseball cap. Louise noticed the red hair coming off with it, revealing short blonde hair underneath. She kept her stride as she casually dropped the wig and cap into a trashcan. Louise kept snapping photos. She could hear sirens in the distance and she knew she'd have to call the police. She stopped for a moment to place the call. By the time she looked back up, the blonde woman was out of sight. Louise headed in the direction she'd last seen her walking. Her call connected, but to her dismay, she got a busy signal. She stopped momentarily and tried again. This time the call went through.

  "Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?,"

  "There's been a shooting in front of the Sandra Day O'Conner building."

  "Yes ma'am, we're aware of it. The police have already been summoned."

  "Wait! Don't hang up," she shouted. "I saw the shooter. It's a woman. I've followed her down Fourth Avenue to Jackson Street. She was walking east on Jackson, when I lost sight of her. By the way, I saw her take off her baseball cap. She was wearing a red wig. Underneath she has short, blonde hair."

  "Okay, ma'am. Please, don't follow her anymore. I'll pass the information on to the dispatcher. Thank you."

  "Wait! Are you still there?"

  The operator had already disconnected the call. She heard the sound of sirens coming from all directions. Police cars were beginning to swarm. She thought about going to the parking garage to get her car before the police blocked off the area, then it occurred to her--she might be able to sell the photos for a tidy profit. She kept walking. As she approached the Caesar Chavez Memorial Plaza she hit pay dirt. The woman suddenly stepped out from behind one of the marble slabs at the plaza entrance. This time she was wearing a different overcoat, with the one she had on before draped over her arm. Louise stepped back into the trees, once again reaching for her phone and discreetly snapping a few more photos. She thought about calling the police again, but there were a number of patrol cars already racing down the streets with their lights on and sirens blazing.

  The woman began walking through the plaza, this time heading north. She casually dropped the overcoat into another trashcan. As soon as she reached Washington Street she turned, again heading east. Louise kept a safe distance, watching as she walked up to a small silver sedan parked in front of the old county courthouse. She reached into her pocket for her keys. A minute later she opened the driver's side door. Louise calmly approached her.

  "What on earth do you suppose is going on?"

  "I have no idea," she replied as she slipped behind the wheel. "Someone must have had a wreck, or something."

  "I guess so."

  Louise began to walk away. She turned to make a quick note of the car license plate number as she slowly headed toward the corner. As the car drove off, she stopped and reached into her purse for a piece of scrap paper, jotting down the license number along with the make and model of the car. Once again she called the police, and once again it took a few attempts before her call went through.

  "Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" This time it was a different operator.

  "Yes, I called a few minutes ago. I've followed the female shooter from the Sandra Day O'Conner building and I've taken some photos of her. She was wearing a red wig, which she threw into a trashcan near Fourth Avenue and Jackson. She's middle aged, with short blonde hair, and she's now wearing a dark-brown overcoat with black pants. She's driving a late-model, silver Honda Civic."

  "Where are you, ma'am?"

  "I'm on Washington Street. I'm standing right in front of the old Maricopa County court building, and my name is Louise Dickenson."

  "Ms. Dickenson, if you would please stay there, we'll send an officer to talk to you."

  Louise stood by, and a short time later a patrol car pulled up. She approached the officer inside.

  "Are you Louise Dickenson?"

  "Yes sir, I'm Louise."

  She immediately pulled out her phone and started showing him the photos.

  "Where is the woman now?"

  "I have no idea. She got into her car and drove away about five minutes ago. It was a late model Honda Civic. I wrote down the license plate number."

  She handed him the paper. He immediately radioed the information to the dispatcher.

  "Ma'am, if you'll hop into my car I need to take you down to the station so the detectives can interview you. We also need to download the photos."

  "Of course."

  As they headed to the station, Louise got curious.

  "I saw her shoot a man named Scott Andrews. He and I had just made an appearance in front of the judge. Is he all right?"

  "I'm not sure, ma'am. There were three people shot. I heard one is critical and not expected to make it."

  "Who were the other two?"

  "A man and a woman. I don't know their identities, nor do I know if next of kin have been notified."

  The car turned into the station and Louise was immediately escorted into a room where two FBI agents waited. She spent the next hour being interviewed.

  "You did a very brave thing today," he said as someone returned her cell phone. "But please, don't ever attempt anything like this again. She's armed and dangerous, and she could have just as easily shot you as well. Meantime, we've copied your photos, and they're going to be extremely helpful with our investigation."

  "It was my pleasure, however it's been a long day and I'm ready to go home. I'm parked in a garage near the courthouse. Would one of you mind taking me there?"

  "That might present a problem. Right now the police have the are
a around the courthouse cordoned off and the courthouse itself is in lockdown, along with several adjacent buildings. We're still looking for the shooter, so we can't allow anyone in the area until we're sure it's safe. You may as well make yourself comfortable, and as soon as we're able, we'll have someone take you to your car."

  "Can I have someone pick me up here?"

  "Of course. You can always come back and pick up your car later."

  Louise called her husband. Forty-five minutes later Karl picked her up. They immediately drove to the nearest television station.

  * * *

  Maggie pulled into the parking lot by the movie theaters at Desert Caliente Mall. She congratulated herself, knowing she'd pulled it off perfectly. She'd stopped to buy a movie ticket for one of the early matinees and she went inside the theater to buy a soda, putting all the charges on her debit card. As soon as she took her seat in the auditorium, she shut down her phone. Once the previews started she walked out, got into her car and drove to downtown Phoenix. Mission accomplished. She'd returned to the theaters in Mesa in plenty of time. She waited patiently. As soon as people began exiting the theater, she turned her phone back on and stepped out of her car, heading inside the mall to do a little shopping. It wasn't if, but when, O'Dell showed up at her door. This time she'd have the perfect alibi.

  Forty-Two

  Carrie held tightly to her father's hand. He was going in an out of consciousness while she kept reassuring him he would be all right. A crowd surrounded them and some of the people were trying to help. She heard the sound of approaching sirens. To her relief, the paramedics had arrived. She noticed two of them racing toward someone else. She'd overheard people saying there was a third victim. Whoever it was, she hoped they would be all right. She looked up and saw another medic looking down at her.

  "My father's been shot. He's a recovering cocaine addict. Please, be careful with him, and would someone please go find Alex, Alex Montoya. He's an attorney. He's inside the court building."

  "Please, calm down, Miss. We're taking care of your father. My name is Eric and I'll be taking care of you. It looks like you've been hit on your side. Have you been hit anyplace else?"

  "No, but my side feels like it's burning."

  Eric checked her side. "It looks like you were grazed by the bullet. I know it really smarts, but it's a superficial injury. I doubt you'll even need stiches. Do you have any medical conditions that we need to know about?"

  "Yes, I'm pregnant."

  "How far along?"

  "About nine weeks."

  Carrie heard him shouting something to the other paramedics, along with the sound of the other stretcher rolling by. As Eric started to put an IV into her arm, she looked over and saw them loading another man into a waiting ambulance.

  "Don't be scared, I'm really good at this. I try not to hurt you, I promise."

  "What about my father? I want to ride in the ambulance with him."

  "Sorry, there's only room for one, but we're taking him to the hospital right now. He'll be in the ambulance ahead of you."

  "He's a recovering cocaine addict."

  "We already know that. We'll be very careful with what we give him for pain. He's alive and at the moment his injuries don't appear to be life threatening."

  They put her on a stretcher and loaded her into the ambulance. "What about Alex? Did anyone call Alex?"

  "Please, Miss, calm down. We'll take care of that once we get you to hospital."

  "Which hospital?"

  "Sonoran Southwest. They have a Level-One trauma center. You and your father will be in the best of hands."

  Carrie was silent for the rest of the ride. Soon they were unloading her and rushing her into the ER. She was quickly taken into a treatment room where a nurse began asking her questions.

  "Where's Alex? Would someone please call Alex. He's my significant other."

  "I'll call him right now, just give me his number."

  Carrie gave her the number and the nurse dialed, but the call went straight to voice mail. After she left a message, Carrie gave her Steve's number, explaining that both he and Allison had her medical power of attorney. This time the nurse was able to get the call through.

  "You're friend is on his way," she said as she hung up. "He says he'll call his wife and Alex. Don't worry, they're coming."

  "What about my father? Jonathan Fields."

  "They're working on him right now. You're his daughter? Correct?"

  "I am."

  "Would you mind signing his paperwork? He's heavily sedated right now."

  "Of course."

  While Carrie was busy signing the paperwork for her father and herself, Billie Hughes entered the room.

  "Billie! I'm so glad you're here." Carrie reached out and Billie took her hand. "I don't understand what's happening. Why would anyone want to do this to me?"

  "Calm down, it'll be alright. That's what we're trying to find out. Because this happened on federal property the FBI will be in charge of the investigation, so I've volunteered to come talk to you. I'll need to ask you some questions, and as soon as they bring you a gown I'm going to have to take your dress and your blazer."

  "Why?"

  "It's evidence." Billie reached over and stroked Carrie's hair. "Besides, they're ruined anyway. They're torn and they have some bloodstains."

  Someone brought in a hospital gown and Billie carefully helped her out of the dress. She quickly sealed it into the evidence bag and helped Carrie into the gown. While she was interviewing her, the doctor came in. He introduced himself as Dr. Patrick Arnold.

  "You're a very lucky young lady," he said as he examined her injury. "We'll have to clean out the wound and bandage you up. You'll be a little sore for a few days and it'll leave a scar, otherwise you'll be fine."

  "That's good, but what about the baby?"

  "That's our main concern right now. As soon as you're bandaged, we'll need to check your cervix to be sure you're not bleeding or dilating. If not, then it's a good sign, and we'll know how far you're along. I also want to do an ultrasound, just to be sure the baby's all right."

  "You and me both. I'm not going to lose my baby, am I?"

  "Not if I have anything to do with it." He reached down and touched her arm. "I've seen pregnant women go through far worse injuries than yours and still deliver healthy babies. However, we'll need to keep a close watch on you to make sure nothing happens, so after we're done here, you'll be admitted." He looked over at Billie. "Are you about done? We need to start treating her."

  "I can come back later, and Carrie, congratulations."

  "Thanks. Billie, would you please call Alex? He needs to know that I'm all right."

  "Will do. I'll be back in a little while."

  Billie stepped out and the doctor went to work. He confirmed that she was indeed about nine weeks along, and she let out a big sigh of relief as soon as he told her he saw no sign of a possible miscarriage. Afterwards, he stepped out, saying a technician would be coming later on to do the ultrasound. The nurse asked if she wanted anyone to be with her while it was being done.

  "Yes," she said. "Please go get my friends."

  Billie soon returned to the room, bringing Steve with her. He reached down and took her hand.

  "I've called Allison. Her last class ends at three and after that she'll come straight to the hospital."

  "Thanks, Steve. Where's Alex?"

  "The court building's still in lockdown, so I sent him a text message and I left a message on his voice mail."

  "Has he returned either message?"

  "Not yet."

  "Damn. He must have turned off his phone."

  Billie continued interviewing Carrie, and about an hour later the technician came in with the ultrasound machine. She asked them to stay with her, but Steve felt out of place. She then asked if he would mind checking on Jonathan.

  "What's this about him being your father? George McCormick is here and he says it's true, but he won't give me any detail
s. He just said that Jonathan's family is on the way from Tucson and they'll explain it all when they get here."

  "I'm just as surprised as you are. I've always felt a connection to him, but I had no idea we were related. He must be the one who paid my legal bill."

  Steve stepped out. The technician squeezed the gel on Carrie's belly and started the ultrasound. Billie reached down and held her hand.

  "There's the baby." The technician pointed it out on the screen. "The heartbeat appears to be normal, and I'll be taking some measurements." She took her time, pointing out the little fingers and toes.

  "He looks like you," said Billie.

  "No, he looks like Alex."

  "You're a mama now, Baby Girl." Billie squeezed her hand. "So, how do you feel?"

  "I'm not sure. I don't know how to describe it, really. It's a miracle. I'm so grateful the baby's okay."

  "Okay and perfectly healthy," added the technician. "And you're right, you're in your ninth week. This little person, however, is completely unscathed. Probably slept through the whole thing. Oh, look at that. The baby's moving and stretching."

  Carrie marveled as she watched her baby move. "Alex says his family always seems to have boys, but we've decided to wait until the baby's born. We want it to be a surprise."

  The technician soon finished. "If you'll give me your email address, I'll send you a copy of the sonogram. Then you can show it to the father later on."

  Carrie thanked her and gave her the email address. After she left, Carrie was taken upstairs to her room. Billie came along with her. Much to her relief, she was put in a private room. A police officer was standing outside the door.

  "Jonathan Fields will be in the room next to yours," explained Billie, "that way the rest of the family will have easy access to both of you. However, you'll both be under police guard, so please let us know who to allow into your room."

  "Good heavens, Billie. You're making it sound like I'm a prisoner here."

  "No, you're not a prisoner, but until the shooter is apprehended, we have to keep the two of you safe. We also have to keep reporters, paparazzi, and other stalkers away from you. You need your privacy, Carrie, and trust me, in a high profile case like yours, people can and will show up to harass you."