by Joan Rylen
Vivian rested her hand on Larson’s shoulder. “Thanks for the directions. This night isn’t turning out exactly as I’d hoped.”
He stood and took her hand in his, entwining their fingers. “We’ve got a few more days. You have plans tomorrow?”
“I don’t know what we’ve got going on tomorrow. Never know with these girls.”
He grinned. “I’ll be in touch.” He leaned down and kissed her, letting his arms hug all the right places in the process.
She looked up at him, a bit dazed. “Okay.”
Kate grabbed Vivian’s arm and pulled her outside to the car, practically pushing her into the passenger seat.
“Okay, okay, I’ve snapped out of it,” Vivian said.
Kate drove with care, but faster than usual. They swung by a grocery store and Vivian ran in and grabbed a bunch of fresh flowers, then they continued to the hospital. It was just after 10, and Kate found a front-row parking space. The main entrance was locked, so they trekked around to the ER.
Vivian walked up to the attendant behind the desk. Her name badge read Betsy.
She looked at Kate. “May I help you?”
Kate glanced down at her belly, then back to Betsy. “We’re looking for someone who came through here earlier today. Nicole Jones?”
Betsy clicked around on the computer. “She’s no longer in the ER, she’s being admitted. Are you family?”
“No, but we just drove 300 miles to get here. Is there any way we can see her? Even for a few minutes?”
“She’s in a holding unit, basically waiting for a bed, and she can only have two visitors at a time. I believe she may already have two back there.”
“Can we swap places with one of them? Please, we’ve come all this way,” Vivian said. “I just want to check on her. I won’t stay long.”
“Let me go see if they’re okay with that,” Betsy said, getting up.
She walked down the hall and swiped her badge onto the wall. The doors opened and she disappeared around a corner. Two minutes later she returned with a tall, light-skinned, African-American woman.
“Hi, I’m Kandace, Nicole’s sister,” she said, extending her hand. “Are you friends of Nicole’s?”
Vivian introduced their group and explained how they’d met and seen her earlier that afternoon. “Is Nicole all right?”
“The doctor thinks she has E. coli poisoning. Her symptoms are consistent with it but they’re running tests to confirm and rule out some other things. They’re also checking with the health department to see if there have been any other cases recently. Right now she’s severely dehydrated. They’ve given her medication to control her nausea.”
“Poor Nicole,” Kate said. “Do they have the fluid loss under control?”
Kandace shook her head. “At the moment I’d say no. You don’t want to go back there; that’s why I came out here.”
“Does she have any idea where she got this?” Wendy asked.
“None. She had breakfast at home, and she had the same thing the day before. That was all she ate today so she has no idea what it could have been.”
“When did she get sick?” Pierre asked.
“About 3 this afternoon.”
“She was at the B&B late this morning but she seemed fine,” Vivian said.
“Nicole said she was at Jeremy’s house before she came to see us, remember?” Wendy said. “Did she eat anything there?”
Kate swiped a stray hair behind her right ear. “She didn’t say.”
“This is just awful,” Lucy said. “Is there anything we can do for you or her?”
“I appreciate your asking, but no. She just needs to get better.”
Vivian handed Kandace the flowers. “Please give her these and tell her we’re thinking about her.”
“I will. Nice to meet you all.”
The girls and Pierre left the hospital. Kate drove the speed limit all the way to Turlington Farms. They said nothing for a long while, and Kate turned on the radio.
About three miles from the B&B Wendy spoke up. “I can’t help but wonder if this wasn’t accidental. Think about it. She starts looking into Mary Beth’s and Rebecca’s deaths and she suddenly gets sick? Alarm bells are ringing in my head.”
“But who knew what she was doing besides us?” Kate asked.
Pierre had his arm around Lucy in the back seat. “Other newspaper people for sure. Perhaps you can talk to her tomorrow. Maybe help figure out how she ingested the E. coli.”
Kate stopped at a red light. “I wish there was something we could do tonight.”
“I have an idea.” Vivian clicked off the radio. “But it’s kinda illegal.”
36
The light turned green but Kate kept her foot on the brake. Vivian pointed for her to turn left, though they were in the right lane. The car remained stopped.
Vivian looked up and down the street. “No one’s coming. Go! We need to see who would want to hurt Nicole, and the best place to look for information is in her office. It’s to the left. Let’s do this.”
Kate put both hands on the wheel but still didn’t move. “Can’t we get the key from her in the morning?”
“We need to look tonight,” Vivian said and pointed to the left.
“How do you plan to get in her office?” Wendy asked.
“I haven’t figured that out yet, but we’ll know it when we see it.”
“Small town, maybe she left the door unlocked?” Lucy suggested.
“Highly unlikely.” The car behind them honked, and Kate pulled through the intersection, going straight. “I can’t go to jail. I’m pregnant. Can you imagine? ‘Excuse me, do you have a maternity prison outfit?’ I want to help Nicole, but it will have to be with her consent and in the morning.”
“But what if someone is trying to kill her?” Vivian pleaded. “Besides, they’ll get you an extra-large, not maternity.” She poked at Kate and giggled.
Kate was silent, but Vivian could see her brain in overdrive.
“Someone might try to sneak into her hospital room and finish her off. Security in the typical hospital isn’t exactly Fort Knox. It’s more like mall security. I bet I could sneak into any part of that hospital in the middle of the night, if I were a bad guy, and take out a patient, especially a defenseless, doped-up damsel in distress.”
“Let’s not test that,” Pierre said.
Lucy patted Kate’s shoulder. “I vote we go to her office, see what we can see. You can stay in the car if you want.”
Kate sighed. “Why do I listen to y’all?” She made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street, tires squealing.
Everyone screamed, even Pierre.
“You listen because you’re a 1 percenter,” Wendy said and laughed.
“A what?” Vivian asked.
“There’s only 1 percent of the law she doesn’t break, like the biker gangs.”
“Geez, I don’t think so,” Kate said, turning right. “I’d much rather be part of the über rich 1 percent.”
“It’s because you really want to help Nicole and you, like I, suspect she’s in trouble,” Vivian said as they stopped with a jerk in front of the newspaper office.
All the lights were out in the brick building. Everyone sat in the car, unsure what to do.
Vivian continued. “And you bend to peer pressure. For that, we thank you.” She started to get out, but Lucy grabbed her arm.
“How are we going to see anything in there?”
Wendy reached for her purse. “I’ve got a small handy-dandy flashlight in here. That’ll help.”
Pierre opened his door. “I’ll check the front. If it’s locked, I’ll go around back, see if I can find a way in.”
He ran to the front door and tugged, but it didn’t open. He jogged around the corner of the building and was gone for a couple of minutes before returning to the car.
Vivian rolled down her window. “Any luck?”
“There’s an old ventilation fan in the back. It’s running s
lowly so I’d have to stop it, but I think there would be enough space for someone to squeeze through.”
“Not it!” Wendy called.
“Me, neither!” Vivian yelled.
Lucy swatted at both of them. “Y’all haven’t even seen it yet.”
Wendy got out and held the door for Lucy. “We just ate chili. If I get squeezed I’m likely to squeeze out something myself. Nobody wants that.”
“Fine,” Lucy grumbled. “I’m having images of squeezy cheese. I don’t want to see it come to life.”
“I’ll hold down the fort here,” Kate said. “If I see anything suspicious or if someone shows up, I’ll honk.”
The group, minus Kate, went around back, and thankfully the lights were out behind the newspaper building. Vivian looked up and down the alley but didn’t see anyone. They were relatively well hidden.
Pierre pointed to the fan. “I need to find something to wedge in there to stop it turning.” He picked up a wooden pallet and set it underneath the fan, then piled two more on top of it. “This will help.”
The fan was about nine feet up, in the middle of the brick wall. “Can we do this without breaking the fan?” Vivian asked him. “Or Lucy?”
Pierre shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.” He walked to the other end of the old building and around the corner. He came back with a log the length of his arm and the width of a mayonnaise jar. “This should do it.”
“Where’d you get that?” Lucy asked.
“Wood pile at the house across the street,” he answered, then said to Lucy, “I’m going to boost you up. Once you get inside, look for the fan switch and cut it off.”
Wendy handed Lucy her flashlight. “May the Force be with you.”
Pierre jumped onto the pallets and lifted the log. “You should take a few steps back, just in case.” He adjusted the log in his right hand, getting a good feel for the weight distribution, then looked back at the girls. “Here goes nothing.”
In one smooth motion he jumped up, then heaved the log with all his might, reaching up and slamming it between two blades. Bits of wood flew down onto Pierre and the pallets.
Vivian was impressed. The fan motor still hummed but the blades were no longer turning.
Pierre landed awkwardly on the pallets, which caused him to lose his balance. He fell back on his butt and winced. “Ouch.”
“Wow!” Lucy said, reaching to help him up. “That was a Spider Man move if I ever saw one!”
Pierre shoved the pallets aside, leaned against the wall and laced his fingers together. “You ready, Spider Woman?”
Lucy looked up and down the street, not seeing any activity. She focused her attention and planted her right foot in his hands. “As I’ll ever be.”
Wendy and Vivian got on either side, just in case things went awry and she toppled.
Pierre gave Lucy a boost, and with Wendy and Vivian’s help she managed to scramble her way up to where she had both feet on his shoulders, like a cheerleader, but the ledge of the fan was only to her chest. The fan’s four-foot blades looked even bigger up close, and the ledge’s 18-inch depth felt shorter.
I’m going to dive for it, Lucy thought. “Y’all be ready to catch me if this doesn’t work! I’m going to pull myself in.”
Pierre had his hand on the back of her thigh and was holding one of her hands. Vivian and Wendy had their arms outstretched, hands on the sides of Lucy’s legs, helping steady her. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, babe,” he answered. “I’ll boost you up more when you’re ready.”
Lucy let go of his hand and put both palms on the edge. She bent her knees. “Okay, here we go. One, two, THREE!”
She pulled herself up, feeling Pierre’s strength push her forward. She landed on the ledge, square on her tummy, next to the log holding back the blade. Because it was dark inside the building, she couldn’t see down. She squirmed more onto the ledge and lay like that for a minute, letting her legs hang down and catching her breath.
Wendy and Vivian golf clapped from below.
“So far, so good.” Lucy pulled the flashlight from her pocket and shined it into the warehouse below, looking for something to land on. An eight-foot table piled with newspapers was directly beneath her.
Crap, I have no other option.
She stuck the flashlight back into her pocket, then maneuvered herself through the humming fan, getting on her hands and knees. She yelled down, “There’s a table below. I’m going to dangle from the ledge and drop onto it.”
“Are you sure it’s not too far?” Pierre said. “We don’t want any broken legs tonight.”
“I think it will be okay.”
Lucy positioned herself sitting on the ledge. How am I going to do this exactly? She turned around and got on her knees, head between two blades. She began to scoot back, soon dropping her right leg over the edge.
Courage. Courage. Come on, Lucy, you work out six days a week. You can do this!
Then her left arm slipped forward, hitting the wedged log and moving it a tad. The fan blade moved toward her face, but the log held.
Not for long.
“OH SHIT!” she yelled, watching as the log spun free.
Lucy fell into darkness.
37
Lucy crashed onto the table inside the newspaper building feet first, but the papers were slippery, and her feet kept going, so she landed on her ass.
“Lucy! You okay in there?” Pierre yelled, panic in his voice. “Lucy? Are you all right?”
It took her a moment to shake off the fall. “Uhhhh, I think so.” She did a quick check of body parts. “Yes, I’m okay.” She slid off the table, doing another quick check as she stood. Everything seemed to be working.
She checked her pocket for the flashlight, but it wasn’t there. She could make out the back door, two big pieces of equipment in the middle of the room and more tables along the wall. She looked at the table she fell onto and the newspapers she’d knocked everywhere. She got on all fours and crawled around, feeling for the flashlight. Not finding it, she crawled to the table and felt underneath.
Her fingers brushed the flashlight, rolling it just out of her reach. She bent lower and stretched her arm as far as it would go, barely touching the flashlight. She was able to roll it toward her and clutch it in her fist. Finally!
She stood and dusted herself off before clicking it on. The big pieces of equipment she had seen were the printing presses, and the tables along the wall held reams of paper, pens, manila folders and other office supplies. She shined the light toward the back door. Let’s hope there’s not an alarm.
She unlocked the deadbolt and turned the handle, holding her breath. She yanked the door open, ready to run should an alarm sound, but none did.
Pierre stepped in, placing both hands on her cheeks. “That was quite a ruckus.” He slid his hands to her shoulders and down her arms.
“I proved white women can jump, but I also proved we can fall with the best of them.”
She laughed, and the girls walked in.
“Nice job, Wonkita! I’m impressed!” Vivian high-fived her. “I couldn’t have done that.”
“You should have seen Pierre dodge that log!” Wendy said. “But all he cared about was you. It’s sweet.”
Vivian took the flashlight from Lucy. “Unlike the Amazing Maize Maze, this bad boy’s mine. I’ve been here before.” She shined it around the room and tried to remember the layout of things from their visit yesterday. She could make out the doorway to the office.
They made their way around the printing presses to the door separating the printing area from the office. The windowless hallway was pitch black, so Vivian opened the door to the restroom and flipped on the light. She took a minute to let her eyes adjust before walking down the rest of the hallway to the office.
She saw the two wooden desks in the middle of the room and Nicole’s desk centered in front of the window. A green banker’s lamp sat on it, along with a cup full of pens and stacks of notepads.
; “I’ll start with Nicole’s desk,” Lucy said.
Vivian walked to one of the desks in the middle of the room and began opening drawers. Wendy picked up one of Grandpa’s white file boxes. “I’ll take this into the hallway and start going through it. We need to find Grandpa’s heavy hitters list.”
“I’ll help you with that,” Pierre said and picked up a second box.
Vivian pulled the middle drawer of the desk open and shined the light inside. Paper clips, pens, stapler, staples. She shut that and opened the top right drawer. Stationery. Next drawer, blank notebooks. Top left drawer held a stack of Lake Placid Brewery coasters. What the heck? The drawer below that was empty.
Vivian moved on to the next desk but didn’t find anything significant. She walked over to Lucy, who was looking through a file.
“Anything good?” she asked.
“Brandon’s file was on top of Nicole’s desk. I think we need to take it back to the B&B with us. This sucker is thick, and we don’t need to leave the light on long enough to go through it now.”
“Good idea.” Vivian looked around the room and saw Nicole’s big, chrome briefcase beside her desk. “It’s got locks, but let’s see if we can put the file in here.”
Lucy tried the latches, and they clicked open. She raised the lid and took out a pile of files. “April Robinson, Jeremy Donaldson, Mike Grimm, Tracy Holt.”
“Tracy? What’s in that file?” Vivian asked.
Lucy opened it and read a few pages. “She bartended at the Lake Placid Brewery and dated a guy named Scott Erickson. Says he was a plumber who took off to Omaha.”
“What’s in Omaha?” Vivian asked, baffled. Why would you leave the beautiful Adirondacks for the Midwest?
“He went to work for his uncle out there.”
“This folder’s different,” Vivian said. “It’s purple. And that’s not Grandpa’s bad handwriting. The folder itself looks newer.”
“Maybe Nicole started this file?” Lucy said. She flipped through two more pages, then put all of the files in the case and shut it, careful not to change the combination on the locks.
Vivian opened the door to the hallway and shined the light toward the group in the restroom. “Any luck in there?”