Targeted: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 3)

by Marjorie Doering

  Ray felt his stomach lurch and headed back to the corridor. “Lathrop,” he managed, “when you’re done... in the hallway.”

  Lathrop stepped out and asked, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ray said. “Listen, Lathrop. At this point, it’s certain someone’s after that woman in there; we don’t know who. Don’t trust anyone. I don’t care if they’re wearing a stethoscope, a Candy Striper’s outfit, or a priest’s collar. The same goes for that nurse you saw leave a while ago. Got me? Don’t screw this up.”

  “I won’t,” Lathrop said. “Don’t worry.”

  But Ray did.

  27

  At 5:33 PM, Ray walked through his own front door with a weary, “Hi, I’m home.”

  Joey tore around the corner, hiking up a tiny pair of corduroy pants before reaching out with both arms. “Daddy!”

  Ray scooped him into the crook of his arm and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. “Hey, pal, how’s it going?”

  “Hi, Dad,” Krista shouted from the living room.

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  Drawn by the smell of food, Ray followed the scent to the kitchen and set Joey down with a pat on the rump. The second both feet hit the floor, the three year old darted off in another direction.

  “Hi, hon,” Gail said. “I’m glad you made it in time for supper.”

  Ray laid his coat over a kitchen chair and stepped up behind her drawing his fingertips over her arms with a touch so gentle they barely made contact. Nuzzling her neck, he wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Mmmmm. You smell even better than the food… and I’m starving.”

  “A double entendre?” Gail asked.

  “Uh-huh. Take it whichever way you like.”

  She grinned over her shoulder. “The way I like would postpone supper, and dinner’s almost ready—pot roast and chocolate cherry cheesecake.” Still in his arms, Gail turned toward him. “Better pencil any extracurricular activities in for later; the kids are all hungry.”

  He kissed her and gave her butt a playful slap. “Where’s Laurie, babe?”

  “In the living room the last time I looked.”

  “Ah. So I’m still getting the silent treatment?”

  Gail tapped the edge of the Dutch oven with the serving spoon. “I think she’s going for a new record.” She opened the oven door and bent over to get a better look. “Oh, my buns are burning.”

  He looked at her backside appreciatively. “They look good to me.”

  Gail laughed. “Hurry up and get changed; I’ll have dinner on the table when you get back downstairs.”

  Within five minutes, Ray returned wearing jeans and a blue, V-necked sweater pushed up to his elbows. Gail’s favorite. The royal blue brought out the blue in his gray-blue eyes.

  Over dinner, Ray watched Laurie sitting in silence, jabbing at her food like she wished it were him. His attempts to engage her were answered with what amounted to petulant grunts. At the end of the meal, she fled the table without a word.

  Running a hand over Krista’s head, he smiled and pointed a finger at her. “Three years from now, you’re going to be one of two teenage girls in this house. When the time comes, have some mercy on your old man, will ya?”

  “Sure, Dad.” Krista gave his cheek a quick kiss and helped Joey from his booster seat while Ray got up and helped Gail clear the table.

  “Babe,” he said, handing her the basket of leftover dinner rolls, “I’ve got to duck out for a while, but I promise I won’t be gone long.”

  “What? You only got home an hour ago. Where are you going?”

  “Abbott Northwestern. I need to talk to Amy.”

  “As in Conley?” She spun around to face him. “What’s she doing there?”

  “She took a bad fall down her basement stairs this morning.”

  Gail began rinsing the dishes. “I’m sorry to hear that. She’s okay, though, right?”

  “Yeah, it looks like she will be, but I left before anyone showed up with her x-ray results or any kind of prognosis.”

  “Wait.” The plates clattered as Gail shoved them in the dishwasher. “You were there already?”

  “Briefly.”

  Gail’s chin jutted forward. “Then why not wait until tomorrow to see her, or why don’t you just phone her? Better yet, send a card. Why do you have to put in another personal appearance? Twice in one day no less.”

  “Honey, this isn’t a social visit.” He hung both hands loosely on his hips.” Someone tampered with her stairs. Her fall wasn’t accidental.”

  Gail’s breath left her body is a single, huge sigh. “That’s awful, but isn’t that Dick’s concern?”

  “He’s on his way to Missouri to interview Amy’s ex in-laws. That gives me a small window of opportunity to get some firsthand information from her with Dick’s blessings.” He cupped Gail’s shoulders in his hands and felt her tense up. “I only stayed at the hospital until the officer assigned to stand guard outside her room showed up. Anyway, I didn’t stick around long; Amy was sick to her stomach.”

  Ray’s intense aversion to that particular physical activity would have elicited a joke from Gail under other circumstances, but she was in no mood to kid.

  He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “Honey, I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to go. I’ll hurry; you’ve got my word.” He backed out of the kitchen, saying, “Great supper, babe.”

  Out of sight and earshot of the kids, Gail flung a leftover roll in his direction as he grabbed a jacket and shut the front door behind him. “Maybe you can just climb into the hospital bed with her while you’re at it,” she muttered. “Damn it, Ray.”

  Anxious to smooth things over with Gail, Ray hurried into the hospital and went directly to Amy’s room. Turning the final corner, he saw Lathrop’s replacement posted outside her door, a magazine in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He approached the cop and showed his badge.

  “Has Ms. Conley had any visitors?”

  The guard, as sturdy as a fireplug but less appealing, answered, “Three. Four if you count that nurse friend of hers. She’s been here a few times.”

  “Who were the others?” Ray wanted to know.

  The cop pulled a notepad out of a pocket and flipped through a few pages. “There was a Larry Benedict. He gave me his business card. He’s a—”

  “I know who he is. What about the other two?”

  “One was a good-looking redhead.” Whitman’s eyes dropped back to the page. “Nicole Wright. Later a Jessica Hall came by.” He flipped the notepad shut and tucked it away. “When I told the Hall woman she couldn’t go in, all hell broke loose. She was awfully damned set on getting in there,” he said. “I had Security escort her out of the building. Since then it’s been quiet as a tomb around here.”

  “All right, thanks.” Ray stuck his head inside and saw Amy clutching the phone to her ear in a death grip.

  She glanced up and motioned him inside. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she said into the mouthpiece. “What? No, I never suggested it was any of you.” Her jaw was set. “Maybe if you hadn’t put on that display in the restaurant parking lot—” She listened for a second before reacting. “That’s not true; I loved Hugh; it was never about money. You’d know that if you had gotten to know me, but you never even bothered to make an effort.” Ray stood beside the bed, listening as Amy’s face turned a vivid shade of red. “All right, you listen to me,” she said. “You wanted me out of your family? Done. Now get out of my life. Don’t call me or contact me in any way ever again.”

  She tried to slam the receiver into the cradle, but it was just out of her reach.

  Ray took the handset and slammed it down for her. “Hard enough?” he asked her.

  Amy’s head dropped back against the pillow. “Perfect, thanks. I just hope she was still on the line.”

  “Hugh’s mother, I take it.”

  “Yes.” Amy winced. “His father is the brains of the opera
tion; she’s the mouth.” Her eyes brimmed.

  He took a box of tissues from the bedside table and handed it to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Damn it, Ray,” she said, snatching a tissue from the box, “Why do they have to be such assholes?” She offered a quiet “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. It sounds like an accurate description.” He waited until she dried her eyes and blew her nose. “After you were brought here, Detective Waverly contacted the Springfield police and asked them to check out the Conleys’ whereabouts around the time of the stair-tampering. Apparently, your former in-laws didn’t take that well.”

  “I figured it was something like that. Hugh’s mother insisted I’d accused them of rigging my stairs.”

  “If they thought we wouldn’t come up with that possibility on our own, they’re not just obnoxious, Amy, they’re idiots.” Ray tried to ignore a potent whiff of hospital disinfectants. “I’ve got to tell you…hurt or not, you’ve got a wicked, verbal uppercut. Nice going.

  “I’m giving you a heads-up, though, Amy. The local police couldn’t verify the whereabouts of Hugh’s younger brother around the time your stairs were booby-trapped. Right now he’s in Springfield with the rest of his family, but his alibi is still in question. Waverly’s on his way there to question the whole family.”

  She grabbed another tissue. “This sucks. This really, really sucks.”

  “I know. We’re trying to get answers as fast as we can, but we need more to go on.”

  “We?” Amy’s eyes filled with hope. “Are you working on my case now, too?”

  The faith she seemed to have in him made answering harder. “Sorry. ‘We’ comes out of my mouth by force of habit. You’ve got my word that I’m doing everything I can, and I’ve been pushing the limits pretty hard.”

  “I know and I’m grateful for that, Ray. I’m just really scared.”

  “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to you in here.”

  “Not in here maybe, but I’ve got to leave at some point.”

  He knew that all too well, and that knowledge tied a knot in his stomach. “Any word about when you can expect to be released?”

  “Not yet. They’ve got me scheduled for surgery early tomorrow morning. They’ll probably have a better idea after that.”

  “What kind of surgery?”

  “The break in my lower leg is pretty bad. They said they can’t get the bones aligned properly any other way. They’re going to work on my knee at the same time. A meniscus tear, I think they called it. It doesn’t sound too major.”

  “The knee and a fracture… The same leg?”

  “Mm-hmm. At least one of my legs is still in working order.”

  It was good news and bad at the same time. “It sounds like you’ll be out of here before long. By the time they cut you loose, there should be safeguards in place for you.” He checked his watch.

  “Do you need to be somewhere else?” she asked.

  “Home, actually. I skipped out on Gail and the kids tonight. I’m treading on thin ice.”

  “Then, for heaven’s sake, go.”

  “I will as soon as you answer a few questions for me. Are you up to it?”

  “I’ll give it a try.”

  He smiled and began. “What’s going on with your friend Jessica Hall?”

  The question brought on a flash flood of tears. “She’s no friend. Yesterday I found a picture of her under the drawer liner in Hugh’s dresser. A nude photo, Ray. I loved her like a sister. How could she sleep with my husband?”

  “It was her then?” Ray shook his head. “The officer outside your room said he had to have her removed by security when he wouldn’t let her in to see you. I take it she knows you found out.”

  “I guess so.” Amy brushed a tear away. “When I found the photo, Liz was with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called Jessie and gave her a good-sized piece of her mind.”

  “Has Jessie admitted to having an affair with Hugh?”

  “She hasn’t admitted or denied anything. I haven’t spoken to her since I came across the picture.”

  Adding Hall’s name to the list of suspects wasn’t going to lighten Waverly’s load, but investigating her involvement himself would be stepping out of bounds. All Ray could do was to turn the information over to Waverly once he got back from Springfield.

  “Wow,” Ray said, “your day’s been bad on all sorts of levels, hasn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.” She balled up a damp tissue in her fist and grabbed a fresh one. “Larry Benedict even showed up today. He phoned after the officer sent him away.”

  “How did he know you were here?” he asked. “Did you call him?”

  “Me? No. Nicki contacted him. I wanted to strangle her when I found out, but she meant well. She said she thought it would do me some good to hear from my well-wishers.” Her head dropped back against the pillow, tears puddling at the corners of her closed eyes. “In all fairness, she didn’t have many people to choose from.”

  Ray turned his attention to a huge, mixed bouquet. “Are those from him?” he asked, suddenly uncomfortably aware he had come empty-handed.

  She nodded. “Larry wanted to deliver them himself, but Officer Lathrop sent him away and brought the flowers in for him.”

  “Okay, moving on,” Ray said. “Someone’s gotten into your house twice now without the use of forced entry. Did either you or Hugh give his parents a spare key to your place?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’d have been more likely to build a moat than give them a key, Ray.”

  “What about Hugh?”

  “I doubt it. They weren’t on good terms. What difference does it make anyway? I’ve had the locks changed.”

  “When was this? The last I heard from my partner, you were still waiting on the locksmith to show up.”

  “He finally put in an appearance two days ago.”

  “Did you tell that to Detective Waverly?”

  It looked like invisible weights had been attached to her eyelids. It took time for her to pull the memory out. “Maybe not,” she said at last. “I may have forgotten.”

  Ray shook his head and offered Amy a glass of water. She turned it down. “Have you had any more trouble with either of the Retzingers?”

  “I haven’t seen Ronald at all lately. A couple of times I’ve caught sight of his father coming or going. Each time, he seemed to make a point of looking across the way at my place, but then he just moved on. He makes me nervous, but at least he’s been keeping his distance.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk about the stairs,” he said.

  “I already discussed that with Detective Waverly.”

  “Sometimes it helps me to hear the information firsthand. Bear with me, okay? Before this morning, when was the last time you used those stairs?”

  “Just before I left the house to go out with Liz last night.” Amy’s eyelids fluttered as she continued. “Whoever tampered with them must’ve done it between eight and eleven while I was gone.”

  “Or,” Ray pointed out, “someone might’ve gotten in and done the job after you were asleep upstairs.”

  “I didn’t go upstairs last night.” The volume of Amy’s voice ebbed. “I got pretty wasted. When I got home, I curled up on my couch and stayed there until this morning.” Her eyelids blinked more rapidly. “And the no-forced-entry business doesn’t make sense, especially now that my locks were changed.”

  Another question begged to be asked, but Amy’s exhaustion and medications took their toll. Her breathing slowed, and the muscles in her face went slack as her eyes closed.

  Frustrated, Ray slipped out of the room and told Whitman, “She’s asleep; I’m leaving. Stay on your toes.”

  As his elevator descended, Ray dug his car keys out of a pocket, trying to remember the location of the nearest florist shop.

  28

  Mid-morning of the following day, Gail drove to the other side of Eden Prairie. Joey sat in his car seat, singing about Ol
d McDonald’s farm while she tried to talk herself out of what she was about to do. Maybe her best friend Julie would have better luck.

  She pulled into the Monroes’ driveway and lifted Joey from his seat as the front door swung open.

  “Hey, you two, hi!” Julie said, waving them inside.

  Joey ran up the walkway ahead of Gail and dashed into the house calling, “Tay! Hey, Tay!”

  “Slow down, Joey.” Julie grabbed him, slipped his jacket off and ruffled his hair. “Okay, go ahead. Taylor’s waiting for you in the family room.” Without hesitation, he dashed off to find Julie’s four-year-old daughter.

  Gail stepped inside. “I really appreciate this, Julie.”

  “It’s no problem; I’m happy to keep an eye on Joey for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry about the short notice.”

  “I had no earthshaking plans for the day anyway. I’m stuck here waiting for a repairman. My washer died.” Tall and lean, Julie strode ahead of Gail to the kitchen. “You have time for a cup of coffee before you run off, don’t you?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Glad to have a reason to procrastinate, Gail sat down at the kitchen table, still in her coat.

  Julie continued to talk as she poured the coffee. “You’re in luck; it’s fresh.” She set the cups on the table and joined Gail. “I hope the repairman bothers to show up. I’ve used him before. He’s downright surly and totally unreliable.”

  “So why are you using him again?”

  Julie brought the tips of her thumb and first two fingers to her lips and kissed them with an Italian-style flourish. “The man is an artiste. Three years ago, he resurrected my dishwasher. It was nothing short of an Old Testament-style miracle, and the darned thing’s still going strong. The same with my garbage disposal. He does such good work I’ve even learned to put up with his plumber’s crack.”

  “Is he cute at least?”

  “Not even remotely. Hey, I didn’t think to ask you, Gail. This trip to the hospital… Who’s sick?”