by Anne Hagan
“Why separate them?”
“Pardon?”
“Why only take women on a Thanksgiving retreat?”
“The answer to that question would take more time than either you or I have, I’m quite sure.” He punctuated the statement with a quick nod of his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
A woman and a couple of kids were washing a muddy church van at the other end of the parking lot. As she approached them, she overhead one of the boys complaining, “I didn’t get to go to the camp, why should I have to wash the van?”
The woman started to respond when Mel cleared her throat and made her presence known. “Hi there!”
“Officer,” the woman greeted her with a nod of her head as she continued to wring out a soapy sponge.
“I heard a group of you just got back from camp. How was it?”
“Mom got to go, we didn’t,” the boy who had been complaining said, before his mother could answer.
“The good lord does not like complaints,” she told him. “You’ve been to the camp. You’ll get your chance again.”
Mel looked at the boy. “Pretty cool place, huh?”
“The best! There’s a lake and canoes and rock climbing and…”
His mother interrupted. “She gets it. You need to get a move on. The longer you stand here going on, the longer it’s going to take to get this clean. Why don’t you take the hose and go around and spray the other side?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you be careful with the spray. Don’t get yourself or your brother wet. There’s a chill out here. I don’t need the two of you sick for Thanksgiving.”
Mel smiled at the boy before he turned and slunk off to do as he was told.
“He is a good kid…most of the time,” the woman whispered.
“I didn’t mean to be a bother,” Mel said. “I was just curious about the retreat and the camp itself. Pastor Raison told me about the retreat, but he was short of time, so he couldn’t tell me much about the camp.” She hated to lie, but she needed information and she wasn’t so sure she was going to get it by being direct. The pastor certainly hadn’t been honest with her.
“It’s a pretty basic place really. A big dining hall that doubles as meeting space, a dozen cabins maybe and shower houses…the lake like J.J. said.”
“What lake is it on?”
“Off of Brady Lake.”
Mel shook her head. “Never heard of that one.”
“It’s just a little lake, just south of Lake Rockwell, northeast of here, maybe a half hour drive.”
“Ah. Okay. I’m familiar with Rockwell. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you get back to work now. Thanks again!”
Chapter 15 - Caretaker
Mel followed her GPS along to the camp. She had a feeling Jennifer’s leaving that morning might have coincided with the spiriting away of her mother or maybe even that Sheila was still holed up at the camp. Either way, she wanted to get a look at the place for herself.
When she got there, she found the gate open, so she plunged ahead. She was glad she had driven her pickup and not her County SUV. The dirt entry road was a muddy mess. Must have rained hard up here. The garage guys would pitch a fit.
She drove carefully down the track that was barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass until the lake came into view again. She’d seen glimpses of it from the main road, but the camp was set in a copse of woods that appeared to be a couple of acres deep.
The road stopped at the building labeled ‘lodge hall’. She parked up close to the entry, since there were no other vehicles in sight, and got out. The building was dark. She tried the door. No luck.
Back out from under the portico, she looked around. As young J.J.’s mother had said, it was pretty basic. She counted half a dozen cabins within a stones throw from where she stood, and a few more visible through the trees just beyond those. The shower houses were separated by a good acre of distance from each other and clearly marked.
She walked to the closest cabin and tried the front door. Unlike the lodge door, It opened easily. Inside, the accommodations were nicer than she had suspected they might be, but all laid out in one open room, four double bunk beds, two to either side, wall lockers along the back wall and a table with long bench seats in the center. It’s nicer than 4H Camp was, anyway. She pulled the door closed and went on to the next cabin and the next and the next. They were identical in layout and furnishings.
As she turned away from the fifth cabin positioned within an easy walk to the lodge hall, a sound caught her attention. A boat motor.
Out on the lake, a bass boat was chugging toward the dock a hundred yards away, a man at the tiller, steering. She started toward the dock.
He called out, “Nobody is supposed to be over here! The camp is closed.”
“I’m Sheriff Crane,” she called back to the thin man with graying hair as she walked toward the pier, “from Muskingum County.”
He pulled alongside the dock and stopped to tie off.
“Muskingum? You’ve got no jurisdiction here.”
“Right you are. And you are?”
“I’m the caretaker.” He pointed to the church logo on his jacket. Underneath was stitched the word, ‘caretaker’.
She’d meant his actual name, but his title would do. “Well Caretaker, I’m after an escaped convict, a fugitive from justice, and I have reason to believe she might be on the grounds here.”
“Not here. There was a church group in here until this morning. All gone now. All women. Least they leave less of a mess than the men and kids do. I just finished running their trash over to the other side of the lake. It’s easier in the boat.”
“Isn’t it cold out there on the water in November?”
“Nah, I’m used to it. Job doesn’t pay much, but I get a cabin and all the fishing I want. I take advantage. Was going to throw a line in before I spotted your truck over here.”
She jerked a finger over her shoulder. “You stay in one of those?”
He shook his head. “Mine’s a lot nicer. Kitchen. Its own bathroom. This used to be a full-time church base. It was the pastor’s cabin.”
“Benson Raison’s?”
The caretaker pulled a face. “Before him. He’s too good to stay out here. He gets a hotel whenever he does have to come out here.”
Mel shifted the conversation. “You know all the rest of these are unlocked, right? If my fugitive is here, she could be holed up in any one of them.”
“I ain’t never had a problem other than critters because someone didn’t close a door all the way. Nothing inside any of ‘em except mine that’d be worth taking.”
“Mind if I take a look in all the others, satisfy my curiosity?”
“Go right ahead; suit yourself. Just make sure you close those doors.”
Chapter 16 - Stealth
Meanwhile…
Back in Nashville
Dana waited until the old clerk walked out of the file room to take her lunch break. Right on schedule! Inside, she found a much younger woman seated at one of the two desks that had been empty on Sunday.
“May I help you?” she inquired, as she stood and approached the counter.
Dana pasted on what she hoped was a winning smile. “I sure hope so.” She pulled out the letter Zachary gave her on Saturday and flashed it in front of the young woman. “I need to pull some files for a few women from the prison that are treated here.”
“Yes, we keep their records separate. I can let you look at them, but you can’t have them. They’re hospital property.”
“Two things, ah…” She waved a hand at the clerk.
“Tammy”
“Thanks. I’m Deputy Rossi but you can call me Dana, okay?”
Tammy nodded.
“Two things Tammy: One, I’m dealing with an escaped convict who has major medical issues that were treated here so I’m going to need copies of everything in her file if you won’t let me take it, and from the files for the other two wom
en, her accomplices, as well. Second, I need any records they have with the hospital prior to their incarceration or that might not have made it into their separate prisoner files.”
“Um, okay. I guess. Most of the main hospital stuff is electronic.”
“I figured as much. I have a flash drive right here, brand new, in the package. You can open it yourself. This is a serious situation.” She held her breath waiting to see if Tammy would ask for a closer look at the letter or if she’d ask for a warrant. She let it out when the woman grabbed a pen and paper.
“What are the three names and social security numbers?”
“I don’t have their socials. Is that necessary?”
“It is if we have other patients by the same name. HIPPA, you understand.”
“Somehow, I doubt it. Start with their prisoner records and we can get them from there…I’d imagine, right?” Dana caught herself in her near slip. She didn’t want Tammy to know she’d ever been in the patient records department before.
“What are the three names?”
“Sheila Ford, Raeanne Cherryman and Avery Nix.” Because there’s more to Nix than she’s letting on too.
“You’re going to have to give me a little time. Do you want to come back in, say a half hour?”
Dana didn’t know how long the old clerk’s lunch break was, and she didn’t want to chance getting caught. “How about you draw the prisoner stuff and I copy just what I need while you look for the electronic files for the three of them?”
“I guess that would be okay.” With that, she grabbed a key and went back to the tiny room Dana had been in two days prior. She returned a couple of minutes later carrying only two files. Placing them in front of Dana, she said, “We don’t have a file for Nix.”
Draught! “It’s okay. I couldn’t be sure. I’m not sure where in the state she’s from, so she may not have any other treatment records here, but I’d appreciate it if you’d check. Sorry this is all so disorganized and last minute.” Dana flashed her a smile again.
The young clerk smiled back. “No problem.”
Dana spent ten minutes making copies she didn’t need of the files for Ford and Cherryman. She was hoping that, especially in Sheila’s case, many of her consults that had been recorded electronically had never been converted to old fashioned paper for her prison record. She watched as Tammy removed the new flash drive from her computer and began doing something else.
“I’m about done over here. How you coming over there?” she called out.
“All set on the files. Just printing off a release form.”
“A release?” Dana panicked.
Tammy picked up the flash, walked over to the printer and retrieved the form, then stepped back up to the counter. “A release for the records. If you’re taking them, you have to sign a release.”
Dana scribbled her name as illegibly as she could and got out of there.
As she exited the building, she spotted a squad unloading in front of the ER entrance. She stopped short when she realized the EMT emerging from the back with the tail end of a gurney was Caleb Lighty. He and the guy that was already on the ground, his back to her, then rushed the patient inside.
She walked over to the ambulance and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Hi there Caleb. Remember me?”
The EMT recoiled in shock.
“I can’t believe you’re back on the job already after losing a patient…a prisoner.” She looked at the other one and read his name tag to herself. ‘T. Lundquist’. ‘T’, huh? Probably Theo. “And you must be Theo; am I right? How are you feeling? Better?”
The man just stared at her, anger in his eyes.
“Look, Deputy…I’m really sorry,” Caleb began then stopped. “Why…why are you still here?”
Theo stiffened beside him, but Caleb didn’t seem to notice, his focus solely on Dana.
Their radios jumped to life. Theo answered the call, listened for a few seconds then told Caleb, “Let’s go.”
Dana watched as they drove away, lights flashing and sirens screaming. There’s my lead. She got in her rental, drove over to their compound and found a spot where she could see the employee parking lot.
While she waited, she paged through the copies of the paperwork she’d printed for Sheila Ford and Raeanne Cherryman. She hadn’t been able to photograph everything before but nothing new jumped out at her this time around, either. She mentally kicked herself for not bringing her laptop with her. She couldn’t review the files on the flash drive and she couldn’t look up Theo or Theodore Lundquist.
She passed an hour and then two, sitting waiting, watching squads come and go every so often. She didn’t have a very good view of the parking area for the medical units, but that wasn’t her aim. She was pretty sure Caleb and Theo had returned to their base. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the two men emerge from a side door, into the lot and head toward separate cars.
The FBI has a bead on Caleb. She started the car and pulled out to follow Theo Lundquist. Thirty minutes of traffic later, he exited the expressway and entered the upscale suburb of Green Hills. When he turned into a small, tony condo complex, she feared being spotted, but she followed anyway, needing to know his business there.
He pulled into the parking garage and parked on the second level in a reserved spot. He lives here? Can’t be cheap. Dana drove by and continued on up slowly, level by level, then started her descent, just as slow, praying he’d already exited his vehicle and gone to his unit.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted his empty car on her circular descent back down through the garage. She didn’t see him peeking out through the long narrow window in the stairwell door, watching her pass.
Chapter 17 - Liability
Caleb let himself into his little apartment in Tap Root Hills. It wasn’t much, but it was what he could afford. It was a bit of a haul in Nashville traffic to get to and from work, but it was close to school, a major plus for him.
He peeled off his standard issue jacket and threw it down on the futon sofa that was still laid flat because it doubled as his bed. He’d put the jacket away later, before class. Right now, he needed food.
From the fridge, he took out sandwich fixings and put something together from what he had. He’d been meaning to go to the store, but the weekend had been shot through after the fallout over Sheila Ford disappearing. He was lucky he still had a job. There hadn’t been time to do any shopping once the week got rolling. Maybe tomorrow after work. No more classes for a week.
He stood at the counter, munching his sandwich, paging through the reading assignment for class. He figured there’d be a quiz on it. Mike has to get one last dig into us before we get our Thanksgiving break.
After he finished up, he dug in the tiny closet, the only storage in the studio unit, for a clean shirt and changed, throwing his uniform shirt toward the laundry basket. He didn’t bother to change his pants. The Dickies with all the usual gear were required at school, just like they were on the job. He patted himself down to make sure he had everything he’d need and then he reorganized his gear bag for class.
He checked his watch. Still more than thirty minutes before he had to leave. He grabbed the edge of the futon, lifted and pulled until it locked into couch position, then picked up his company jacket and moved toward the closet.
A knock at the door stopped him in his tracks and he frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone; not on a school night.
“Who’s there?” The response was so muffled, he couldn’t make out the words. He went to the door instead of to the closet.
Recognition dawned in his eyes when he opened it, but he never got a word of his own out.
“Sorry,” his unexpected guest said. “You’ve become a liability.”
###
Mel’s personal cell rang. She looked at the dash display. Holly…that’s weird. She punched the button to answer. “What’s up? Why aren’t you calling my duty cell from the office?”<
br />
“Because this is a professional courtesy call,” she whispered back, “but not one I wanted to make from the office line, if you know what I mean.”
Mel sighed. “What now?”
“Word is getting out that you sent your wife to Tennessee to retrieve Sheila Ford and that Dana lost the prisoner. “One of the County Commissioners has been calling every half hour on the hour, demanding to speak to you. I keep putting him off, telling him you’re working a case.”
“I am working a case.”
“It’s Todd Bell, Mel.”
“Crap!” Bell was a thorn in her side but the one person who often took her side. “He does realize I don’t answer to him, right? I don’t answer to any of them.”
“I don’t think he cares.”
“Text the number he left to my duty cell. I’ll call him back.”
“We need you to come over to the county office for a sit down at 6:00 tonight.”
“No can do, Todd.”
“I don’t think you understand. It’s not a request. Your career could depend on appeasing these people.”
Mel was done with his exaggerations. “What are you going to do? Ask me to step down if you don’t like what you hear, Todd? You can’t fire me. You have no authority to do that. Are you saying you’re going to bring suit against me if I don’t comply with whatever it is you’ve dreamed up that I’ve done and try and make me plead my way out of conviction and out of office? Is that what you’re threatening?”
“No, no. Don’t go off the rails here. The rumors are flying Crane. We need to get a handle on it before the public starts demanding answers. Put our heads together, form a cohesive plan. That’s what we want.”
You just don’t want any sewage that spills off of me to drown you. “Be that as it may, I can’t be there at 6:00. I’m on the road, following leads on this case.”