by Diane Weiner
“Most medical supply companies import premade parts from China and India. Here at Medivision, we make our own. Saves the consumer money, and insures quality control. Look through the window on the right. That’s where the metal and screws are unpacked.”
It reminded Sara of the oboe shop, only on a larger scale. Not the physical surroundings, of course. This wasn’t a homey family business, but rather a sterile factory. The basic process, assembling parts, crafting the product…that she was familiar with.
The guide walked them down the corridor. “The parts come out on a conveyor belt, here, after the preliminary assembly is finished. Then they’re separated into specific parts. See how the conveyor belt divides? Hip joints are made from the belt on the left, while knee joints are assembled on the right. We have a separate feeder system for assembling plates and pins.”
Sara pretended to take notes, drawing a sketch of the building’s interior and the conveyor belt system.
Travis said, “These parts are assembled by hand?”
“Not completely, but the finishing measurements and adjustments are. Then we stamp on a serial number and ship them out.”
“Our hospital must give you lots of business.”
“It does, though we have competition from foreign factories. Labor is cheaper over-seas.”
“What happens when there’s a recall? Wasn’t there a big recall back a year or so ago?”
“Expensive, but we ate it. We destroyed the faulty joints and started over. Safety is paramount.” He led them into an elevator. “Down here is our shipping department. The trucks pick up over there.”
Sara saw floor to ceiling boxes plastered with shipping labels. This is overwhelming. How do we know what’s in those boxes? “Excuse me, is there a restroom here?”
The guide said, “Nothing fancy. If you go through that door, take a left and you’ll see it. I’m warning you, it’s a factory bathroom and mostly men work here.”
“Right now I’d settle for a porta-potty. I’ll be right back.” She slipped through the door and found the restroom, but stopped when she heard the sound of machinery. The guide told them all the manufacturing was done upstairs and this basement was storage and shipping. She followed the sound, which got louder as she walked further down the hallway. The hair on her arms stood up and her gut told her she was coming close to something big.
Now the machinery made a loud, regular rhythm, like a metronome on steroids. She put her ear to the door. For a moment, she couldn’t decide whether to turn back or try the door. It’s now or never. I won’t get this close again.
She opened the door slowly. She didn’t see anyone in the room, just another conveyor belt with parts. She went for a closer look. This machine is removing the serial numbers. She grabbed the spy-cam and took pictures. I’ll bet these are the recalled parts. Even if they are manufacturing new devices, surely these are being sent out as well. Satisfied that she now had proof, she gently shut the door and returned to the shipping area.
The guide said, “We were worried you’d gotten lost. I was telling your boss we’d be happy to send over trial parts. The ortho-surgeon over there, Jailyn Peters, uses our inventory exclusively.”
Travis shook his hand. “Appreciate the tour, and we’ll be doing business.”
They headed into the elevator. Oh, no. Ellie’s boss! What if he recognizes me from the funeral or from when I went by to pick up Ellie’s things at the office? Her heart thumped and she felt a panic attack brewing.
Craig Danalchek said, “I hope our tour answered any questions you may have. We have a superior product. If my own mother had to have a hip replacement, I’d only agree if we’d be using a Medivision artificial joint.” He didn’t seem to remember meeting her. He was wearing a tweed coat. And a captain’s hat that looked an awful lot like a baseball cap! And a gold pin on his shirt!
Travis said, “I was quite impressed.”
Sara thought Travis was slick, giving the impression his job actually involved doing surgery. Craig Danalchek looked at her.
“Have we met before?”
Her mouth went dry. “I don’t think so.”
Travis said, “She runs around the hospital helping not only me but other ortho surgeons as well. Chances are if you spent any time at the hospital you’d have run into her.”
Sara held her breath.
“Hmmm. I guess that’s it.”
Sara sighed with relief when the elevator door opened and they parted ways. She and Travis scurried to the truck. She almost slipped more than once thanks to the freezing rain pelting the parking lot.
“I got it. Pictures. Lots of them. There’s a machine in back that smooths over the serial numbers, and another that stamps on new ones. Want to bet those are the recalled joints?”
“We’re going straight to the police station with this.”
Sara’s phone vibrated. She noticed half a dozen missed calls when she took it out of her pocket. She played the voicemails. “Oh, my God. It’s from Scott.” She called him back.
“Scott, what’s wrong?”
“Grandpa took a bad spill. The ambulance brought him to the hospital. They’re prepping him for surgery.” The last sentence of the message resounded in her head. “Scott said they might need to replace his hip!”
“Guess we’re taking a detour.” He floored the truck, spinning into a skid. “Call your detective buddy right now.” He straightened out the truck. This was the same curve of the road where Sara had skidded the first time she met him.
She grabbed her phone. “Now it’s dead! I’m so stupid! I forgot to charge it last night. Where’s yours?”
“On my kitchen counter. I took the spy camera—didn’t have room for both in my pocket.” He again floored the truck, steering into another skid.
“Be careful.” She clutched the seat.
Sara heard a siren and watched the flashing lights of an ambulance as it passed the truck.
“Do you think that’s him?”
“Your brother said they were already there, right? So he’s probably at the hospital by now. The slick roads are prime for accidents.”
“Jailyn Peters is Grandpa’s doctor. At this very moment she might be putting a metal leaching, recalled hip joint into my grandfather!”
“We’re almost there.”
Sara saw the bright hospital lights ahead. As soon as Travis pulled into the parking lot, they made a run for the entrance. Travis grabbed her by the hand, helping her keep her balance on the ice as they ran for the door.
Once inside, they flew up the steps to the surgical floor. Sara’s family, and Gail Capelli, were gathered in the hallway.
“Dad, where’s Grandpa?”
“They’re wheeling him into surgery. You just missed him. What’s wrong?”
“Wait here,” said Travis. Sara ignored him.
They ran down the corridor in time to see the door to the surgical suite open. Travis yelled, “Stop right there! Step back. No one is operating on this man.” Jailyn Peters, in dark blue scrubs, ready to operate, was waiting on the other side of the door.
Detective Lambert appeared and ran to the doorway. “Dr. Peters, you’re coming with me. Sara, are you okay?”
“I am now. How did you piece this together?”
“Your brother told me you’d gone to Medivision and I figured it meant trouble. He’d contacted a federal agent who’d been working with Ellie Rossi. Your friend was a whistleblower.”
“Then do you know who killed her?” She was quite sure she’d figured it out.
“Brace yourself. The unidentified print on Ellie’s nightstand belongs to Craig Danalchek.”
“Ellie’s boss?”
“Yeah. He figured out what she was doing and killed her. We got a warrant and found the murder weapon in his bedroom closet. The tire iron we found earlier had to have been planted. The real murder weapon was a golf club. Dumb move, keeping the evidence in his own home. At that point, he confessed. He’s locked up in a cell.”
<
br /> “Can you prove he knew Medivison was using recalled parts?” asked Sara.
“Yes, thanks to Ellie.” He pointed to Jailyn Peters. “This one was aware of what was going on but chose to keep quiet and kept using the recalled parts.”
“What about the boating accident? Did he plant the prints, too?”
“The night of the boating accident, Ellie was delivering a key piece of evidence to her contact. She realized her car was being tracked and decided to go by boat. Craig Danalchek overheard her asking her co-worker, Camaya, to borrow her boat so he followed her. He was chasing her in the third boat. That’s why she sped. But Hunter Griffith’s other son was driving and was quite intoxicated as it turns out. The accident wasn’t Ellie’s fault.”
“Why frame Ellie for the boating accident?”
Jailyn said, “You have to ask? It was a perfect way to keep her out of our hair. If she had been arrested and safely tucked in a jail cell, we wouldn’t have had to kill her.”
“Was it worth it? Worth murdering for?”
“Craig made it worth my while. I own shares in Medivision.” Jailyn looked almost smug, disgusting Sara.
“Danalchek made regular deposits into her bank account,” said Phil.
“That was interest from the stocks I own. I earned that money fair and square,” whined Jailyn.
“Do the Montagues know? They own shares, too.” asked Sara.
“They have a lot invested in Medivision, but they were unaware of this whole nonsense. They were horrified to find out people had died and said they would find a way to pay back society, whatever that means. Preston found out not long ago.”
Jailyn said, “I told him to keep his mouth shut. We had no choice but to stop him. He was meeting to spill the beans to you, Sara. If only you’d have keep your nose out of our business.”
“The night Ellie was murdered, Preston was coming to rescue her, wasn’t he?” said Sara.
Jailyn said, “She’d finally gotten to him. When she found out he knew about the scheme she gave him an ultimatum. Come clean, or the engagement was off. Obviously, he chose to keep quiet.”
“But he couldn’t live with the guilt, could he?” said Sara.
“The fool was in love with her. After Craig shut her up, Preston panicked. When he reached out to you with that note on your door? Of course he had to be stopped.”
Detective Lambert nudged Jailyn toward the exit. “I’ll need statements from both of you. Right now this one is going to join her boss.”
He led Jailyn Peters away in handcuffs. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and grinned at Sara.
“Take Mr. Baron back to pre-op while we settle this,” said Travis.
Sara kissed her grandfather. He whispered to her, “Tell Barack he…”
“Grandpa, what are you saying?” He was slurring his words as the sedative began to work.
He squeezed her hand. “Tell Barack he’s okay in my book.”
Sara smiled and kissed his forehead. “I love you, Grandpa.”
Travis said, “He’s going to be okay. They’re paging the other orthopedic surgeon on staff. He doesn’t use Medivision products. Let’s find your family.”
Down the hall, Sara saw her father pacing in circles. As soon as she was within earshot he said, “Sara, what’s going on? Scott called the police but didn’t explain anything.”
“It’s a long story. Grandpa’s going to be okay, thanks to Travis.”
Travis said, “Thanks to Ellie Rossi and your daughter. Sara wasn’t going to stop until her friend’s killer was caught.”
Chapter 34
Winter, while certainly not over, was giving way to occasional hints of spring. It was a sunny, February day and the dirty snow melted like 7-Eleven Icees along the sides of the road. Sara parked in front of ShopRite. It’s about time I learned how to make Mom’s cheesecake.
She and Travis had started seeing each other and tonight, Heaven help her, she was cooking him dinner. They’d agreed to take things slowly, but she felt cautiously optimistic about where this relationship might lead.
She grabbed a wagon and headed to the dairy aisle. Cream cheese, butter, eggs…
“So you have time to cook now that you’re not chasing clues.” Phil Lambert had snuck up behind her.
“I’m thinking catching a killer might seem like a snap after looking over Mom’s cheesecake recipe.” She looked in his wagon. “Wine? Oysters? Cooking dinner for someone special yourself?”
“I started dating the daughter of your mother’s book club friend. Turns out we have a lot in common.”
Sara laughed. “I think she’s got a brother. Mom tried to set me up with him when I first came back.”
“I’m glad you stayed. I hear the music shop is kicking butt.”
“My great grandfather’s design turned out to be a winner. Word is getting out and already orders have doubled. Thank goodness Scott got the shop into the age of technology so we can keep up with the orders and billing. He’s been marketing through social media as well.”
“I’m sure they appreciate the extra hands. How’s your grandfather?”
“Better than ever. Travis has been working with him on physical therapy since the new hip was put in. He’s walking without his cane. Pain free. He’s talking about taking Gail hiking at the Grand Canyon this spring.”
“I hear the senior center is opening up in a few weeks,” said Phil. “The Montagues came through on their promise to repay society.”
“I can’t believe they donated the building and all the furnishings. They even purchased books, games, and computers.”
“Best of all, they bought a brand new van and are going to employ a full time driver to pick up and deliver seniors who are unable to get there on their own.”
“Yes, and the transportation will extend to doctor appointments and errands as well.”
“The Ellie Rossi Senior Haven. What a good way to keep your friend’s memory alive.”
“Are you here to stay?”
“I’m on leave for a few more months. My dystonia seems to be improving with the medication Travis recommended, so with any luck, I’ll be able to resume my job.”
“We’d miss you, but I know San Francisco is your home and from what I hear, that band you play in is pretty famous.”
“You could say that.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go if I want to avoid relying on take-out tonight.”
“Me too. It was good seeing you. Give my best to Travis.”
As she drove home through Hudsonville, Sara felt at peace. If worse came to worst and she couldn’t continue her job, maybe she’d find a way to cope, surrounded by her family, friends, and Travis.
She unpacked the groceries and set to work on the cheesecake. She wasn’t sure she’d left enough time for it to chill. Guess he’ll have to stay until it does. She assembled the lasagna and popped it in the oven right before the doorbell rang.
Travis stood there with a bouquet of roses. “For you. Do I smell lasagna?”
“Where did you find roses in the middle of winter?”
“Like I told your mother, I know a guy who knows a guy. May I come in?”
“Of course. It’s freezing out. Why don’t you start a fire? Alexa, play mood music.”
“I taught you a trick! Bolero? That’s a little cheesy, don’t you think?”
“Gotcha. Alexa, play Gabriel’s Oboe.”
“Better.” Travis had a fire going in no time. “Did your brother get off okay?”
“Yes. He has a decision to make. In a few months he’ll be eligible to retire from the military. With his training, he could easily find work as a civilian. Wouldn’t it be great if he came back home?”
“Are you saying this is home?”
“It’ll always be home. As to whether or not I live here permanently, that remains to be seen.” I can’t imagine giving up playing. Then again, I can’t imagine not seeing where this relationship with Travis might go. “Travis, if I do go back to San
Francisco, is it even possible for you to relocate? I mean, if things get serious and if I’m well enough to resume my job.”
“I’d have to talk to the federal Marshals. Remember, I’m not out of danger. You can’t tell anyone, not…”
“Not even my family. I know. Your secret is safe with me.”
“At least we’ll be neighbors while you’re here.”
“Ellie’s family is so generous. They said I may stay in the house as long as I want. They won’t even accept rent. And who knew I’d ever be a pet parent to a black cat!”
“You found their daughter’s killer. That’s big.”
“Want some wine? I have a corkscrew handy.” She poured the wine and sat down in front of the fire next to Travis.
“Sara, you look especially beautiful tonight. Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I think we might…Maybe….”
She soaked in the delicious smell of his woodsy cologne and moved in closer. She held his face and pulled him into her. When she felt his warm lips against hers, her heart fluttered like a metronome on steroids. She wanted to kiss him forever.
He pulled away. “Sara, what’s that?”
She jumped up. “It’s the fire alarm. My lasagna!” they ran into the kitchen.
“You’re right. You really can’t cook.”
“Shut up! You try making lasagna from scratch while whipping up a cheesecake.”
“Your mother manages it quite easily. I’m just saying…” He grabbed the fire extinguisher.
“I think you got it all.”
“Yeah. No more flames. So you can’t drive and you can’t cook.”
“I…You can…”
He pulled her close. “Just kidding. But I’m not sure about there being no more flames.”
She looked into his chestnut eyes and melted right into his arms.
The End
PATTY’S LASAGNA
Contributed by reader Deanna Yearsly
Ingredients
1 box lasagna noodles
1 lb. shredded mozzarella cheese or a cheddar/mozzarella mix
2 large jars of red sauce