Reagan's Redemption: Book Eight In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Cate Beauman

  “Keep an eye on the prices too. We’ve got five seats to book, so it wouldn’t hurt to check out a few of the different carriers.”

  “Got it.”

  “Nicely done,” Reagan complimented quietly.

  He clenched his jaw and rubbed at the back of his neck. “That sleeper hold was getting real tempting.”

  She smiled.

  He tossed out a humorless laugh. “You think I’m kidding.”

  She took his chin in her hand giving a gentle jiggle. “Of course you are.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against hers, unable to shake the edgy feeling turning his mood sour. “Okay, I am.”

  Kissing him, she laced her fingers at the back of his neck. “What’s wrong?”

  He shrugged.

  “You’ve been my rock. Let me be yours for a little while.”

  “I guess I’m just ready to get the hell out of here. I want to take you ladies home and put this behind us.”

  “Mmm.” She kissed him again. “That sounds good.” She brought her mouth to his for a third time. “We’ll be taking off before you know it.”

  There was a noise outside the door. Seconds later it opened, and Chase stepped in with his phone at his ear. “Yeah. I’m here now. I’ll call you back.” He hung up. “How’d it go?”

  “I’m proud to say we have two bouncing baby girls.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I’m lookin’ for our flights home.” Jenny grinned.

  Chase frowned, looking at Shane.

  “She’s quietly searching, Rider.”

  Chase smiled, nodding. “Do you have a minute?” He gestured toward the adjoining room.

  “Yeah.” He was anxious to find out how things had gone in The Gap.

  “Uh, do you mind if I join you?” Reagan asked.

  “No, come on in.” They walked into the next room, and Shane partially closed the door. “So what’s up?”

  “A few things. I got some unexpected news.”

  Shane’s shoulders tensed, trying to read Chase’s typically intense stare. “Oh yeah?”

  “Terry Staddler’s in the slammer.”

  He raised his brows in surprise. “No kidding?”

  “What for?” Reagan wanted to know.

  “Drug possession and attempt to distribute—methamphetamines. Apparently, he’s been in trouble a lot lately. This is his second arrest in just a few days.”

  Another problem to check off the list. “Hopefully the asshole will do a little time and leave Jenny and Faith alone. What else did you find out?”

  “Not a lot. The cops are still trying to figure out who tried to torch the cabin. They did a small perimeter search hoping to find something, but any footprints got lost in the underbrush, and there didn’t appear to be a whole lot of evidence left behind except for the shit they used to shatter the windows.”

  “Did anyone give you the plan from here on out?” He’d been so busy trying to get back into Reagan’s good graces and dealing with Jenny’s custody hearing he felt out of the loop.

  “Ethan’s been playing phone tag with whats-his-face in Washington. They finally touched base about an hour ago. The director wants a final inventory from Reagan by tomorrow evening at the latest. The police have been assigned to keep an eye on the property until movers come to pick up furnishings and equipment on Friday.”

  “I need to get back there today then.” Reagan started toward their room. “I should see if the director e-mailed me.”

  “Hold on just a minute. I picked up the mail.” Chase held up three opened envelopes. “I hope you don’t mind, Reagan, but I wanted to see what we had.”

  She came back to join them. “No, that’s fine.”

  “Did Ethan get a trace on whose been sending them?”

  “Not yet. He’s thinking the Mine Safety and Health Association links that came via e-mail and the stuff coming snail mail are probably from the same person, but so far the e-mail account appears to be a dummy and the postmarks are from Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, so there’s not much to go on there.”

  Shane walked over to the table reading the small rectangles Chase dumped out. There were no strips with one or two sentences this time, only names—names all three of them recognized.

  McPhee

  Pattell

  Jacobson

  Shane frowned. “What the hell is this?”

  Chase shook his head. “I don’t know. Ethan’s still trying to track down more information on the McPhee’s. He’s been working on it since you handed the stuff off yesterday—” Chase’s phone rang, and he looked at the screen. “This is him right here. Hello? Yeah.” He picked up a pen and squished the edge of a fast food bag flat. “No kidding.”

  Shane moved closer as Chase scribbled.

  Several mines. Conditions poor. Same doc. COPD.

  “I’m not sure,” Chase continued. “Okay. Let me call you back.” He hung up.

  Shane shoved his hands in his pockets, reading Chase’s writing again. “What’s up?”

  “After ‘a lot of fucking digging’—and that’s a direct quote—Ethan found out the McPhees have their hands in several small mining sites throughout Eastern Kentucky. Supposedly the health and safety conditions are as bad, if not worse, than Corpus Mining’s.”

  Reagan shook her head. “How is that not public information?”

  “It is if you look hard enough,” Chase replied. “Not long after Senior McPhee died, his boys got dirty. They use the name ‘Stygian Corporation’ as the front for the other eight locations, which are bought and sold regularly among a close group of other big-name families.”

  “To confuse ownership,” Reagan said.

  Shane nodded as it all started to make sense. “If the Mine Safety and Health Association is constantly trying to keep track of who owns what, it makes it nearly impossible to issue infractions and hold anyone criminally liable.”

  “Exactly,” Chase and Reagan said at the same time.

  “Crooked bastards.”

  “There’s more.” Chase tapped his notes. “Doctor Rosner, I’ll give you one guess as to who oversees the medical care for all nine mining operations.”

  “Doctor Hargus.”

  He winked, pointing at her as he clicked his tongue. “You’re good. After a bit of hacking, Ethan was able to find that any referrals Doctor Hargus makes for lung issues are sent to the one and only Doctor Jacobson.”

  “I’ll bet.” Her nostrils flared as she pressed her lips firm in disapproval.

  “The very few patients Doctor Hargus has referred over the past few years have initially been diagnosed with COPD, allergies, or pneumonia, which Doctor Jacobson backed up one hundred percent of the time.”

  “Which is why black lung doesn’t appear to exist in Eastern Kentucky.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “There are probably dozens upon dozens if not hundreds of undiagnosed cases.” She touched the three rectangles of paper on the table. “Doctor Schlibenburg was going to expose the whole thing, but someone found out about his plans.”

  “That would explain why he went into hiding,” Chase agreed.

  She swallowed. “And why he’s dead.”

  Shane glanced at the name of Corpus Mining’s first doctor. “I wonder what Pattell had to do with the whole thing? Why did Schlibenburg give him a mention? He’s been dead a long time.”

  “Doctor Patell died about a year after Senior McPhee,” Reagan said, picking up the paper.

  “About six months after Stygian was formed,” Chase added.

  Shane narrowed his eyes as he tried to keep all of the information from the last day straight. “And wasn’t that about the time Corpus Mining started having trouble with the Mine Safety and Health Association?”

  “I think so.” Chase opened his laptop, calling up the files they’d copied over from Reagan’s computer. “Yup. Their pretty safety records were starting to go to hell right around that time.”

  Reagan pulled out one o
f the chairs and sat. “By all accounts, Doctor Pattell was an amazing physician and family man. He must’ve known things weren’t quite right. What if he didn’t like what was going on?” She took Shane’s hand. “His wife insisted he didn’t kill himself. The librarian I spoke to said she couldn’t think of anyone who would want to harm him. He’d been the physician on record for years—a good family friend. No one would suspect the McPhees had anything to do with murder.”

  Shane exchanged a look with Chase, not liking where this was going. If their theories were correct, two doctors were dead, and the one sitting next to him knew as much as the deceased had.

  Reagan stood. “Shane, I think we need to talk to Detective Reedy.”

  He looked at Chase again, taking his phone out when Chase nodded. “Okay. I’ll give him a call.”

  “Are you going to head down to the clinic?” Chase wanted to know.

  Shane clenched his jaw as he met Reagan’s gaze. “I guess we have to.”

  “I’ll give Officer Swift a call and let him know you’ll be on your way.”

  He would feel better if he and Chase were handling this together, but this wouldn’t be the first time he’d worked with someone outside of Ethan Cooke Security to pull off a duty. “I appreciate it.”

  Chase dialed and walked toward the bathroom as Shane selected the detective’s number from his contacts.

  “Detective Reedy.”

  “Good afternoon, Detective, this is Shane Harper, security with The Appalachia Project.”

  “Hello, Mr. Harper. What can I do for you?”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ve stumbled on some new information we need to share with you.”

  “I’m in Berea right now. I can head down to the clinic—”

  “We’re actually staying in a hotel on the outskirts of Lexington. We had more issues last night.” He reached out, grabbing Reagan’s hand as she paced in front of him and pulled her down on his lap, wanting her to relax.

  “Oh.”

  “But Doctor Rosner and I are heading down to close up the clinic. We’re leaving for Los Angeles in the morning.” He looked at his watch. “We can meet you at three.”

  “I’ll be waiting.

  “We’re a good ninety minutes out depending on traffic.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll probably get there just before you. I’m giving Schlibenburg’s place another once over. I can’t find the damn films.”

  They had more than likely been destroyed. “We’ll see you in about an hour and a half.”

  “See you then.”

  He hung up.

  “What did he say?”

  “That he’ll meet us.”

  Reagan stood from his lap. “Let me get my laptop—”

  “Are you goin’ to The Gap?” Jenny asked from the doorway.

  “We won’t be long,” Reagan reassured. “I have to submit my inventory.”

  “And grab the few things I couldn’t fit in the Pajero,” Chase added as he headed back to join them. “Faith’s pack-n-play and a couple other things are still there.”

  “But I don’t want you to go.” Jenny stepped farther into the room, her eyes full of concern. “It’s not safe.”

  Reagan took her hands. “I have to give final pill counts to the director.”

  “But—”

  “You’ve done enough reading to know how much trouble I can get in if I can’t account for discrepancies with a controlled substance.”

  Jenny nodded.

  “Besides, Shane will be there, and Detective Reedy and another officer.” She kissed her cheek.

  “Officer Swift’s on duty until seven,” Chase confirmed. “He said everything’s been quiet and to come on down.”

  “See? We’ll be back long before seven.” Reagan hugged her.

  They didn’t have time for this. Shane wanted them to do what needed to be done and get back. “Did you find the flights?” he asked Jenny.

  She nodded.

  “Good. You and Chase can call Ethan and get us squared away.”

  “Okay,” she responded quietly, her eyes still unsure.

  “You do want to go to LA tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we need to get ready.” He pulled the keys from his pocket and gave his attention to Chase. “I’ll call when we get to The Gap and make contact with Officer Swift.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll hold down the fort around here. Jenny, Faith, and I are going to the post office to ship most of our stuff home.”

  He nodded. “We’ll be back soon. Make sure you give Chase a hand,” he said to Jenny, giving her a friendly nudge.

  “I will.”

  “I know you will. We’ll be back soon.” He took Reagan’s hand. “Come on. I want to be heading back before it gets dark.” He closed the door, ready to finish this and put Black Bear Gap, Kentucky behind them for good.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Shane hugged the curve and straightened out the wheel as they rolled into The Gap. He glanced at Henry and Daisy’s house and the beat-up pickup in the drive, then toward the boarded-up, derelict buildings that had shocked him once upon a time. They passed the gas station and mini-mart where the same group of men stood to the side of the door filling their lungs with smoke and their stomachs with endless cans of soda. He looked Reagan’s way as she sighed, staring out the window. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t believe this is the last time we’ll drive through here.”

  He frowned. “You sound sad.”

  “Kind of.” She met his gaze. “I really wanted to help these people. After Mable’s death I needed to do something good. I was going to make a difference and maybe make up—just a little—for being so incredibly wrong.”

  “Reagan—”

  She shook her head. “I was going to heal a community in need and maybe heal myself in the process.”

  He took his eyes off the road again, noting the hint of pain in hers, hating that she still blamed herself for a horrible tragedy everyone else had deemed an accident. “Mable’s death wasn’t your fault.”

  She expelled a long breath. “In some ways I understand that. I’m just saying,” she shook her head again, “I’m sure I’m not making any sense.”

  He knew the woman at his side well enough to understand that she saw her less-than-successful experience in The Gap as a failed penance. “I’m hoping someday you’ll be able to let yourself off the hook for something that was never your fault.” Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles. “And you did help these people—as much as they would let you.”

  “I wish I could’ve done more. There’s so much need here—heart disease, diabetes, black lung.”

  “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want it.” He pulled his hand from hers to turn on the dirt road, heading toward the cabin. “Who knows? Maybe someone in Washington will try something like this again.”

  “Probably not, but maybe.”

  “I guess we’ll have to see.” He pulled his cell phone free of his pocket. “I’m going to let Officer Swift know we’re here.” He selected the number Chase had sent him, waiting through one ring.

  “This is Officer Swift.”

  “Hey, this is Shane Harper with The Appalachia Project. I’m about four miles out.”

  “I’m just finishing up another perimeter search. I was telling Chase how everything’s been real quiet.”

  “That’s good to hear. Has Detective Reedy shown up yet?”

  “No. Other than Chase I haven’t seen anyone today.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He hung up.

  “Is Detective Reedy there?” Reagan asked.

  “Not yet,” he replied, dialing another number. Officer Swift said the day had been quiet, but he would feel better knowing Reedy would be there as well.

  “This is Detective Reedy.”

  “Hey, it’s Shane Harper.”

  “Hi, Shane. I’m about five, maybe ten minutes out.”

  “Great.” He glanced at the
dashboard clock, reducing his speed slightly to give the detective time to catch up. “We’re just ahead of you.”

  “I’ll see you shortly then.”

  “Sounds good.” He hung up. “Reedy’s about ten minutes out.”

  “I probably won’t need much more than that in the clinic.” She tucked her leg under her right in the seat. “I haven’t prescribed pills since the last time I did my counts, so it’s really just about double-checking and giving the more expensive equipment a once over, which you can do if you want.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I’d like to get this finished up fairly quickly so we can be out of here before sunset.” He looked toward the sun already sinking along the horizon.

  “Why don’t I help you with the stuff in the cabin, then we’ll go over to the clinic.”

  “Sounds like we have a plan.” He slowed further as he pulled into the driveway, glancing toward the Kentucky State Police cruiser parked in between the clinic and the cabin. He returned Officer Swift’s wave and scanned the area despite the trooper’s assurances that all was well. Satisfied after his own assessment, he sent off a quick text to Chase.

  We’re here. Place looks secure. I’ll let you know when we’re heading out.

  Putting his phone away, he smiled at Reagan. “Ready?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He slid his forearm against his gun before he opened his door, got out, and went around to Reagan’s side. “Let’s do this.”

  She nodded, and they made their way to the cabin, unlocking the door and letting themselves in.

  “PU.” Reagan wrinkled her nose, stepping further into the smoky stench of the common area.

  Shane stared at the boarded-up windows, soot-covered walls, and charred, tattered remains of the curtains, realizing just how close he and Chase had come to losing control of the fire. He took the first couple of steps up to the loft and walked down the hall, doing a visual sweep of each room, making certain he and Reagan were the only ones inside.

  “Wow, Chase did a great job,” she called as she moved his way, joining him outside of Jenny and Faith’s room. “There’s hardly anything left.”