by Kathi Daley
He rose. “Yes, I’m Zak Zimmerman.”
“I’m Dr. Whitmore, filling in for Dr. Westlake.”
“Where’s Dr. Westlake?” I asked.
“He is doing a stint with Doctors Without Borders.”
Now that he mentioned it, I seemed to remember our usual doctor telling me his plans a while back. Charlie was a therapy dog and we used to stop by the hospital all the time, but my life had gotten so busy the past couple of years, I’m afraid offering comfort to hospital patients had been one of the things I’d pushed onto the back burner.
“How’s Nona? Is she going to be okay?” Zak asked.
“She’s stable at the moment. Your grandmother is suffering from the effects of a tumor that’s putting pressure on her brain.”
“Is it dangerous?” I asked.
“There’s risk involved with any surgery, but I think there’s real hope for a full recovery.”
“Real hope? What does that mean?” Zak asked.
“I’d say the odds of her doing just fine is better than fifty percent.”
My heart sank. Fifty percent.
“Your grandmother has already had at least one stroke, and we found evidence of minor heart attacks as well,” the doctor continued. “I suspect her blood pressure has been high for quite some time. It seems to have gone untreated. Does your grandmother drink?”
Zak nodded. “A lot.”
“One of the scans we did showed liver disease. These medical issues, along with her age, will unfortunately add to the overall risk of the surgery.”
Zak bowed his head. “I understand. When do you want to operate?”
The doctor hesitated. “There’s a neurosurgeon in the hospital in Bryton Lake. He’d be a better choice than anyone here.”
“Make the transfer,” Zak said. “I’m going to follow the life flight helicopter down.”
“I’ll follow you with the truck. I’ll call Ellie and ask her to either come stay at our house or pick up the kids and take them to her place.” I hugged Zak. “Nona’s a fighter. She’s going to pull through this.”
“I really hope so.”
******
The next few hours were some of the tensest of my life, but after waiting while the neurosurgeon at Bryton Lake did his own assessment, and then pacing the halls of the waiting area of the surgery center for almost seven hours after he decided emergency surgery was in order, he finally came out and told us Nona was stable and in recovery. Zak wanted to see her, but he was told she was still out from the anesthesia and would be for quite some time, so we’d need to come back the following day. We thanked the surgeon and headed out to Zak’s truck.
“I’m exhausted,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot. “I spoke to Deputy Buckner. He’s having Connor Brown brought in for questioning when the competition is over. He said we could watch the interview through the glass if we wanted to.” I glanced at Zak. “I’d like to. If you aren’t too tired.”
“I’d like to as well. When Nona wakes up I really want to be able to tell her that we have the whole story and she can stop worrying.”
“If Brown isn’t being picked up until after the competition, we should have time to stop by the house. We can take showers and change into clean clothes. We’d probably feel better if we ate something too. I’ll call Ellie to let her know what’s going on.” I paused, then added, “Don’t you think it might be time to call your mother to let her know what’s going on?”
Zak sighed. “Yeah. I guess. I’ll do it as soon as we have a chance to regroup. I’m not sure I can deal with whatever snarky comment she’s likely to make.”
“It’s too bad your mom and Nona don’t get along. I’m sure that makes things hard on you.”
Zak didn’t respond, but I could see by the look on his face that he agreed.
“I guess if you think about it, we’re the only family Nona has who she has a relationship with.”
“While it’s true most of the family wants nothing to do with her, the rift between them is mostly her fault. Still, I feel bad about the way things are. Nona has a lot to offer if the others would just give her a chance.”
I chuckled. “I understand not everyone can take Nona’s brand of crazy. Still, I adore her, and I worry about her. Even before this, I was thinking maybe we should talk about having her move in with us. We have the room now that Pi has moved out,” I said, mentioning our third almost-child, “and she’s going to need help, definitely in the short term but possibly forever.”
“She’ll resist the idea,” Zak said.
“She will, but we can be forceful when we need to be. She can’t keep living her life the way she has.” I paused. “I take that back. She can keep living that way if she doesn’t care about being around for years to come. We both know her lifestyle is a recipe for a disaster of some sort.”
Zak wiped his eyes with his fingers. The poor guy looked exhausted. “Okay. When she’s awake and alert and completely out of danger, we’ll talk with her. The doctors are going to insist she has care for the short term at any rate. We can work on a long-term arrangement from there.”
“I really think once she gets settled in she’ll be happy. She adores you and she adores Catherine. She’s a big fan of Scooter’s video games and seems to enjoy chatting with Alex. On her own she might have excitement and her freedom, but with us she has a family.”
By the time we got home it felt like we’d been away a week, not just a bit more than thirteen hours. I made us something to eat while Zak showered and changed. I figured it was most important for him to have a clear mind because he would be the one driving. I’d decided to heat up the leftover spaghetti from the night before by repurposing it into a spaghetti casserole. It actually looked and smelled wonderful. Zak still wasn’t down by the time I slipped the casserole into the oven, so I called Ellie.
“How’s Nona?” Ellie asked.
“Alive.”
“I guess that’s something.”
I sighed. “Yes, it’s something. She isn’t out of danger yet, but the surgeon seemed optimistic. We won’t be able to see her until tomorrow, so we came home.”
“We’re at the beach with all the kids. I can bring them home when we’re done here.”
“Actually, Zak and I are going over to the sheriff’s office to observe an interview with Elvis #7. If you wouldn’t mind keeping the kids until after we’re finished with that, that would be wonderful.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Ellie assured me. “Levi and I will bring the kids to your place and stay there with them if you aren’t home yet. They’re having fun, so Levi’s going to pick up burgers and bring them back for us to have a picnic. We’ll probably be here until after sunset.”
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate your help. I have our dinner in the oven; I should go check on it. I’ll text you if it looks like we won’t be home by nine.”
By the time I hung up, Zak had come down. We went ahead and ate before I hurried upstairs to take my own shower. I really hoped we were right about what had happened, and that Elvis #7 would be willing to corroborate it. With the conclusion of the competition, we were pretty much out of time. If we didn’t get our answers today I wasn’t sure we ever would.
Chapter 13
At the sheriff’s office we were shown into a small room that was divided from another small room by a mirrored window. The man who was brought in wasn’t dressed as Elvis but in regular clothing. I supposed it made sense he would have changed into jeans and a T-shirt now that the competition was over and the competitors were all back to being regular guys rather than the king of rock and roll, even whoever the winner was. I wondered who that was. I didn’t really care that much, but I’d met several of the contestants and admitted to being curious.
“Can you tell me why I’m here?” Connor Brown demanded after Deputy Buckner joined him in the small room.
“I have some questions for you regarding the death of Calvin Jobs.”
Brown went pal
e.
“I understand you were staying in the motel room next to Mr. Jobs during the past week,” Buckner continued.
“Yeah. So?”
“I also understand your room and his were connected by a door that could provide a suite.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t notice. In case you aren’t in the loop, I was part of a competition this weekend. A very demanding and high-profile competition. What that means is that I was busy. Very, very, busy. I didn’t have time to notice things like extra doors.”
Buckner leaned back in his chair. “I understand you had a busy week. I also have information that suggests you and Mr. Jobs were not only rivals but enemies as well. It appears that of all the contestants, you had the most reason to kill him.”
Brown shook his head. “Calvin and I were friends. We were rivals, but certainly not enemies. I didn’t have a problem with him and I certainly didn’t kill anyone.”
Buckner eyed Brown up and down. It seemed to make him squirm, which was probably the point. We’d discussed claiming to have evidence as a means of getting him to confess to helping Calvin fake his own death, so I imagined the long pause was his way of leading up to it. The deputy cleared his throat and narrowed his gaze. “You said you didn’t notice the door that connected the two rooms?”
“That’s right. I was only in my room to sleep.”
“That’s interesting, because we found evidence to suggest you used that door to access Mr. Jobs’s room.”
“What evidence?” Brown demanded.
“Your fingerprints were on both sides of the door as well as on the deadbolt, which can be locked or unlocked from either side.”
Brown was beginning to look sick, but he didn’t answer.
“We furthermore believe the reason you accessed the room was to put a knife in Mr. Jobs’s chest while a witness slept nearby.”
Even though I knew Buckner was lying, he was very convincing. If I’d been the one being interrogated I’d have been sweating too.
“I didn’t kill Calvin.” The guy looked like he was going to burst into tears. “I swear to you.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t access Mr. Jobs’s room through the connecting door?” Buckner asked.
“No, I’m not saying that. I did go into Calvin’s room through the connecting door. But I didn’t kill him.”
“If not to kill him, why did you access the room?” Buckner asked. “Keep in mind, one of the prints we found was bloody.”
Brown let out a long groan. “It wasn’t supposed to go down the way it did. I was just trying to help, but everything went wrong.”
“Explain,” Buckner demanded.
Connor Brown hung his head. He ran his hands through his hair. I could see he was struggling with a decision. Eventually, he began to speak. “Calvin got himself into trouble with some bad people.”
“What kind of trouble?” Buckner asked.
“He worked for this guy who ran a jewel theft ring. I don’t know all the details, but basically, he was paid to smuggle gems through customs by replacing the fake ones on his jackets with the real thing. At first it was small jobs, replacing one or two stones at a time that could easily be hidden among all the fake stuff, but then the guy got more demanding, and Calvin felt the risk to him was increasing out of hand. He wanted out, but the guy wouldn’t let him go, so he came up with the idea of faking his own death.”
Brown paused.
“Go on,” Deputy Buckner encouraged.
“Calvin couldn’t pull off the stunt alone, so he paid me twenty grand to help him. We had a good plan, or at least it seemed like we did.”
“Describe the plan in detail, starting from the beginning.”
“I’ll do my best.” Brown tapped his chin, as if that would engage his memory. “We knew for it to work we’d need a believable witness. We wouldn’t be able to provide a body, but we figured if we had a witness who actually saw Calvin dead, the cops would investigate. It had to be someone who didn’t already know Calvin, so we decided to look for a target in town after the fireworks show on the Fourth. We ended up in a bar with a whole lot of other people. Calvin lucked out and found a senior woman he thought would make a convincing witness, then struck up a conversation with her. I invited them both to a party where Calvin could get her liquored up and check her out as a possibility. He asked her back to his room and gave her a little something to make her sleep in her drink. He set the scene with the fake knife and the fake blood. Calvin said the drug he gave the old dame would wear off after four or five hours. The plan was for me to wait until he knocked on the connecting door, letting me know she was coming around, and he’d get into place. When I heard the knock I was supposed to crack the connecting door and wait for her to come to.”
“Is that what you did?” Buckner asked.
He nodded. “I responded with my own knock when I heard Calvin’s, then waited about five minutes. I cracked the door open to make sure Calvin was in place on the bed next to the old woman. Then I watched some TV while I waited for her to begin to stir. It took longer than I thought it would, but I had nothing else going on, so it was fine.”
“So you weren’t watching the woman the entire time?” Buckner asked.
“No. Like I said, I was watching the television, but I kept an ear out for the scream I was expecting to come from the next room.”
Buckner made a few notes. “Okay, then what?”
“My job was to go into the room just after the dame woke up and found Calvin dead so I could take control of the situation. I would be the one to call 911. I was supposed to be the hero and cover for her. I’d convince her the police would suspect her of killing Calvin, but I’d send her on her way, tell her I’d take the fall.”
“What if she didn’t leave?” Buckner asked.
“If I couldn’t get her to go, I had photos of her with Calvin from the night before. If she hung around the police would definitely think she killed him. I guess there still wasn't a guarantee she’d leave, but if she didn’t, I’d have figured something out. As it turned out, the old dame bolted before I could make my move, so I didn’t need to do any of that.”
“Okay, so the witness leaves the room and then what?”
“The plan was for Calvin to disappear.”
“So where did Mr. Jobs go after he left Ashton Falls and how can we reach him now?” Deputy Buckner asked.
“He didn’t leave and you can’t reach him.”
“What do you mean, he didn’t leave? He wasn’t in the room when Ms. Zimmerman returned with her grandmother and he hasn’t been seen all week.”
“What I meant was that he didn’t leave Ashton Falls as planned. He did leave the room, but only because I moved him on account of him being dead.”
I gasped. Dead?
Buckner frowned. “Perhaps you should give me a few more details.”
Brown crossed his arms on the table in front of him. “As I said, the plan was for Calvin to disappear once the old woman saw him dead on the bed. When she took off on that pink Harley of hers, I made a comment about things going as planned, but Calvin didn’t say anything. When he didn’t move after a few more minutes I tried to rouse him, but he was deader than a doornail.”
“How did he die?” Buckner asked.
Brown shrugged. “Beats me. He looked fine. Physically, I mean. He didn’t have any gunshot wounds or anything. He looked real peaceful. Like he was sleeping.”
“And where’s the body now?”
Connor Brown hesitated. “Is it against the law to bury a body even if you absolutely aren’t responsible for it being dead?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Dang. Guess I should have done things a little different. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone or break any laws. I was just trying to help a friend. I think maybe I might have made a mess of things.”
I looked at Zak with what I was sure was an expression of shock on my face. Talk about a twist. A man cooked up an elaborate scheme to fake his own death onl
y to end up dead? I wondered why. And I wondered whether someone had killed him or if he’d had a heart attack and faded away. I tapped on the glass. I knew I wasn’t supposed to do that, but I had a question I wanted to be sure was answered.
Buckner excused himself and came into the room where Zak and I were waiting. “I told you not to do that.”
“I know. But I wanted to be sure you asked about Calvin’s possessions. His luggage, and especially his costumes.”
“You think someone killed him to get the costumes?”
“It makes sense,” I pointed out.
“Maybe, but the timing is off. Jobs knocked on the door to let Brown know Nona was waking up. He got into place. If he died at that point, there was no way a third party could have come into the room.”
“Maybe, but just ask. The costumes feel like the key to figuring everything out.”
“Okay, I’ll ask. But from now on, remember that waiting quietly means waiting quietly.”
Buckner returned to the interrogation room. He asked my question as promised, along with a bunch of others relating to Calvin Jobs’s death.
“So after you tried to wake Jobs and found out he was actually dead, what did you do?” Buckner asked Brown.
“First, I freaked out. I mean, like big-time meltdown. Here I was, wanting to help the guy have a second start in life and he was dead? How could that have happened? It made no sense. I didn’t see or hear a struggle of any kind. How can a man just lay down and die?”
“An autopsy should tell us that. What I’d like to know is what you did after you found him dead?”
“After I finished freaking out I knew I had to move and move quickly, so I wrapped Calvin in the plastic he’d put down under the sheet to protect the mattress from the fake blood, then moved him into my room. I traded out the bloody sheets on his bed with my own clean ones.”
“So you must have done all this before Ms. Zimmerman arrived with her grandmother.”
Brown nodded. “Once I made the decision to move Calvin I was real quick. By the time the old dame showed up with her granddaughter, the room was as spotless as it would have been if no one had ever been there.”