Inadvertent Disclosure (28 page)

CHAPTER 42

Jed pushed himself up on his
elbows and tried to make sense of what the fresh-faced Dr. Brown had told him.
Apparently, his allergy drugs were making him sick? His head was still thick
and he had to struggle to remember, but the last thing he recalled was Gavin
Russell pounding on his front door.

He’d just come back from feeding
the ducks and was feeling woozy. He thought he might have fallen trying to
answer the door, but he really couldn’t be sure.

Whatever the case, he’d told
young Dr. Brown he wanted to get out of this hospital room pronto. Jed knew how
hospitals worked. When Marla had been sick, the bills from the hospital stays
made him want to vomit right alongside her. Ten dollars for an aspirin. Five
more for a bandage. He’d refused to drink the water Dr. Brown had offered until
he’d been assured it was free.

He reached for it now and took
a long, cold swallow. It tasted like heaven. Like the water in the creek used
to taste, before it took on the taste of the salt and sand and God knew what
else that was being dumped in it.

Brown hadn’t said it, but Jed
could tell it was no accident he was here. Doc Spangler was behind this. He
knew it.

What Brown
had
said was
that Sasha was back in town and would be coming to see him. Jed was surprised
by how glad that news made him. Despite her size, that girl packed a wallop.
She’d get him the hell out of here.

Harry Paulson had known what he
was doing when he put her on Jed’s case. Poor old Harry.

Jed reached for the water again
and, as he did, he could have sworn his bed shook. He waited a minute but
nothing else happened. He figured he must still be loopy from the drugs.

CHAPTER 43

As Sasha and Russell hurried
down the corridor toward Jed’s hospital room, the rapid beat of their shoes
against the tile caught Connelly’s attention and he sat up straighter.

Sasha stopped in front of his
chair. She hoped the way they’d left things at the apartment wasn’t going to
cause any awkwardness. She inclined her head toward Jed’s door. “How is he?”

Connelly grinned. “Pissed off.
Doc Brown thinks he can go home today.”

A smile broke across Russell’s
grim face in response.

Connelly continued, “But only
if Spangler signs off on it. She’s still the treating.”

Russell’s smile vanished.

“How’d she take the news about
the new orders?” Sasha asked.

Connelly shook his head. “She
hasn’t made her way over here yet. I talked to Jonas. Gloria is stable and in
good spirits, by the way. Anyhow, Spangler started her rounds this morning and
checked on Gloria. Brown said she disappeared late morning. But, she sets her
own schedule. So, she can come by any time.”

“Have you been sitting here all
day?” Russell asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll spell you,” he said. “Go
get a cup of coffee or take a leak or whatever.”

Connelly didn’t protest. He
stood up and motioned that the chair was all Russell’s.

“Thanks, man.” He turned to
Sasha. “Walk with me?”

As they walked away, her
shoulder brushed against his side and he gave her that lopsided smile that made
her heart skip.

She was about to launch into
her discovery, but he pulled her into a quiet hallway near a set of vending machines
and said, “Agent Stock called me. I was talking to him when you called
earlier.”

He fed two quarters into the
coffee machine and filled a Styrofoam cup. He fed two more quarters into the
snack machine and scored a bag of hard pretzels.

Sasha grimaced, “I should have
brought you something from Bob’s. I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay.”

He tore into the package of
pretzels and broke off a large chunk.

She waited until he finished
chewing and asked, “So Stock?”

Connelly ran down the
background information that Stock had provided. Then he said, “So, to
summarize, they have a lot of money, but nothing illegal jumped out at Stock.
Those transfers back and forth seem hinky to me, though. Might be something
there.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “There’s
something there, all right. Shelly specializes in boring state crimes that
definitely wouldn’t attract the attention of the FBI. But, I am sure Heather’s
getting a cut. Heather’s more of an arm-twisting extortionist, but since she’s
paying off the local sheriff and the Pennsylvania Attorney General, I doubt
anyone’s brought it to the notice of the federal government.”

Connelly leaned forward,
instantly interested.

Sasha went on. “As far as I can
tell, until recently, Heather’s activities might have been considered self-dealing
or greedy, but not illegal.”

Connelly said, “And recently?”

“What do you call murdering a
judge?”

Then the lights went out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Gavin Russell used the time
sitting outside Jed’s door to radio the sheriff.

“Sir, what’s your location?”

“County General,” Stickley
replied. “Visiting with Mrs. Burke.”

“Have you seen Doc Spangler?”

“Matter a fact, she just walked
by.”

Russell thought fast. “Can you
grab her and bring her to Jed Craybill’s room, sir. Craybill is in distress and
I don’t know where Dr. Brown is.”

“Roger that.”

Russell clicked off the radio.
Sasha would be pleased that he’d lured Spangler to them, he thought. Just then
the floor vibrated and his chair rattled against the wall behind him.

He heard Jed Craybill yell out
from his hospital room. “What the Sam hell?!”

Then the lights went out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Heather was in the hospital
lobby when the ground shuddered and the space was plunged into darkness. As the
security guard came around from his station to try to calm the small crowd of
visitors and patients milling around, she slipped into the stairwell and headed
up the stairs.

She’d just have to walk around
the hospital until she found Shelly. She didn’t have time to wait until the
power outage or whatever it was had ended. She’d start with the doctors’
lounge. Maybe she’d get lucky and catch her there.

As she trudged up the stairs,
Heather worked through the plan.

Shelly’s office was right next
to Bob’s Diner. If Shelly happened to have been in the front of her building last
Tuesday afternoon, Heather knew she’d have had a good visual on the shooter who
picked off the judge.

The shooter, Heather knew, had
taken up position in the narrow alley that ran alongside the squat Methodist
church anchoring the west end of the square. The church provided cover from the
side of the street where the courthouse sat, and, because of the massive stone
wall that ran between the church and the alley, it also partially blocked the
view from the east. But, from Shelly’s front office window, one could clearly
see if someone had set up a sniper’s nest in the alley.

Shelly was going to remember
seeing Sheriff Stickley in that alley. At the time, it wouldn’t have seemed odd
to her, but now, she was going to realize she needed to tell someone.

Heather hadn’t quite decided if
she was going to use a carrot or a stick to help Shelly with her memory, but
figured she’d make that call on the fly.

As she passed the third
landing, with just one floor left to go, the door from the third floor opened,
and she looked over her shoulder to see Shelly and Stickley enter the stairway.

The door swung closed behind
them and she turned to face them.

“I was looking for you,” she
said to her sister.

Shelly pasted on a smile and
chirped, “You found me!”

Ignoring Stickley, Heather
said, “Did you get rid of the lawyer like I told you to?”

“Um, not yet. I’m on my way to
Jed’s room now. Apparently, he’s taken a turn for the worse, which is good. I’m
sure Sasha will realize it’s over and leave.”

Stickley guffawed. “Right.”

Heather turned to him, “I’m
glad you’re here, too. This will save me some time. Let’s go.”

Shelly and Stickley fell
silent, and the three walked together up the dim stairs.

CHAPTER 44

When the emergency generator whirred
to life, a series of alarms sounded. Translucent boxes mounted at the end of
each hall emitted a wail and a pulsing strobe light for a solid minute.

Then the loudspeaker system
clicked on in a burst of static. A preternaturally calm male voice came through
the speakers: “Do not panic. The hospital-wide earthquake plan is in effect.
Shelter in place. Do not, repeat, do not attempt to leave the building. Take
cover in a doorway, hallway, or against an inside wall. Stay with your
patients. Turn off all nonessential equipment. Do not panic.”

 Sasha and Connelly ran along
the hallway and skidded to a stop in front of Russell.

“Did he say earthquake?” Sasha
asked.

“Yep,” Russell said.

“There’s a fault line here?”
Connelly pressed him.

“Yep,” Russell responded again.
“A minor fault that had been inactive until Big Sky and friends started
injecting wastewater into disposal wells situated along it.”

“Fracking causes earthquakes?”

Russell remained unruffled.
“More like tremors. The theory is the sustained pressure of the injection wells
may cause minor seismic activity.”

He shrugged and then said, “Oh,
I have a location on Doctor Spangler. I asked the sheriff to tell her Craybill is
in distress and we can’t find Brown. They were leaving Gloria’s room before the
tremor hit.”

“Stickley’s with her?”

“Correct.”

Sasha looked at Connelly, then
back to Russell.

“We have a problem,” she began.

Beside her Connelly made a
sharp hissing sound.

She turned to see Spangler and
Stickley hustling down the hall along with a bombshell in a tight, purple,
boucle dress. The woman made Spangler look plain by comparison.

“How is he?” Spangler said,
breathless.

“You know,” Russell said, “I
think it was a false alarm. He seems okay now.” He smiled at her, sheepish and
apologetic.

Annoyance flashed in her eyes.
“I should check on him in any event.”

Sasha cleared her throat. “I
believe you need his guardian’s approval, Dr. Spangler. And we can’t seem to
locate Dr. Brown.”

The doctor turned to her and
snapped, “Of all the petty, short-sighted nonsense.”

The other woman spoke up.
“Shelly, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Spangler bit her lip. “Sure,
sorry. Sasha McCandless, this is my sister, Commissioner Heather Price.
Heather, this is Attorney McCandless.”

Price flashed a wide smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. McCandless. Bob Griggs speaks so highly of
you.”

Sasha smiled back at her. Her
mind was in overdrive. All the local players were here. What was going on?

Connelly cleared his throat. “Special
Agent Leo Connelly, Department of Homeland Security,” he said to the sisters.

“So,” Sasha said, trying to
ignore the questions swirling in her head, “Deputy Russell was just telling us
about the fracking earthquakes, Commissioner.”

Price nodded, “It’s troubling,
isn’t it? That’s one reason the commission thought it appropriate to vote to
consider the drilling moratorium.”

Spangler’s eyes shifted between
her sister and the sheriff.

She started to ease her way to
the edge of the cluster, as if she might take off down the hallway. Connelly
caught it and moved to stand between her and the door to the stairs.

Russell and Stickley each rested
a hand on the butt of his weapon.

Only Price seemed completely
relaxed.

Prevent. Avoid. De-escalate.
Krav Maga’s pre-fight mantra
ran through Sasha’s head.

Sasha moved so she was blocking
the door to Jed’s room. As she did, the floor shifted under her feet and she
braced herself against the wall.

The movement triggered the
strobe lights and the announcement.

As soon as it was quiet,
Russell said, “Dr. Spangler, you might be interested to know that Dr. Brown ran
some tests this morning.”

Spangler’s eyes darted from
Russell to Price.

“Heather,” she bleated.

“What kind of tests, deputy?”
Price asked.

Here we go, Sasha thought, not
at all sure prevention was still viable.

“Turns out, old Jed’s not
suffering from dementia. He’s suffering from an incompetent doctor. Or worse.”

Spangler smiled. “I’m sure
there’s been some mistake.”

Russell shook his head. “I
don’t think so, Shelly. How dare you use me.”

He moved toward her, his
handcuffs in his right hand.

“Sheriff,” he said, “this woman
has been having her patients declared incompetent so she can take over their
land and lease the mineral rights. She’s misusing civil process.”

Stickley chewed his lip for a
minute, and then snuck a peek at Price. Her face was a mask, providing no
guidance, so finally he said, “Detain her. We’ll take her to Dogwood Station.
Make her their problem.”

As Russell snapped the
bracelets around her wrists, Spangler begged her sister to intercede.

“Heather, please!”

“Deputy,” Price said in a soft,
calm voice, “you might want to reconsider.”

Russell looked at her in
disbelief.

“Why’s that, Commissioner?”

“Well, I think—and, Shelly,
correct me if I’m wrong—but I think my sister has information about the judge’s
murder.”

Stickley and Spangler both snapped
their heads toward Price.

Russell turned and looked at the
doctor.

Handcuffed now, she tried to
raise her hands in a confused gesture.

“Heather, what are you talking
about?”

“Tell them, Shelly. Tell them
what you told me, how you saw Sheriff Stickley in the alley beside the church
on Tuesday afternoon right before the judge was killed.”

Spangler looked at her sister,
confusion painted across her face.

“Wait? Wha—”

Stickley erupted at Price. “You
dirty little tramp!”

He pulled his weapon.

Price mocked him. “Are you
going to shoot me the way you shot the judge?”

Russell’s eyes ping-ponged from
Stickley to Spangler to Price.

Connelly moved around behind
Stickley.

Price went on. “He killed Judge
Paulson, deputy. Shelly has information placing him at the scene. And I think,
if you check the alley, you’ll find the angle lines up.”

Russell released Spangler and
drew his own gun. He trained it on his boss.

“Sir?”

“She’s lying, Russell.
She
shot
Paulson because she wants that tape. All I did was go into the office to get it
after she blasted him to kingdom come, but it was already gone.”

Price laughed. “You don’t
seriously expect anyone to believe you, do you, Carl? Especially not when
Shelly’s willing to trade what she knows for some consideration on this
misunderstanding about Mr. Craybill.”

She looked meaningfully at her
sister.

Stickley’s face was red and his
hand was shaking.

Sasha spoke to Stickley in a
calm, quiet voice. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it, sheriff? You’ve done
everything she’s asked. You stole the tapes, framed PORE, and even put up with
the attorney general’s interference. And now she’s going to sell you out to
save her sister? This is the woman you’re in business with?”

The violet eyes flashed at
Sasha.

“Shut up,” Price warned in a
low throaty voice.

Sasha turned to her.

“Or what? Don’t you see it’s
over? For all of you. Springport Hospitality Partners has a paper trail,
Commissioner. Everyone’s going to connect the dots. It doesn’t matter who
pulled the trigger. The three of you are done. Griggs might weasel his way out
of it, but you three are toast.”

Connelly crept up behind the
sheriff, ready to tackle him.

Spangler blurted out, “No, it’s
true. Like Heather said. I saw him.”

Stickley turned from Price to
Spangler and, as he did, Connelly knocked the gun from his hand. It skittered
across the floor and landed at Price’s feet. Sasha lunged for it, but Price got
there first.

As Connelly restrained the
sheriff with his own set of handcuffs, Price trained the gun on Sasha.

Spangler flattened herself
against the wall, and Russell turned his weapon on Price.

Despite being on the business
end of a gun, Sasha felt a perverse relief that they were now down to four
active players and two handcuffed observers.

“Heather, don’t,” her sister
croaked. “It’s over.”

“Shh, Shelly, you don’t know
what you’re talking about.”

Heather motioned with the gun
to Sasha.

“Give me the tape.”

“Sure thing,” Sasha said, nice
and calm. “I’m reaching into my bag to get it.”

She slowly raised her hands to
show she had a tape recorder. She popped the cassette deck and removed the
little tape.

Then, she showed Price the
tape. “See? Here it is. Let’s trade.”

Price threw back her head and
howled with laughter. “Let’s not.”

Sasha shrugged and tossed the
tape at the woman’s feet.

Price looked around the circle.
Russell and Connelly both had their weapons trained on her now, but she seemed
not to notice.

Spangler, having fully accepted
her fate, decided to try to help her sister come to the same conclusion.

“Heather, honey. Put the gun
down. It’s all over. Our deals, the commissioner job, everything. We’re a
disgrace. No different than dad.”

“Don’t you say that, don’t you
dare!” Price waved the gun at her sister.

“It’s true, Heather. We’re
finished. Just, put down the gun.”

“No.”

“Heather, you know I
was
at my front window Tuesday afternoon?”

Price’s head snapped back.

“What?”

“I was. And I did see someone
in the alley.”

Spangler was shaking now, tears
flowing.

“Stop it,” Price said.

“It’s true.”

“Stop it.”

“I saw you. With Lewis’s old
hunting rifle. Your truck was parked in front of the alley, blocking the street
side, but I saw you. I
saw
you, Heather. One perfect shot. Then you
picked up your shell, put Lew’s gun back in the gun rack, and drove away.
I
saw you!
” Spangler was screaming and shaking.

Price jerked the gun, and
Russell dove in front of Spangler.

But Price’s target wasn’t her
sister.

She turned Stickley’s gun
around and aimed it at the roof of her mouth. Sasha turned her head.

One echoing bang later, the white
tile wall behind Heather Price was a mist of red blood and gray matter.