One Day Gone

by Luana Ehrlich

  * * * *

  After the ambulance had left, Charlie and I went back inside the cabin to let the detectives know we were headed to University Hospital to check on Lizzie.

  “I suppose you’ll be contacting Senator Allen?” Ross asked me.

  “That’s right. I’ll do that in a few minutes. I know he really appreciates all the CPD did in trying to find his daughter.”

  “She might have been found a lot sooner if you’d shared more information with us about Judge Woodard,” Springer said.

  I admit I was afraid Springer was right.

  I didn’t want him to know it, though, so I said something about not wanting to accuse an innocent man, and then I turned and walked out the door.

  Charlie caught up to me as I was getting in the SUV. “Hey, what gives?” he asked. “You don’t seem all that excited we found Lizzie; not to mention we caught the judge in the act of committing a crime.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” I said, as I slid behind the wheel. “I’m happy about the outcome, but I can’t help but think Lizzie would have been found a lot sooner if I’d been a little more diligent about going through the judge’s casebook. Maybe if I’d done my homework, she wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.”

  “I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Well, I don’t. On Wednesday night, I learned Lizzie was probably on the phone with Judge Woodard before she went missing on Monday. If I’d taken the time that night to look over the judge’s casebook, I might have picked up something that would have helped me find her a lot sooner.”

  “In my opinion, there’s too much uncertainty in those scenarios for you to blame yourself for what happened to her.”

  I gestured out the window. “I was here yesterday, Charlie. What if I’d been willing to break into the judge’s cabin then?”

  Charlie didn’t say anything.

  “The truth is,” I said, “my negligence may have cost Lizzie her life, and if—”

  “No, Mylas, the truth is you’re wrong, but I understand where you’re coming from. Nathan warned me this might happen.”

  “Nathan warned you about me?”

  “Maybe that’s too strong a word, but when I asked him to give me some pointers on how to work with you, he said I should always keep in mind you’re a person who doesn’t like to fail.”

  I shot back at him. “I don’t know anyone who likes to fail.”

  He ignored me. “He said control was a big issue with you, and failure meant you weren’t in control.”

  I started to make some disparaging remarks about Nathan and his tendency to practice psychiatry without a license, but then I decided to drop the subject altogether.

  “We’ll talk about this later, Charlie. Right now, I need to give Nathan a call and give him the news about Lizzie.”

  * * * *

  As soon as I got Lockett on the line, he informed me he was just about to walk into Senator Allen’s office, and unless my call was urgent, he would need to call me back later.

  “My call is definitely urgent, Nathan. I have news about Lizzie, and if the senator doesn’t have anyone in his office with him, I’m sure he’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  “Good news?”

  “Yeah, it’s good news.”

  “Hold on a second. I’ll put you on speaker.”

  Lockett tapped on the senator’s door, and a few seconds later, I heard him telling the senator I was on the phone, and I had good news about Lizzie.

  “You found her?” the senator asked, practically shouting at me.

  “That’s right, Senator. Lizzie’s been found.”

  “Well, have her call me. Tell her I don’t care where she was or what she was doing; I just want to hear her voice.”

  “I’m sorry, Senator. Lizzie can’t call you right now. She’s in an ambulance on her way to University Hospital in Columbia. Charlie and I are headed there now.”

  I heard the senator take a deep breath. When he began speaking again, he sounded more subdued.

  “What happened? Don’t spare me the details. I want to know everything.”

  I did as the senator asked and told him everything, beginning with my encounter with the judge in his chambers and ending with the confrontation I’d had with him in his cabin with Lizzie.

  When I got to the part about the judge giving her morphine, I heard Lockett asking the senator if he could get him some water.

  He refused and told me to continue.

  After I assured them the judge was in custody, and Lizzie was probably already at the hospital by now, Senator Allen told Lockett he needed to get to Columbia tonight, even if he had to charter a plane.

  Lockett said he would start making the arrangements.

  A few minutes later, as we pulled up to the emergency entrance of University Hospital, I promised Lockett I’d call him as soon as I knew something about Lizzie’s condition.

  It was almost two hours later before I was able to call him back.

  * * * *

  It took me awhile to convince the lady in charge of the ER desk that I was a family friend of Lizzie Allen’s, and I was authorized to speak to the doctor in charge of her care.

  My business card didn’t seem to impress her.

  The phone call I made to Lieutenant Lawrence finally did.

  Still, Charlie and I had to sit out in the waiting room for another thirty minutes before the nurse indicated we could enter the Emergency Room and speak with Dr. Ratliff, the ER doctor.

  The nurse told us Lizzie was in Room 11, and when we walked in the door, Dr. Ratliff was there waiting for us.

  Although Lizzie was still unconscious, I thought she looked a little better than she had an hour ago.

  I figured it was because she had a little color in her cheeks now, and her lips had been treated with some kind of medication. Her breathing didn’t seem as labored either.

  After we introduced ourselves to Dr. Ratliff, he said, “What we’re dealing with here is an overdose of morphine. The police officers who came in with Lizzie told me she’d been receiving regular injections of morphine for the past three days.”

  He pointed to an intravenous bag hanging from a pole next to Lizzie’s bed. “Right now, we’re giving her naloxone to counter the effects of the opioid, so I expect her vital signs to return to normal soon.”

  “Are you saying she’s going to be okay?” I asked.

  He hedged a little. “Well, we’ll need to monitor her for a few days because there’s always the risk of pulmonary edema and seizures. There’s also the possibility she could have some brain damage, but since she appears to be a healthy female with no other health issues, I’m optimistic she’ll have a full recovery.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to stay here in the room with her. When patients start waking up from an overdose like this, they often experience vomiting, chills, and other physical symptoms, along with some aggressive behavior, so it might be best if the two of you remained in the waiting room until her situation improves.”

  “Sure, that’s not a problem.”

  As Charlie and I started to leave the room, I turned around and asked the doctor another question.

  “When the drug is out of her system, will she be able to remember what happened to her? Will she recall anything about the last four days?”

  “That’s hard to say. Occasionally, there’s some short-term memory loss, but that varies from patient to patient. More than likely though, she’ll remember everything that happened to her before she was given the morphine.”

  “Excellent. I’m sure that will make her happy.”

  * * * *

  When I called Lockett to tell him what the doctor had told us, he let me know Senator Allen and his wife were booked on a flight to St. Louis, and from there they planned to rent a car and drive to Columbia.

  He said he expected them to be at the hospital by midnight.

  He also informed me the sen
ator was bringing his press secretary, Claudia Dyer, and an aide with him, and possibly several other members of his staff.

  Claudia had arranged for the senator to hold a joint press conference with the Chief of Police and Lieutenant Lawrence on Saturday afternoon.

  I asked Lockett, “I don’t need to be at that press conference, do I?”

  “I’ll check with Senator Allen tomorrow. He and his party will be staying at your hotel, so you should be able to ask him yourself.”

  “Would you mind getting in touch with Nina and letting her know Lizzie’s been found?”

  “Sure, I can do that.” He paused a moment. “Are you okay, Mylas? You sound disturbed about something.”

  “I didn’t want to say anything to the senator, but Lizzie was in pretty bad shape when I found her.”

  “I thought as much. I’m just thankful you were able to get to her in time. It sounded like the judge was about to give her one final dose of morphine and get rid of her body.”

  “You got that right.”

  “You did a great job, Mylas. You’re to be commended.”

  I didn’t respond to Lockett’s praise.

  I knew I didn’t deserve it.

  Chapter 27

  After I got off the phone with Lockett, I told Charlie he was free to leave so he could get back to St. Louis to make arrangements for his move to Washington.

  “How long do you plan to stick around here?” he asked.

  “I’ll probably stay in Columbia through the weekend. Unless the senator has other plans for me, I’ll be back in Washington on Monday.”

  Charlie pulled out his cell phone to check on flights from Columbia to St. Louis, and when he told me there was a flight leaving for St. Louis in a couple of hours, I offered to drive him to the airport.

  Before we left the hospital, I checked with the ER nurse to make sure nothing had changed with Lizzie, and when she told me she was improving, I gave the nurse my cell phone number and asked her to call me if Lizzie took a turn for the worse.

  On the way to the airport, I lied and told Charlie I needed to call Savannah and Gus. I could have put off the calls until later, but he kept trying to talk me out of my bad mood, and I didn’t want any part of it.

  When Savannah heard Lizzie had been found, she wanted to know where she was, and even though I told her she was in the hospital and might not be able to have visitors until tomorrow, Savannah said she was headed up there anyway.

  The next call I made was to Gus, who sounded extremely distraught after I told him about Lizzie’s condition. It didn’t surprise me when he said he was headed up to the hospital as well.

  Each of them thanked me over and over again for finding Lizzie.

  They sounded so happy Lizzie had been found, it gave me an incentive to be cheerful when I dropped Charlie off at the airport.

  As he got out of the SUV, I said, “I think it’s fair to say you saved my life today, Charlie. I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge it before, but I want you to know I appreciated the rescue.”

  “I’ll let you return the favor someday.”

  “Let’s hope I don’t have to. Most of the investigations I do for Senator Allen don’t end up with guns drawn.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  “I can tell you have good instincts, Charlie, but is that the reason you decided to come charging into the judge’s cabin like that?”

  “No, I thought you were about to get arrested for trespassing.”

  * * * *

  After saying goodbye to Charlie, I headed back to the hospital, but when I passed New Haven Road, I realized I was only a few blocks away from Sandusky Drive, so I decided to stop by Whitney’s place and let her know about Lizzie.

  I felt it was the least I could do since Whitney’s interpretation of Lizzie’s doodles had caused me to make some inquiries about Judge Woodard at the courthouse in Centralia.

  I also felt I owed Whitney an update since I knew she was praying for Lizzie.

  But, who was I kidding?

  Those reasons were just excuses.

  In reality, I wanted to see her.

  I knew I’d feel better if I did.

  As I thought about her prayers for Lizzie, I remembered she’d also been praying for me, and it made me wonder if my mother was right, and the reason I was interested in becoming a believer wasn’t for some self-serving reason, but because God was answering Whitney’s prayers for my eyes to be opened.

  When Judge Woodard had put the gun to my head, and I thought I was about to die, I’d cried out to God for help.

  I had no idea why I’d done that.

  Why did I think I wasn’t prepared to die?

  Was it because I knew I’d broken God’s laws? Did my prayer mean my eyes had been opened?

  Such questions were still swirling around in my head as I stepped on Whitney’s porch and rang the doorbell.

  When Whitney opened the door, there was a big smile on her face.

  Seconds later, it was gone.

  “What’s wrong, Mylas? Oh, no, it’s Lizzie, isn’t it?”

  “I found Lizzie, and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be okay.”

  As we entered her living room, she said, “That’s wonderful news. I can’t wait to hear what happened.”

  After I sat down on the sofa, Whitney sat down beside me and put her hand on my shoulder. “You look worried. Are you sure Lizzie’s okay? Did something else happen?”

  “I . . . ah . . . just wish I’d found her sooner. I can’t help but feel I should have realized where she was. If I had, she wouldn’t have been in such bad shape when I found her.”

  “Where was she?”

  “Would you believe she was in Judge Woodard’s cabin the whole time? He basically kidnapped her and kept her there against her will by injecting her with morphine. Now, she’s lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life.”

  “But why would he do something like that?”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you the full story about Judge Woodard, but now that he’s sitting in a jail cell at the CPD, I can tell you exactly why he did it. He did it because he knew he’d be disqualified for a federal judgeship if anyone found out about his gambling addiction. It just so happened Lizzie had that information.”

  I gave Whitney a detailed account of my visit with the judge in Jefferson City and my encounter with him in his cabin at Finger Lakes, including what happened as he was about to give Lizzie a lethal dose of morphine.

  Whitney sat there in shocked silence until I told her I’d spoken to a doctor at University Hospital less than an hour ago, and he was optimistic Lizzie would be back to normal in a few days.

  “What an incredible story, Mylas. I’m so thankful Lizzie’s going to be okay. Needless to say, I’m glad you weren’t hurt either.”

  “Believe me, so am I.”

  “It’s still a shame she had to go through that experience.”

  “Yeah, I’m finding it a little hard to deal with that aspect of it.”

  “The other day you told me you got depressed when you failed at something. Are you feeling that way now?”

  “That’s part of it.” I looked over at her. “You told me you’ve had problems with depression before. How did you overcome it?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve overcome it completely, but after talking it over with a wonderful Christian counselor, I’ve learned how to deal with it better. She helped me understand my self-worth isn’t dependent on my accomplishments. It’s about who I am as a person; it’s not about what I’ve done. As a believer, I know I’m a child of God, and when I’m feeling down, I try to remember I’m so worthy, he gave his life for me.”

  I didn’t respond to Whitney’s statement.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to; I just didn’t know how to phrase the question I wanted to ask her.

  After a moment or two of silence, she said, “What did you mean when you said Lizzie’s condition was only part of your problem?”

  I to
ok a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I’ll give it a try. When the judge grabbed my gun, and I realized he was about to put a bullet in my head, I asked God to help me. At that moment, I actually said my first prayer.”

  She smiled. “Of course, you did.”

  Her response wasn’t what I was expecting.

  “Yeah, I guess anyone would have prayed at that moment.”

  She studied my face for a few seconds. “But you felt like it was more than just a prayer of desperation?”

  “Ah . . . I guess so. I knew if I died at that moment, there was no way I’d go to heaven.”

  “Why didn’t you think you’d go to heaven?”

  I smiled at her. “I know why you’re asking me that question. You’re thinking your prayers have been answered, and the light has dawned for this non-believer.”

  “I do see some glimmers of light there.”

  “When Curtis became a believer, he talked about having an incredible experience. He called it a conversion. One minute he felt one way; the next minute he felt differently.”

  She nodded. “I’ve heard Curtis tell that story before.”

  “Well, that didn’t happen to me when I asked God for help a few hours ago.”

  “Asking God for help isn’t the same thing as becoming a believer, although for some people that’s the first step in coming to faith in Christ. Keep in mind, not everyone has the same experience when they make this life-changing decision.”

  “Until I picked up those booklets at your church, I’d never given much thought to becoming a believer.”

  “I noticed you looking through them while I was on the phone.”

  I shrugged. “That was mostly for show.”

  She smiled. “I thought that might be the case.”

  “Well, I did take a look at one of them back at my hotel, and some of the questions in there definitely piqued my curiosity. I admit after I took you to dinner and heard you talk about your faith, I became even more curious, and then when you told me yesterday you were praying for me, I started thinking seriously about some of those questions. However, last night, I completely rejected any thought of becoming a believer because I thought my desire was based on trying to make myself more acceptable to you.”