by Kay Wyont
Back in the car, Danny said, “So we can move Hank from the ‘possible’ to the ‘yes’ column. That’s three.”
“That’s three,” Randy agreed, setting his GPS for the late Dr. Nelson’s address. “With just a little bit of luck, we’ll get the same scoop out of Mrs. Nelson, and that’ll give us four.”
Frank poked his head between the seats from the back. “Would four be enough for a warrant?”
“Probably not,” Danny replied. “It would get us close, but we’d need something other than just that.”
“Man, they’re strict on this warrant thing.”
“Didn’t you say you were taking classes, Frank? What is your major?” Randy asked.
“Criminal justice.”
“Good choice. Should I assume you want to stay a cop? Are you planning on making a career out of it?”
“I plan to. Not as a patrolman, though. I mean, I enjoy it, but I really want to be a detective,” Frank replied.
“Really? We’d never have guessed,” Danny said, laughing.
“I think you’d make a pretty good one,” Randy said. “From what I’ve seen, your instincts are dead on. You told the chief you’d been a cop about four years. You’re closing in on that magic number...five. Finish your degree. That’ll help.”
“Just a couple more classes and I’ll have my Bachelor’s. I really would like to be in Homicide. Even more so now. This is fascinating stuff.”
“The chances of you going straight to Homicide are slim. Normally you start in Fraud or something else, then move up. I was in ten years before I moved to Homicide, and Danny was in twelve. It doesn’t happen overnight. Just give whatever job you’re in 110 percent, and you’ll make it,” Randy replied.
Danny peered out the window at the high walls and impressive rooflines as they neared Mrs. Nelson’s neighborhood. “There are some pretty expensive looking houses out here. I bet it’s a gated community.”
“Way out of my pay grade. Yep,” Randy said as he caught sight of the entrance. “A gate.” He got in the center lane to turn left, then waited.
Frank piped up from the back seat. “Uh, Randy? It’s clear. Shouldn’t you go?”
“Watch and learn, grasshopper,” Danny replied.
Within a few minutes, another vehicle turned right into the gated entrance. Randy pulled behind them as the other driver punched in the security code. Once the gate opened, Randy followed them through before it had a chance to close.
“There, see how’s that done?” Danny chuckled. “Masterful technique like that comes from years of experience.”
“I suppose,” Frank replied.
“I thought you’d be more impressed,” Danny huffed.
“Oh, I’m impressed all right. I guess I just assumed we’d use the gate code she gave me when I called to set up the appointment. But your way worked just as well, Randy, except for the wait time.”
Danny leaned toward Randy and said in his best stage whisper. “You know, I’m starting to hate him.”
“Don’t worry.” Randy muttered back. “He’ll be gone soon. In the meantime, just try to put up with him.”
“I can hear you, you know,” Frank said.
Randy pulled to the curb and glanced in the rearview mirror. Frank sat in the backseat looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. “Whatever,” Danny said, sounding pouty. “It was an important training exercise for your future career.”
“Thanks.” Frank opened his door. “Besides, she didn’t really give me the code. I made that up.”
Danny pulled out his wallet and looked at Randy. “I have seven dollars. It’s yours if you let me stuff him in the trunk.”
“Maybe later,” Randy replied. “And it would really help if you two tried to act a tiny bit professional when we talk to Mrs. Nelson.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny saluted Randy, then hooked a thumb at Frank, who was doing his best to look serious. “But I’m stuffing him in the trunk later.”
THEY HEARD A FAMILIAR story from Mrs. Nelson: No marital problems, no financial problems, no depression. Mrs. Nelson was remarkably poised, but Randy could see the pain simmering below the surface.
“I’m glad the police department is running their own investigation after all because that NTSB report has to be wrong. It must have been mechanical failure. Harvey was so excited about our grandbaby on the way, and there’s simply no reason such a kind, fun-loving man—and such a good pilot—would have crashed into that gym unless something went dreadfully wrong. I’ve hardly had a wink of sleep since the crash, and that report only made it worse.”
Danny managed to work in a question about dieting, but Harvey hadn’t mentioned anything to his wife on that subject. They extricated themselves with the usual niceties and headed back to the cruiser.
“Who are these guys? Saints? Neither of their wives had a bad thing to say about them,” Danny said. “I wish Mary talked like that about me, but I’m pretty sure she’d spill her guts on every bad thing I ever did.”
“Well, she has so much material to work with,” Randy replied.
“Ha ha, wise guy. I don’t think Margaret would exactly call you a saint, either.”
“You got me there,” Randy replied. “Still only three counts against Dr. Higgins. Nelson was sounding so promising, too. Who’s next on the list?”
“Ann Post. The firefighter’s wife.”
Before Randy had a chance to ask for the address, his cell phone rang. Looking at the number, he said, “That’s Mrs. Nelson. I wonder what she wants.” He tapped the screen and said, “Yes, Mrs. Nelson? This is Detective Monroe. You’re on speaker. How may I help you?”
Mrs. Nelson didn’t sound as assured as she had. She hesitantly said, “Well, it was the strangest thing. All your questions made me so sad that I went into my husband’s home office, just so I could feel closer to him.”
“I’m so sorry we upset you.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It doesn’t take much. You can’t be married to someone for twenty-seven years without the loss punching you in the gut every few minutes. But that’s not why I called. While I was in Harvey’s office, I found a brochure for a weight loss clinic. I don’t know if he actually went or if he just picked up a brochure. I’m sorry to bother you, but you did say to call even if it was insignificant, and it struck me as odd. He never mentioned anything about it.”
Randy grinned and glanced at Danny. “Not a problem. I appreciate you calling. You never know what piece of information might prove useful. For the record, what was the name of that clinic?”
“Eternal Weight Loss. It’s not too far from where we live. I don’t think they’d be a very good one, though, what with that money-back guarantee. Seems to me like they’d go out of business pretty quickly with all the yo-yo dieting we all do.”
“They would if I was a client,” Randy replied. “My weight goes up and down all the time, depending on how much my wife is cooking. I appreciate you letting us know, Mrs. Nelson. Please call if you think of anything else.”
Danny rubbed his hands together eagerly as soon as Randy hung up. “And then there were four.”
TWELVE
“I was surprised to get your call, Randy. I thought the case was closed.” Ann Post set down coffee cups on the kitchen table in front of the men.
“Officially, it is. We’re doing a quick check to make sure we’ve tied up any loose ends.” Randy wrapped his fingers around the warm mug. She looks so tired. No doubt she was another widow losing sleep. There was a lot of that going around. Too much. “Thanks for the coffee. How have you been?”
“It’s been hard, as you can imagine. I thought it would get easier with time, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s getting harder.” She brought cream and sugar containers over. “I’ll let you doctor up your own coffee. I drink mine black, so trust me when I say you don’t want me messing yours up. Andy used to joke that I never could get it right.”
Randy smiled gently. “How’s it getting harder?”
“Initially, I was too much in shock to do anything but survive without him, but I’ve had so much time since then to reflect on things.” Ann brought her own coffee to the table and sat down with a heavy sigh. “If I could just figure out what went wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I suppose I could be doing the revisionist history thing, or maybe I’m trying to justify what he did so it’s easier to live with. I don’t know. But lately, I’ve been thinking something was bothering him.”
Randy perked up. This is new. She never mentioned that before. “Do you have any idea what that might have been?”
“No. None,” she replied. “That’s one of the reasons I hadn’t called you, even though you told me to call if I remembered anything. I don’t have anything concrete, so I talked myself out of it. It’s just a gut feeling. Nothing big, but several little things that seem odd enough now that I’ve hardly been able to sleep.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning. Walk us through the odd behavior. Maybe talking it out will help.”
“Okay. Well, first of all, he was a lot quieter than normal. Andy was always cutting up about something. That’s one of the things I loved about him...his sense of humor. But he got almost sullen. Things that would normally make him laugh didn’t.”
“When did it start changing?”
Ann frowned in concentration and studied the clock on the wall like the answer she wanted was there. She finally sighed and said, “I’m not sure. I didn’t notice at the time, but it’s more obvious in hindsight. A few days ago, I was cleaning out our closet, and I found our old Halloween costumes. For years, ever since we’ve been together, we’ve dressed up as Raggedy Ann and Andy. Because of our names, you know? It might sound dumb, but he thought it was hilarious. We didn’t miss a single year. There were a few years I wanted to dress up in something different, but I never mentioned it because I knew he wouldn’t want to. He always looked forward to Halloween, for that reason. But last year, he didn’t want to wear them. He’d always loved handing out candy to the neighborhood kids, but he didn’t want to do that, either. The more I think about it, the more I realize it wasn’t an isolated incident.”
“What else?”
“We always have a big family get-together at my parents’ house for Christmas. It’s like something out of a Hallmark movie. They live on a farm in Castroville and we eat an early dinner.” Ann’s eyes teared at the memory and Randy reached over and patted her arm. She gave him a wan smile before continuing. “Last year, Andy was so quiet at dinner that my mom asked me if he was okay. After dinner, we always go outside and play football, but he didn’t go. He just sat staring at the TV. When I asked him what was wrong, he said he was tired. He’d worked that big apartment complex fire right before Christmas, so I thought that was it. But now...” Ann’s voice trailed off as she stared into her coffee mug.
Randy nodded. “That makes sense. A few people died in that fire, so maybe it got to him. A lot of firefighters have a hard time when someone dies, and in that case, it had to be doubly bad. It was right before Christmas and quite a few families lost everything.”
“You may be right. He took his job seriously, and he was good at it. He normally didn’t let things like that get him down, though.”
“What else?”
“Oh, I don’t know exactly. A lot of little things that seem to add up to everything about him being slightly off.”
Randy tapped his finger lightly on his empty mug. Give me something I can use, Ann. “For instance?”
“I remember we were watching a TV show. I don’t remember what it was, but one of the characters on the show was drunk. I was laughing, because it was a comedy. Andy got mad. He said something about how the guy on the show would probably go out drinking and driving and kill somebody. He said he didn’t want to watch it and stormed out of the room.”
“Was that out of character for him?”
“Absolutely! Remember, I said he was always laughing about something. But by then, it seemed like he got so serious about almost everything. His father was an alcoholic and got into an accident that hurt a little girl. She ended up being okay and his dad spent some time in jail, but that never seemed to bother Andy before. I mean, it bothered him about the accident, but he didn’t get so serious about it. Andy always liked reruns of the classic comedies, and he always cracked up when Foster Brooks was on one of them.” Ann managed a smile at the memory.
“Foster Brooks? Who’s he?” Frank asked.
“I’m sure you’re too young to know,” Ann replied, chuckling, “but he’s probably the most famous person ever to play a loveable drunk. Looking back now, I’m shocked I didn’t see the change in Andy at the time. Maybe if I had, I could have done something.”
“My wife is always saying I think more about work than about her,” Danny said. “We all get wrapped up in our own issues from time to time, so don’t go blaming yourself.”
“I’m trying not to, but I was so preoccupied with work back then. The company I work for was opening a third location, and I was working long hours. I should have spent more time with him.” Her shoulders sagged. “He wanted me to join that weight-loss clinic with him, but I was just too busy. Maybe that’s why he was so different. Because I wasn’t doing anything to get in better shape like he was. I don’t know.”
Randy caught a triumphant glint in Danny’s eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. Now we’re getting somewhere. “He joined a weight loss clinic?”
“Yes. He’d been going there since about the end of August last year. Some place over on the northwest side of town. I went with him when he first checked it out, but I can’t remember the name. It’s run by a doctor named Higgins, though. I remember that much. It reminded me of Pygmalion.”
“Pygmalion?” Frank asked.
“The play My Fair Lady was based on. It seemed appropriate that someone named Higgins would be running a weight loss clinic. You know, sculpting people to ideal beauty like Professor Higgins did with Eliza. I said that to Andy as we left that day, and he said, ‘By George, I think she’s got it!’ We laughed so hard. It didn’t take much for him to laugh back then.”
“That’s funny,” Randy said. “It does sound like Andy had a good sense of humor.”
“He did. That’s what I miss the most. He made me laugh.” Ann smiled as she idly stirred her coffee.
“Is there anything else you can remember?” Talking seems like it helped her, and we got what we needed, Randy thought. Two birds, one stone. Back to work!
“No, I think that’s it. Do you think I’m making too much of it?” Ann asked.
“I think most people go through periods of depression. It sounds like that happened to him, probably because of his work. But the worst thing in the world you can do is start blaming yourself, so don’t. Okay?”
“Easier said than done, but I’ll try,” Ann replied. “You’ll keep me posted?”
“Absolutely. Try and have a good day, Raggedy Ann,” Randy said with a smile. “It’ll get better in time.”
“Thanks.” Ann chuckled, then sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
Back in the car, Frank said, “Five. Now is that enough?”
“Hey! The boy can add, Randy, and I didn’t even notice him finger counting. Yep. Five. We got enough. To the station, Jeeves!” Danny pointed out the windshield and settled back with a contented smile.
By the time they got there, most of the officers had gone home, but Chief Sanchez was still at his desk. They settled into the same chairs they’d sat in that morning and filled him in on their progress.
By the end, Frank was leaning so far forward in his seat, it looked like he might fall off. “Is that enough to get a search warrant for the clinic, Chief?”
“My guess is no. We’ll need more. Which brings me to what I found out today. While you’ve been running all over town, I’ve been busy. Way too busy, I might add. Your Dr. Higgins has a pretty checkered background.”
“What do you mean
?” Randy asked.
“First of all, he’s moved around a lot, especially for a doctor. But I know why. Wanna guess?”
“Not really. It’s been a long day,” Randy said.
“Okay, if you’re going to whine. Picture Higgins, fresh outta Yale, a practicing doctor in New Haven, Connecticut, shingle still wet behind the ears.” Chief Sanchez chuckled at his own joke. “Anyway, life is good for about seven years, then he gets stupid and lands in prison with a DUI and vehicular manslaughter charge."
“Whoa,” Frank intoned.
The chief nodded. “Needless to say, the not-so-good doctor lost his license. He filed an appeal from prison. Denied. After he was released, he filed another appeal. Denied.”
“Serves him right for drinking and driving.” Danny said. “Is that when he moved?”
“Yep,” the chief said. “He packed up and moved to Oklahoma, only to get busted for a second DUI.”
“You’d think a psychologist would learn from his mistakes,” Frank said.
“You’d think. You’d also think a couple of police officers wouldn’t interrupt their chief when he’s sharing information vital to their case.”
“Sorry, Chief,” Frank said.
“Next person to interrupt gets shot.” Randy leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and nodded at the chief.
“Let that be a lesson. There’s a reason he’s the boss and you two aren’t.” One corner of Sanchez’s mouth quirked up in grin, then he continued. “Higgins only got a ticket in Oklahoma, no prison time, but it was enough for him to pack up again and move to Mississippi. And can you guess what happened there?” The chief looked expectantly at the three men. Not getting an answer, he rolled his eyes and said, “Really? If I ask a question, don’t you think you should answer?”
“At the risk of getting shot, no. No, we don’t.” Danny made a lip-zip motion.
Randy spoke up before Sanchez actually lost his temper. “He got a DUI?”