by Midge Bubany
“A friend at this point but after hearing your story I’ll keep an open mind.”
“Have fun and we’ll see you soon,” Shannon said.
We embraced, then as Angel pulled out of the driveway, Brittany said, “I really like her. It’s if I’ve always known her. We stayed up talking until one o’clock last night. Now, I better hop in the shower before the boys wake up.”
She left us alone.
“The girls connected, I guess,” I said.
“They are about the same age.”
“And they know you’re pregnant. We could hear you barf.”
“I figured as much.”
“Call me after your doctor’s appointment. What time is it?” I said.
“Ten thirty.”
After the squad meeting, Troy called a case meeting in the conference room. His uniform looked big on him and under the florescent lighting I noticed his color was off. I needed this guy healthy and working.
He asked me to recap what I had at this point. After I was finished, Sheriff Clinton said, “So Sawyer Gage is all you’ve got after all this time, with no evidence he killed her. You know what I think? You need to stop concentrating on the alleged rape a year before her murder, and focus on what happened around the time of her killing.”
Troy said, “The problem is it was fifteen years ago. People don’t remember shit after that long. Hell, they don’t remember what they saw minutes before,” he said.
“Do you want to throw in the towel, Troy? Because if you do, tell me now and I’ll replace you both,” Patrice said.
He sat back and scowled.
“Now what’s next?” she said.
I said, “We need to talk to Sawyer’s date about the night Silver went missing.”
“Damn it! You haven’t done that yet?” Patrice said.
“Give him a break. He’s had to handle everything himself,” Troy said.
“We can’t bungle this investigation! It’s top priority. You check everyone’s story and then you recheck! And you come in early and stay late until this case is solved. You hear me?”
She got up and pointed at Troy. “Not you. I don’t want you in the hospital again,” she said and walked out.
Troy said, “What a bitch.”
“Would you say that if Jack or Ralph had said the same thing to us?” I said.
“Oh, don’t get all PC on me. I was trying to cover your ass.”
“I don’t need you to cover my ass.”
“All right, no more ass-covering. Jesus Christ, Sheehan. Give me a break. I’m trying here. See, I think you’re pissed I’m with Adriana.”
I looked at him, rolled my eyes and said, “I don’t care what either of you do in your personal lives. Now can we concentrate on the Dawson case? And you can supervise Tamika.”
He gazed at me skeptically and said, “Right . . . so who was Sawyer Gage’s date the night the Dawson girl disappeared?”
I paged through my notes. “Heather Baumgardner.”
We moved to our office. Without much effort, I found her brother, Ron, who still lived in town. He said her last name was now Peters and she lived in Woodbury.
Heather remembered she’d had a date with Sawyer Gage the night Silver Rae had disappeared; they’d gone to a movie. She was home before midnight. Which meant Sawyer’s only alibi was his parents.
Troy said, “Listen to this.”
He punched the speaker on his cell phone. It was Adriana’s voice.
“Troy, someone threw silver paint all over my car while it was parked in the back lot at work. Anyway, Tamika is here with me. She said she was handling my case now? Is that right? I’m not sure I want the second string working on this. Oh, and I have that appointment I need to get to and can’t drive my car now. Call me.”
Troy phoned Adriana and told her he was on his way to take her to her appointment.
“You’re gonna have to supervise Tamika on this one,” he said.
Can I not cut this woman loose?
The Warner and Associates building backed up to the Birch River. We drove around to the back parking lot. It was isolated so it was unlikely there would be witnesses. We parked and walked over to Tamika, who was standing alongside the red BMW convertible, now completely covered in silver. Unfortunately, Adriana had left the top down.
“Oh, man, what a shitty thing to do to a nice car like this,” I said.
“It’s bad,” Tamika said.
“Yeah, she’s pretty upset,” Troy added.
Adriana walked out of the building and over to us.
“How much time before your appointment?” Troy asked.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll get your statement later,” he said.
“I already got it,” Tamika said.
“Oh . . . good,” Troy said.
“When did you notice this, Adriana?” I asked.
“It obviously happened shortly after I arrived at 7:45, because Janice, my secretary, told me about it when she came in at eight. I tried to call both your cell phones, couldn’t reach either one of you so I called 911.”
I said, “Like you should anyway.”
She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and looked to Troy.
“I assume it’s the same individual,” he said.
“I’m sure,” she said. “My mailbox was painted silver last night. I didn’t bother you.”
“Did you take photos?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ll send them to Troy, or do I send them to Tamika?”
“Me,” Tamika said.
I said, “I’ll help Tamika take the photos here so you can be on your way.”
“I already took fifty of them,” Tamika said.
I nodded. “Where do you want it towed?”
“To the old police garage,” Troy said.
We used the old PFPD garage for cars that had been in crashes.
“I already called them,” Tamika said.
At that moment Shannon texted me: “R u busy?”
Me: “Why?”
Shannon: “Want to come to my appt?”
Me: “Where?”
Shannon: “Riverside Clinic in 15 m.”
Me: “I’ll be there”
Troy and Adriana had gotten in the Buick and were driving off.
“Mm mm mm,” Tamika said. Her eyes followed the Buick out of the lot.
“What?”
“I was just thinking how you and Shannon belong together, you know? I’m not so sure about those two.”
I nodded. “Tamika, could you finish up and wait for the tow truck? I have an appointment.”
“I planned on it. You think this is too difficult for me to handle?”
“Of course not.”
When I got to the clinic waiting room, the first person I saw was Adriana—the second was Troy. They looked as surprised to see me as I was to see them. So, she had a doctor appointment too. What a coincidence. What for?
I spotted Shannon sitting in the corner as far away from them as she could be. I murmured a hello and a fancy-meeting-you-here to Adriana and Troy, then strode across the room and took a seat beside Shannon. She turned and smiled at me. I took her hand.
“Did you see Adriana and Troy over there?” I asked.
“How could I miss them?”
“Wonder why she’s here.”
“None of our business, eh?”
I then told her about silver paint poured all over her BMW.
“Good Lord, someone is out to get that woman. If it’s Victoria, what on earth would her motive be?”
“She’s a sociopath, she doesn’t need much. The fact that Adriana left her daddy would be enough.”
Shannon was pagin
g through a magazine so I looked at the photos of the doctors on the wall. This clinic had three family practitioners, two pediatricians, two gynecologist/obstetricians, a cardiologist, and a podiatrist.
Adriana had the beginnings of bunions; maybe she was seeing the podiatrist. That’s what she got for wearing those stilts for shoes.
“Which doctor are you seeing?” I asked.
“Kline.”
“He was Silver Rae Dawson’s doctor fifteen years ago. You think he’s good looking?”
“Very. He was my OB for the two boys. I was lucky to get this appointment.”
“Why? Because he’s handsome, or a good doctor?”
“Everyone says he’s the best OB in town.”
I nodded my approval.
The receptionist called Shannon and Adriana up to the desk and handed them each a clipboard. They smiled politely at each other.
I looked over Shannon’s shoulder as she began to fill out the lengthy form.
“Wait. Six alcoholic beverages in a week? Seriously? You must have—”
She pulled the clipboard to her chest. “Cal . . . I got it.”
“I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Play your games on your phone.”
So, I played Battleship. She made me turn off the sound, which took away part of the fun. When Adriana was called in first, Troy stayed in the lobby. I was thinking I should also stay in the lobby to look at all the big bellies and sick people and play games on my phone, but when the nurse called Shannon’s name, she grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s go.” I gave Troy a thumbs-up as I passed by.
The nurse’s ID tag said Lola Wells, LPN. Lola asked Shannon to step on the scale. She stripped off her jacket and shucked her shoes.
“I’ve lost some weight,” Shannon said as Lola adjusted the weights on the scale.
“Maybe it’s the shoes,” I said.
She fired me a dirty look and said, “I always take them off.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
Lola and Shannon rolled their eyes conspiratorially, then Lola took Shannon’s height. We were then shown to a room. Once inside I asked Lola, “Does Lola always get what she wants?”
The women looked at me like I’d spoken in a foreign language. Obviously neither got my joke, so I had to explain.
“I lived with old people who preferred songs released before 1970. There’s an old song that goes: ‘Whatever Lola wants . . . Lola gets.’ That’s all I know.”
“Never heard of it,” Lola said and ignored me while she went about the business of taking Shannon’s blood pressure and temperature, asking her the same questions that were on the form, and then typing her answers on the computer. Next, she instructed Shannon to strip and put on the gown, then left the room.
“I’m enjoying this,” I said as I watched her disrobe.
“So happy for you,” Shannon said.
“You sound insincere, sweetheart. Hey, I think your girls are larger,” I said.
“They are feeling lumpy and tingly,” she whispered.
“Mmm, tingly.”
“Shut up, someone might hear you.” She covered herself with a small sheet and sat on the edge of the examining table. “I’m beginning to think it was a mistake having you come.”
“Don’t kick me out. I’ll be good. You won’t even know I’m here.”
There was a knock at the door and Dr. Joris Kline burst in. I was the first person he saw, and I could see in his eyes he was trying to place me.
“Cal Sheehan,” I said, extending my hand.
He shook my hand and said, “Oh, sure, you’re the detective who questioned me about Silver Rae Dawson.”
I nodded.
He then moved to Shannon to shake her hands. “Shannon, nice to see you again. So, you think you may be pregnant?”
“We just got married,” I interjected.
Kline glanced back at me and said, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Shannon said, “Anyway, I used two different over-the-counter tests and they were both positive. Plus, I have morning sickness.”
“The tests are pretty accurate. When did you go off the pill?”
“Um, end of May.”
He looked over her information, asked some of the same questions the nurse had, then proceeded to examine her from head to toe. He requested she put her feet in the stirrups. I was fascinated. I always wondered how this worked.
He picked up an instrument resembling our wine opener (without the corkscrew) and inserted it inside. By the look on her face, I’d say she didn’t particularly enjoy it—plus the guy took his time. I wanted to ask if I could take a look but was certain Shannon would kick me in the head. He removed it, then inserted two fingers inside, then palpated her abdomen. Why didn’t I think of this job?
After the exam, he said, “You can dress. I’ll come back in a few minutes to talk with you.”
When he shut the door she said, “He didn’t say anything. Does he think something’s wrong?”
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
She dressed and sat in the chair next to me. I leaned over and kissed her. “Want to have a quickie?”
“Good God.”
“I take that as a no. Then how about some lunch after?” I asked.
“I’m not very hungry.”
Dr. Kline knocked on the door and entered.
“Why knock? It’s not like you’d be shocked to see ladies naked, or anything.”
Shannon elbowed me.
He smiled. “It’s something they taught us to do as interns.”
Kline sat down on the chair at the little desk and said, “Shannon, you’re showing the classic signs of pregnancy: your cervix is darkened, and your uterus is enlarged. In fact, your uterus is larger than indicated by the timing of your last period, so I’m going to order an ultrasound today.”
“What could this mean? She’s farther along than we thought?” I asked.
“Oh, my last period was slight, maybe I was already pregnant then.”
“We’ll know when we see the pictures. I’m going to have you visit the lab, then go on down the hall to x-ray,” he said. “Cal, it might be a little while. You could grab a coffee at the cafeteria while you wait.”
I picked up a coffee then returned to the lobby. I sat near a matronly woman reading a magazine and a dad reading a book to two small children, both of whom were coughing. I changed seats. After forty-five minutes of Battleship and Solitaire, I was starting to get bored. Then Shannon walked out. Nice timing.
“Ready?” she asked.
“You’re done?” I asked. “I thought we’d meet with the doctor again.”
“I already did.”
“Did you forget me on purpose?”
“I think you may have made Dr. Kline uncomfortable.”
“Why would that be?”
We walked to the elevator without talking. Something’s wrong. Maybe she had something else in there beside a baby. A tumor?
When the elevator doors shut, I asked. “What’s going on?”
She turned and looked at me. “There are two.”
“Two?”
“We’re having twins,” she said.
“Twins? Wow. When I knock you up, I knock you up.”
She handed me four small pictures of black shrimp.
“These are the Twinkies?”
“Twinkies?”
I shrugged. “Come two in a pack.”
She laughed.
“They look just like me, don’t you think?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Do we know the sex yet?”
“We won’t know until sixteen weeks.”
/> “How far along are we?”
“According to the ultrasound, ten weeks.”
“Ten? Yowzer, that was too easy. So when do we tell people what a good producer I am?”
“I wanted to wait until I’m fourteen weeks, but I may tell my parents.”
“Gonna be hard to keep it a secret,” I said.
She put her hand on her belly. “I’m not showing yet, am I?”
“No, no. It’s just that it’s so cool. Wow, twins. Oh, boy.” I did an arm pump.
“The boys are going to be thrilled. So, do you think Adriana is pregnant too?” she asked.
I hiked up my shoulders.
“I kind of hope so,” she said.
“I bet it’s not with twins,” I said.
“Do you think Troy is the father?”
“Jesus . . . Troy . . . a father?”
Twins. Holy shit kabob!
Chapter 27
I insisted on stopping for sandwiches to celebrate the Twinkies before we went back to work. I ate mine, plus the half Shannon couldn’t.
“I’m eating for three, now,” I said.
“Your ability to eat anything you want pisses me off.”
“Hey, hey, get up and run with me in the morning. Puke and carry on.”
“You better be kidding.”
“I am.” I patted her hand.
When I got back to the office, Tamika was sitting at the extra desk with paperwork spread out before her. She’d placed her family picture and a vase of flowers on the desk making it her space. The flowers reminded me to ask her what she’d learned about the bouquets she was supposed to check on.
“Nothing,” she said. “I haven’t had time, and Crosby said he’s busy with Patrice’s stuff today,”
“Make time.”
“Before or after I finish checking out all the hotels and resorts in the county for Victoria?”
“Oh, yeah, finish that first.”
“Just so you know—I’m working as fast as I can. I want to nail Snow White’s evil ass to the wall as much as you do . . . if it’s her who’s doing all these nasty things to Adriana, that is.”
“There’s that,” I said.