The Well - Book One of the Arizona Thriller Trilogy

by Sharon Sterling

  When Allie entered the large, three story building she reminded herself that it was a waste of energy to hate hospitals. They were unavoidable, like public toilets and graveyards.

  This one shed fluorescent light on colorful walls and clean floors in an obvious attempt at cheerfulness. Colored lines on the floors of the corridors indicated different destinations.

  Follow the yellow brick road echoed nonsensically in her head as she followed her color to the general medical ward, then to the room number given to her at the nursing station.

  The bed nearest the door was unoccupied. Kim lay in the one near the window. When she turned her head to see Allie enter, Allie swallowed a gasp. The beautiful Indian princess was now a bandaged wreck lying supine amid bandages, tubes and tangled sheets.

  “Hi, Allie. Don’t mind me. I’m just rehearsing for the next mummy movie.”

  Allie quickly put the ivy plant she had brought on the window sill, and went to grasp Kim’s hand. “Thanks for letting me come to see you.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t forget all about me since I’m not coming for counseling any longer.”

  “When we talked on the phone, you--I didn’t know it was this bad, Kim.” The eyes she looked into had been blackened. Now the tender flesh was healing, it had turned a sick shade of greenish yellow. The proud nose was swollen shapeless. The skin on Kim’s high cheekbones appeared bruised and cut. One leg encased in plaster lay atop the covers. The one beneath the bed clothes was thick with bandages. A catheter tube coiled over the mattress to drip urine into a plastic container placed discreetly under the bed. Another tube suspended from a metal stand dripped fluid into the patient’s arm.

  Kim said, “It looks worse than it is. The broken femur doesn’t hurt much any more. The bullet wound in my other leg is healing. The concussion isn’t making me dizzy or nauseous any more. The worst is the ribs. They’re still telling me not to breathe, but it’s hard to obey.” She smiled then winced, emphasizing the reality of her pain. “Just don’t make me laugh.”

  Allie sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I wouldn't think of it. Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need right now?”

  “Just your company. The nurses take care of me but it’s nice to be able to talk to someone about something besides my grosser bodily functions or my pain level. Numbers from one to ten will have a different connotation from now on.”

  Allie smiled at her, then sobered. “I heard Upshall is dead. Is it really all over now, Kim?”

  “For sure. Revenge isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All those Die Hard movies and television shows make it look like fun, don’t they?”

  “Worse, they imply it’s a reasonable course of action, a logical next step after a tragedy. So…for you…no more instrument of karma?”

  “How can I enforce a universal law, a spiritual law like karma when I don’t understand it? I’ve had time to think about a more realistic plan for my life. I thought about going into counseling like you. What I really think I'm suited for is law enforcement. Or maybe something in the medical field.”

  “Like a police woman? Or a doctor?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. It could happen. I like helping people. I don’t have a criminal record and if I get a degree in criminal justice I could....”

  “Yes, of course. Why not? I know how determined you are, Kim. I believe anything you really want to do is a done deal.”

  “You know, things have a strange way of working out. Yesterday a lawyer called Crystal. Seems that thirty years ago, when Upshall was married he and his wife took out life insurance policies. He made his wife the beneficiary of his policy with Crystal the contingent beneficiary. Crystal was two years old at the time, but I guess he named her because he had no other relatives.

  “That's strange.”

  “He never had children. When his wife died, he didn't change the beneficiary. So now, Crystal gets the money. The attorney told her that since he died intestate, she’ll get the bulk of his estate. I think Upshall forgot about the insurance policy. He probably didn't think he'd ever die, so why bother with a will?”

  “That is a very strange turn of events. But wonderful for Crystal.”

  “At first she said she wouldn’t accept a penny of his money, but her Aunt Iva and her husband talked some sense into her. Now they’re talking about buying a bigger house so her aunt can move in with them. She’s going to see a dentist about getting her teeth straightened. She says she’s going to help me with college tuition. I’m considering letting her do it.”

  ***

  On the following Saturday the phone rang as Allie carried an armful of clean sheets to the bedroom. It was Heidi, who said that she and Mike had the day off. They wanted Allie to bring Bob to have lunch with them in Old Town.

  Allie and Heidi rarely found free time together and Allie loved Old Town. “I know Bob isn’t working today,” she said. “Give us an hour. We’ll meet you there.”

  She turned back to make the bed. She enjoyed the scent of lavender linen spray on the sheets as well as the burst of color when the bright spread settled and she smoothed it into place. She piled on the four pillows, then arranged the stuffed rabbit against them, one 'arm' under its head in a jaunty pose.

  She finished by tidying the room. Lining up her small library of books on top of the dresser, she remembered the message she had received from the I Ching about Doctor V. At the time it hadn’t made sense,'...innocent, without guile...ulterior designs will meet with the unintentional or unexpected.'

  Now she knew just how devious and ulterior Ralph VanDeusen had been and how unexpected the consequences for him.

  Men, men, manly men. The theme song from a popular TV show floated through her mind, bringing thoughts of her new relationship with her ex-husband, and then thoughts about Bob.

  Bob was quiet but so understanding and patient, so easy to talk with, to be with. When she found herself humming another popular song she realized she was happy today, but something more. She felt a sense of satisfaction, of completion.

  She drove the familiar stretch of Highway 89 until it became Main Street. She met Bob, Heidi and Mike at the Dillydally Deli, which advertised kosher Mexican food and bagels in twenty flavors.

  Like many of the shops and restaurants in this restored section of town, it had character. Little more than a hole in the wall, built in the Prohibition era with a brick façade, it's now-ancient hardwood floors and high ceiling lined with hammered tin impressed her with a sense of history. The décor smacked of Early Salvation Army, half a dozen small wooden tables served by twenty or so painted wooden chairs, not one of which matched any other.

  “My kind of place except it’s not real private,” said Mike, as they started to enter.

  “Let’s get it to go.”

  “We’ll take it to the park,” Bob agreed. He and Mike had established a cordial relationship after the first double date with Heidi and Allie.

  “I don’t need to look at the menu,” Heidi said. “The bagel specialty sandwiches are the best.”

  Mike opted for a Santa Fe bagel with beans, corn and shredded beef. Allie chose a Baja bagel with guacamole, tomato and sliced turkey. Bob wanted the kosher pastrami con queso. Heidi joked that she would flirt with danger by ordering a Mexicali bagel with shredded beef and jalapeno peppers.

  While the owner/chief cook and bottle washer prepared and bagged the order, they chatted with him. He was a small, wiry man with a perpetual smile that said he felt inordinately pleased with his customers, himself and the whole world. He was an unmistakable transplant from the East, evidenced by a Brooklyn accent that offered, among other things, a “cwupp-a-cwafee,” and that dairy spread, “buttah.”

  “Coffee, you ordered coffee?” said Allie, looking at Heidi in surprise.

  “Yup. Lately my nerves have settled to a pleasant hum on work days, instead of a roar and a jangle.”

  They strolled with bagged lunch in hand toward the little pocket park nearby, the site
for their impromptu picnic. It was a place to enjoy this cool but sunny, light jacket day when being out doors felt as natural as breathing. Allie was comfortable in her walking shoes, jeans and boiled wool sweater over a turtleneck jersey.

  Heidi and Allie walked together looking into the shop windows, while the men followed. Heidi appeared fascinated by the art galleries, antique shops, and gift shops. They displayed an amazingly eclectic range of paintings, sculptures, tie-dyed clothing, incense and bric-a-brac.

  Passing the old jail, built in 1929, Bob gave them a brief history report. It had once held bootleggers, obstreperous miners, drunks and the odd vagrant. It was now the Visitor’s Center.

  “Did you make it to the Chocolate Walk in December?” Heidi asked Allie.

  “No, missed the Chocolate Walk. I’m putting it on my calendar for next year. The Old Town Association has wine tasting, salsa sampling, and a farmers’ market on the calendar too.”

  “So that means you’ll still be here next year, right?”

  “I’m not positive yet. The offer from the National Health Service is a good one but there are probably other ways--legal ways I could pay off my college loans.”

  By unspoken agreement, they were in no hurry to reach their park destination set on the banks of a stream that was one of many seasonally flowing waterways that fed the Verde River. The park featured one picnic bench in a lawn-sized plot of grass that was a rare luxury in this arid region.

  They emptied their wrapped food to spread the bags as place mats on the table before they began to eat. After a few bites accompanied by 'uuummms' of appreciation, Heidi sipped her hot coffee. She looked at Allie with raised eyebrows. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, I have a master’s degree and a license. That must mean I have all the answers. Half of my clients think I do anyway. The other half are gravely disappointed that I don’t.”

  “Well, then answer me this, oh Oracle. Did you have anything to do with that new receptionist? Because she’s great, a drastic improvement over poor old Wanda.”

  “Yes, I suspect I did. I talked to the office manager about Wanda. A few days later, she started interviewing for someone new. I also take credit for that new security system, the red number.” She turned to Mike and Bob to explain, “It’s a separate number with a red button on all the phones. If it rings, the receptionist knows it’s an emergency. She can tell from the extension number which therapist it is so she can send help.”

  “Score two for you,” said Heidi.

  Mike put down his sandwich then wiped his mouth. “Sounds like a good system.”

  Bob said, “For a while there, I thought I’d have to lend you my gun, or maybe my watch dog, Allie.”

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, she told us about Upshall, too. I’ll allow as how Cottonwood is a little safer and a lot happier now he’s gone.”

  “I never did get any real details from the newspapers. What happened out there? ” Heidi asked, lifting her chin toward the mountains.

  Mike followed her eyes. He said, “As near as I can tell, he assaulted some woman up there. Shot her, beat her real bad. Then he managed to stumble into a nest of rattlesnakes. They got his face and hands, took out one of his eyes. Then I guess they went to work on his legs.”

  “Damn!”

  “Yep. By the time they found him, he was as dead and as puffed up as one of those inflatable knock-em-down toys. More venom in his veins than blood.” He picked up his sandwich again, prepared to take the final few bites.

  “How does a person get snake bites on their face?” Allie wondered.

  “Figure he must have fallen down, or been on his hands and knees for some reason. Couldn’t have been for prayin'. That was one bad old cuss. Did things I wouldn't even mention in polite company.”

  Heidi said, “I hear the woman he shot is in pretty bad shape. How did they find them both?”

  “A friend of hers, a Bernita Something-or-other, was hiking to her camp site to pick her up when it happened. She heard the gun shots, and hustled. Danged if I would have hustled toward the sound of gunfire. Anyhow, when she found them she knew he was past help so she just about dragged her friend to the car, drove her down to the hospital. Beat up some, like you said, but she’ll recover.”

  Bob turned to Mike. “He must have been a real coward, doing that to a woman.” Mike just nodded.

  Heidi said, “I’ll bet there weren’t many people paying their last respects when they buried him.”

  Mike’s firm mouth took on a strange, grim line. “What they didn’t put in the newspapers is what they have on him for his worse crimes. Some old lady kept calling the sheriffs department, telling them about some pictures and videos he hid. They didn’t pay it a 'never mind'. But then, someone sent in a memory card from a phone. Enough there to send him away for a good long time. Or to Hell, as it turns out. Sheriff’s got the FBI and Interpol trying to get a handle on the network he hooked up with so they can bring down the other perverts.”

  They were all silent for a moment. Then Heidi glanced at Bob. “Can I have a private minute with Allie?”

  “No problem.” Obligingly, both Bob and Mike strolled away from the picnic table to inspect the nearly dry creek bed.

  “I didn’t want to say it in front of Mike, but I’m glad he’s dead,” Heidi told Allie. “I think he was a child molester from what Mike just said, and from other things I've heard about him.”

  Allie didn't answer immediately. She couldn’t violate her client’s confidentiality but then reasoned she could explain to Heidi without naming Crystal.

  “When you try to counsel victims of sexual abuse, before they can start to heal they need to feel safe. That’s something I learned the hard way. I have a client who was one of his victims. Now that she’s starting to feel safe, she’s beginning to deal with it.”

  “Well I'm glad for her and his other victims that he's gone. Enough about Upshall the Evil. So, have you heard the latest about Doctor V and his wife? They’re closing their practices, moving away.”

  “I hadn’t heard.” Allie raised her eyebrows. “It’s because of all the gossip, isn’t it? The e-mail buzz from all the people on the social services network. They compared notes about his sleazy seductions.”

  “Doctor V and his wife are doing the walk of shame, right out of town. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get his license yanked.” Her smile flashed. She held up her hand for a high-five. Allie’s hand met hers with a loud slap.

  When she stopped smiling, Allie said, “I don’t think he stepped over the line with his patients. From what I’ve gathered, his efforts were never, let’s say, consummated. They were just his way of showing his displeasure with someone, a little game of 'gotcha'. So...?”

  “What? You mean did he ever try to run his little scam on me. No. He liked me!”

  They burst into laughter at the same time. Mike turned to look their way, then winked at Heidi and turned back to talk with Bob.

  Heidi was still not done. “What I can’t figure out is why Sherry went along with that sick game of his. What did she get out of it?”

  “Simple. She got to keep him. After all, he proved to her that he could seduce just about any woman he wanted. I’m sure she likes the prestige of being a doctor’s wife, having an income three times yours and mine put together. Many women would consider him a trophy husband. Knowing that might make her a little insecure. Or maybe she’s twisted enough to enjoy it as much as he does.”

  Allie motioned for Mike to rejoin them then turned to admire the Chinese 'tree of heaven' that grew on the bank of the stream. It was also known by the less imaginative name of Chinese sumac. Allie liked the first name best. She could fantasize a heaven whose streets of gold were lined with magnificent trees like this. It was at least seventy feet tall. In summer, it bore fern-like branches with thin leaves among huge sprays of scarlet blossoms. It made a three-story-tall display of glorious color.

  Indicating the tree, Allie said to the others, “You know, that tr
ee is an invasive species that needs to be eradicated. At least that’s what I read on-line.”

  Mike looked offended. “Dang. I’ve heard so much about invasive species in the past few years. Terrorist attacks by vegetation, for pity sake. You’d think we were under siege from land, sea and air.”

  “In a way we are,” said Bob. “Boa constrictors and wild boars in Florida. New Zealand mud snails in California. Africanized honey bees in the South, Asian long horned beetles in Vermont. We’re in a fight to maintain the status quo. What makes a place unique is its plants and animals, the climate, the terrain, things like that. All these non-native species are stirring the pot, creating havoc in the environment”

  “Maybe it’s a losing battle,” Allie said. “Sure, I don’t relish the fact that the salt cedar trees along the Verde are crowding out native cottonwood. The bufflegrass in southern Arizona is giving them fits, too. They say when there’s a wild fire the bufflegrass burns hotter and causes more destruction of the habitat than the native plants. They say it shouldn’t be there. But hasn’t migration of species been going on since the beginning of time?”

  “Humans, anyway, have managed to migrate to every corner of the globe,” said Heidi. “Maybe ecological balance is an oxymoron.”

  Allie had to contribute something she'd learned from a show on public TV. “Botanists call China the 'mother of gardens' because so many trees, shrubs and flowers we consider ours, American, actually came from China. Like the magnolias in the South. Lots of other flowers too. Forsythia, peonies, primroses.”

  “Even the cherry trees in Washington DC that tourists love so much came from Japan. They were a gift from the emperor almost a hundred years ago, I'm guessing,” Heidi added.

  It occurred to Allie during the conversation that the human race itself was not in ecological balance. Perhaps there was no such thing in a world where people of different races and nationalities inter-married in a myriad of combinations. They produced an infinite variety, a rainbow of skin colors in the human species.