by Cate Beauman
“I see you’ve had more trouble since the last time I was here.”
“Yes. The Gap is eager for my departure.”
“And why would that be?”
“Black lung isn’t a popular diagnosis. It’s even more reprehensible when specialists disagree with your findings and patient’s jobs and retirement are put in jeopardy.”
“Sounds like a volatile situation.”
“It’s certainly controversial.” She unlocked the door and they went inside. “So, there are different types of film,” she said as she walked toward the small area she used for x-ray. “But I chose the green tinge for finer detail. The images you’re looking for are on this.” She pulled a square of film free and held it up. “I brought them in a box just like this. I wrote Black Bear Gap right here along the top.”
“Would it be possible for me to take one of these?”
“Sure.” She handed it over.
“This has been very helpful.”
“Good.”
“I’m hoping this might help us make some progress with the doctor’s case—maybe explore some new angles and generate some new leads.”
“I hope so.”
“His daughter calls every day hoping for answers, but we’ve hit a dead end, if I’m being honest.”
She struggled with a wave of guilt, knowing she hadn’t been completely straight with the detective since the beginning. Poor Effie Schlibenburg had to be beside herself. Pressing her lips together, she met Shane’s eyes. “Um, Detective, if I could just have a minute with Shane.”
“Certainly.”
She gestured with her head for Shane to step over to the corner with her.
Shane followed, crossing his arms as he stood in front of her. “What’s up?”
“You’re staying here in The Gap?” she asked him yet again.
His brow furrowed slightly. “I’m staying right here with you and the girls.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Reagan.”
“You’re sure because I—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He took her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”
As he held her hand in his and she stared into his eyes, she did. Sighing, she nodded and stepped back to where the detective waited. “Detective, if you have another minute, I’ve thought of something I should bring to your attention.”
“Okay.”
She was taking a risk here. She couldn’t give the detective the strips of paper, but she could give him something now that she was absolutely certain Shane would stay. She was trusting her instincts that this was the right decision. “I’m not certain, but on my drive home from Doctor Schlibenburg’s, I think I might’ve been followed.”
“What?” Shane said as Detective Reedy said, “Oh?”
“I, um, I never mentioned it, because as I said I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
“Why don’t you tell me about it anyway?” He grabbed his small notebook from his back pocket. “Sometimes the smallest of details leads to the break we’re looking for.”
She hoped he was right. “Sure.” She narrowed her eyes, struggling to recall the vehicle that had been traveling behind her. “I know it was black.”
The detective wrote in his notepad.
“Make or model?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I remember it being a mid-sized car and in good condition. It might’ve been a Ford.”
“Was the driver male or female?”
She thought of the man with the leather jacket. “Male.”
Detective Reedy paused with his pen against paper. “You sound fairly definitive.”
She nodded. “I’ve wondered if the driver might have been the man I saw at the mall and again at the hotel the girls and I stayed at in Lexington a few weeks ago.”
“Jesus, Reagan. Are you kidding me?” Shane said as he jammed his hands in his pockets.
“A man followed you in Lexington?” Detective Reedy asked. “Can you describe him?”
She looked at the detective, avoiding Shane’s scathing stare. “Mmm, mid-forties. Tall. Thin build. Brown hair.” She frowned. “Maybe hazel eyes and a brown leather jacket. I haven’t seen him since, so it is possible the car and the man are just random coincidences.”
“I wish you would have spoken up sooner, Doctor Rosner.”
“No kidding,” Shane muttered.
“I’m afraid the situation here in The Gap has forced me to think of two girl’s safety above everything else.”
“The police are here to help, Doctor Rosner.”
Keeping her mouth closed had seemed the safer of the two options. “Yes,” she said, looking through the open door toward the trees, certain someone watched.
“If you remember anything else, please let me know right away.”
“I will.”
They stepped back outside just as Jenny opened the cabin door with Faith crying in her arms. “Reagan, when you have a minute I need you.”
“Go ahead, Doctor Rosner.”
“Thank you.” She met Shane’s hard stare and turned toward the house. Shane didn’t have to like the choices she’d made; he just had to live with them.
~~~~
Shane waited for the door to close behind Reagan and looked at the detective as the man pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped his nose. “Why are you so interested in the x-rays?”
“I’m trying to piece together the victim’s last day.”
“You’ve got a dead doctor on your hands who hadn’t practiced medicine in over five years, and you’re worrying about some other physician’s films? That doesn’t make much sense unless you think those x-rays have something to do with his death.”
The detective didn’t respond.
“You can be straight with me, Detective, or I’ll go around you.”
The detective’s eyes sharpened on his. “And why would you want to do that?”
“Because of that.” He pointed to the trashed clinic. “And because ever since Reagan started diagnosing black lung things have gone to hell around here.”
“Mr. Harper, this is an official investigation.”
“And the people in that house are my family. I’m not a fucking rent-a-cop. I was a US Marshall for six years. I know how the game works, so you can tell me what you have, or I’ll go back inside, make a few calls, and find out in less than twenty minutes.”
Detective Reedy held his gaze. “I’ve wondered if Doctor Rosner’s sudden interest in black lung had something to do with Schlibenburg’s death. The man lived off the grid for more than five years with little trouble—or so we believe. After speaking with several of his former colleagues I find it funny that a once warm, kind man with a large social circle moved out to the middle of nowhere, lived with a dozen locks on his doors and just as many motion sensors on his windows, and was more or less a recluse. Something tipped the scales for his unexpected retirement. Something tipped them further, and now he’s dead.”
“And you think that was Reagan.”
“I can’t find the films or any evidence of that paper Doctor Rosner has made mention of. I’ve checked safety deposit boxes and his home safe. There were thousands of dollars but no papers.” He shook his head. “Maybe it doesn’t exist.”
Shane said nothing of the dozen or so strips of paper in Reagan’s room. He and Doc were going to have a long conversation about just what in the hell was going on around here.
“At this point, I know Doctor Rosner made contact, apparently was more than likely followed home, and Schlibenburg was found dead a few hours later.”
“How’d they do him?”
“The medical examiner says the shove down the stairs should’ve finished him, but when that didn’t appear to take care of it the large statue dropped on his head did.”
“So why isn’t Reagan a suspect? For all intents and purpose, she was the last person to see him alive.”
�
�The statue weighed more than seventy-five pounds and was in another room. Doctor Rosner appears to be in shape, but I find it hard to believe she picked up a marble figurine, lifted it six feet in the air, and let it fall.”
He winced. “Jesus.”
“It was gruesome. One of the worst scenes I’ve worked.”
“I want to be kept informed. My partner and I need to know what’s going on.” Reagan sure as hell wasn’t keeping them in the loop.
The detective nodded. “I’ll keep in touch.”
“I appreciate it.” He started toward the house, scanning the woods as he stepped inside and walked down the hall where Jenny and Reagan sat on Jenny’s bed while Faith lay on the covers, diaperless and crying.
“It looks like a little bit of a rash. We’ll put this cream on her bottom and see how she looks at her next changing.”
The clinic line rang in Reagan’s room.
“I’ll be right back.” She moved into her bedroom.
“What’s wrong with Faith?” Shane asked Jenny from the door.
“She’s got a diaper rash. It’s okay, baby girl,” Jenny soothed as she spread white goop all over Faith’s butt.
“Oh.” He kept going, stopping in Reagan’s doorway.
“Leave me alone.” She slammed down the phone.
He stepped inside. “Who was that?”
“Wrong number.”
He steamed out a breath through his nose, hating that she wouldn’t talk to him. “Cut the shit, Reagan. I need to know what’s going on around here—all of it.” He closed her door. “This is the second time I’ve heard about these mystery calls.”
She frowned. “Second time?”
“Chase heard you tell someone to leave you alone the other night, and now I have.”
She licked her lips. “Someone’s harassing me.”
He leaned against the wall, trying his best to keep his calm. “What do they say?”
She pressed her lips together. “It started out as hang ups, then the classic heavy breathing, then it turned into ‘go away, you’re not wanted here’ or sentiments along those lines.” She gripped her hands together, her knuckles turning white.
“What else?”
She started pacing.
He stood straight again, growing more frustrated with the woman who continued to evade him. “What else, Reagan?”
“They threatened my life.”
“Goddamn. Why the hell didn’t you say something? You’re getting death threats—”
“Lower your voice,” she demanded, pointing to Jenny’s bedroom wall.
“Fine,” he hissed. “You didn’t think death threats were worth a mention?” He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “Damn, Reagan, I thought you were supposed to be a genius.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she spat back in a nasty whisper. “I’ve done what I’ve done for the girls.”
“For the girls?” He moved closer to her, fighting the urge to shout. “You can’t help them or take them anywhere if you’re dead.”
She stared him down, glaring. “It’s not that simple. It’s not black and white.”
“So explain it.”
She advanced, and they stood almost toe-to-toe. “There’s a lot going on—”
“Yeah, you’re racking up quite a list.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she tossed back.
“Sick babies, mysterious letters, being followed, hang-up calls, death threats, cremated patients, and a dead girl in New York.” He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, but his anger fueled him on. “Did I miss anything, or does that cover everything you’re handling on your own?”
“Wow.” She whirled away. “You’re really something,” she said turning back to face him. “You leave for a month and walk back in here expecting everything to be the way you left it. Well it’s not. Not even close.”
“Chase has been right down the hall. If you didn’t want to tell him you could’ve picked up the phone.”
“So could you! So could you, Shane,” she lowered her voice again.
“I did. I called you, and you lied.”
“What did you want me to say?”
“The truth, goddammit. I wanted the truth.”
“You want everything? You want it all? Fine. I missed you and needed you, but you weren’t here. Faith was sick, and I was scared to death.” Her breathing grew unsteady. “Black lung and the mysterious letters are the reason Doctor Schlibenburg is dead. Someone murdered him because he was unfortunate enough to answer my call. I probably am being followed, which is why I’m a damn prisoner in this house. I don’t go out without Chase. If I head over to the clinic, I make sure I’m home before nightfall. The hang-up calls terrify me. The knocks against my windows at night make me sick. Henry was cremated to cover up one hell of a conspiracy, which appears to get bigger by the day. Corpus Mining—they’re dirty. They’re one of the key players in this whole thing. I don’t have anything definitive to prove it other than the insanely horrible safety records I have saved on my computer, but I know. Terry threatened to take Faith and make things hard for Jenny if I don’t watch my step. The director’s been breathing down my neck since the moment you left, making it nearly impossible for me to say anything about any of this or risk losing the girls’ protection. And Mable Totton’s dead because I made mistakes. A seven-year-old child died because I was careless. Is that what you wanted? Do you feel better now that you’ve got all the facts straight?” Her lips trembled as tears poured down her cheeks.
He didn’t. He didn’t feel better at all. “Reagan, I’m sorry.”
“Does it really matter? Does it change anything? God.” She turned away, pressing her hand to her forehead.
“I’m sorry.” He turned her back to face him. “I had no idea you were dealing with all of this.”
She shrugged. “How could you if I didn’t say anything?”
He pulled her against him, wrapping her arms around him, and she stayed, holding on just as tight, then just as quickly pushed away. “We’re not doing this. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”
“Reagan—”
“No.”
They had a mess to clean up, but safety had to come first. “From now on I answer the clinic line.”
“For the most part the calls come at night unless I’m in the office—and then of course just right now.”
“So I’ll stay in here.”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“You’re welcome to sleep in my room, but I’m answering that damn phone, and I’ll be intercepting any future knocks on your windows and dealing with Terry if there are any further issues. I’m going to talk to Chase, and we’re going to talk to Ethan.”
She huffed out a breath.
“Ethan’s not the villain here, Reagan. He has obligations as well. He understands that I’m staying one way or the other. Furthermore, he can help us, so if there’s anything you’ve left out I want it now, because I’m going to have him get started on this right away.”
“The McPhee family has more companies. Corpus Mining isn’t their only family-run operation. I don’t even know what else they do. I haven’t had a chance to look into it, but Doctor Schlibenburg made reference.” She walked to the small stack of white slips. “Here.” She handed over one and he read.
…Corpus Mining, among the other companies under the McPhee family umbrella.
“And I think the doctor that used to work for the mine—I think whoever killed Doctor Schlibenburg killed him too.”
This just kept getting better and better. “I’ll take care of it. From this point forward, you don’t go to the clinic without Chase or me.”
“I—”
“I’m not arguing about this. These are the security measures we’re taking until we can get the hell out of here.”
She sat down at her desk, pressing her fingers to her temple.
He crouched down in front of her. “I wish I had known. I’m sorry I left when you ne
eded me most.”
Her eyes softened. “It’s over now.”
“No it’s not.” He took her hands, well aware they were talking about two different things, but he wasn’t going to let this go. “It’s far from it.”
“Shane, I can’t—”
He’d be damned if she was going to walk away. “Have dinner with me,” he said abruptly as an idea started taking shape. “Go out on a date with me.”
She laughed incredulously. “Shane, did you hear what I just said? All of the problems I just listed off to you?”
“I heard you and we’re going to take care of them. I’m going to talk to Ethan and Chase in a minute and we’re going to figure it out, but nothing’s getting solved tonight.”
She shook her head. “I think we both know this isn’t a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
“What we had has come and gone.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I’m not so sure you do either.”
“I have to; besides, we can’t leave Chase and the girls.”
“So have dinner with me right here—just dinner, Reagan. We need to talk.”
She nibbled her lip. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll take care of everything.”
“Shane—”
“Meet me at the table at seven.” He brought her hands up to his mouth, pressing her knuckles to his lips. “We’re not finished, Reagan.” He kissed her knuckles again, holding his breath, waiting for her to refuse.
She sighed. “What would I wear?”
“Maybe a dress.” He smiled. “We’ll have fun.”
“Fine. One dinner.”
“You won’t be sorry.” He kissed her knuckles again and stood. “I have some work to do. I’ll see you at seven.” He left her room, looking at his watch, wanting to hand off the white slips to Ethan and Chase for one night. Tomorrow he would focus on murder and conspiracies, but for now he had less than four hours to pull together the most important evening of his life.
~~~~
“The detective was back again. He left with a box like the one I got rid of.”
He sighed in his ear. “It’s time to finish this.”
“There are two now—two guards.”