Beside her picture, back arched and claws red with Reece’s blood, Fluffy reigned supreme.
Chapter Seventeen
“What right did you have to go through my car?” Fletcher’s face burned crimson and the vein on his forehead threatened to explode.
“I’m a law officer. I heard something suspicious.” Reece sat on the sofa parlor while Uncle Wayne dabbed Neosporin into the red streaks Fluffy had gouged into his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose.
Fletcher turned to me, his eyes flashing. “You went out there. Did you hear anything?”
I’d had time to piece together what had happened. Reece had cooked his own goose. I wasn’t going to rescue him. “No. Just Fluffy’s screech as Reece grabbed her out of the box.”
Uncle Wayne backed away as Fletcher bent over Reece till their noses nearly touched. “That cat had food, water, and a towel to sleep on. I’d slipped out twice to check on her. You just broke into my car, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t locked.”
“It’s a damn convertible. Lock it and somebody cuts in through the top.” Fletcher wasn’t backing down. For a college student, he showed no fear of Reece or the badge he wore. “If we get sued by the Cosgroves for what happened tonight, you’re going to pay the price if I have to hire the lawyers myself.”
The Cosgrove visitation had dispersed faster than a riot shot full of teargas. Nora had told Julius and a revived Dot to keep their mouths shut and let people believe the story Fletcher had concocted. Fluffy was his cat and happened to look like Mildred’s beloved. But Reece didn’t know that.
“Hire lawyers? Got a lot of money for a college student,” Reece said. “I priced that car at over thirty grand.”
Jesus. Hand Reece a can of gasoline and he’ll throw it on a fire. A fire he’s in the middle of. I placed my hand on Fletcher’s shoulder and nudged him back. “It’s not a crime to have an expensive car, Reece.”
“Where’d he get all that money?”
Fletcher’s muscles stiffened under my fingers. “That’s my business. I’m going to talk to the sheriff about you minding your own business.”
Reece paled. He knew Tommy Lee would probably come down to the funeral home, dragging his IV pole behind him, and beat him with it. “You are my business.” He folded his arms across his chest as if that closed the matter.
Fletcher backed away from me. “What’s he talking about?”
“Look,” I said. “It wasn’t my idea, but certain things had to be checked out.”
“Certain things?”
I felt like I was on a high wire and Reece had just pulled the net out from under me. His bumbling had put me in an awkward position between Fletcher and the case I was trying to protect. “Certain information has leaked. Someone knew we were onto Artie Lincoln. That’s the only motive we know for his murder.”
Fletcher threw up his hands. “So I’m a suspect?”
“You’re one of the people who knew Artie Lincoln’s identity. We’re checking everyone out.”
“And Lincoln died at my apartment complex. And Crystal Hodges died while I was in her hospital room.” Fletcher glared at Reece. “And the big clue—I drive a nice car.” He spun around, turning his back on all of us, and stormed out the front door.
Uncle Wayne broke the silence. “Reece, you were born stupid and you’ve been losing ground ever since.”
Tommy Lee clenched his teeth. I’d learned that when he was really mad, he didn’t say anything. I sat by his hospital bed and hoped he was far enough away from his surgery that his blood pressure wouldn’t blow out his stitches. He’d listened to my account of Reece’s screw-up and with each sentence his jaws tightened. Now I waited for his anger to vent somehow. I just didn’t want to be in its way.
Tommy Lee did something I never expected. He laughed, and then he cried because laughing still hurt. “Oh, God, why couldn’t I have been there?”
“Believe me, you wouldn’t have found it funny at the time.”
“The hell I wouldn’t have. I’d loved to have seen Reece sticking his face in that box like he’d discovered the crown jewels.” He started laughing again. “Then the cat’s on Reece like ugly on a hog.”
My grandmother’s favorite expression had never been used more appropriately.
“Tell me, could Reece even see where he was going?” Tommy Lee asked.
I replayed the scene in my mind but this time from Tommy Lee’s perspective. “No. It was like he was dancing with a bag over his head. Yelping and hollering. The white cat made him look like Santa Claus break-dancing.”
Tommy Lee took a deep breath and sighed with satisfaction. “Serves Reece right. And it gives me a way to keep him in line with one word.”
“What’s that?”
Tommy Lee grinned. “Meow.”
“He put me in a hell of a mess with Fletcher.”
“Don’t worry. If the kid’s got any sense, he’ll understand. If he’s guilty and makes a break for it, then we’ll know. My bet’s that he was more upset with the Fluffy debacle than Reece searching his car.”
“And if he doesn’t bolt, then you think he’s innocent?”
“No. Fletcher could be guilty and damn smart. He’ll stay put as long as we don’t have any real evidence.” Tommy Lee looked at the wall clock. Nearly ten. “I’d hoped you’d be here sooner, but I understand the delay.” He picked up a folder on the table beside him. “Here’s what Susan brought me. She highlighted the prescriptions in question.”
I flipped through the pages. None of the patient dates were any earlier than December of the previous year. “Did Susan tell you she didn’t find any discrepancies before six months ago?”
“Yes. And that Doug didn’t start working at the hospital till then.”
“Yeah.” I closed the folder. “Pretty damning, I’d say.”
“Oh, he’s tied to forged prescriptions all right. Now we need to know why.”
The answer to that question seemed obvious. “How about a thousand percent profit.”
“There’s that, but then there’s your statement that you’d sooner suspect Nick Foster of fleecing his patients.”
“That’s before I saw these printouts.”
“Yeah. The evidence. But not necessarily the evidence of the motive.” Tommy Lee kicked the bed sheet free from his legs. “I’m hot. Let’s take a walk down the hall. I need some air and I’m supposed to get some exercise.” He glanced at the folder in my hand. “Bring that with you.”
The halls were quiet at this time of night. Tommy Lee clutched his IV pole with one hand and took slow, deliberate steps.
When we’d gone a few yards outside his door, he asked, “Is there a waiting room on this floor?”
“Down near the intensive care wing.”
“Good. I might want to rest a few minutes before we head back.” Tommy Lee gave a light cough.
“Don’t overdo it.”
“I’m all right. I heard back from the warden at Central Prison this afternoon.”
“Did Chip and Delbert Larson know each other?”
“No. Turns out Chip did his time in Tennessee.”
I wasn’t surprised. Linking Chip, Delbert, and Doug was too much to hope for. “I’m still going to confront Doug about these prescriptions.”
“It’s your case, but maybe it would be better if I talked to Doug.”
“Why?”
“Two reasons. One, I’ve known Doug all his life. Two, I want to talk to him about Delbert as well as the prescriptions.”
“Delbert? You think Delbert’s running this from his jail cell?”
“Not unless he could do it from the hospital infirmary.” Tommy Lee stopped walking and caught his breath. “About six months ago, Delbert was beaten to within an inch of his life in the yard. The warden said Delbert had been a model prisoner, kept his nose clean, and stayed clear of the gangs. Somebody wanted him hurt real bad and knew what they were doing. Delbert won’t identify his attackers.”
; “Six months ago?”
“I thought you’d like that.” Tommy Lee started walking. “I’m thinking somebody sent Doug Larson a message, and now I’ve got to be a hard-assed son of a bitch and squeeze that message out of him.”
“Maybe we’ve got things backwards. Maybe Lincoln was running Doug.”
“Lincoln had to have long arms to reach inside Central Prison. Doug took quite a gamble if he killed Lincoln.”
“What do you think?”
“I think our little town is playing in the big leagues, and you and I might be in over our heads.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You want to turn the case over to the feds?”
Tommy Lee stopped again. “You ever been in whitewater?”
“I’ve gone rafting on the Nantahala and Chattooga.”
“The guides pointed out the hydraulics, right?”
“Yeah.” Hydraulics are pools at the base of falls where the tumbling current creates a trap, the most dangerous spot on a river. The water churns in on itself like a giant washing machine and can catch someone in the powerful turbulence, keeping them submerged for days.
“So when you’re in over your head in a hydraulic, there’s only one way to break free,” Tommy Lee said. “You have to dive deeper where the force of the water is weakest and hope to God it spits you out. We’re in over our heads and we’re going to have to dive deeper. I think Doug Larson’s been in a hydraulic for six months and he’s going to drown if he doesn’t dive with us.”
Six months ago, Delbert Larson was nearly beaten to death and Doug Larson began writing forged prescriptions. A bell went off in my head. Six months ago I got a call from the Cincinnati College of Mortuary Science that a student had requested placement in Gainesboro. I kept that thought to myself.
Tommy Lee pushed open the door to the intensive care waiting room. “Good. It’s empty. I want to talk to Doug in here where I don’t look so feeble.”
“What if we’re interrupted?”
“See if you can find a cleaning crew and borrow one of those signs they put outside the restrooms.”
I turned to go.
“Wait. I want you to call Doug first. It’ll take him a while to get up here. Tell him you’d like to talk in person about your father’s condition. About what’s being prescribed. I want to catch him off-guard.”
I used the phone in the waiting room and got Doug’s assurance he’d be up in about fifteen minutes. He sounded grateful to help.
With the “Closed for Cleaning” sign positioned by the door, I waited in the hall. Within five minutes, the elevator doors at the far end opened and Doug emerged. He wore a white lab coat with his hospital ID on the lapel. As he came closer, I could see the weariness behind his smile.
“Sorry to hear about your father.” Doug noticed the cleaning sign. “Do you want to talk in his room?”
“No. My mom’s with him. The cleaning crew’s gone.” I opened the door for him. “I asked them to leave the sign so we wouldn’t be disturbed.”
Doug took two steps into the waiting room and froze. Tommy Lee sat in one of the small upholstered chairs he had dragged to the center of the room. His IV pole towered over him like a royal scepter. In his lap lay the folder with Susan’s prescription records. Directly in front of him was a second chair.
Tommy Lee pointed to the vacant chair. “Take a seat, Doug.”
Doug glanced back at me. His weariness had been replaced with panic. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what we aim to find out,” Tommy Lee said. “No one knows you’re here. I hope to keep it that way.”
Doug walked like a zombie to the chair and sat down. “There must be some mistake,” he murmured.
Tommy Lee nodded for me to stay by the door. I wished I could see Doug’s face but I realized Tommy Lee had created extra psychological pressure by keeping me out of Doug’s line of vision.
“You’re right, Doug. I think there’s been a big mistake. Going back six months and ending with a murder.”
“Murder?” Doug sounded genuinely shocked.
Tommy Lee calmly answered the question with one of his own. “Have you heard from Delbert lately?”
Doug’s shoulders shook and he gripped the arms of his chair. “Has something happened to my son?”
“Yes. I asked the warden at Central Prison to place Delbert in protective custody away from the other inmates. I was sorry to learn about his—” Tommy Lee feigned a difficult word choice “—his unfortunate incident. But I don’t know how long the warden can extend that little favor for me.”
“What do you want?” Doug’s voice had gone dry as withered grass.
“I want to know who threatened you.”
Doug forced a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tommy Lee leaned forward. “We’ve known each other a long time. Your dad used to slip us free cokes from the soda fountain when we were kids. The Doug Larson I grew up with isn’t a criminal. Somebody changed that.” Tommy Lee picked up the folder. “Since Delbert was attacked, you’ve been falsifying prescriptions through the hospital pharmacy. I suspect you’ve been doing the same thing through your drugstore. One call to the licensing board will have them going through your records. That will be the least of your worries. I’ll press for a murder charge. Someone’s got to be held accountable.”
Doug twisted in his seat to look at me. The sheen of perspiration glowed on his forehead. “I never harmed that girl. I swear.”
The back of my neck tingled. Tommy Lee hadn’t mentioned Crystal Hodges. He’d been referring to Artie Lincoln’s death.
“I’m offering you a way out,” Tommy Lee said. “Take it.”
“I can’t.” Doug buried his face in his hands.
“Look at me,” Tommy Lee said. “I know what you’re up against. Are they from Florida? Raleigh? Detroit? New York? You’ve got to help me before I can help you.”
Doug lifted his head. “I don’t want your help. I know what I’m doing.”
Tommy Lee struggled out of the chair. “Bullshit!” He leaned on the IV pole for support. “You’re lying. You know it. I know it. Barry knows it.”
Doug stood up and held out his hands. “Then arrest me.”
Tommy Lee gave him an icy smile. “No. I’ve got a better idea.” He motioned me to step away from the door. “I’m going to let you walk out of here. But not back to the hospital pharmacy. You’ve worked your last shift there. Tell them you’re not feeling well and have to go home.”
Doug stared at Tommy Lee with a defiant expression.
“I’m giving you till eight o’clock tomorrow morning to come to your senses and tell us the whole story. If you don’t, then I’m going to arrest you and charge you with drug trafficking.”
The faintest outline of a smile appeared on Doug’s face.
“And as soon as I do,” Tommy Lee continued, “I’m filing a report naming you not only as a co-conspirator but as a cooperating witness in our investigation. I’m sending the report to the police at Delray Beach where we first tracked Artie Lincoln. They’ll pass it along to the DEA where your name will be added to their witness list. Next, I’m calling Central Prison and instructing them to return Delbert to the general inmate population.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Doug’s voice was almost a wail.
Tommy Lee’s one eye stared at Doug without blinking. “We both know exactly what I’m doing. Now get out of here.”
Doug seemed to shrivel under Tommy Lee’s gaze. He turned and walked past me, his breath coming in slow sobs.
I closed the door behind him. Tommy Lee collapsed in his chair.
“I need to get you back to bed.”
He didn’t argue. “All right. Give me a moment.” He raised his hand to his forehead. His fingers trembled.
“You heard the reference to Crystal,” I said.
“Yeah. He thinks she was murdered. He wouldn’t break even though he’s terrified.”
“Are
you going to do what you said?”
Tommy Lee shook his head. “How heartless do you think I am? But I want Reece to organize a tail on him and I’ll get Judge Wood to issue a search warrant for his house and business.”
“Is that why you didn’t want much about Doug in my report to Roy Spring? You were afraid it would leak?”
“I don’t like losing control of a case.”
Maybe, I thought. And maybe Tommy Lee had already made the connection I was making. We were looking at everyone who could have marked Artie Lincoln for execution because they knew we were closing in on him. Lieutenant Roy Spring of the Delray Police had that information, and I had only his word that he’d never heard of Lincoln. Had he really not known about the pending bust by the DEA? Could Spring be dirty? Could that be why Artie Lincoln came north with a stolen credit card?
We were tumbling in turbulent waters all right. But how could we dive deeper when we didn’t know which way was up and which way was down?
Chapter Eighteen
Mom yanked the lever on the side of the recliner and brought the chair upright. Light blue yarn and someone’s half-knitted Christmas present bounced in her lap. “How’d the visitation go?”
I nudged foam from the nozzle of the antiseptic can mounted just inside Dad’s hospital room and pretended to concentrate on cleansing my hands. I didn’t want to lie to Mom’s face. “Fine. A lot of people asked about Dad and send you their love.”
“That’s kind. It’s almost eleven. They must have hung around.”
I walked to the far side of the bed where I could be closer to Dad. “We had a little excitement. I left the back door open and a cat got in.”
“A cat?”
“Yeah. It startled Dot since it looked like one Mildred used to have. You know how people read omens into the slightest things. Fletcher shooed it out.”
“I hope it doesn’t start hanging around the funeral home.”
“How’s Dad?” I laid my palm on his forehead. His skin felt warm.
Final Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series) Page 19