by Anne Hagan
She followed drag marks and the faint blood trail back there, flipped on the light with a gloved hand, and peeked inside. The shower curtain lay in a heap on the floor, in front of the commode. The stain of blood was still in the tub. He’d been shot or stabbed - the paper didn’t say - and drug there to bleed out and die.
The hair stood up on the back of her neck and her arms. She shivered involuntarily.
I don’t need to see any more of that…not ever. She flipped off the light and backed away carefully.
There wasn’t much else to see. If Caleb had, had a computer, the police had taken it. A text book laid open on a counter top. She glanced at the facing pages. Pulmonary function. His paramedic course.
A pile of mail lay at one end of the counter; most of it unopened. She sifted through it. Synovus Bank. She shook her head. Never heard of that one. She checked the name on her phone: Formerly the Bank of Nashville. Branches everywhere. She contemplated the envelope for a minute. I’m already in here semi-illegally. What’s a federal offense to add to the mix? She tore it open and skimmed the contents.
It was a statement for the month of October. There were weekly deposits of his pay from TSA. He brought home a little more than $300 a week in three of the weeks, more in a fourth when he must have gotten some overtime. There were automatic deductions for rent to the complex, $550.00 for a small studio unit, electricity and car insurance. More than half his take home pay was eaten up by those three things.
She almost put it down when an entry near the end of page two of the reverse chronological statement caught her eye. $1,500.00 from a J. Wasserstrom, LPA, deposited on October second. She skimmed back up through the document and noticed that he made a payment to the fire academy in the amount of $1,200.00 shortly after he received the check. Why is an attorney paying Caleb $1,500.00 or helping him pay for school? Could it be a relative helping him out? Or, does it have something to do with Theo? She put the statement down and snapped pictures of it with her phone then replaced it in the envelope and stuffed it into the middle of the stack.
Back in the office, she found an older, balding man with a beer paunch standing behind the desk. The football fan was gone.
“Can I help you?”
“Just bringing these keys back and signing out.”
“Find what you needed?”
“Just doing some follow-up…loose ends.”
“I’m Jimmy, the super. When are you folks going to release that?”
“It shouldn’t be long,” she lied. “You know, the holiday. We’ve got a skeleton crew on. Why do you ask?”
“Not to be crass or nothing, but those studios are popular. I have a waiting list. The family wants in there to claim his things, what little bit he had…I figure I gotta get it cleaned up first. They wouldn’t let me back in there after I found him.”
“Oh, so you’re the one that found him.”
“Yeah. No water pressure in that building yesterday. I traced it to there. I knocked, he didn’t answer. The door was unlocked, I swear.”
Dana nodded, putting him at ease.
“He was in the bathtub, a bullet hole through his chest, the shower set low, running, spraying down on him and draining away. I’ll never get that picture out of my head…those eyes staring up at me.
“So, you’ve heard from his next of kin?”
“They’re out of state. They want to come next week.”
“Where is he?”
“Morgue, I guess.”
“Are they taking him home, wherever that is?”
“Beats me.”
“No funeral?”
“I don’t have a clue. Sorry.”
Chapter 24 - Prime Suspect
Late Thursday Evening, November 26th
J. Wasserstrom, LPA was a personal injury lawyer, an ambulance chaser. With his name and the details of his practice stuck in her head, and the combination of all of the other clues she had, Dana felt she was right back to Theodore Lundquist as a primary suspect. In her mind, he was the key to Sheila’s disappearance and it was likely he was Caleb’s killer. If she wanted to know what happened to Sheila, she had to watch Theo.
She stopped at the local super store for some additional protection and provisions and then went along to his condo to see if she could get a better look around.
She was disappointed to find out his car was in the parking garage. She’d hoped he wouldn’t be home so she could poke around his condo a little, try the doors, peek in the windows. Instead, she pulled around to the row on the other side of the structural supports and backed into a guest spot. In the dark, from the distance between their cars, he wouldn’t notice her watching him, if he did decide to go out.
Two hours passed and then three. She was thinking about how tired and stiff she was feeling when Theo walked into the garage, toward his car. At least, she thought it was Theo. She slunk low in her seat and watched as his driver’s side door opened, and he was bathed in the interior light. She breathed a sigh of relief, after realizing she’d been holding her breath.
He pulled out of the space and took the ramp down and out of the garage.
Follow? Check his place? She decided to check his place out. It might be her only crack at it. Wish I had some help.
Dana got out of her car and worked the kinks out of her back and legs as much as she could. Then, her always present limp and all, she ambled toward his front door, a pleasant look plastered on her face for anyone who happened to notice her hanging about.
She knocked and waited several moments, looking around, smiling. When no one answered, she knocked again and called out, “Theo?” then waited a couple of beats before trying the door handle. It was locked.
“Draught!” she said aloud. “He said he’d be here.” She sidestepped to a window and peered inside. A light was on, somewhere a little deeper in the unit. She could see she was looking into a living room that was fully furnished but devoid of any human occupants. Do I dare go around the back?
As she stepped away, contemplating how much she could get away with, someone crept up on her from behind. “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing?” A woman’s voice asked in a low but firm, no nonsense tone.
Dana whirled about and came face to face with a woman dressed all in black, a skull cap covering most of her short blond hair except what protruded, just above the collar. She flinched as she thought about her new back-up in its waistband holster.
“Don’t move a muscle,” the woman commanded. “You carrying?”
“Who wants to know?” Her voice didn’t come out as strong as she would have liked, but she was glad she’d been able to get the words out at all.
“I asked you first.” Headlights shone on them from a distance. The woman reached for Dana’s arm with one hand and pointed toward the end of the garage with the other. “Come on, let’s go, before somebody makes us.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, until you tell me who you are,” Dana said.
“Walk and talk then. Don’t mess this up for me.” The woman strode toward the cover of the far end of the garage, leaving Dana to limp along behind her as fast as she could manage.
“Mess what up?” Dana hissed when she got close enough for the slightly taller woman to hear. “I’m trying to conduct an investigation here!”
“As am I.”
The two women stared at each other in the darkness, neither giving in.
Yvonne Gibbons looked across the booth at Dana as she stirred cream into her coffee. She waited until a busboy passed with his cart and then she began her story. “I’m an insurance fraud investigator; mostly freelance.”
Dana smirked. I was right!
Yvonne didn’t notice. “I’ve been on this case a long time. Really long. I’ve got a major client that’s footing most of the bill for this, but I’ve found a several smaller companies that are also getting hit pretty hard by the ring I’m trying to unmask. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time left. A couple of the small companies are
teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. One more out-sized jury award to a so-called victim could do them in.”
“And you think Lundquist is a key person in your investigation?”
“Let’s just say, he’s a person of interest. What’s your interest in him? Who are you working for?”
Dana sketched her professional background quickly then told Yvonne what happened with Sheila Ford and about Theo’s partner, Caleb Lighty.
“You never said you were with the police.”
“Actually, I’m not. I’m medically retired from all of that. I was deputized to handle this one assignment and I blew it, so I’m trying to atone for my sins. That’s how I got this far. It’s a long story but the gist is it all started because my…spouse…my wife, who is a county sheriff, and I vacationed here in Tennessee at the advice of some local friends, Sheila Ford included, and we liked it well enough to buy some property down here. But, when we were here originally, we got tangled up in the murder mystery Sheila turned out to be a part of.” Dana paused, searching for the right words. Finally, she said, “It’s really one of those, ‘you can’t make this stuff up’ kind of stories.”
“I just started watching Lundquist,” Yvonne admitted. “I suspected him - him and his partner, actually - of being tied into the fraud ring, but I just couldn’t prove it. Lundquist was involved in an injury-accident case himself last year that was ultimately thrown out of court, but it triggered me to to start watching him. Lighty’s murder the other day clinched it for me. Those two brought in more than their fair share of accident victims who were customers of my big corporate clients and one or two each, for a few of the smaller ones.”
Dana thought about keeping mum about the attorney, but she realized he might be a key to solving the case. “These victims; did their cases all go to court?”
“A lot of them. Why?”
“Did they use the same attorney?”
Yvonne shook her head. “No. I know what you’re thinking, but no. Ambulance chasers most of them, but they’re from all over.”
“Does the name J. Wasserstrom ring a bell to you?”
Yvonne nodded. “I’ve seen it come up in a case or three, but they all do. He’s had dealings with Lundquist. Defended him in the civil case I mentioned over an accident, but he was actually a criminal defense attorney before that.”
“Wow. Okay. So, Theo…Lundquist played a victim and then, when he lost, maybe pulled Wasserstrom into the scam? Maybe as a way to repay him after the case was thrown out and they didn’t get any money?”
The older woman’s mouth dropped a little. She snapped her fingers. “You put that together, just like that.”
Dana smiled. “Only after processing what you’ve shared. You know what they say, two heads are better than one.”
“After that mass accident last week, I sat outside the funeral home for one of the victims who didn’t make it. I got a few photos of some of the mourners and several photos of license plates of cars that I think will trace back to the owners of cars involved in the accident and at least two cars I’m pretty sure were actually involved. I even went in during a time when the calling hours were quite busy. There were a lot of familiar faces in there…Ones I’ve been pouring over from driver’s license photos and such for the last few days and ones I’ve been trailing for months. I think I know who the ring leaders are, but they’re good at not leaving a paper trail. They use disposable cell phones. They constantly recruit ‘victims’ so the same people might only be used once in a year, sometimes every couple of years.”
“Everyone gets a cut of awards, right?”
Yvonne nodded.
Lundquist has an expensive new car, a nice condo…all on a paramedic’s salary. The condo is mortgaged, and his nut has to be in the neighborhood of $1,500 a month. The car…he may have a note, he may not. I didn’t get a look at any financials. Buying outright would have cost him $40,000, easy. I couldn’t find a title in a search in his name. Leasing or buying on contract, his payments have to be $500.00 a month or more. He’s got to be padding his pockets from somewhere. He’s got to be dirty…leading your ring, maybe? Right?”
“You’re on the right track. What you don’t know is that there are cops involved, garages involved, dirty doctors. There are victims, some legitimate who get caught up in the crossfire, some not, and there are people who do things that cause the accidents who are long gone before the first 911 call hits the dispatcher. The ring encompasses dozens of people and organizations beyond just the so-called accident victims.”
“What about the women’s prison,” Dana asked. “Could it be a training and recruiting ground for victims? For drivers?”
“The women’s, the men’s, county jails. Unfortunately, I’m private. I have no way of getting into any of those places and getting anyone to talk.”
Dana realized she had a leg up on her there. She thought about Doctor Rutledge but decided to keep the information to herself for the time being. I really don’t have anything at all to prove she’s dirty…yet.
Chapter 25 - Intervention
Drunk, Theo fumbled with his keys, at his front door.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Dana offered as she appeared at his right side.
He swayed in place as he looked at her, obviously recognizing her but not able to place her in his drunken state.
“Or allow me,” Yvonne said, as she appeared at his right.
“What the hell? Who are you women…leave me alone. I’m in mourning!” He yelled the last part.
Dana yanked his keys out of his hand and unlocked the door while Yvonne, shushing him, pushed him inside.
“Hey! Easy…easy! What’s going on?”
“We’re going to have a little intervention,” Yvonne said.
“What for? Drinking? I don’t drink that often.” He was swaying so much, he almost toppled over. The two women led him over to his sofa.
“I’ll make coffee,” Dana said.
“I don’t want any coffee. You two need to leave. I want to go to bed now.”
“No bed. We talk first. Do you know why we’re here?”
“You said something about an invention.”
“In-ter-ven-shun,” Yvonne enunciated. “We’re going to sober you up a little bit…not too much, then you’re going to tell us what we want to know.”
“I don’t know anything, I swear!”
“You don’t even know what we’re going to ask you about, yet.” Yvonne called out to Dana, “What’s the ETA on the coffee?”
“He’s got a Keurig. Be about a minute.”
Ten minutes later after coffee and a sandwich and a small amount of cheek slapping to keep him awake, they started hitting Theo with their questions. He admitted to being a part of a fraud ring but he was mostly incoherent in his answers about who he took his orders from.
“Sometimes, me and Caleb, we find people ourselves, we like…we recruit…you know? They have a accident and we reel them in, like fishing. Sometimes we just get called out like normal to go to the scene…pick up victims. Some of them are fake, maybe. I don’t know. I just do my job. We do are job…we did. Poor Caleb. Poor, poor Caleb.”
“What happened to Caleb, Theo?”
“Caleb’s gone.”
“Gone how?”
“He died. Caleb died…poor Caleb.”
“How did Caleb die?”
Theo rocked back and forth on the couch, repeating over and over, “poor Caleb”.
Yvonne put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. She bent down and looked him in the eye. “Tell us what you did to Caleb.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t do nothing to him. I swear. Poor Caleb.”
Yvonne tried asking, “How did he die, Theo?”
“He was shot.”
“Did you shoot him?”
Again, he shook his head. “No. I couldn’t do that to Caleb. I couldn’t. They said he messed up.” Theo looked at Dana then, sobering then, really seeing her for the first time that evenin
g. “They said you knew too much and they killed him because of you.”
“Who is ‘they’?” Dana asked.
“No. They’ll kill me too.”
“Theo,” Yvonne started as she put two fingers under his chin and turned his head back to her, “you’re in a lot of trouble here. We know all about the fraud.”
His eyes grew wide.
“All about it,” she went on. “If you help us, tell us what you know, it will help you, maybe save your own ass.” She started to pepper him with questions. Some he answered. Some he didn’t, claiming he didn’t know.
“Tell me about the day of the big accident on 24, Theo,” Yvonne asked him. “What did you do that day?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
Dana was losing patience with him. “Did you go to work that day?”
He hesitated before answering. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I was…I was sick.”
“Really,” Yvonne asked. “Or were you told to call in sick?”
He hung his head.
Yvonne put two fingers under his chin again and lifted his head. “Theo, if you want to stay out of jail, you need to answer the question.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a squeak then put a hand over his stomach. “I don’t feel so good now.”
“But you were fine that day, weren’t you?” Dana asked.
He nodded.
She wasn’t going to give up until she had answers, or he threw up. She went and found a water pitcher in one of his cupboards and brought it back to the living room. Picking up where she left off, she asked him, “Who told you to call off that day?”
“They did.”