“Don’t be foolish,” Poole said. “I’m a doctor with a good grasp of anatomy, and I’m also a very good shot.” She glanced at me. “How about you, Aimee?”
“Just tell me where to aim.”
“Go ahead, ladies, take your best shot.” Weber laughed. “You hit a cop, you’ll have to tell it to a judge. This guy is dead if you don’t toss me one of those guns and put the others down.”
I believed him.
Poole swore, looked at me. Her hands were still tied. I put both my guns on the ground. She put one on the ground and slowly walked toward Weber, holding the other gun by the barrel. I watched, desperate to help, my mind racing through possible jujitsu moves that could break Weber’s hold on the policeman. But how to get close enough?
A small airplane suddenly streaked toward us, flying too low. The pilot had to be in trouble—the plane coming at us was surely going to crash into Poole’s house. Then I saw the tail number and realized it was one of Buck Sawyer’s planes. I expected to see Nick at the controls, but the pilot was Rella. She pulled the nose up just in time, circled, and came at us again. Weber craned his neck to see what was going on. He still had his arm around the officer’s neck, but between reaching for the gun in Poole’s hand and leaning back to watch the plane, he was doubly distracted.
While he stared at the sky, I lunged behind him, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and crouched down, giving a vicious yank. Weber lost his grip on the cop and flipped backward over me, landing face-first on the sidewalk. I looked up from his bloody nose just in time to see Rella tip her wings and fly away. I expected to see Nick and Harry appear any minute, but neither of them arrived before Officer Blake had arrested and cuffed Weber and locked him in the backseat of the TPD cruiser.
By then the older cop had regained consciousness, and a stunning goose egg had sprouted on his forehead. Dr. Poole told him to lie still, that she had called for an ambulance. While we waited, the enraged Weber, with blood bubbling from his nose, shouted obscenities through the partially open window of the cruiser. He screamed about police brutality, ranted that he was innocent, that he wanted a lawyer. While he worked himself into a frenzy, Officer Blake stood at the window, and despite Weber’s tirade, calmly recited the Miranda warning.
“Sir, you have the right to remain silent ….”
Chapter 38
Dr. Poole and I were not placed under arrest. We both volunteered to go to the police station to give our versions of the incident. There we were placed in separate interview rooms. I’d been alone for an hour when a woman with a droopy face and close-cropped blond hair came in looking far more real than the glamorous actresses who play lady cops on TV. Her maroon pantsuit had been in style when I was in middle school. She peered at me through thick lenses with dark red frames.
“Hello, I’m detective Wooten. I brought you a bottle of water, but before we begin this interview, can I get you coffee? Maybe a soda?”
“I’m fine with the water,” I said. “I’d rather get started. But first, isn’t there something about a Miranda warning?”
Wooten smiled. “No. That’s a common misunderstanding. Since you’re not under arrest, we have no need to Mirandize you. We simply want to hear your version of the incident involving our officers. Are you willing to help us out with that?”
“Yes, I’d like to do that. But first, can you tell me if the officers who were attacked are okay?”
“They’re being checked out. Thank you for asking.” She uncapped her pen and held it over a notepad. “Now I’d like for you to tell me everything you can remember about the incident that brought you here today. I’ll take notes, but your statement will also be recorded.”
I told her I knew the police were looking for Cliff Weber and Echo O’Brien and that I had reason to believe they might have gone to Dr. Poole’s house.
“I knew both of them were injured, and since one of them is related to Dr. Poole, I thought they might go to her for medical care. I went to her home to see if I was right. When I spotted their vehicle, I called 911 right away.”
“Interesting,” Wooten was jotting quickly on her notepad. “Go on.”
I gave her a blow by blow account of everything that happened from the time I arrived until a second TPD unit finally showed up and Weber was taken away. I stopped to sip from my water bottle.
“That’s all I can tell you, Detective Wooten. Are we finished?”
“Not quite. We have been informed that you assaulted Mr. Weber on two occasions—on the first occasion tearing his earlobe and on the second, breaking his nose.”
I was so glad to hear his nose was broken that I almost smiled.
Detective Wooten went on. “We’ve also been told that you broke the wrist of Mrs. O’Brien.” She leaned back in her chair. “What can you tell me about those allegations?”
“Mr. Weber attacked me in the basement of the hospital where I work on the first occasion, and I injured his ear trying to free myself. His nose was broken during today’s incident when I used a jujitsu technique to force him to release the police officer he was threatening with a chokehold. I’m sure the officer involved will verify my account.”
“He’s being interviewed. We’ll see if your stories match. What about the woman with the broken wrist?”
“That also happened at the hospital where I work. She tried to kill me with a syringe filled with phenobarbital. I had to disable her to save myself. Again, I was forced to use a martial arts technique. I hold a third degree black belt. If you’d like to verify, I have my ID from the dojo where I’m a member.”
“Maybe later. Tell me more about why this woman would want to kill you with the syringe. Does it somehow pertain to today’s incident?”
“Yes. I suspect that the woman who calls herself Echo O’Brien has already committed one murder, and I found evidence that should prove Cliff Weber is also a killer.”
I related the entire story, starting with how I found the club used to kill Cody O’Brien, and how hospital records led to the discovery that Echo had almost certainly killed DeeDee Dakota two and a half years earlier. Detective Wooten left me in the room at that point, asking me to stay until she returned.
While I waited, I wondered what had kept both Nick and Harry from showing up at Poole’s house. I had called Nick and left my phone on, then later Rella showed up in the plane, but Nick never appeared. And where was Harry? I had no idea if he’d even seen the message I left for him.
Detective Wooten finally came back into the room. “We’re finished here. Please come with me.” She escorted me to the lobby, where Nick and Harry stood smiling.
“You’re free to go, Miss Machado.” The detective gave me her card in case I thought of anything else to tell her.
Nick, Harry, and I headed for Coyote Creek, where we hurried through the outdoor chores so we could unwind in the main house and compare notes.
Nick filled us in first with his account. He and Rella knew what was going on, because his phone and mine had been connected. He knew Echo had escaped and he knew Poole’s address. They agreed that Rella should fly over to assess the situation while Nick went in pursuit of Echo. He guessed correctly that she might head down the freeway to Sacramento and try to catch a flight to parts unknown. Nick was able to station himself along the freeway and watch for her Hummer. As soon as he spotted it, he called in her location to the CHP. Meanwhile, Rella flew by Poole’s house, saw Weber restraining the officer, and put her skills to good use.
Next, Harry told his part of the story. He hadn’t checked his messages right away, and by the time he did, I’d already called Nick and left my phone on, so he couldn’t return my call. Nick’s phone was tied up, too, so Harry was in the dark. He assumed Nick and I were handling some kind of situation, so he waited awhile, but after an hour passed and he still couldn’t reach either of us, he got curious and called Rella.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “How did you happen to know her number?”
“Remember, she had to
call me to take over the night she was watching Cleo for a possible concussion. After that, her number was in my phone.”
“Oh, right. The night she thought her nephew had chicken pox.”
“Right. Turned out the kid only had poison oak. Anyway, Rella had already buzzed the scene. She filled me in and I figured I’d drop by the TPD office to see what was going on. Nick showed up at about the same time.”
“Meanwhile,” Nick added, “Jared Quinn had filled in the blanks with the police about your tussle with Echo at the hospital, and Cleo had told them what she knew. It became obvious that Weber and Echo were two very bad characters, and that you and Dr. Poole were only trying to save your own skins. Tucker confirmed that the incinerator hasn’t been used since you were out at the O’Brien compound, so with a search warrant, that club Weber used on Cody should be easy to find.”
“Search warrant,” I said. “Did anyone say whether I’m going to be in trouble for breaking into the taxidermy shop?”
“None of the O’Briens will want to see that happen. Especially since you found the weapon that proved Cody was murdered. At most, some judge might feel obliged to give you a lecture and a slap on the wrist.”
Harry broke into a broad grin. “Looks like your pal Game Boy is no longer a suspect.”
“I’m glad, but there’s one more thing that has me confused. Keely, James, and Tucker weren’t allowed to visit Seamus in the ICU, but the police didn’t find any of them at the O’Brien ranch. Where were they?”
“I know that one,” Harry said. “The three of them were in Sacramento with Seamus’s estate lawyer. Apparently Seamus gave them instructions about writing Echo out of his will. He wanted it done immediately in case he didn’t recover.”
“But she’s still legally his wife and pregnant. How will they get around that? The baby will be his legal heir, won’t it?”
“Turns out Echo—or Caroline Poole, or whoever she is—was never legally married to Seamus,” Harry said. “She was already married to Cliff Weber when she walked down the aisle with Seamus. Once bigamy is tacked on to her other crimes, not the least of which are murder and attempted murder, she’ll probably be a guest of the state for the rest of her life.”
“But she’s pregnant. What’s going to become of that child?” God help it if Jackie Poole got custody.
“Apparently, even with her lack of qualifications for motherhood, Echo still has a say in that, and she hasn’t decided.”
“There’s one more thing that puzzles me,” I said. “Why did James think he’d seen Phyllis Poole in DeeDee Dakota’s hospital room in Idaho?”
Nick answered that one. “Poole was cut loose a couple hours ago and went straight to Cleo. They had an interesting and very private chat. Cleo knew you’d want to know, so she filled me in right away.”
“Cleo and Poole? This should be interesting.”
“It is. It turns out Poole was in Dunnsville on some kind of family business at the time of DeeDee’s accident, so one of DeeDee’s doctors asked Poole to do a renal evaluation.”
“But Poole’s CV had no mention of her connection to Idaho, and there was nothing in DeeDee’s chart showing Poole had been involved in the case.”
“That’s because her foster niece, Caroline Poole, was implicated in a drug theft scandal at that hospital about that time, and Phyllis Poole didn’t want her own reputation tainted by association. She managed to purge any reference to herself from DeeDee’s chart, and she eliminated any reference to Idaho or Dunnsville Memorial from her CV.”
“Wow, a falsified CV? If that comes out, she could lose her privileges at TMC.”
Nick smiled. “It won’t come out if Cleo has her way. She’s had a major change of heart about the lady doctor.”
“I said it before … what a soap opera.” Harry stood up with a stretch and a yawn. “It’s getting late. I need to get home and do a couple loads of laundry.”
“Since when do you care about laundry?”
“I’m way behind.” He gave us a salute and headed out the door.
Suspicious, I asked Nick if he’d arranged that so we would be alone.
“No, I swear. But just so you know, I’m not leaving you here by yourself tonight. You’ve had a few tough days.”
There was no fight left in me, so I poured each of us a glass of wine. I took Nick’s to him and started down the hall with mine.
“Where are you going?” Nick asked.
“I need a shower.”
“So do I.” He picked up his glass and followed me.
Chapter 39
Nick and I arrived for a special evening at Margie’s Bean Pot exactly one month after the stand-off at Phyllis Poole’s home. As we walked to our table, I was congratulated by several fellow employees who had heard about Beardsley’s retirement and my promotion.
We were just in time to hear Laurie Popejoy’s sublime version of the classic Etta James song, “At Last.” The entire restaurant was reserved for Timbergate Medical Center employees and guests, including Laurie Popejoy and her husband, Daniel Littletree, who sat at our table. The absence of Tobias Fausset and Phyllis Poole from the Code Blues combo seemed strange, but everyone knew why they weren’t on stage that night.
Rella sat next to Harry at our table, often leaning close to him and whispering. He wore an expression I couldn’t decipher, but I planned to interrogate him later. Cleo and her darling Siggy held hands like teenagers. Since Sig’s remarkably successful prostate surgery, Cleo had become Dr. Phyllis Poole’s biggest fan.
Keely O’Brien and Tucker sat at the table next to ours, along with James and Seamus. Much to the relief of his remaining heirs, the elder O’Brien had survived his ordeal with tick-borne infections. Cody’s horse had a new lease on life, too. Keely had always loved horses, and when she begged her father to keep Game Boy, Seamus agreed, on the condition that Keely stay clean and sober. It appeared to be working when she proudly announced she had just entered her first cutting horse competition. It seemed fitting that the horse that had witnessed Cody O’Brien’s death now had a chance to redeem Keely O’Brien’s life.
The O’Brien table was rounded out by Laurie Popejoy’s parents and her Aunt Brenda, former employee of the recently closed Dunnsville Memorial Hospital in Idaho. The owner, Dr. Carl Jasper, and his business partner, Jackie Poole, both fled to Ecuador when the FBI began investigating their hospital.
It turned out that Caroline Poole, alias Echo O’Brien, was the result of a fling Jasper had years earlier when he was a married father of several young children. Jackie knew the truth, and in return for keeping quiet and raising the girl as her foster daughter, she became a silent partner in the hospital and a co-conspirator in Jasper’s illegal schemes.
Amidst the applause for Laurie’s song were calls for an encore. She took the mic again and began singing “Sentimental Journey.” That’s when James stood and came to our table.
“Mr. Alexander, do you mind if I borrow Aimee for a dance?”
“Of course not,” Nick said. What else could he say?
James had flown out from New York two days earlier and had to catch a flight back the next morning. We hadn’t been in touch in the month since Echo and Weber’s plot unraveled.
We swayed to the gentle rhythm of Laurie’s song, and after a moment, James said, “Hey, Little Aimless, a penny for your thoughts.”
“Sorry, they’re not for sale.”
“Can’t blame me for asking, but there is something I need to know. I didn’t ask this before I left last month, so I’m asking now if that’s okay.”
My throat went a little dry, but I managed to answer, “Okay.”
“Then here goes.” He leaned close and spoke quietly in my ear. “Is Nick Alexander the right guy for you?”
In James’s arms, I was reminded of our steamy dances at Margie’s almost two months earlier when he had come back into my life. He still smelled like lemon meringue pie, and I still cherished the precious memories of my girlish crush. Laurie�
��s vocal treatment seemed to seep into my pores, and I wanted her song to go on and on, but it ended and the spell was broken. I gave James the only answer I could.
“You were the love of my life when I was a child, but I’m pretty sure Nick is the love of my grown-up life. It’s just that we still have things to work out.”
“Good enough, Little Aimless. Be happy, okay?”
James walked me back to Nick and returned to the O’Brien table, where he and his family were getting on with their lives, relieved to finally know why DeeDee and Cody had died.
The truth had finally come out. It had been Echo, back in her days as Caroline Poole, who was the pink-haired one-night stand Cody had brushed off in Idaho. Her revenge was to drug Cody’s wife. Simple to do, since Caroline was a nursing assistant with access to DeeDee’s room. A couple of months after DeeDee died, Caroline left Idaho and reinvented herself. She ended up dealing cards in Reno, where she met and married Cliff Weber.
Seamus O’Brien’s fate was sealed when he was in Reno for a Safari Club International convention. He enjoyed gambling, but made the mistake of flirting with Echo while he played blackjack. That’s when she and Weber cooked up their plan. Their long con would have worked once she got pregnant, even though the baby’s father was Weber, but they got nervous when Cody showed up injured and retired from rodeo. He thought Echo looked familiar—in spite of her nose job, different hair color, and cosmetic dentistry.
Echo figured it was just a matter time before Cody figured out who she was, and she was right. When she overheard Cody talking to Seamus about a paternity test, she and Weber decided Cody had to go. The rifle bullet missed, but the horseshoe club got the job done. Seamus would have been the third victim if Echo hadn’t been stopped in time.
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