“I’d better go now.”
As Casey left the common room, she noticed the boys’ furtive glances. Justin wasn’t at the table, which was just as well. She didn’t want to be asked for any favors.
Casey headed down the corridor. If Mac was going to let her go, then she might as well get it over with. She knocked on his door and peered through the window. She could see Mac in profile; he was seated but leaning forward as if searching for something on the floor. His thermos was on its side, coffee spilling out of it. Casey opened the door and stepped inside.
“Mac?” The unmistakable sound of retching greeted her.
He gripped the edge of the desk like he was about to keel over. Casey hurried over to him, avoiding the chunky puddle by his feet. She glanced at the door that connected Mac’s office to the conference room. It stood ajar, revealing that the room was dark.
“Do you need a doctor? Should I call 911?”
His eyes were unfocused, his expression confused. “My pills.”
“Where are they?”
Mac closed his eyes and grimaced. “Jacket.”
The jacket was draped over the back of his chair. Casey scrambled through his pockets until she found a small bottle labeled DIGOXIN. “How many do you need?”
“One.” He clamped his hand on his chest and mumbled, “Tanya, Justin.”
“They’re back in their units.” As she tried to open the bottle, Mac groaned as if in agony. “Help!” She shouted toward the open office door. “I need help in here!” Casey pushed down hard on the bottle lid, twisted, and pulled. The lid popped off, spilling pills everywhere. “Shit!” She tapped a pill from the bottle and grabbed the thermos. There was just enough liquid left in it to wash the pill down. She placed the pill in Mac’s mouth and poured the coffee in. Mac swallowed, groaned again, and slumped to the side.
“Oh, no!”
“What happened?” Rawan said from the doorway, her eyes wide. “I was signing out a visitor when I heard you yell.”
“I think Mac’s having a heart attack. I gave him the pill he asked for, but I don’t think it’s working!”
Rawan grabbed Mac’s radio. “Code yellow, director’s office! Code yellow, director’s office.”
Casey wished she’d thought of that. Mercedes’s Latino visitor appeared in the doorway.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Are you a doctor?” Casey asked.
“No.” He stared at Mac. “What happened?”
“Possible heart attack,” Casey replied. “We need to call 911.”
“I’m on it.” Rawan dialed. Once she described the situation to the dispatcher, she turned to Casey. “They want to know what you gave him.”
“One digoxin pill from the bottle in his pocket.” She checked Mac’s pulse. “There’s no pulse!” She looked at the Latino. “Can you help me get him on the floor?”
He maneuvered Mac’s upper body while Casey tackled his legs. Rawan was still on the phone when Mia appeared with the first aid kit.
“I have level two first aid,” Mia said, kneeling next to Mac. “Casey, keep people out of here.”
“Okay.” She and the man stepped outside.
Standing in front of the door, Casey tried to avoid answering visitors’ questions. Oh, god, had she contributed to Mac’s condition? Had she not given him enough pills, or the wrong pill? What if there’d been a second bottle in another pocket? She hadn’t searched the inside pockets before she found the digoxin. Casey began to feel clammy and lightheaded. The suffocating heat in this building didn’t help.
She wasn’t surprised to see the fire department arrive. They often showed up first in medical emergencies. Rawan, who’d returned to reception, buzzed them in. Casey waved them over. A couple of minutes later, she did the same for the paramedics. While everyone piled into the office, Casey leaned against the wall next to reception and sank down on her haunches.
“Come to my office,” Rawan said to her.
Casey let Rawan help her up and take her to a chair by the desk.
Rawan then collapsed into her own chair. Her olive skin looked flushed. She drummed her long pink nails on the desk.
“I had no idea Mac had a serious heart condition,” Casey said.
“We found out a couple of months ago. He has a weak heart muscle or something. I don’t know. Mac doesn’t like talking about it.”
“He looked exhausted tonight.”
“I know. He had an attack last month, but the pills helped that time.”
Rawan got up and tended to the departing visitors while Casey sat there feeling useless. Should she return to Winson’s unit, or wait here for news?
She had no idea how much time had passed when Mia appeared in the doorway, her face ashen. “Mac didn’t make it,” she said.
SEVEN
“OH, NO.” CASEY’S STOMACH ROILED and nausea overwhelmed her. Maybe she should have given Mac more than one pill, given the severity of his attack. Would it have saved him?
“Casey, maybe you can see if Winson needs help,” Mia said. The steely determination she’d shown earlier had dissolved into resignation. “Word will be out soon, if it isn’t already. The news will send some of the kids off the deep end.”
“Where’s Amir?” Rawan asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Mia’s expression hardened. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s the most senior staff on duty, so he should be the one to call Mac’s wife.”
“Indeed,” Mia remarked. “We wouldn’t want the wife to be the last to know.”
Casey saw the icy exchange but didn’t care. All she could think about was her blundered attempt to save Mac. She walked past the visitors’ area. Judging from the tense, expectant faces, Casey doubted they’d heard the news. The Latino man and Mercedes sat at a table and talked quietly. Paramedics and firefighters still hovered in and around Mac’s office, preventing anyone from seeing what was happening. Casey walked slowly, her steps sluggish. Everything felt out of kilter, surreal.
She’d almost reached Unit Two when Kendal stepped out of Unit One. “What’s going on?”
Casey moved closer and whispered, “Mac had a heart attack and died.”
“No way!”
“I tried to help him.” Casey took a deep breath and began to describe what had happened. She stopped talking when Roxanne stepped out from behind Kendal.
“The old man’s dead?” the girl asked.
Oh, crap. “Please go back inside,” Casey replied.
Roxanne shook her head, her dreadlocks swinging back and forth. “I heard you.” Her voice rose. “You said Mac had a heart attack and died!”
Lord, she must have snuck up right behind Kendal.
“Come on,” Kendal said to Roxanne, who’d started to sob. “Let’s go talk.”
As the two stepped back inside the girls’ unit, Winson approached from the south end of the corridor. Why wasn’t he in his unit? Who was watching the boys?
“Why are you two talking out here?” he asked.
“This is Kendal’s first night and she’s alone with the girls. She wanted to know when Mia would be back.”
Winson’s jaw tightened. “Did you mention Mac?”
“Yes.” She didn’t appreciate the dramatic eye roll.
“Why would you have a highly sensitive discussion where you could be overheard? What were you thinking?”
She was thinking, where the hell had he and Amir been while Mac was dying? “I was thinking that you must have noticed how unwell Mac looked,” Casey said. “He was vomiting and keeling over by the time I reached his office.”
Winson’s dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
“Not to me, no.” Had Winson actually talked to Mac? Was Mac’s condition the reason Winson seemed so preoccupied when he returned to the unit? Did Winson have an ulterior motive for sending her to Mac’s office, like knowing what was happening, but wanting to dump responsibility on the volunteer?
“Here’s a tip,” Winson said. “Don’t talk in the hall where anyone can hear you.”
“We were whispering,” Casey said.
“Is that right?” he replied. “Well, look behind you.”
Casey turned and saw two solemn boys at Unit Two’s entrance. Oh, lord. Had they overheard her as well? Either way, they must have heard Roxanne’s outburst.
Winson shifted and stood taller, as if trying to look superior. “Amir hates the volunteer program. If he’s put in charge, it will be shut down.”
“Mac’s dead!” Mercedes shouted from the north end of the corridor. “No!”
Casey spotted Mercedes as she struggled to get past the firefighters who wouldn’t let her inside Mac’s office. The Latino man said something to her in Spanish. A moment later, Mia rushed up to Mercedes, who collapsed to her knees.
Two RCMP officers entered Fraserview. Why were they here? Casey turned to Winson, who looked unnerved by the police presence.
Amir appeared from the other wing and marched toward them. As he passed Casey, he said, “Go help Mia with that girl.”
Casey followed him down the corridor. Mia was trying to calm Mercedes, but the girl’s flailing arms kept Mia at bay. The Latino man retrieved his coat from reception, then—glancing at the cops—scurried out of the building. Interesting that he was abandoning Mercedes now. Did the cops worry him that much? Casey approached Mia and the girl, stopping close enough for Mia to see her.
Casey heard Amir talking to the officers. “I’m saying you’ve been misinformed,” he said. “Who the hell reported a homicide?”
Casey flinched. What? The officers observed Mercedes and Mia, and then noticed her. Casey tried not to wither under their scrutiny.
“Is there a room we can use to interview people?” the older of the two cops asked Amir.
“Yes, but residents need to return to their units. Visiting hours are over.”
“We’d rather everyone stay where they are until we’ve had a quick word,” the officer replied.
Amir’s balding head began to shine and his body grew rigid. “I can send anyone who had a visitor to meet with you.”
“How many residents had visitors tonight?”
“The list’s at reception.”
“We’ll talk to visitors first.” The officer turned to those who were standing around watching. “We’d like everyone to stay until we’ve had a chance to speak with each of you. It shouldn’t take long.”
Amir frowned as he led the senior officer to the conference room adjoining Mac’s office. His younger colleague spoke with firefighters and paramedics.
“I can’t hang around,” a visitor grumbled. “I’ve got to get to work.”
Mia helped Mercedes to her feet.
“Excuse me?” the younger officer addressed Mia. “Are you the one who assisted the director?”
“Not initially.” She nodded toward Casey. “The volunteer got to him first.”
Casey grimaced. Mia could have put it less provocatively. “I did, yes,” she said and then provided a detailed account of what she’d seen upon reaching Mac’s office.
“So, the pill you gave him came directly from the bottle. It wasn’t one of the spilled ones?” the officer asked.
“Correct.”
He jotted something in his notebook. “Stick around, all right?” he said. “We might have more questions.”
“Casey, can you help the other volunteer?” Mia asked.
“Sure.” Should she have mentioned that Mac’s last words were Justin and Tanya’s names? If the cop asked whether Mac had mentioned anything other than his pills, she’d tell him. Otherwise, why point the finger at Justin? It just wasn’t plausible that the boy, or even Tanya, could have caused Mac’s heart to give out.
Casey started down the corridor, drawing nearer to Phyllis and the cook, Oksana, who hovered near the janitor’s closet. Oksana said something to Phyllis, who then shuffled toward Casey. She’d put on her sweater and hugged herself as if she were cold. Bad news had that effect on some people, even in an overheated place like this.
Pale eyes blinked up at Casey through large square lenses. “Is it true that poor Mac is dead?”
Casey glanced up and down the corridor, making sure no one could hear. “I’m afraid so.”
Phyllis mumbled, “He was the only one who’d give me a job.” She gazed into space. “A dark, dark day.”
The piercing sound of a fire alarm made Casey jump and cover her ears. God, now what? Staff and residents poured into the corridor and headed for exits at either end. Glancing over her shoulder, Casey saw firefighters, police, and staff directing visitors out the main entrance. As she hurried to help Kendal, she sniffed the air. There was no smoky smell and certainly no sign of flames. Kendal led the girls, some with tearstained faces, toward the exit. Mia and Mercedes joined them.
Mia seemed to be counting heads. She turned abruptly and jogged back toward the girls’ unit. Winson yelled something at the boys, but the alarm was so loud that Casey didn’t think most of the boys heard him. He spoke into his radio and rushed back to his unit. A scowling Amir and a firefighter marched down the hall. Glaring at Casey, Amir pointed to the exit, making it clear he wanted her to leave. The firefighter stopped to examine the pull station between Unit One and the first aid room.
Amir unlocked the mechanical room and stepped inside. Casey watched him read the fire panel, then yell something into his radio. Seconds later, he opened the panel’s glass door and pressed a button. The alarm went silent.
Mia and Winson rushed out of their units.
“Code green!” Winston yelled into his radio.
Holy crap. Code green meant a missing resident, which also meant a possible escape. Casey watched the kids hurry back inside, rubbing chilly arms. Where were Justin and Tanya? Her heart beat faster. Amir relocked the mechanical room door, while Winson checked the swimming pool and gym doors. Both were locked.
“Have you seen Justin or Tanya in the last fifteen minutes?” Winson asked her.
Oh, hell. “No.”
Residents loitered in the corridor. Some were quiet, others chattered excitedly. She thought she heard a girl mention Tanya’s name.
“Everyone, back in your units right now,” Mia called out.
Amir jogged toward the police officers re-entering the building.
“Mia, start in the other wing,” Winson said. “I’ll do this one.”
“Can I help?” Casey asked.
“Check all the doors on that side of the corridor.” He gestured across the hall. “If anything’s not locked, go in and search the area thoroughly.”
“I know Justin’s grandmother,” she blurted. “If he’s out, he might try to contact her. I could give her number and address to the police.”
Winson’s stare was unreadable. “You know the family?”
“Just the grandmother; she’s a coworker. I told Mac about it.”
“Let the police know.”
Casey felt bad about the extra stress Amy was about to experience, but this was a criminal matter. Information couldn’t be withheld now.
“Casey!” Kendal rushed up to her. “I just heard about Tanya and Justin.”
“When did you last see Tanya?”
“I’m not sure. I was trying to calm down that Roxanne chick,” she murmured. “I’ve learned some interesting stuff. Call me later.”
Casey approached the officer she’d spoken with earlier. “Excuse me,” she said. “I have information about the residents who’ve gone missing.”
As she was explaining her connection to Justin, a familiar voice behind her said, “How do we know you didn’t help Justin escape?”
Casey turned and stared at Amir. The jerk was about to stomp on her last nerve. His thick black eyebrows were scrunched together, his entire manner bristling with defiance and challenge.
“Because I’m telling you I didn’t,” she replied with enough force to let him know she wasn’t about to cower. “Surely surveill
ance cameras can verify how and when the kids got out, and if they had help.”
Uncertainty flickered across Amir’s face.
“We’d like to look at the footage,” the officer said to Amir.
“The camera at the south end isn’t working,” he replied. “It was supposed to be fixed three days ago but there was a mix-up.”
The officer stared him down. “What about the other exits, or are those cameras broken too?”
Amir’s frosty tone barely contained the hostility he obviously felt. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The officer turned to Casey. “It might be better if you leave after all, Miss Holland. If we need more information, we’ll contact you.”
“Wait,” Amir said. “Two residents are missing. We’re in lockdown.”
“Exactly the point,” the officer replied. “Obviously, there are too many people in here to keep track of. All nonessential personnel who’ve been interviewed should leave.”
Amir shook his head. “I still think you’re wasting your time talking to people about a heart attack. Mac Jorgenson was an old man with a serious heart condition called dilated cardiomyopathy. He came to work looking like hell tonight. End of story.”
But it wasn’t the end of the story, Casey thought. The story was why didn’t the digoxin pill help Mac? Why did he mention Justin and Tanya just before he died? And what had been bothering Winson when he told her to go see Mac?
Casey left before Amir started accusing her of aiding in Mac’s demise. She dropped off her visitor’s badge at reception and signed out. Rawan quietly handed over her coat and purse. It looked like she’d been crying.
Outside, two officers scanned the grounds with flashlights. A third officer was talking to someone in the parking lot. Casey took the icy steps carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small red glow beneath a tree just beyond the building. Someone was smoking, someone short and bundled in black from head to foot. The individual stepped away from the tree and into the pool of light from the building’s floodlight. It was the cleaning woman, Phyllis.
The Deep End Page 5