“And? Was he ever diagnosed and treated for cancer?”
“You are ahead of the game, aren’t you? He was diagnosed almost three years ago during his routine physical, but, he had it kept out of his medical file at his regular doctor’s office.”
“Really?” That took some doing. And money.
“He showed up as a patient at an oncologist practice up in Shreveport, under the care of Dr. Potter.”
What? “Potter, not Martin?”
“Martin was in the practice with Potter, but left and moved to Arizona about six months into Phillip’s treatment, but Potter and Phillip were friends from college. Potter kept the records pretty hidden, so I really had to dig for them, then to figure out why they were hidden.”
Now it made sense. “Thanks, EmmaGrace. I’ll get that gift certificate to you as soon as I get back to New Orleans.”
“You do that, sugah. And you make sure you take care. If that man went to that much trouble to hide his condition, I don’t think he’ll appreciate you knowing the details.”
Nickolai hung up. He had to tell Landry. This was the connection that tied it all together!
Now they just had to figure out why Phillip needed the map so badly. So much that he’d murder his best friend for it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The shower was luxurious. Landry used almost half a bottle of her vanilla-scented body wash and shampoo, followed with a healthy dose of conditioner. She could feel the smoke and ash and soot gurgling down the drain. She took her time, enjoying the security of knowing Nickolai was just next door and nothing would happen to her while he was on guard.
As she stood under the hot spray, letting it gently pound on her scalp, Landry thought about him … and her feelings. How had she become so connected to him so quickly? It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t explain why she felt what she did. She’d never experienced anything like this before. Just thinking about him made her feel safe and secure. Made her happy, almost giddily so. It was a strange feeling. Good, but unfamiliarly strange.
She’d never been so aware of another human before. When he walked into a room, it was as if her vision came into focus. When he spoke, all her attention went immediately to him, like her ears were peeled on his voice no matter what. Her senses were tuned totally in to his every move, every word. Sometimes, it seemed that her heartbeat quickened just to match his.
Lord, I could really use some wisdom. My heart is telling me one thing, but my head is screaming that he doesn’t follow You, so that limits our future together.
Stepping out of the hot shower, Landry tried to clear him from her mind, but it proved a daunting task. She needed to talk to him. Did he feel the same way? He kissed her. Comforted her. Cared about her. But was that the same? She couldn’t imagine his insides being as tied up as hers. Still, she needed to figure out where they stood. Especially before they went back home.
New Orleans with Nickolai would be interesting. Her city. His city. Their city. She’d love to go to Mardi Gras with him. Each of them sharing their favorite haunts and jaunts with each other.
Wait … was there a future for them?
God, is he just mad at You because of what’s happened to him and his family? She’d been upset when first her mother got sick and died, then her father. There were many nights she’d cried out in anger. Were they so different?
She dressed in the only dry clothes she dug from the middle of her duffel. A pair of jeans and cotton shirt. With ruffles. Goodness, had she really packed that? She quickly pulled her hair back into a french braid, thankful her shoulder only had a twinge of discomfort occasionally. With a deft hand, she applied eyeliner, mascara, and a little lip gloss. She surveyed her reflection. Not bad. Especially not bad considering she’d been caught in a fire hours ago. Not bad at all.
If I’m not supposed to love him, Lord, please take the feeling away from me. I don’t think I can be tested on this one. I’m not strong enough.
Nerves bunched in the pit of her stomach as she approached the connecting door. This felt like a date, which both thrilled and terrified her.
Her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID, a little scared she’d see UNKNOWN but didn’t. Instead, it was Stan. She knocked on the connecting door and answered at the same time. “Hello.”
Nickolai opened the door as Stan replied. “Miss Parker? Are you okay?”
“Hi, Stan. Yes, I’m fine.” She put her finger to her lips at Nickolai then set the phone on the table and activated the speaker. She sat in one of the chairs while Nickolai sank into the other one.
“I was so worried. I just got back to the hotel and saw your room and learned what happened. I spoke with Officer Hogan, and he seemed to be concerned for your safety. Not many people have any information on where you’ve gone. Some said you were taken to a hospital. Some said you just left. I didn’t know what to think.”
“I’m sorry to have worried you, but I’m fine. I’ve moved to another hotel, obviously. You weren’t there when I left, so I couldn’t tell you.”
“Where are you? I’ll come put the charges on our credit card. I was planning on moving us to the Best Western down the street.”
Nickolai shook his head.
She understood what Nickolai meant. “I’d rather not say, Stan. No offense, but I seem to have a target on my back, and the less people who know where I am, I think it’s better.” But if Stan was at the same hotel anyway …
“Is Mr. Baptiste with you?”
Nickolai again shook his head.
But she couldn’t lie. “I’d rather not give out any details about where I am, Stan. I know you can understand. I’m sure you could call Nickolai and speak with him.”
“I’ll do that because I just got off the phone with Winifred and gave her an update. She’s most distressed about the events that have occurred to both you and Mr. Baptiste. She feels responsible.”
“Unless she’s hired someone to do these things, then she’s not responsible.”
“I understand that, but you wouldn’t be here, facing all of this, if she hadn’t hired you and pitted you against Mr. Baptiste.”
“We each chose to take the case for our own reasons. Either or both of us could have refused. Let her know I don’t blame her for any of it.” A thought occurred to Landry. “And she needn’t worry about either of us claiming she put us in danger. We aren’t going to sue her or anything.” She didn’t know if that was even a possibility, but surely Mrs. Winslet would worry about the chance if it was an option.
“I can appreciate that, Miss Parker, I assure you. As I am confident Mrs. Winslet feels the same way. However, in light of all the horrible events going on, Mrs. Winslet is choosing to terminate this project.”
“What?” Landry couldn’t believe this. She stared at Nickolai, who looked just as distressed as she felt.
“Don’t worry. Mrs. Winslet is a fair lady and will generously compensate both you and Mr. Baptiste for your time and trouble.”
No! “But we’re so close.” They’d go to the mountains tomorrow and, Lord willing, find the man who had the map.
“I understand your distress, Miss Parker, I do, but this is Winifred’s choice.”
Nickolai shook his head as well.
“Look, Stan … we’re really close. Give us twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t know. Winifred was very adamant.”
“Let her know we’re so close. Twenty-four hours. That’s it. If we don’t recover the map by tomorrow night, then we’ll accept her withdrawal of the investigation. But please, give us another day.”
“I just don’t—”
“Stan, I need this recovery fee. I’ll lose my business if I don’t.” She choked on the words and refused to look at Nickolai. She never intended to let him know how much she needed the payday. Now, considering how she felt toward him, she was embarrassed for him to know her weakness. What must he think?
“Just twenty-four more hours?”
“Yes.” She let
out a sigh but still almost choked on her own pride, even though she knew being prideful was wrong. Oh, Lord, please help me. I’m beyond confused and emotional.
“I’ll see if I can talk Winifred into giving you one more day.”
She smiled as relief swelled. “Thanks, Stan. I know you can convince her.” If he didn’t, but they still found the map, would they still get paid?
“I’ll call you after I speak with her. I’ll call her before I phone Mr. Baptiste.” Stan paused. “Are you sure you’re okay, Landry? Kohl said you seemed a little disoriented when you left, but the paramedics report you were physically fine.”
“I am fine. I just wanted to get away from the motel. I’m safe now, and focused on finding the map.” She paused. “Stan, are you with Phillip? Or have you been?”
“What?”
“Well, last night I planned to talk to you, let you know how close we were to locating the map, but your rental was gone. So was Phillip’s. And this morning, after the fire, neither of you were there again, so I just thought maybe you two were together.” Doing what, she couldn’t even imagine, but both of them being gone last night and this morning was quite the coincidence.
Seemed like a lot lately was coincidental. For someone who didn’t believe in coincidences, she was running out of logic and leaning toward divine intervention.
“I don’t know where Phillip is. I met my wife’s relatives over in Phoenix last night and stayed there until this morning.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you had family here.” He hadn’t mentioned it. Was that something to make a big deal out of?
“It’s my wife’s cousins. We weren’t sure how long I’d be here, so I didn’t make plans to visit with them until yesterday. My wife had spoken to her cousin who called me and invited me to supper. We had a nice visit and it got late and I didn’t feel like driving the hour back, so I stayed in their guest room.” Stan paused. “You haven’t seen or heard from Phillip, either?”
“No.” She remembered what Chris had said. “I have a rather personal question about him that you might know the answer to. It seems personal, but I promise you, it’s related to the investigation.”
“Okay.” Stan’s voice trembled just a little.
“Do you know if Phillip was ever diagnosed or treated for cancer?”
Nickolai shook his head at her, but she’d already asked the question. He must’ve heard back from his source. That EmmaGrace woman he flirted with on the phone. All of Landry’s confidence seemed to dissipate like the steam from her shower.
“Why would you ask that?” Stan asked.
“Trust me, it has to do with the case.”
“I don’t think so, but he wouldn’t exactly tell me something like that. If he has, then he has my sympathies. My mother had breast cancer. She had surgery and chemo and lived in remission for many years, but I know what a battle it can be.”
“I’m sorry.” She chewed her bottom lip. If Nickolai already had confirmation … “Stan, do you know of any reason Phillip would want the map?”
“Enough to kill Bartholomew for it? No.” He paused. “Are you saying you think Phillip killed Bartholomew?”
Nickolai shook his head and waved his hands.
“I’m just trying to get to the truth, whatever that is.” She cleared her throat. “I really appreciate you getting us just one more day. I feel pretty certain we’ll have the map by tomorrow night.”
“Well, okay. I’ll call you later, but if you need anything, just call me.”
“Thanks, Stan.” She disconnected the call and rubbed her hands over her jeans and looked at Nickolai. “Well, guess we have twenty-four hours.”
He nodded. “We should probably eat, then come back here and lay out our plan for tomorrow. Since I’ve already gotten supplies from the surplus store, I suggest we get a very early start in the morning.”
“I agree.” She grabbed her cell and slipped it into her purse and stood. “I’m guessing you got Phillip’s medical details?”
He stood as well. “I did. They found the prostate cancer at a routine checkup. Apparently he wanted to keep it quiet, so there’s not an official record on his medical chart at his physician’s office. He chose the oncology clinic in Shreveport because his friend from college, Dr. Potter, is one of the oncologists there.”
She opened her door and stepped onto the balcony. “So he wasn’t seeing Dr. Martin like Abigail? Just another doctor in the same clinic?” She shut the door behind him then checked to make sure it locked before following him down the metal stairs.
“Right.”
More being at the right place at the right time than so coincidental. She followed him down the stairs and to the Jeep in silence, her mind slowly laying out the facts.
Phillip meets Abigail at the oncology clinic. She tells him about the map. He offers to buy it—she didn’t know why yet. She declines. Months later, Abigail gives the map to her son to sell to pay for her cancer treatment. Bartholomew just happens to bid on the very thing his best friend had wanted?
“In all the information in the packet, did you see anything about how Bartholomew became aware of the map in the first place?” Landry clicked her seat belt and shifted to look Nickolai in the face.
He started the engine and cocked his head. “I don’t think so, and Mrs. Winslet never said.” Nickolai shrugged and backed the Jeep out of the parking place. “I just assumed since he was a collector he had people keeping an eye on those types of auctions.”
“Maybe.” But what if he didn’t? What if when it came up for sale at such a high price and Phillip knew he couldn’t afford it, he turned his best friend onto it, knowing he’d probably get the chance to get the map?
Which brought her right back to her original question … why did Phillip want the map so badly?
Nickolai pulled into the parking lot of Los Gringos Locos. “We haven’t tried this one yet, so I thought you might want to. I don’t even know if you like Mexican food. We can go somewhere else if you’d like.” He rambled. He found he often did when extremely nervous. He couldn’t be sure why he was so nervous right now with Landry, but it was almost as if he could feel a change.
“This is fine. I love Mexican food.”
They were halfway to the restaurant before he realized he’d taken her hand this time.
This woman had him all messed up. He acted crazy. Couldn’t think clearly. It was almost as if he had a bug of some sort.
The restaurant welcomed them with its dulled yellow paint on the top half of the walls and wood-planked bottoms. The aroma of rich Mexican spices mingled with peppers and onions enveloped patrons as they entered.
They were seated at a booth with yellow vinyl that creaked as they sat across from each other. He waited until they’d placed their orders and received their chips and salsa before he spoke again. “Landry, I know we’re in the middle of this case and we need to discuss it and make a game plan and all …”
“Yeah?”
“But I need to be honest with you, too. We both took this case for financial reasons. I didn’t miss what Marcie said to you about loaning you money, and I can’t ignore what you told Stan. Is your business really going to go under if you don’t get the recovery fee?”
She picked up her silverware rolled up in a brightly colored paper napkin and unwrapped it, putting the red napkin in her lap.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you or make you uncomfortable. I just want us to be honest and open with each other.”
“Let’s just say I’m apparently a better recovery specialist than I am a business owner.” She straightened her knife and fork beside the little green appetizer plate.
“I understand. Trust me, I understand. I had to hire an office manager who keeps everything running at We Find It.”
“I should’ve done that, but I was too hardheaded. I’d been doing it for Dad, so I thought I could just do the same. I didn’t know a thing about advertising budgets or projections or anything.” She shook her head and r
earranged her knife and fork. “I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve driven his company into the ground.”
He reached over the table and took her hand. “You couldn’t know. Just like I couldn’t. I can give you the names of some really good office managers I interviewed. There were a couple who have sterling reputations.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know. I’m starting to question everything. Maybe I should close the business and just go to work for someone else. Get rid of all the business-owner headaches.” She pulled her hand free and grabbed a chip. “Are you hiring?”
He smiled, imagining how cool it would be to work with her. Every. Single. Day. “I’d hire you any day of the week and twice on Saturday.”
“Why did you change your mind and decide to take the case?”
Turnabout was fair play. “Lisbeth’s doctor thinks she’s a candidate for a halfway house–type program. I’m still not too sure about it, but she’s all hyped up about the possibility.”
“That sounds awesome.”
If it would really help her … “But because it’s a trial program, our insurance won’t cover any of the fees, which is approximately forty thousand a year.”
“Wow.” Landry’s eyes widened.
“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”
“But if it helps her …”
“And that’s the thing. Will it? Will this help her any better than medications and therapy? Will she ever be able to just live a life on her own, without me having to worry about her hurting herself or others? Is this a stepping-stone to her moving out from constant medical observation and involvement to just outpatient treatment?”
“But her doctor thinks it will?”
He shrugged. “Who can say, really? Doctors can’t commit one way or the other on prognosis because of fear of a malpractice suit, and who knows if they get financial compensation from pharmaceutical companies? Even trial programs … do they get a kickback?”
“I guess I never really thought about it that way. I know with Dad, Alzheimer’s is so prominent in the public eye that most people have a lot of knowledge about it before they ever get a diagnosis in the family.” She took a sip of her soft drink. “But I do know that if there had been even the slightest of chances that I could have done something to help Dad have better days or more of them, I’d have done it in a heartbeat.”
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