by Lane Stone
By the time I finished giving everyone an update on Mother, Victoria was back. “I just looked at my watch. Do you think you two could hold down the fort while we go feed our dogs and take them out for potty breaks? Leigh, if you’d like we can take care of Abby.”
Holding down the fort was a job and the aunts were on it.
I arched my back to stretch. “No, I’ll go with you.”
“And get something to eat while you’re gone,” they yelled behind us.
I was surprised to see it was dark outside as we headed to Vic’s car. “Leigh, are you okay leaving? That was a client and we can handle it.”
“I need some fresh air.” The truth was that I was numb and scared by something I couldn’t control and needed something I could understand. “And Abby does need a break.”
“We’re going to the Mall of Georgia, so we can take her with us. He works there and the client wants us to follow him when he leaves. She thinks he’s been meeting up with someone else who works there, and in the parking lot.”
I was back on home ground. “Obviously, she’s been tracking the odometer. Pass me that photograph.”
After studying the face of our intended object, I tried the phone number Jack had used during his flight. The number was for a domestic phone, but the ring sounded like an international line, with that lower tone, longer duration burr. Perhaps calls were routed through that number. I let the noise mesmerize me and kept listening after it became evident no one would answer. Then I hung up and sent him an email and a text. As we got closer to my subdivision I made a point of noticing what the sign to Gary Pirkle Park said, and the r’s were still missing.
“He needs a code name. How about Mall Male?”
“Works for me.” Tara was logging notes into the iPad. “Leigh, be sure to bring the night vision goggles.”
Victoria pulled in to my driveway. “Don’t you think security might suspect us of something if we wore those in public? Our camera can be set for shooting at night.”
“We can use them while we’re sitting in the car.”
I went in to get Abby and left them debating this. When I came back out with her, fed and empty, they were placing a wager on who would make out who was feeding information to Janice Marshall first: Tara, with her listening devices or Victoria, with her speech match program.
“Here’s the folder for the hearing tomorrow.” I passed it up to Tara. She took it and glanced at Victoria. I held onto the hope that my mother would improve; but none of us knew what the night would bring.
***
Looking for Mall Male on foot gave Abby some exercise, but it was chilly. We were each covering a different exit.
Tara’s voice came through loud and clear. “Paula, do you read me?”
“You are Paula,” Victoria whispered.
“Oh, shit. Anyway, I’ve spotted Mall Male. He’s coming around the corner by P. F. Chang’s and not alone.”
We fanned out. Victoria had the camera. I had Abby by the leash. Vic took a photograph of him and his female companion getting into a car. There was a flash and he looked around but didn’t see anything disquieting, or at least I didn’t think he had. They fogged up the windows of the little Honda pretty quick and she took a photo of that too.
I walked around the car, leaned over and looked into the side mirror. They were shocked and when she opened the door to see what this crazy woman was doing I said, “Guess what? Objects really are closer than they appear.” My only excuse for saying that, or anything, to him was that I couldn’t control what was going on with my mother but this fool was causing his own problems.
Victoria photographed the look on their faces. The next part I still don’t understand. He got out of the car and ran at me. At moi. Abby isn’t exactly what you call ferocious, and I used what I had. Locking the retractable leash, so it would maintain its length, I tossed it to Tara. I threw it high, so it would cross his arms, which were now bare, not his jeans. He ran into the line. “Throw it back to me.” She did, like it was a hot potato. That’s how you clothesline somebody the Tiara Investigations way.
He looked at his bleeding arms in amazement. “Hey!”
“That’s a little something I learned in prison.” The closest I’ve come to being imprisoned was a seaweed wrap that was more than I had bargained for, but he didn’t need to know that. I unhooked Abby and we walked his trussed up ass back to his car and shoved him in. The passenger gawked at us. We walked off and behind me I heard her door open and then slam shut. I needed to be back at Gwinnett General.
Victoria checked her rearview mirror a couple of times to be sure Mall Male wasn’t following us out of the parking lot.
I had checked my watch as we pulled away and noted that on the document for the case on the iPad. “I hope his wife doesn’t want to meet in the morning.”
Six months or so ago, we changed our procedure on cases where the husband knows he’s been caught. We got tired of the husband knowing the facts on the ground before her. I read Tara her phone number so she could call her and tell her we were finished.
“If she does, Vic and I can handle it.”
“No, you can’t. We all have to be at the courthouse at eight o’clock.”
Then we were quiet while Tara gave her the cryptic message. They talked for a few minutes. “She’s going to a girlfriend’s house because she doesn’t want to see his face when he comes in. I’ve got a few text messages from Paul. He wants to know where we are and if we want him to take Abby to stay at my house with Stephie. He’s at the hospital now and the aunts told him we’d gone to your house and to eat. What should I write back?”
“Tell him––” That’s as far as I got before her phone rang.
“It’s Paul.”
“Tell him we’ll bring Abby to the hospital.”
Tara relayed that and then they talked for a few more minutes. She repeated, “Oh, my,” over and over, then hung up. “He needs to leave the hospital. Your aunts found out he’s an OB-GYN and they’re going over every labor pang they ever had with him.”
“That’s wise of him.” His presence at the hospital wasn’t the only reason we needed to use our alone time wisely. “Let’s talk before we get back to the inquisitors. The more I think about that message, the less it sounds like a threat. Buford Dam. Intermittent denial of service. First step. It could be instructions for all we know.”
“Which makes it that much more important to figure out who was prompting her to say it.” Tara looked out her side mirror.
“Something else has been bothering me. Is it just me or did Bryn Marie seem to know what was written before we told her?” I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Don’t go getting all J. Edgar Hoover on us,” Victoria said.
“I know what you mean, Leigh. It didn’t look like it took her by surprise.” Tara was clicking away on the keyboard of her phone. “But only Thomas Chestnut and the three of us saw it.”
“His killer would have seen it. I understood from Bryn Marie that it was Asher Charles who told her about the napkin.”
Victoria put up her stop sign hand. “No, we asked if it was a good looking guy and she agreed. His name wasn’t mentioned.”
“She did say someone from Homeland Security had been around and she said he’d been there on Sunday night.” I pulled Abby into my lap. “We said it was a note. I’ll send her an email and confirm it was him.”
“Leigh, do you mind if I take my computer in with me to work on this?”
“Not at all. You really don’t have to stay.”
That was a nonstarter, so instead of answering Tara changed the subject. “We forgot to eat! I’ll phone in a takeout order at Cracker Barrel.”
Vic handed her cell phone over. “It’s on speed dial and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
Tara took care of that matter of business, and then her own phone rang again. “It’s Asher. I’ll ask if he’s had any luck finding Janice Marshall, since we talked last.”
“What
do you mean you still can’t find her?! Leigh Googled her name and found one in Boston.” Then to us, “He still can’t find Janice Marshall.”
Victoria signaled to turn into the hospital parking lot. “We got it. Can’t they put out a dragnet?”
Tara giggled. “He said to tell you, no. And they can’t find Car 54 either.” Then she texted Paul to come out and take Abby from us.
As we ate our dinners on our laps, I emailed Bryn Marie. Homeland Security agent told you about the intermittent denial of service note, right?
I put Abby’s leash on her and handed it to Paul. She stood up on her back legs and nestled her face into my legs. I gave her a hug and ran my hand down her back. It felt warm and I wanted to stay like that, but my phone signaled a new message.
Right. It was from Bryn Marie.
Was his name Asher Charles? I wrote back.
Yes. Or maybe Charles Asher.
CHAPTER 18
Continuation of statement by Leigh Reed. Aunt Thelma and Aunt Gussie let us relieve them and we were even able to talk Aunt Opal and Aunt Mary into waiting until the morning for their shifts to begin. Their news was that Dr. Gale and the consulting neurologist, who was smart, but not as smart as Victoria’s husband, and tall, but not as tall as Victoria’s husband, had said the MRI confirmed what he’d told me earlier. Being numb put me beyond the reach of this latest blow.
I walked into the hallway. Shorty was standing at the nurses’ station. When he saw me, he walked up and put his hand on my shoulder. “Did you get the report from the neurologist?”
I nodded.
“Do you understand?”
I nodded that I understood, as much of it as I was able to, that is. “What will happen next?” From some place at a distance, I watched myself asking this question.
“I can’t give you a time frame. She may become unresponsive if the bleed progresses.”
“What does that mean?”
“She will probably stop speaking. She may develop further neurological impairment.”
I thanked him and went back to her bed.
The reason older people have such amazing blue eyes is so you can’t stop looking at them. I looked in my mother’s eyes and I thought, thank you for everything.
Her eyes said, “No thanks are necessary. Thank you for everything.”
“No thanks are necessary. I’m sorry for everything.”
“No apology is necessary. I’m sorry for everything.”
“No apology is necessary.” The one chair in the room was pulled up to her bedside. I sat down and rested my head on her arm. I don’t really know how long I was there.
When I came out, the hospital had calmed down to rest for the night. In our little waiting room, Victoria looked up from her computer. Tara’s head jerked up too. Together they said, “It’s Asher Charles’ voice!”
“You figured it out at the same time.” I had to chuckle at that. “Asher Charles, huh?”
“Yeah?”
I froze in the doorway. “Is he right behind me?” Vic and Tara nodded. Slowly I turned to face a man that might or might not be a killer. What the hell, I was in a hospital. How bad could it get? “How did you know Thomas Chestnut had written Buford Dam, Intermittent denial of service, First step on a napkin?”
“I didn’t.” He looked wide-eyed with adoration at Tara.
“You repeated it to Bryn Marie Leandro from the Army Corps of Engineers.” I moved into the waiting room because when someone is that good looking you shouldn’t stand too close. It would be like looking directly into the sun.
Tara stood. “But you knew the lines because they originally came from you. You told Janice Marshall to say them on the phone to Thomas Chestnut, didn’t you? How do you know Janice Marshall?”
“She’s my former girlfriend.”
I did not see that coming. How could someone who dated her, later be interested in someone who looked like Tara? And acted like Tara? “Her? She’s so tiny. She’s like a runt.”
“I’m standing right here, you know.”
And so she was. That was awkward. She moved to the side and glared at Tara, even though I was the one who had just called her a runt. It was like getting away with murder.
Victoria stood up. “Tara, ear muffs!” She yanked her UGA ear muffs off.
“I’m looking for Leigh Reed. I believe her mother is a patient here.” The sonorous voice of Detective Kent floated our way from down the hall.
“Look here, visiting hours are way past.” The young nurse tried to sound authoritative, but the pleading tone was still there.
He leaned over the counter and smiled at her. “It’s okay.”
“Jerry! You’re being bad!” Paige Ford was standing beside Jerry and giggling. She wore strappy sandals with three inch heels and tight jeans cuffed just above the ankle. Polished toe nails + calling him Jerry = Mrs. Ford had slept with Detective Kent. He walked and she wobbled to our little home away from home.
Tara leaned out to see who was talking. “If you can’t walk ‘em, don’t rock ‘em.”
“Leigh, how is your mother?”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I sidestepped Detective Kent’s question. “Did you take care of Mr. Chestnut’s gun?”
“Yeah, but not before we took out the dishwasher.”
Paige giggled and came up on her toes. “I jumped right into his arms!”
“I’ll bet you did.” Victoria sat on the arm of the sofa next to where Tara stood. Asher moved to stand at Tara’s other side.
“Silly….” Paige Ford giggled for two seconds before deciphering the look on my face and thinking better of it. I was not in the mood. She needed to say what she had to say, then leave. “My father didn’t modify the gun himself. Someone he knew did.”
“Who?” Hadn’t she referred to her dad’s reconfiguration? Had we misinterpreted what she said, or had she deliberately mislead us?
“A friend of his.”
“Do you have a name?” Victoria knew where I was going with this and so did Detective Kent. He’d been looking at Tara and jerked his head back to me.
“No, but I think he knew him from CDC,” Paige said.
“That’s the opposite of what you told us earlier. Ms. Marshall?” It took a second to get her attention because she was glaring at Asher and Tara. “What’s the name of the guy in the office next to yours, who was fired?”
“Beats me.”
“Dr. Charles, why didn’t you say you knew Thomas Chestnut on Friday when you saw his body?” I had never heard that tone in Victoria’s voice. I was glad I wasn’t Asher.
“We’d talked on the phone and emailed, but I’d never seen him before.”
“We said his name right in front of you, and you must have heard it fifty times in the days since.” I stretched my arms toward him, both palms up.
“To use your words, it was awkward.” He couldn’t meet my eyes.
All of a sudden I was sick of them. I was sick of it all. I turned on Asher. “Your little Janice Marshall isn’t innocent! She was involved in stealing Thomas Chestnut’s body. I’m guessing to get that chip back.”
“Please. Do I look like I could pick up a dead body?”
“The two guys I walked in on did the heavy lifting.” Literally and figuratively.
“Why did you need the chip? To keep it from being traced back to you or to whom?”
She gave me a pout that said for me to know and you to find out.
I turned to face Detective Kent. “You need to take them in. All three have a lot of questions to answer.”
“Yes, they do. The chip was contaminated with atropine. That’s what killed him.” He reached for his mobile phone attached to his belt.
“Asher, do-o-o something. I was only trying to help.”
“Did she say hyelp?” Tara looked at Victoria then me.
“It sounded like hylep to me.” Victoria could be so funny, and she wasn’t as mad as she had been.
“Who? Who were you trying to help?”
That was still me, sounding like a Sergeant Major.
“Him.” Janice pointed at Asher. “I moved here about a month ago to be with him. And I introduced him to Thomas Chestnut. How was I supposed to know he would go get himself killed?”
“So inconsiderate,” I said.
“Jerry, can’t we come in later this morning? You have my word. We will be there.”
Detective Kent put his phone away. What the hell? I was going to say what I had to say and then get back in to see my mother. I pointed at Ms. Marshall. “You and Paige need to leave. Wait for them in the lobby.”
Paige drew herself up to her full height, indignant at being summarily dismissed. Didn’t care. I didn’t care! Janice Marshall took one last look at Asher and stormed off.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few.” Detective Kent spoke to Paige but didn’t look her in the eye.
“Wait, Paige. What does your husband think of you staying out all night?”
“Nothing. He’s in jail.”
I looked at Detective Kent. “For?”
“Al Ford was arrested for planting and detonating the explosive device at the Porsche dealership.”
“Which he learned how to do when he worked on SCIFs,” Paige said. “In the design phase, the mockups had to be tested to see if they were bomb proof. So he had access to bomb making material.”
“Let him go.” All eyes shot to me when I said that. You would have thought I said, “Let him go.”
“Why?” screeched Al’s loving wife.
“He didn’t do it. We know he keyed Tara’s car, but he didn’t plant the bomb.” I wasn’t about to explain the rest in front of those losers.
Tara came and stood next to me. “Why would he scratch my car the way he did?”
Detective Kent leaned down and took her shoulders. “Because he thought it was my car.”
“That’s even more stupid. You’re a police detective. Sorry, no offense,” I said.
“None taken.” For the first time I noticed that when Detective Kent smiles his eyes have a little twinkle. Don’t take me wrong now, I still hate him.
“And why would he think it was your car?” As I was talking I heard Paige’s shoes on the floor behind me and turned to see her backing away. “You told your husband the Porsche belonged to Detective Kent, didn’t you?”