Mercy

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Mercy Page 32

by Julie Garwood


  “Hey, I’m an attorney with the Justice Department. I don’t care what you do with him, unless he’s one of the shooters who tried to kill Michelle and me last night. If that’s the case, then you and I are going to have to come to an understanding.”

  She shook her head and said, “The police chief told me you are on vacation . . . that you came here to fish. So go fish and let me do my job.”

  “Look, I understand why you want the collar, but —”

  “What?” she demanded before he could finish.

  “I’m in, like it or not. You think I’m going to sit around and wait? Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. He tried to kill us.”

  Harris was irate. “I’m not letting you screw up this investigation.”

  Theo wasn’t about to get involved in a shouting match. Forcing himself to speak in a level voice, he asked, “How many times do I have to say it before you understand? You’re not stopping me.”

  “The hell I’m —”

  He cut her off. “I can stop you, though, and we both know it. One phone call. That’s all it would take.”

  He wasn’t bluffing. When it came to push and shove, he had the muscle. She didn’t. Simple as that.

  Harris decided on a more prudent approach. “Okay, we’ll share information. I’ll send you copies of what I’ve got on Monk as soon as I get back to the station. And I’ll let you see what’s inside the package.”

  “Assuming we can find it,” Michelle interjected.

  “We have to find it,” she snapped.

  “Now, I want something,” Harris said.

  “What?”

  “I want forty-eight hours before you start interfering or call in your troops. I guarantee I’ll have Monk behind bars before then. If he’s working with the men who came after you and the doctor, I’ll get them too.”

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself. What aren’t you telling me, Detective? Do you know where Monk is now?”

  “Forty-eight hours,” she insisted.

  He didn’t waste any time thinking about it. “No.”

  “Twenty-four hours, then,” she demanded. “That’s reasonable.”

  Her neck was getting red from anger, but Theo didn’t give a damn if he was making her life difficult or not.

  “No.”

  “What the hell do you want? Give me something. My men are closing the net now, and we’ve all worked too damn long to let you take over. Let us get him. Three long years —”

  “Yeah, I know. Three years,” he said. “Okay. I’ll give you twelve hours, but not one minute more. If you haven’t made any arrests by then, I’m acting.”

  She checked her watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock now. Twelve hours . . . yeah, I can live with that. You take the doctor home and stay there with her until nine tonight.” Turning to Michelle, she said, “Let’s get moving. Where do we start looking for that package?”

  Michelle saw Frances motioning to her. She was holding the phone up. “It’s either down here somewhere or upstairs on the surgical wing. Will you excuse me? I’ve got a phone call.” She didn’t wait for permission. As she hurried to the counter, she called out, “Megan, why don’t you and Detective Harris go on up to the surgical floor and start looking. I’ll be up in a minute to help. Frances, you can go ahead and bandage Mr. Buchanan and give him a tetanus shot.”

  She picked up the phone and moved back to get out of Megan’s path.

  “This way, Detective,” Megan said, leading her toward the elevator.

  Michelle wasn’t on the phone long. She came back to Theo and said, “Dr. Landusky found out I was in the hospital and asked me to check a patient for him. Has the numbing worn off? I could give you something if you’re hurting.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “See to that paperwork, Doctor,” Frances said before she left them alone.

  Theo was watching the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he picked up the phone and asked Michelle to give him Mary Ann’s home phone number.

  She rattled off the number. “Why do you want to talk to Mary Ann?”

  “I don’t.”

  Michelle’s friend answered on the third ring. She sounded sleepy.

  Theo didn’t waste time chatting. “Let me talk to Noah.”

  Michelle’s mouth dropped open. “He went back to New Orleans with Mary Ann?”

  She had her answer a second later when Theo said, “Get out of her bed and go in the other room so we can talk.”

  Noah yawned loudly into the phone. “This better be good.”

  “It is,” he promised.

  “Yeah, all right. Hold on a minute.”

  Michelle heard her name being paged and went back to the counter to pick up the phone. A nurse wanted her to check a chart before she gave the patient medication. Michelle hung up just as Theo was ending his conversation.

  She heard him say, “After you check it out, get back here. Thanks, Noah.”

  The second he hung up the phone, Michelle asked, “What are you doing? I heard you promise the detective you would give her twelve hours and not do anything until then.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You did say twelve hours?”

  “Yes, I did,” he agreed. “So you know what that must mean.”

  “What?”

  “I lied.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  They were searching the wrong cubicle. Michelle went past her desk and found Detective Harris and Megan sorting through Dr. Landusky’s things.

  “Have you already searched my cubicle?” she asked Megan.

  “I thought this was where you worked,” Megan said. She was sitting on the floor next to the desk, going through folders.

  “Mine’s next door.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry, Dr. Mike. All this time, since I started working here, I thought you were a slob because I thought this was your workspace. Every time I came up here, you were sitting at this desk dictating or writing in one of the charts.”

  “I used Dr. Landusky’s cubicle because that’s where the nurses and the staff secretaries put his charts, and I covered his practice while he was on vacation.”

  “But, I’ve been dropping your stuff off here.”

  “We’d better keep going, then,” Harris said. “Maybe it was dropped here by mistake.”

  Since Detective Harris was searching the desk, Michelle got down on her knees and began to go through the pile against the wall. “I don’t know how Landusky can work like this.”

  “He’s always behind on his charts,” Megan volunteered.

  “Will you concentrate on the task at hand?” Harris demanded. She sounded like a schoolteacher reprimanding two errant students.

  “I can talk and look at the same time,” Megan assured her.

  “Keep looking,” Harris urged.

  “Could this be it?” Megan asked a few seconds later. She handed a small yellow envelope to Michelle.

  “No,” Michelle answered. “It has to have the Speedy Messenger Service label on it.”

  “What about this one?” Megan asked.

  Once again, she passed a package to Michelle. Harris glanced over her shoulder and waited for Michelle to answer.

  The package was a legal-sized, padded manila envelope. Michelle read the name of a law firm in the upper corner just above the label and caught her breath.

  “I think this could be it,” she said as she handed the envelope to the detective.

  Harris acted as though she’d just been given an explosive. She gingerly tested the weight, then slowly turned the package over. The detective took time and care pulling the tab across the top. There was another manila envelope inside. Harris sliced it open with a letter opener.

  Holding the envelope by one edge, she looked around the desk. “This will work,” she said as she picked up a large binder clip from one of the shelves. “I don’t want to touch the papers inside and mess up any prints.”

  “I could get you some gloves,” Megan offered.

  Harris
smiled. “Thanks, but this should work.”

  Michelle leaned back against the wall, a pile of folders in her lap. She watched as the detective used the clip to clasp the corner of one of the sheets and lift it halfway out.

  Megan knocked over a stack of newspapers and charts when she got up on her knees. Michelle helped her restack the pile in the corner.

  “What does it say?” Michelle asked the detective.

  Harris looked disappointed. “It’s some kind of an audit or a financial statement. No names on this page, just initials next to what I think are transactions. Lots and lots of numbers,” she added.

  “What about the other papers?”

  “Looks like there’s around twelve pages, maybe more, but some of them are stapled together behind this sheet,” she said. Shaking her head, she added, “Too risky to try to pull out.”

  She was slowly pushing the paper back into the envelope. “I’ve got to rush this to the lab. Once they’ve gone over the pages, then I’ll get someone to help me figure out what all these numbers mean.”

  It was a huge letdown not knowing what any of it meant. Michelle moved the folders and got up as Harris walked to the elevator and pushed the button. “Thanks for your help,” she said. “I’ll keep you apprised.”

  “You promised Theo you’d let him see the contents of that package,” Michelle reminded her.

  The elevator door opened. Harris stepped inside and punched the button. As the door was closing, she flashed Michelle a smile and said, “I’ll let him see the papers in twelve hours and not a minute before.”

  Michelle stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head as the door closed. Megan came up behind her.

  “What did you expect to find in that envelope?” she asked.

  “Answers.”

  “When things settle down, will you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Sure,” Michelle agreed. “If I ever find out what’s going on, I’ll be happy to fill you in.”

  “Your boyfriend’s an attorney. He’ll probably know what those numbers mean, and you know he’s not going to let that detective get past him without looking. I’m going to take the stairs down to ER. I don’t want to miss the fireworks.”

  Michelle had one more patient to check; then she would be finished. “Tell Theo I’ll only be a minute,” she called out as she turned and headed to CCU.

  Detective Harris wasn’t about to take the chance of running into Buchanan. She got off the elevator on the second floor and took the stairs to the first. Following the exit signs, she found a side door and slipped out without anyone seeing her. She circled the outside of the hospital and was running toward the parking lot with the envelope clutched to her chest when she heard screeching tires behind her. Harris swung around just as the gray Toyota bore down on her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The detective wasn’t answering her cell phone, and Theo was furious. He tried twice, and each time he was transferred to voice mail. His messages were to the point. He wanted that package, and he wanted it now. He also left a message for her at her precinct and was just hanging up the phone when Michelle got off the elevator. Even though Theo had heard one version from Megan of what had transpired, he made Michelle go over it again as he followed her into the doctors’ lounge to pick up her clothes.

  “But you didn’t see the papers?”

  “No,” she answered. “She wasn’t about to let me touch them. She was worried about messing up fingerprints.”

  “The hell she was,” he snapped. “She was playing you,” he said. “She’s determined to keep me out of her investigation.”

  “For twelve hours anyway,” she said.

  She had shoved her clothes and shoes into a plastic bag and was now standing at the door. Theo was reaching for the phone. “I guess it’s time to get tough,” he muttered.

  “Theo?”

  He finally looked at her. “Yes?”

  “I’m beat. I’ve got to get some sleep, and so do you. Can we please go home?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Give the woman twelve hours,” she said. “You did promise.” She yawned. “I know she doesn’t want to cooperate with you and that infuriates you, but I think you should give her a little slack. She has put in three years.”

  “I don’t care if she’s put in fifteen,” he countered. “I’m not backing away.”

  He was getting riled up. By the time they reached the car, he was threatening to take the detective’s badge. Michelle let him vent his frustration without interrupting. When he was finished, she asked, “Feel better now?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  He handed her his phone. “Call your dad and tell him we’re coming over.”

  “Could we stop by my house first so I can get a change of clothes?”

  “Sure.”

  While she dialed, he turned the corner and entered Bowen. Now that he knew his way around, it didn’t seem all that complicated, although he still believed the town could use a couple of signs.

  No one answered at her father’s house. Since he wouldn’t use an answering machine, she couldn’t leave a message. Remembering that John Paul had her cell phone, she dialed the number and waited.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is that any way to answer a phone?” Michelle asked.

  “Oh, it’s you,” her brother said. “You okay?”

  “Yes, but Theo and I are coming over. Where’s Daddy?”

  “Right beside me. We’re on our way over to your house. Dad heard what happened last night and wants to see you to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Tell him I’m fine.”

  “I already did, but he still wants to see for himself.”

  He abruptly disconnected his phone before she had a chance to speak to her father. She pushed the end button and handed the phone back to Theo.

  John Paul and Jake pulled into the drive behind them. After Michelle calmed her father down, she packed some clothes and toiletries and they headed out. John Paul suggested they leave the rental car in the driveway and ride with him and Michelle’s father so that if anyone came looking, they would see the car and assume Theo and Michelle were inside. Theo wasn’t in a mood to argue with him.

  The pickup needed new shocks. Michelle sat on Theo’s lap by the window and had to duck down every time her brother sped over a bump. As they were crossing the junction, Daddy remarked, “You both have to be tuckered out, what with those terrible men shooting at you and chasing you half the night.”

  Big Daddy Jake had a sprawling home. From the front it looked like a tract house on a cement slab. John Paul pulled the truck around to the back, and Theo could then see the windows on a second level facing the water. There was also another room, obviously built on as an afterthought, jutting out on the back. Like Michelle, her father also had a big screened porch overlooking the water.

  There were three boats, all small, tied to the dock.

  Daddy didn’t like air-conditioning. He had a couple of window units, but neither was turned on. The floors were old, worn hardwood, the boards warped in the living room. Braided oval rugs were strewn about the floor. It wasn’t stuffy inside, though. The overhead ceiling fan made a clicking sound with each turn and helped carry in a breeze from the water.

  Sunlight spilled in through the windows, casting a bright light on the old furniture. Theo carried Michelle’s bag and followed her down a long hallway. He could see Jake’s big double bed through the open doorway at the end of the hall. Michelle opened the door on the left and went inside.

  There were two single beds with a nightstand between them. The window faced the front yard. It was stuffy and hot, but thankfully there was another air conditioner in the window. Michelle turned it on high, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the side of the bed covered in a blue-and-white quilt. Daddy didn’t care about coordinating colors. The other bed had a red-and-yellow-striped quilt on it. Michelle took her socks off and fell back against the pillow. She was sound asleep in less than a minu
te.

  Theo quietly shut the door behind him and went back into the living room.

  An hour later, Daddy’s booming laughter woke Michelle. She got up and was walking to the bathroom when Theo came around the corner.

  “Did we wake you?” he asked.

  She shook her head and backed up so he could get by, but he followed her until he had her pressed against the wall. Then he kissed her.

  “That’s the way to start a new day. Kissing a beautiful woman,” he said, and went back into the living room.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and was appalled. Time to bring out the makeup, she decided, and start acting like a woman. He’d called her beautiful? She thought then that Theo needed to wear his glasses all the time.

  In a half hour, she was as good as she was going to get. She wished she’d packed a skirt, but she hadn’t, and her only choices were a pair of navy shorts or jeans. Since it was hot, she opted for the shorts. There wasn’t any choice for tops. She’d packed a pale yellow blouse with a little too much spandex.

  Barefoot, she padded down the hallway with her makeup bag and put it on the dresser in the bedroom. Theo came in to get his glasses. He was talking on the phone as he walked. He gave her a quick once-over, his gaze lingering on her legs, and she heard him ask the person on the other end to repeat what he had just said.

  “I got it. Yeah, her dad got the certified letter about an hour ago. No, Michelle doesn’t know. I’ll let Jake tell her.”

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Ben. He’s still waiting for the crime scene report.”

  “What is it you want Daddy to tell me?”

  “Good news,” he promised.

  “Were there people here earlier? I thought I heard the door opening and closing and lots of strange voices.”

  “A couple of your dad’s friends brought over the food from your house. There are four pies on the kitchen table,” he added with a grin.

  “But no cards, right?”

  “Mike, I want to talk to you,” her father called.

  “I’m coming, Daddy.”

  She and Theo walked into the living room together. She saw the photo album on the table and whispered, “Uh-oh. Daddy’s melancholy.”

 

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