"There is that."
"What concerns me is Melinda's reaction is odd. She isn't focused on her father and doesn't know for certain about my call to the state."
"Guilty conscience. Maybe she knows all the dots are there waiting for someone to pick up a pencil."
"And an ugly picture it makes. She's obsessed with the fact I embarrassed her and Franco by talking to her dad's physicians—in private, I might add—and she's making assumptions about the content of our conversations. The discussions could have been about any patient or a private matter."
"Keep in mind she has it right. You did report her. Perhaps someone who is loyal to her overheard a discussion and relayed it. That person is probably making it their business to keep an eye on you. You need to be careful. That translates to keeping your mouth shut at work."
"I get that." Sophia pushed aside the annoyance she felt at Ray for talking down to her.
They chatted awhile, making plans to meet for dinner at their favorite pizza joint after work.
Footfalls signaled someone's approach from the direction of the doctors' dining room. Dr. Bhaduri. Sophia's watch read one-thirty. If the doctor had been at a committee meeting, it was over. A few other physicians and staff members exited across the far side of the cafeteria. There were no ED staff or dietary workers in the group, Hopefully, this wouldn't prove to be one more conversation for Melinda to add to her accusations of slander. Sophia wondered about her choice of terms—Melinda acted as if Sophia had slandered her—then about whether she'd set herself up to be sued if the abuse investigation came up empty.
Dr. Bhaduri climbed on the facing chair and put her doctor's bag on the table. "You made the call." A statement, not a question.
"Yes. How did you know?"
"An Adult Protective Services investigator called me this morning. I'm meeting with them in my office at four."
Sophia nodded. "I could get sued and fired over trying to do the right thing for Ralph."
Dr. Bhaduri didn't respond to the obvious worry, but continued with her comments. "Two things. The investigator said they stopped at the house today and found no one home. They are probably here looking for Melinda and wanting to interview Ralph."
"But he's on the vent."
"Not since ten this morning. He is doing quite well, considering, and is alert and oriented."
"That's a good thing," Sophia said.
Dr. Bhaduri shook her head. "No it isn't. Melinda is sitting with him, as is Franco."
"He won't complain about them in their presence. Maybe the investigator will ask them to leave."
"Perhaps. But, he is an ICU patient. They will proceed with caution." She paused. "The thing is, coincidentally, I have a patient who lives across the backyard from the Silebis. This gossipy neighbor claims Ralph was pushed down the steps—came in to my office with that in mind. She knows he's my patient, and she was Lorraine's friend before Alzheimer's interfered. The upstairs window was open, and she heard the commotion. And she says she saw the grandson screaming at Ralph in the yard on more than one occasion."
"Did Gabe touch him?" Sophia said.
"Says not at those times, but she noticed Ralph had bruises on his arms and face a few times."
"Is she willing to talk to the state?"
"If the investigator can guarantee there will be no reprisals. She says she has to live in the neighborhood and needs to look out for her own safety, which is why she never called the police or the state herself."
"Now what?"
"I'll tell the investigator everything I know. Dr. Nathan called me this morning. He said they were coming to him at five. He'll openly discuss his findings."
"All of those things are merely suggestive," Sophia said.
"Not when they are added together. It makes a case for reasonable suspicion."
The doctor suggested Sophia stay focused, do her job, and ignore Melinda's posturing, then smiled encouragement and left Sophia brooding over her anticipated fate.
CHAPTER 16
Ray
Ray and Deg ate sub sandwiches at adjacent desks in the police department while assembling their murder book, selecting documents to include and creating more to summarize their findings. The credenza behind their desks held a stack of folders containing related information, some relevant, most useless.
Ray tapped his fist on his notes from the school volunteer canvas. "I believe Tracey Ironmonger is a viable suspect. Not top of the list, but on it. Several of the teachers I spoke to remember seeing her, but can't place an exact time."
"Who," Deg grinned, "do tell, is on the top of your list?"
Ray rubbed his chin, pondering the question. "I don't have a friggin' clue. But both you and I heard the same comments about Ironmonger using threats of kiddie violence to extort money from the mothers."
"Yup. Who else?"
"That's it for the school." Ray puzzled over his notes, looking for connections.
"Agreed," Deg said. "I went back to the neighborhood early this morning when all the senior citizens take their walks."
"And?"
"Putt doesn't have an alibi. Says he was sleeping in an empty apartment. Several of the neighbors think they remember him talking to Millie last Wednesday morning. Not a one of them sounded convincing. The other issue is they all are a bit leery of Putt, some even afraid."
"Which could contaminate their memories. Let's keep him on the list. Low. Below Ironmonger," Ray said. "Putt doesn't feel right for the deed. There was no theft, nothing to attract him. No motive."
"Agreed," Deg said. "But, I'm going to get the telephone records for Putt's landline anyway. His sister claims she called him mid-afternoon and woke him up. If there is a completed call, that would at least give some support to his story."
Ray's cell phone buzzed, and he answered it. "Stone."
The voice on the other end said, "The judge just signed your warrant for Millie Peers' financial documents at South Florida Secure Financials, Inc."
"Thanks. We'll be over in a few minutes to get it." Ray tapped the off button and stood, thinking it happened fast. The power of the mayor's interest, he supposed. "Let's go over and see what's up at Secure Financials. We need to ask about their corporate ownership and where, exactly, Dyer fits."
The two detectives loaded into Deg's vehicle, headed first to the courthouse, then to Dyer's office on Sample Road and University Drive. The company occupied a second floor suite in a large, gleaming building that hugged the sidewalk and curved around the corner. The structure sat in sharp contrast to the vacant lot across the street to the north.
In spite of the modern structure, Ray expected a hole-in-the-wall office. Instead, he found rich carpeting, gleaming surfaces, and an efficient-looking, middle-aged receptionist. After brief introductions, he handed over the subpoena and read the sign on her desk. "Mrs. Marshall, we need copies of all your client Millie Peers' records, access to the electronic versions, and a place to review them in privacy."
"Mr. Dyer isn't here. He'll be here tomorrow. You'll need to come back later." Mrs. Marshall set her jaw, looking determined.
"Read the warrant. We are here for documents, not a person. Your alternative is for us to bring in a team, close down the office, interrupt the financial software, and take our sweet time."
She glared at Ray over the top of her glasses. "You can go into that conference room." She pointed down the hall. "I'll place a call to Franco Silebi to alert him, then you can get started."
"What's Silebi's connection to the business?"
"He owns it. We are a subsidiary of Silebi Mortgage and Investments, Inc. There are several companies. Some focus on mortgage products, one on real estate investment. Our niche is secure investments for retired clients."
"Which means?" Deg said.
"Mostly annuities with guaranteed return on investments—major companies."
Deg held out his hand. "May I have whatever literature you give to a new client?"
"Of course." Mrs. Marshall
handed over a neat stack of glossy brochures.
"I'll look at these while you retrieve the paperwork and give us online access."
"I need to call Mr. Silebi first."
"No. Give us the information, then call him." Deg leaned closer to her desk, towering over her.
"You don't need to get pushy."
"But I do. You're resisting a search warrant. We want the records. We want them now."
She swallowed, then stood. "Right away."
A few minutes later, the detectives were behind a closed door in a well-appointed conference room with a stack of paper files, a logged-on computer, and access to the printer on the credenza against the far wall.
Ray accessed Millie's online accounts first, printing every screen as it appeared. He also put the images on a flash drive. "I'm going to call downtown and have one of the forensic accountants join us online."
"Good." Deg sorted the paper files he brought from Millie's home, the folders from the firm, and the stack of warm-from-the-printer pages. "What about account 145876f?"
"Not here," Ray said. "What's in the folder from the firm?"
"There isn't one here for F. Fodrum Annuities." Deg stood. "Let me ask the cheerful Mrs. Marshall." He left the room and returned two minutes later. "She says we have all the folders for Mrs. Peers. Google the company." He spelled the name, reading from Millie's copy.
Ray searched. "There is a website. Looks legitimate. We'll need to contact them."
"Here's her report." Deg shoved Millie's copy across the table. "There is a lot of money involved here. Nice return on investment. Format is odd. There is also a letter from Millie to Dyer here. She says she needs to be more diversified and break up the fund."
"Let's get the forensic accountants on site. Dyer isn't due back until tomorrow. Sit with the receptionist to impress her with the fact we don't want him notified in advance."
"I'd bet she already told him."
"True. Have her track down Silebi and get him here, too."
Deg left the room, then returned a minute later to stand in the doorway. "Mrs. Marshall wanted to know which Silebi we wanted summoned—Franco or the son, Gabe. She says Gabe is working with Dyer servicing customers and learning the ropes. I told her to get both of them and not to tell them why."
CHAPTER 17
Sophia
The Sicilian Oven smelled of baking pizza, flavorful soups, and pungent cheeses. The lighting was subdued, but not dark, with candles on the tables for atmosphere. As always, Sophia and Ray asked for a table near the ovens toward the rear of the restaurant. The place tended to be cold.
"Do you want wine, Sophie?" he said as he pushed the menu aside.
"Yup. And our usual."
They ordered the Queen of Sicily pizza—a white pizza with bits of deep-fried eggplant and balsamic reduction—and a Sicilian salad. Her mouth watered in anticipation of one of her favorite comfort foods. They waited and sipped Chianti.
She swirled her glass and stared at the reflection from the candle moving on the wine's surface. "All hell is going to break loose at the hospital." She'd been trying to keep the Ralph issue into perspective. But, having raised the topic, the associated emotions flooded her.
"Why do you say that? Melinda Silebi made a simple no-response-required complaint. You told me she wanted to make your manager aware. Whatever that means."
Sophia shrugged. "Right before the end of my shift, the nursing VP, Ms. Nolan, came down to see me and said Melinda demanded Nolan fire me. I don't get it."
"That's a fast change of mind. Melinda reported you to your manager this morning." He looked puzzled.
"True. In her conversation with Nancy, at least, she was reasonable, just wanted to note my unprofessional behavior. This is worse. Nolan said Melinda was demanding a response by tomorrow."
Ray sipped his wine, emptying the glass. He signaled for refills for them both. "She's escalating. In a day, she went from advising management to demanding a definitive response. That's not good."
"There's more." Sophia told him about the investigators being at the hospital and the conversation with Dr. Bhaduri. "I suppose Melinda is trying to fight a little flame with a monsoon. Maybe if she discredits me, the state investigators won't give credence to my report."
The waitress refilled their wineglasses, then tossed and served the salad.
"While waiting for you to arrive, I went on Melinda's Facebook page. She's blasting me. Coming right out and saying I falsely reported her family for abusing her father. She said she will set the record straight and prove I'm unprofessional. She's made several posts. Talks about how her family is embarrassed and humiliated."
Ray's brow furrowed. "It's hard to believe Franco Silebi condones his wife posting their private business. There's always an element of the public who will believe the person posting is defending themselves and think the accusation is true."
"Perhaps she thinks she's slamming me, and it's no reflection on her. She goes into great detail about her outstanding credentials, fine professional references—all that crap. She protests too loudly, in my humble opinion."
"Did Nolan give you any clue about what will happen next?"
"Said she'll support me, but she has to show she's looking into the issue—Franco is on the board. That's a big deal." Sophia ate a bite of salad, not really tasting it. The conversation ripped the joy from her meal. "Then Nancy called me into her office again. Nolan reprimanded her for not taking some kind of action earlier today. Nancy and Nolan talked awhile. Nolan finally understood Melinda didn't request a response from Nancy, which is why she made a brief written report rather than calling administration."
"All very odd. Then in the same day, she demands you be fired." Ray shook his head.
"It makes me wonder if someone else, maybe her husband, is pulling her strings. Maybe it isn't Melinda's thing at all." Sophia took another bite. "And weirder still, Melinda passed me in the hallway and gave me a cheery hello and told me to have a nice evening. She sounded sincere."
"You set the beast in motion. Now all you can do is open the gate and let it run. You're off tomorrow. Maybe being out of sight will lower tempers."
"I'm working Sally's shift tomorrow. I agreed to do it over a month ago, but laying low will be my plan." Sophia sipped her wine. "What's happening with your investigation of Millie's case?"
Ray must have needed to talk, because he gave her a rather detailed summary of his day, ending with the tie between Dyer and the Silebi family.
"Isn't that something? Ralph was abused—Silebi connection," she said. "Then there is a Silebi connected to Millie as well."
"It's remote, and there's no reason to connect them. Both Franco and the son, Gabriel, Gabe, came into the office to meet with us. They didn't seem the least bit threatened, and Franco was forthright and helpful."
"Did you expect anything else?"
"Sure did. The secretary gave us a load of static about the search warrant and didn't hand us the records until Deg applied a little heat. When Franco showed up, he said a few words to her about always cooperating with the authorities."
"Guess he has nothing to hide." Sophia focused for a moment on the contrast between Franco's and his wife's behaviors. Perhaps, she reasoned, her thought about him pulling Melinda's strings was foolish.
"Franco said they knew about Millie's murder and were reviewing her assets in preparation for distribution in accordance with her instructions." Ray finished his salad and pushed the plate aside.
The waitress cleared the dishes, put clean plates in front of them, then made room as the waiter set down the pizza.
Changing subjects helped Sophia's appetite. She sliced off a piece, carefully putting it into her mouth to avoid the sizzling cheese. "What's the grandson, Gabe, like? Ralph implied he was rough."
"He's young."
"Ralph said twenty-five. That's not young to me," she said.
"He's puffed up with himself. Dresses to perfection like his father, but more trendy. No
t the suit, but the young man's equivalent. Today he looked Wall Street trendy." Ray rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.
"What about his attitude?"
"Hard to tell. His father stayed in control of their end of the conversation, and of him. A couple of times Gabe tried to take issue with a question, but Franco shut him down. Told him to listen and learn."
"Seems to be a family pattern. Franco in control and everyone else going along and paying attention." She ate a couple of bites of pizza. "However, there isn't a lot to take issue with. Millie had accounts with them. They produce the records. You copy and verify. Should have been routine."
"It was, until we discovered the firm has no paper copy and no electronic copy of one of Millie's accounts. Big bucks."
"Is it with another company?" Sophia asked.
"No, the reports are on South Florida Secure Financial letterhead."
"How odd."
"Yup, and Franco claims he knows nothing about the account and isn't familiar with the firm."
"What happens now?"
"We follow the money." He signaled for the check and asked the waitress to box the uneaten pizza and salad, otherwise he knew she'd moan later about not eating more.
She held Ray's arm on the way to their cars and kissed him good when he held her door open, producing a dark smoldering in his eyes. While she drove home, she concentrated on his headlights in her rearview mirror and anticipated the evening yet to come.
When they got inside, she put the leftovers in the fridge, took Roxy into the yard for a few minutes, then set out to finish stoking the fire she'd sparked.
That lasted about ten seconds before he took over, kissing his way to the V-neck of her uniform top.
She wiggled free of his embrace. "Want to continue this in the shower?"
He did, leaving her no energy to worry about Ralph, Millie, or her job for the remainder of the evening.
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