Henry waited until he was in his car in the parking lot of the medical center before pulling out his cell phone and dialing his son’s office number. He wanted to accomplish two things—tell his son how his appointment with Dr. Markham went and make certain Caden agreed with the ground rules the surgeon had set up.
His call was forwarded to Beth, who said Caden would be finished with his patient shortly. Should she get him out of the room? Henry said it would keep. He asked that his son call his cell phone when he was free, then settled down to wait in the parking lot. He didn’t want to be driving while talking with Caden. No, this was too important. It would demand all his attention.
Ten minutes, then fifteen passed with no return call, but Henry didn’t worry. He had practiced surgery for well over two decades and knew how often five minutes turned into fifteen or twenty in a surgeon’s life. He’d been waiting eighteen minutes when his cell phone rang with Caden’s return call.
“Son,” Henry said. “I saw Dr. Markham today. We went over my tests together and talked about the treatment options. He’s willing to do the surgery in a week, and then turn the rest of my care over to Dr. Ross.” He paused to swallow. “He thinks I’ve got a chance to beat this thing.”
“Dad, that’s great.”
“I want you to be with me in the pre-op and post-op area, as well as during surgery if it’s possible. Markham is checking.”
“I’ll be glad to do that,” Caden said. “Did you like Dr. Markham?”
“My like or dislike isn’t as important as whether I think he’s a good surgeon, and I do. But, to answer your question, not only do I have no problem putting myself in his hands from a technical standpoint, but I like the guy. I think if we’d met under different circumstances, we might be friends.”
“Don’t rule that out even yet,” Caden said. “My attitude is this is a problem you need to deal with before you get on with your life. After that, who knows?”
Henry wondered if he should tell his son that he’d asked Jean to marry him. He decided to postpone telling Caden and Beth until he heard the answer to that all-important question. Of course, if she said yes, then he’d need to deal with his son’s theory that Jean was responsible for the death of his wife. He couldn’t believe that was a serious consideration. For now, he’d move ahead one step at a time.
When Caden pulled his rental Camry up to the end of the circular drive in front of Ann’s home in one of the nicer sections of Freeman, he looked at Beth in the seat beside him, and his lips formed a silent, “Wow.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Beth said. “I was trying to remember whether Ann has ever had us over. She’s hosted dinner for us and the Sparlings at the country club, but never here.”
“I never think of things like that,” Caden said. “I work with Ann, see her professionally, but—”
“But you never think of things like social obligations. Well, women do. And I suspect Ann has hosted us at the country club because she doesn’t want us to see her home.”
Beth looked once more at the two-story home that she estimated at four thousand square feet or so, the perfectly manicured landscape that only a gardener could manage, and the large plot of land on which it all sat. “I wonder if Ann is hiding this place from all of us.”
Caden opened the door of his Camry. “Well, we’re here now. Let’s go see how Ann is feeling.”
He rang the doorbell but heard no stirring inside the house. Another push with no result. “Maybe the bell is broken.” Caden knocked, and when there was no response, knocked even louder.
“Should we have called to let her know we were coming?” Beth asked.
“I didn’t think about it.” Caden pulled out his cell phone. “Perhaps I should—”
Footsteps inside the house made him put away his phone.
“Someone’s coming. Maybe she was in bed. I know when I had the flu, I wanted to rest and not be bothered.” Beth looked at her husband. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Those footsteps are heavier than Ann’s. I wonder if she has someone here taking care of her.”
The door opened, and a familiar voice said, “Come inside, you two. I wondered how I was going to lure you here, Dr. Taggart. Now, not only have you come right to me, but you brought your wife with you. How convenient.”
Darren Neilson gestured with the pistol he held. “Inside. Now!”
22
Henry went to his bank, put gasoline in his car, and in general killed time rather than going where he knew he needed to. Finally, he could put it off no longer. He parked his car and walked into his office. He found Jean in the workroom, where she was cleaning instruments and putting them into sterile packs.
“I’d like you to go out to lunch with me,” he said.
“Henry, I—”
“I don’t want to make this an order, but I am your boss—as least for a bit longer. I went to Dr. Markham’s office this morning, and I need to talk with you about what comes next.” Should he ask her for an answer here or wait? After a pause that was probably too long, he said, “And I’d like an answer to the question I asked two days ago.”
Jean nodded. She dried her hands on a paper towel, then looked at her watch. “Let me tell Dr. Horner’s nurse that I’m leaving.”
Henry waited nervously. He didn’t know which was worrying him more—talking about what lay ahead with his surgery and the treatment to follow or getting the answer from Jean that would determine whether she’d be beside him during that time.
Beth hadn’t been working at Caden’s office when the agents initially showed up, nor had she met either of them later. However, her husband’s first words identified the man holding the gun.
“Neilson, what are you doing here. Where’s Ann? What’s going on?”
“Ann is fine. She’s in the bedroom packing. I think the work she and I started here is ready to be brought to an end.”
“I don’t understand,” Caden said.
“Simple. She’s been my partner in this from the beginning. It takes a while to set up, but it’s been very lucrative. Using my position in the DEA, I’ve managed a number of these operations. She’s the one who’s been using the computer in your workroom to send those fake narcotics prescriptions. We figured just two a week wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion. Most of the time we used your DEA number or Sparling’s, but she mixed in her own a few times just to avoid suspicion.”
“How did you pull it off?”
“We paid homeless alcoholics a hundred bucks a piece to pick up each prescription, using false names. We hired a dealer to repackage and sell the product. And we were still able to split almost a million dollars a year.”
Beth spoke up for the first time. “But if things were going so well, why are you quitting?”
Neilson grinned, but there was no mirth behind his expression. “Because someone saw Ann sending a prescription a couple of times and got suspicious. And it unraveled from there.”
Beth looked at Caden. The anonymous phone calls warning him not to trust the DEA. Who made them?
“At first, we thought it was no big deal,” Neilson said. “Then he saw her several more times, and it became obvious he was watching her. After that, when she saw him going through the inactive files looking for the names of your old patients, we knew we had to do something. That’s when I submitted an anonymous tip to the Seattle field office and got myself assigned to investigate.”
“But—.”
He waved the gun at the sofa. “Sit.”
“What’s your plan?” Caden asked.
“Hurry up,” Neilson called over his shoulder. Then he turned back to Caden and Beth. “While I was here, I closed all the loopholes. That involved eliminating a number of the people we used to pick up the narcotics, as well as the dealer who was selling them for us.” He waved his pistol to make it clear what that “elimination” involved.
“And now?”
“Now I shoot both of you, load you in the trunk of Ann’
s leased Cadillac, and leave it at the airport in long-term parking. She disappears and resurfaces in Nebraska, where she’ll use another name to take and pass the tests to be licensed there. She’ll get a DEA number—the story we plan to use is that she never got one because she’s been overseas—and we start all over again.”
“Surely someone will find our bodies,” Beth said. When she realized what she’d said, she felt chills creeping down her spine.
Neilson shrugged. “Just another execution-style death linked to drug-dealing.”
“Won’t the police come after you when the real story comes out?”
“You don’t get it, do you? We intend to pin all this on you, Dr. Taggart.”
“You started the fire at the office?” Caden said.
“No.” Ann Russell stood at the foot of the stairway, carrying two large pieces of luggage. “I did that. Burning a few of the inactive charts would make it impossible to prove the patients that went with those scripts didn’t exist.”
“So, you weren’t watching Harwell?” Caden asked.
“Harwell was watching me,” Neilson said. “I couldn’t stop the office from sending him here too. But he won’t be watching anymore. There’s a large cistern behind that abandoned farmhouse you drove to. It was a good place to get rid of him. My report will say that Harwell disappeared about the time you and your wife did.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Ann said. “I’m sorry to leave this home, but it’s mortgaged to the hilt anyway, so it’s not as though I’m walking away from something I can’t replace in a few months.” She dropped the heavy suitcases. “Why don’t we let my colleague and his wife help me out to the car with these?”
Slowly, Beth and Caden moved toward Ann as Neilson followed them, his pistol still pointed in their direction. They were halfway to the suitcases when Beth heard a familiar voice.
“Stop right there, Neilson. Drop the gun and move toward Dr. Russell.”
The voice bore the ring of authority. Gary, Dr. Sparling’s nurse, stepped through the doorway, still wearing scrubs like all the other office nurses, but his demeanor had changed. Gary’s finger was on the trigger of a revolver, and the way he held it signaled that he knew how to use it.
Ann stopped where she was, but Neilson—whether by instinct or prior training—whirled and fired. Caden saw this, and without thinking he launched himself at the agent in a flying tackle. He hit Neilson just as he fired a second time, which made the shot go over Gary’s head.
Caden knew he had one chance to end this struggle, so he launched a vicious forearm strike, one that connected with the agent’s chin. Neilson fell backward, the pistol still in his right hand. From the look of the man’s limp posture and closed eyes, he was unconscious.
“Don’t move, Dr. Russell.” Gary’s pistol was firmly pointed toward Ann. “Dr. Taggart, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed.”
“By what we’ve learned, or by your actions?” Beth asked.
“Both.”
It was Monday and the noontime crowds were relatively thin, so Henry was able to get a table at the restaurant where he used to take Nancy. There were no other diners near enough to overhear their conversation. The mood and location were right. Now if he could just say it properly—and get the right response.
“What about your visit with Dr. Markham,” Jean said as soon as they were seated, and their drink orders taken.
“I think I have two excellent doctors on my case,” he said. “Dr. Markham and I spoke frankly about the Whipple procedure. He thinks we’ve caught this lesion early, and the surgery will most likely remove all the tumor. After I heal, Dr. Ross will take over. We’ll discuss chemotherapy and/or radiation at that time.” He spread his hands. “I’ve made up my mind to stop being a doctor and concentrate on my role as a good patient.”
“How about Caden?”
“Assuming we can get the proper permissions, he’ll be with me every step of the way—not as a surgeon, but as my son.”
Conversation ceased as iced tea was served for both of them. They each glanced at the menus and ordered.
When the waiter left their table, Henry reached out for Jean’s hand. He was encouraged when she slid it into his. “As I recall, I told you two days ago that I love you. That hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it will. I want you to be a part of my life . . . whatever’s left of it. Now I’ll ask you again. Will you marry me?”
Jean took a deep breath. “Henry, I love you too. I’m glad you’ve decided to fight your cancer, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way. I’ll even nurse you if you get too weak to help yourself.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
She left her hand in his. “But I’m not ready to marry you right now. It’s not that I don’t want to be your wife. I’d like that . . . someday. But it’s too soon after Nancy’s death. If you still want to marry me in a year, we can discuss it again.”
He wanted to be able to lean on Jean, and she’d assured him that she’d be there for him. She simply didn’t want to marry him this soon after Nancy’s death. He could see that. His son had made it an open secret that he figured Jean would do everything she could to become his wife. But she’d been given the opportunity and declined for now, but not forever. She simply thought it was a decision best put on hold for a year.
“When the time comes for your surgery, I’ll be there,” Jean said. “Is there anything I can do in the interim?”
He continued to hold her hand. “As I’ve said, I believe I have the best doctors. Every one of them has said he’s praying for me. Other than letting them do what they do best from a professional standpoint, it’s in God’s hands. So, I’ve joined them in praying. It’s something I should have been doing for years. But better late than never, I guess.”
“And I’ve been praying for you too,” Jean said, “even when you didn’t want me to.”
He smiled. “I suspected as much.”
It was still Monday, although late in the afternoon, and even though the squad room was a hive of activity, no one seemed to be paying attention to the group gathered around Detective Sam Caruso’s desk.
Caden and Beth sat across the desk from the detective. Gary was seated to Caruso’s right in a chair that he’d pulled over from another desk. He was still in his scrubs, but his pistol was no longer in evidence.
“Will the police take over from here?” Caden asked.
Caruso shook his head. “I imagine the DEA will send a team from the regional office to finish investigating the false prescription ring Neilson and Dr. Russell were running. The murder of a federal official such as Agent Harwell falls under the purview of the FBI, but the DEA will want to be in on that one. Holding you and Ms. Taggart at gunpoint is technically kidnapping, so again the FBI will be involved.”
“What about luring me to that farmhouse and trying to shoot me?” Caden asked.
“Since that’s outside the city limits, the county sheriff’s office will investigate in conjunction with the FBI.” Caruso leaned back in his swivel chair and put his hands behind his head. “It’s going to be a mish-mash of law enforcement agencies, but you all needn’t worry about it until it comes time for you to testify. Will that be a problem, doctor?”
“Not at all,” Caden said. He looked over at Gary. “But how did you get involved in this?”
“As you may have figured, I was the anonymous voice on the phone. My cousin called me about the time the DEA agents showed up at our office. He’s with the Seattle police department, and they’d been keeping an eye on Neilson because they thought he was bending the rules, maybe breaking a few. They just couldn’t catch him. Since my cousin heard he was coming to Freeman, I made it a priority to watch him.”
“And when you saw Dr. Russell using the computer to send out a prescription, what made you suspicious?” Beth asked.
“It’s unusual for her not to tell her nurse to do that, but she certainly had the right to send it herself. Mai
nly, when I saw her do it, I was struck by the guilty look on her face. Then I saw that same look when I walked in on her several more times. It was the same look a kid displays when their mother catches them doing something forbidden. That’s when I began to wonder if maybe she was up to something.”
“But why did you show up at Dr. Russell’s house? Not that I mind.” Beth smiled at him.
Gary shrugged. “I overheard the conversation when Dr. Russell called to tell Mona she was home with the flu. Something didn’t seem right. So, when you two went to go check on her, I decided to use my lunch hour to do some snooping. I followed you, parked a block away, and listened at the partially open front door. When I heard Neilson talking about what was going on, I decided to step in before you got hurt.”
Detective Caruso looked at Gary. “By the way, we checked on your permit to have that weapon. It’s all in order. You must have remembered a lot from those classes.”
“That’s why I have it,” Gary said. “I usually leave it in my car when I go to work. However, I’m glad I had it when I confronted the man at Dr. Russell’s house.
Early that evening, Henry sat down in his recliner and called his son. He’d been dreading telling him how Jean responded to the proposal. He hoped there wouldn’t be a fight. But putting off the moment wouldn’t make it any more unlikely.
“Is Beth there?” he said.
“She just walked into the room, Dad. Let me put this on speaker so you can talk with both of us.”
Henry took a deep breath. Here goes. He described how Jean had responded to his proposal. The good news was that she had the same feelings for him that he’d developed over the past year. And she’d promised to be beside him every step of the way of his journey. But she felt it was too soon after Nancy’s death for either of them to consider marriage.
“I suppose that makes you happy,” Henry concluded.
“Not really, Dad. I’ll admit that I’ve been harboring the suspicion that Jean wanted to become your wife, mainly because of the perks it carried. But since she turned you down, or at least deferred a positive answer to your proposal, I guess that shoots that theory. However, I’m glad she’ll be there by your side through this journey.”
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