Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel)

by Lynn Bohart

  “It didn’t come in an interoffice envelope?”

  “No. It came with the rest of the mail, just as you see it.” Marie turned away, clutching a handful of paper.

  Lee shrugged and stuffed the picture and envelope in her purse, feeling too overwhelmed to contemplate it now. Glancing over at Diane’s desk, where some of her personal belongings still sat, she made a decision.

  “Listen, can you guys box up all of Diane’s stuff? Carey and her mother are going over to the condo this weekend to do the same thing. I’ll drop it off to them.”

  “We’ll get some boxes from shipping,” Marie said with a pained expression.

  Jenny popped her head around the partition. “What should we do with the boxes?”

  “I can pick them up.”

  Jenny rolled her chair all the way into the walk space. “No, Lee. One of us will drop them off at your house.”

  “Don’t come back, Lee,” Marie said quietly. “We can take care of it.”

  “Thanks,” Lee replied, warmth rising to her cheeks. “And, I’m sorry if I seem out of sorts. I just… well, thanks.”

  She started for the door when Marie stopped her. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Marie handed Lee a pink telephone message. “I thought you’d like to see this. Ruth Innes called. She’s back in the lab. “

  Lee’s mind raced. Ruth was an information systems coordinator who had worked in the lab until she was hired away by a computer software company. Lee thanked Marie and headed straight for the lab on the second floor. Her nap could wait. She wound her way through a narrow hallway and found Ruth in her old office, the phone glued to her ear. When Lee arrived, Ruth waved her in, while she finished her conversation. Lee took a chair next to the cluttered desk.

  After a year in the corporate world, Ruth’s appearance hadn’t changed. No tailored suits or white-cuffed blouses. Instead, she wore her brown hair in a long braid down her back and a full, colorful skirt accented with dangling jewelry. When Ruth hung up, she got up and gave Lee a hug that produced a tinkling melody as the strands of necklace collided.

  “Lee, how are you?

  “I’m fine. When did you come back?”

  “This week. Jack gave me my old job back. The for-profit world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I missed having to raise money for what I needed.” She winked and motioned for Lee to sit down. “So, how are you, really? I heard about Diane.”

  The mention of Diane’s name brought a catch to Lee’s throat, something she hadn’t expected. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “I wish I could help.” Ruth’s large dark eyes showed genuine sympathy. “I liked Diane.”

  Lee perked up. “You mean that?”

  “Mean what? That I liked her?”

  “No. Help.”

  “Of course. What can I do?”

  Lee knew Ruth meant emotional support, and God knows she needed it. But right now, she needed much more and threw out a careless response to Ruth’s question.

  “The police think Diane committed suicide. I don’t.” The other woman pulled back, but Lee pushed forward. “I’m trying to figure out how she died. You worked with Diane on the employee campaign for two years. You know how rigid she could be and what a perfectionist she was. Can you picture her killing herself?”

  “No. The moment I heard that she committed suicide, I questioned it.”

  “Will you help me get some answers?”

  Ruth paused as her demeanor became guarded, but the dark eyes searched Lee’s as if calculating a critical move in a chess game. “Are you working with the police?”

  “No. I’m on my own. They ruled it a suicide, so the case is closed.”

  “I see.” Ruth hesitated, her hands playing with the blotter on her desk, the eyes still looking for answers. “What do you need to know?”

  Lee got up and closed the door. “How would someone commit fraud in a lab like this?”

  “You think someone in our lab is committing fraud?” Her face registered shock, as if Lee had challenged the integrity of the department.

  “No…I mean, I don’t know. I’m only trying to piece things together.”

  “Why do you think someone is committing fraud?”

  “If Diane was killed, there has to be a reason. The only thing I can think of is that she may have stumbled onto something illegal. Something someone else would kill for. So, I’m looking at everything. But she was dating someone in this lab.” She paused, knowing this might cause Ruth to retract.

  Ruth opened her mouth and exhaled. “Yes, Bud Maddox. I don’t know him well, but he thinks a lot of himself.” She glanced through the window in the door out to the lab. “Fortunately, he’s on a break right now.”

  “Good. Look, I need to know how things operate up here in the lab.”

  “Do you suspect Bud?”

  Lee couldn’t say yes, even though she was positive that Bud Maddox had something to do with Diane’s death. But she didn’t want this to appear like a vendetta against a guy she just didn’t like.

  “I don’t suspect anyone, yet. But since she was dating Bud, and he works here, I thought I should follow up.”

  The other woman hesitated a moment before appearing to make a decision.

  “I trust you, Lee, but we need to be careful.”

  “If you don’t want to do this, just say so.”

  The other woman took a deep sigh, folding one lip under the other. “No, I want to help. But, I think I should show you instead of just telling you,” she said, as if catching on to a game.

  “No one can know what I’m doing,” Lee said cautiously. “If asked why I’m here, remember, I’m just responding to your phone call.”

  “Well, I did call you. I wanted to volunteer again for the employee campaign committee.”

  “Okay. Good enough.”

  They left the office and ran immediately into one of the shift supervisors. Ruth took the lead with confidence.

  “Hi, Ray. You know Lee Vanderhaven from the Foundation. The Foundation is looking for some capital equipment to fund.”

  “Oh, sure. Hi, Lee,” he nodded to Lee. “Take a look at the backup centrifuge. It’s on its last legs, and we couldn’t get it into the capital budget until next year.”

  “I will,” Ruth said agreeably.

  “And don’t forget the staff meeting in a few minutes,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  “I won’t.” Ruth smiled as Ray continued down the hallway. She turned to Lee. “Things haven’t changed much around here. This will be the third meeting I’ve attended today. At some point, I’d like to actually get some work done.”

  Ruth led them into the lab area, which could only be described as ordered chaos. Two long counters covered with computer screens, test tubes, microscopes, and a variety of other supplies led off toward the back wall and a bank of windows that overlooked a parking lot. Boxes were stacked on top of cabinets, while tall stools cluttered the aisles. Things were cramped and congested, and Lee saw at least two workstations tucked into corners. She imagined how easy it might be to conceal your activities here.

  Ruth took her to the second aisle and pointed out a large, waist-high, round metal canister that stood on the floor. This was the backup centrifuge, and Ruth pointed to the newer model sitting right next to it. She looked around to see if any of the technicians were within earshot, and then backed up to the center of the aisle where they could speak alone.

  “Okay,” she said softly, “let me explain a few things. We run a lot of tests here. Medical screens are run on patients who come in for routine surgery or other kinds of treatment. We run a urine profile to determine protein levels, pH, specific gravity, things like that. During each shift, a tech will work on a batch of samples. And for preliminary drug screens, they use this machine.” She indicated a bulky looking machine that sat on the counter to their left. Next to it were two plastic cups.

  Lee looked at the innocuous looking piece of equipment. Someone had taped a small sign to it th
at said, Drug Busters.

  “Funny,” Lee said disingenuously.

  Ruth smiled. “The machine indicates drugs that are present in the urine sample. If the level is above a certain threshold, the tech manually marks it as positive and takes it to a locked refrigerator. Eventually it would go to the drug confirmation room. When they’re finished, the samples are placed back in a locked refrigerator in the next room, along with all other samples that came in for routine drug testing.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Well, drug tests are routinely done on all pre-employment physicals, as well as all industrial accidents. And because of our Occupational Health contracts, we do a lot of physicals. Look there.” She pointed to a row of little plastic cups at the end of the counter that had clear plastic caps and were sealed with a thin strip of red tape. “Those are here for drug testing. The red tape guarantees the seal hasn’t been broken. There’s a chain of custody for most everything we handle.”

  “You mentioned the drug confirmation room. That sounds familiar. Where is that?”

  “Right over there.”

  Ruth pointed to a small room partitioned off by a sliding glass door. Inside, a female technician sat at a big computer, punching in numbers. When Lee turned back, her attention was momentarily deflected by the reflection of something in the window directly above the workstation.

  “What happens to the urine samples that you’re not testing for drugs?” she inquired, ignoring the reflection.

  “There’s no chain of custody on those. The sample sits on the counter until the shift is over. Like those two there. Then they’re put into a refrigerator and kept for two days.”

  She gestured to a refrigerator standing about five feet behind the workstation. Lee realized it was the refrigerator she’d seen reflected in the window.

  “Is that refrigerator locked?”

  “No.”

  “You mean anyone can get at those samples?”

  “Yeah,” Ruth shrugged. “But after two days, they’re thrown away anyway.”

  Lee was trying to figure something out. “If the samples are just put in an unlocked refrigerator, someone could just reach in, pull out a urine sample and run another test?”

  “Why would they run another test? These samples haven’t been tagged for positive drug screens.”

  A lab tech appeared to get a clipboard off the counter, and the two women stopped talking. Ruth overreacted, saying a little too loudly, “What if the fundraising committee picked the centrifuge as their project?”

  Lee was focused on the lab tech and almost missed her cue. “Oh,” she uttered, “Sure.”

  Lee’s off-the-mark reply brought a look of irritation from Ruth, but the lab tech left the area making it unnecessary to continue the charade.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” Ruth chided.

  “Sorry, I was distracted. So, how would someone run an unordered test?”

  Ruth thought a moment. “They could spike a sample with what we call a standard. If they did it with a positive standard, the sample would test positive.”

  “Even though the sample initially had no trace of drugs?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And then the sample would go to the drug confirmation room?”

  “Not necessarily. If they were only running controls it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

  “What’s a control?”

  “Quality control tests,” she clarified. “Every tech has some responsibility for quality control. Routine controls are run daily.”

  “Could someone fake a quality control run?”

  “I suppose so, although I’m not sure why they would.”

  “Would anyone notice if they did?”

  “You mean, would they notice if someone was running something they shouldn’t be?”

  “Yeah.” Lee felt her pulse quicken at the thought she may be onto something.

  “They could probably do it undetected. The techs work on a variety of samples during their shift. And as you can see, this place is a bit like a maze, and no one looks over their shoulders.”

  There was a black ribbon stretched across the flat screen of the computer right next to them. Lee noticed it.

  “Whose station is this?” she asked, indicating the ribbon. “Did someone die?”

  “Yes. Her name was Martha Osgood. She had this station for seven or eight years.”

  “Wow, that’s sad. What happened to her?”

  Ruth’s face fell. “She was killed last night…in a hit and run accident. Somebody mowed her down right in front of her own apartment. She worked the night shift and was on her way to work. I think that’s probably why no one’s at the computer today. Out of respect.”

  “No one saw who hit her?”

  Lee turned slowly to stare at the refrigerator and for the second time in just a few days, she felt like someone had crossed over her grave.

  “I’m told they found the car, but it was stolen. Martha was very nice. She’ll be missed.” Just then a woman appeared at the corner of the aisle.

  “Ruth, you have a phone call. It’s Mary Jacobs from the blood bank. And everyone is in the break room. Jack is just about to start the meeting.”

  “I’ll take the call. And tell Jack I’ll be a few minutes late.” With a look of apology, she said to Lee, “I’ve got to take this call, but I’ll come right back. The meeting can wait.” In a flurry of colorful folds of fabric, she billowed away.

  Lee was left to survey her surroundings. The reflection in the window drew her attention again. It was directly above Martha Osgood’s station. Lee looked from the reflection back to the refrigerator. During the daytime, the reflection in the window was faint, but Lee imagined how crisp it might be at nighttime, set against the darkness outside. The refrigerator opened from right to the left. That way, the interior would also be reflected in the window, along with whatever anyone was doing. The newspaper ad for the refrigerator suddenly made sense. Somewhere behind her a door closed.

  She looked around to make sure no one was coming back to the work stations and then moved over to the refrigerator. With a momentary heart flutter, she opened the door and glanced inside, sure that she was shattering yet one more rule of order. Leaning on the counter with her right hand, she leaned in to peer into the cold interior. She studied the labels attached to the small cups, wondering again what exactly the anonymous tip about the refrigerator meant. Was someone doing something illegal using this refrigerator? And was the messenger Martha Osgood?

  Without warning, the warm flesh of another hand landed directly on top of hers. Lee jerked her hand back as a shriek erupted from her throat. A dark blue sleeve disappeared from the other side of the counter. Lee backed up against the opposite counter, wheezing like an asthmatic. She glanced to her left. She could make a dash for the main hallway. Just as she was about to move, something brushed against the lobe of her right ear. Lee rebounded to her left and bumped against the counter like the steel ball in a pinball machine. Her foot got caught under the wheel of a cart, and she would have fallen had it not been for a strong hand. She was about to say thank you, when she found herself staring once more into the leering face of Bud Maddox. He held her wrist in a firm grip, the blue sleeve of his shirt folded back against his forearm.

  “I didn’t scare you, did I?” he smiled. “I couldn’t resist, you know. There you were, sneaking a peak into a restricted refrigerator. This is the second time I’ve saved you from a nasty fall.”

  The aroma of his aftershave lingered in her nostrils from where he had touched her ear. The smell immediately took her back to the night in her hallway, and her entire body went rigid.

  “It was you,” she exhaled. “You…you…” she couldn’t finish her sentence. But the thought of his hand on her skin made her anger boil over. “You fucking bastard,” she said in a low voice.

  She wrenched her arm free, but Maddox’s smile only broadened. “Well, now, we didn’t get to that part, did we?
I mean the fucking part. We were just warming up.”

  “I’ll report you.”

  “No you won’t,” he smiled, leaning in. “Because if you did, I’d have to tell them about that file you had on me. The one you stole from HR. It would get you − and probably your friend, Robin − fired.”

  He continued to chuckle, the way a schoolyard bully laughs when his victim pleads to get his lunch money back. But Lee had finally hit her limit. She took a deep breath and leaned toward him.

  “If you EVER touch me again, I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

  He waited a moment and then grinned.

  “Gee, thanks for the warning.” Suddenly, the arrogant expression was gone. “I’d be careful, Lee, if I were you. You’re digging yourself into a pretty big hole around here. And there are people who don’t like it.”

  With that, he turned and left. Lee remained where she was, her body numb. A moment later, Ruth appeared at the end of the aisle.

  “What did Mr. Wonderful want?” she asked, looking at his departing figure.

  Lee took a deep breath to quiet her thoughts.

  “Nothing,” she lied. “Can we go back to your office?”

  Ruth gave her a suspicious look. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just need to get rid of the stench left behind by that guy.”

  When they’d gone back to Ruth’s office and closed the door, Lee sat in a chair for a moment, catching her breath.

  “Lee, what happened out there? You look a little green.”

  Something inside her told Lee to play down the incident. “Everything about that guy makes me sick, that’s all.” She wiped perspiration from her forehead. “Listen, I have just a couple more questions and then I’ll get out of your way. So, how would someone produce a phony report? Wouldn’t you have to put it into the computer? And if you did, wouldn’t that produce a record?”

  “Not necessarily,” her friend replied. Ruth reached into a pile of papers on her desk and produced a piece of paper, carefully putting her thumb over the name of the patient. “Here’s what the report looks like. If the person had any knowledge of computer programming, it would be easy to run a phony report like this, and it would never show up officially.” Ruth looked closely at Lee, her dark eyes straining to understand. “Is that what you think happened, Lee?”