“I’d be more okay if I knew what kind of DNA evidence they have.”
Nick reached out and touched my arm. “You didn’t shoot the doctor. No matter what they have, it’ll be all right.”
I heaved a sigh. “I hope so. It felt pretty weird at first, but I’m getting over it.”
I went on, giving the pertinent facts about my meeting with Cleo and hers with Korba. Then I relayed what I’d learned from Rita Lowe, the important bit of news being that Mrs. Lowe had been told her late husband was having an affair with Sybil Snyder. “It’s my feeling that Snyder’s husband, Glen Capshaw, seems capable of exacting revenge if he knew about it.”
“Hold it,” Harry straightened up from a forward bend, finally ready to sit down. “According to my last update from Nick, you thought Snyder and Korba were an item. What happened to that theory?”
“As Cleo so aptly put it, a sighting of Snyder and Lowe together trumps my eavesdropping of Snyder on the phone with Korba. We decided that without proof, Snyder deserves the benefit of the doubt where both men are concerned.”
Harry’s mouth formed a skeptical twist. “Where’s there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
“Not necessarily,” Nick said, giving me a pointed look. “Take my word for it. It’s possible to be completely innocent and look guilty as hell.”
Harry realized immediately that Nick was referring to Rella and the infamous Paris incident. “Oh, hell, man, you’re right. I’m an idiot. Go on, Aimee.”
I continued, “No one at work is even hinting at when Natasha might be discharged. I’m guessing Snyder and Korba will stall to keep her hospitalized until after the custody hearing on Wednesday.”
“How do they do that?” Nick asked, exchanging a look of disgust with Harry. “Wouldn’t someone notice that the kid is well enough to go home?”
“Her nurses might, but it doesn’t work that way. As long as Snyder is the primary physician, she gets to say when Natasha is ready to go home. If Quinn were on the job, he might be paying close attention to Natasha’s case, but since he’s out on suspension, it would be up to Sanjay D’Costa to question Snyder’s decision.”
Nick raised his eyebrows. “And from what you’ve told us about him, he may not have enough backbone to challenge her.”
“You’re probably right, but to be fair, he would probably only intervene if it was a question of utilization of hospital resources. If Natasha’s bed was desperately needed for another pediatric patient, Sanjay might ask Snyder to justify why she hasn’t discharged Natasha. Apparently that hasn’t become an issue.”
Harry raised a hand. “So we’re still thinking of the custody issue as a motive? Abel Gailworth killed Lowe to keep him from testifying in favor of Korba?”
I decided to tell them about Lowe’s informal note, leaning toward the opposite recommendation. “It doesn’t square with Gailworth’s primary motive at this point.”
“You’re referring to his potential loss of custody,” Nick said.
“That's right.” I struggled to make sure I was being clear. “But keep in mind we’re not sure whether Gailworth knew what Lowe intended to recommend.”
“Consider this,” Harry said. “Even if Gailworth did know that Lowe recommended he and Melissa keep custody of the girl, the terms Lowe laid out would have pissed him off. Gailworth would have resented the hell out of having Natasha’s diet scrutinized on a regular basis.”
“So Gailworth is still a possibility,” Nick cut in. “But here’s another …. What if custody of the little girl had nothing to do with the murder? What if Snyder’s husband killed Lowe in a fit of jealous rage?”
I stood to work out the stiffness in my knee. “Okay, boys, you see the problem. We have at least two suspects with strong motives. We need to know how either Capshaw or Gailworth could have ended up in Quinn’s office with Gavin Lowe. That’s where you come in, Harry. What have you found out about the contractor who created the secret passage?”
“As it turns out, we have a lead,” Harry said. “Thanks to Rella.”
“You told Rella about that passage and what we’re doing?” I looked at Nick, concerned. “Did you know about this?”
“Let Harry finish. You’ll want to hear it.”
“Here’s the thing,” Harry said. “I was doing an online search the other night for companies that build safe rooms and secret passageways. Rella peered over my shoulder and got interested. She told me that when she was in the military, she dated a guy who did that kind of confidential work in particularly sensitive government buildings. You’ve heard about the White House safe room?”
“Of course. Go on.”
“It turns out some of the guys she knew in that specialty who have left the military are doing similar work now for civilians.”
“And you think there’s a chance the contractor who did Quinn’s job might be one of them? That Rella might come up with a lead to help us find Quinn’s contractor?”
“It’s possible,” Harry said with a shrug. “Rella knows about a couple of guys based on the East Coast who went off the radar. They’re strictly word-of-mouth. No advertising. When I asked her if she knew how to contact them, she got curious.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said I couldn’t explain unless I cleared it with you.”
“How much do we have to tell her?”
“She needs to know about the passageway we found at TMC. Without that, she won’t be able to identify the guy we’re looking for.”
“And you both trust her to keep it to herself?”
“She’s ex-military, Aimee,” Nick said. “She understands need to know. We have to give this a chance.”
“Okay. If she’s willing, let her do some checking, but let’s not include her any more than necessary. I have my job to think about. I’ve already put it in jeopardy by involving the two of you.”
Harry picked up his phone, walked a few feet away from us, and started texting.
I threw Nick a glance. “He’s contacting her now?”
“She’s only back east until she flies Buck home on Friday.”
“That’s not much time.”
“True. But at least there’s a chance she’ll pick up a lead. Safe rooms and secret passageways are specialized work, limited to a small population. The guys willing to fudge on permits are an even more exclusive club, known only to each other.”
Harry came back, smiling. “She said she’ll hop a train down to D.C. while Buck’s tied up in New York. She told him she wants to catch up with some of her military chums, which is true, but with any luck, she might turn up something for us while she’s there.”
“And she doesn’t mind not having all the details?”
“Not at all. She said looking into this mystery beats hanging around in the city reading or going to movies and plays.”
That described an ideal week for me, but Harry and Nick exchanged knowing glances, as if the idea of Rella taking in a Broadway show was ludicrous. If so, she definitely had that in common with Harry. I couldn’t understand how someone as kindhearted as my brother could enjoy watching boxing matches and even cage fights, but he claimed he learned techniques from them that he could pass on to help keep his jujitsu students safe. If Rella enjoyed those events with Harry, maybe he had found his ideal woman after all.
“Okay, guys, I’m convinced, but there’s something I don’t understand. Harry could have done that job of Quinn’s without a lot of special training and expertise. So could a lot of other contractors right here in our area, and some of them are pretty hungry. Why did Quinn need to dig up this mysterious outsider?”
“Because he wanted secrecy and quality work,” Harry said, “but he also needed someone willing to leave the secret passageway off the plans and the permit. The legit contractors around here make a living by doing honest work without bending the rules. I sure as hell wouldn’t have put my license at risk. All the state inspector had to do was ask to see the empty elevator shaft under Quinn’s ba
throom and he would have realized that stairway wasn’t in the blueprints when the permit was issued.”
“And your pal Quinn was shrewd enough to figure out how to put the word out. He found the guy he needed.”
I didn’t like the implication that Quinn was shrewd. It implied cunning and sounded like the trait of a sociopath. A man capable of murder.
“One last question,” I said. “When are we going to let Quinn in on this hunt of Rella’s?”
Nick and Harry both hesitated, glancing at each other. Harry answered. “Let’s wait and see what she comes up with.”
“I get it,” I said. “You both think there’s a chance Quinn is guilty, don’t you?”
This time Nick responded. “We don’t know him as well as you and Cleo do. You have to give us some latitude to play devil’s advocate.”
I spotted some of Harry’s students pulling into the parking lot. “It’s almost six, so I guess we’ve finished our debriefing. I’ll fill Cleo in on Rella’s mission. I just wish we could know something sooner than Friday. One way or another, Natasha’s custody is to be decided on Wednesday morning. I’m afraid she’ll be leaving the hospital the same afternoon.”
Harry switched into sensei mode, greeting his students as Nick and I went into separate changing rooms. The Arnis class was starting when we emerged. We waved goodnight to Harry and walked out to our cars together. The sun had set while we were inside, chilling the evening air.
“Do you have anything planned for later tonight?” Nick asked, reaching for my hand.
Sensing an invitation, I regretted my reply. “I promised I’d get home in time to go with Amah to the nursing home where she volunteers. She’s been asking me to read to some of the patients. Why?”
“I thought I might take you to dinner. How about tomorrow night?”
“That would be nice,” I said, surprised, since we’d just gone to dinner and the symphony two nights before. “Is there someplace new you want to try?”
“No special place.” When we reached my car, Nick released my hand and took me by the shoulders to face him. “We went out Saturday night to observe the little piano prodigy’s grandfather. I’m talking about a date that doesn’t involve a mystery.” He pulled me toward him, and added in a low, husky voice, “More like a belated Valentine’s Day celebration, since we didn’t get to spend last Friday together.”
I was relieved. So Valentine’s Day wasn’t off-limits after all. “I like the sound of that,” I said. “And while we’re on the subject of dates, Cleo just told me about an encore performance of the symphony concert we saw last weekend. It’s on Saturday, a fundraiser for the TMC Pediatric Unit, and I promised to go.”
“Ah, sorry.” Nick put a hand over his heart. “I’m afraid I won’t be available. I’m flying this coming weekend.”
“I thought you were taking the month off. Isn’t Rella still taking the extra shifts?”
“Not this weekend. She and Harry are going skiing at Mt. Bachelor and I’m flying Buck to Portland for the weekend to meet with some investors. Buck agreed we could drop Harry and Rella off at the airport in Redmond on our way.”
I didn’t let my disappointment show. “No problem. I’ll check with Amah." I kept my voice light. "If she doesn’t want to go, I’ll go alone and hang out with Cleo. She and I are wondering if Natasha might do a solo.”
“Is there a chance of that?”
“Maybe." I rubbed my hands together, to warm them. "This is only Monday, so the concert is still five days away. It would depend on when Snyder discharges her and whether she thinks Natasha is well enough to perform. No matter how custody is decided, Natasha still has a promising musical career ahead of her. The sooner the Gailworths and Korba come to terms, the better for everyone.”
The night had grown colder as we stood outside, and Nick saw me shiver. “You’re cold. I need to let you go home. So we’re on for dinner tomorrow night?”
“We are,” I said.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He gave me a soft farewell kiss, which lingered just enough to make me want more.
At home I called Cleo. She didn’t answer, so I left a message asking if we could get together in the morning.
Cleo stopped by the library at eight o’clock Tuesday morning after her breakfast meeting. I filled her in on what I’d learned from the guys.
“Rella, huh?” Cleo gave me a pointed look. “Are you okay with her being involved?”
“I wasn’t at first, but if there’s a chance she can dig up the name of the guy who did Quinn’s remodel job, more power to her.”
“Hmm.” Cleo pulled down her half-moons and squinted at me. “Do I sense a change in attitude where the blond bomber is concerned?”
“I’m working on it.” I was surprised how good it felt to say that.
“Glad to hear it.” She patted the palm of her hand as if applauding my efforts.
The library’s overhead pager suddenly came on with an urgent announcement. I recognized Varsha Singh’s voice.
“Cleo Cominoli, please report to Administration immediately. Report immediately to Administration.”
Cleo’s eyes widened. “What the heck? This is a first. Sanjay must have screwed up royally if Varsha’s panicking.”
“Use my phone.” I punched in the direct line to Varsha and handed Cleo the receiver.
“Varsha?” she said. “What’s going on?” Cleo listened for what seemed much too long, nodding, shaking her head, nodding again. “How long ago?” She glanced at her watch. “Damn, damn! Okay, I’m in the library with Aimee. I’ll be right over.” She handed me the receiver. "Cripes, you won't believe this!"
“You look like you’ve been hit with a brick. What’s going on?”
“Natasha’s gone. Her parents checked her out of the Peds Unit against medical advice at six o’clock this morning.”
“They took her home? That’s their right, isn’t it? She’s still in their custody.”
“They didn’t take her home,” Cleo moaned, rubbing her temples. “They’ve left town and no one knows where they’ve gone.”
“How? I mean, who says they’ve left town? Who would know that?”
“Their neighbor across the street is a baker who gets up before dawn. He looked out at five thirty and saw Gailworth loading several suitcases into his SUV. The neighbor’s daughter and Natasha are friends, so he walked across the street and offered to take in mail and watch the house for the Gailworth’s while they were gone. He casually asked if they were going somewhere warm and sunny. Gailworth acted put out and told the guy to mind his own business, so the neighbor went back into his house, but he watched out his window until they pulled away. He thought it was odd that Abel and Melissa packed pillows and blankets into the car.”
I was still in denial. “But that’s not proof that the Gailworths are on the run with Natasha. They still have until tomorrow at ten to show up for the custody hearing. Maybe they have a legitimate reason to be gone overnight.”
Cleo hovered at the door, nerves thrumming and poised to go. She spoke more rapidly than usual. “Maybe, but Korba and Snyder are in Sanjay’s office right now, raising the roof. Snyder came in early to check on Natasha, and when she heard the girl was gone, she called Korba. He went directly to the Gailworths’ house and no one was there. That’s when he got the neighbor’s story.” Cleo picked up her briefcase. “I need to get over to Admin and get a conference call set up with Loren Davidson at home office.”
“Why? If the Gailworths signed Natasha out AMA and they have legal custody, what can home office legal do?”
“They can reinstate Jared Quinn as administrator, even if it’s just long enough to do damage control,” Cleo said, halfway out the door. “Korba is pulling rank, forcing Sanjay to take a back seat on this. Going as far as calling it a temporary suspension. When the Gailworths started packing up Natasha’s things in her hospital room, the nurse in charge was uneasy. Gailworth refused to wait for Snyder’s signature on the AMA for
m, and he refused to wait until someone could come with a wheelchair to deliver Natasha to the parking lot.”
“So what happened?” I asked.
“The stepfather scooped the girl up in his arms and headed to the exit, with Melissa Gailworth bringing up the rear. The nurse called Sanjay, who approved the child’s release, pretty much after the fact. He now regrets that decision, of course, since Snyder and Korba are both ready to trounce him.”
“Why is Varsha getting you involved? Can’t she handle the conference call?”
“It’s a chain of command thing. If Quinn and Sanjay are both unavailable, the chief financial officer is supposed to take charge, but he’s out sick with the flu. I’ve been asked to step in, but only until we can arrange for Quinn to take the reins.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. They’re waiting for me.” She headed out the door at a brisk pace.
Cleo running TMC? Who would have thought it? Even if it was temporary and sort of a fluke, I was impressed. She had morphed into a willing and able leader right before my eyes. Moments after she left, my Tuesday volunteer came through the door.
“Morning to ya, Miss Machado.” Bernie Kluckert stood at attention in front of my desk, waiting for orders. Still reeling from the news about the Gailworths and Natasha, I had trouble focusing my attention.
“Good morning, Bernie. I haven’t had a chance to line out any chores for you. Would you like to start with watering plants?”
“Sure enough. My favorite job. And I have a surprise for you, but I left it outside.” He held up a crooked index finger. “Wait just a moment. I’ll be right back.” He hurried toward the exit, his swaying antalgic gait a sure sign of discomfort in timeworn and arthritic joints. A moment later he came back, beaming and holding a potted plant in both hands.
“You brought a new plant?” I tried to sound pleased but hoped he wouldn’t be encouraged to bring more.
“Not just any plant,” he said. “An orchid from my own greenhouse. It’s for Lola. A winter bloomer.”
For Lola. I hoped to heaven she would appreciate it. Bernie’s infatuation with her was sweet, but I worried that he’d end up disappointed if she didn’t return his feelings. As I watched him arrange the orchid on the desk they shared, I knew it wasn’t the day to hand out advice to the lovelorn. I had a more pressing concern.
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