Courting Death Page 9

  The young woman’s mouth thinned and her body stiffened. Hmm.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  Without preamble he demanded, “Is Melissa there?”

  “Yes, she is.” I kept my gaze on her. “What’s going on? Did you two have a fight?”

  “She’s just like you. Won’t listen to reason when she gets her mind set.”

  “Nasty family trait.” I motioned for her to go into the living room where Kate sat with livid curiosity on her face. I figured this call was going to take a while.

  “Don’t get flippant with me.” Irritation was sharp in Dad’s crisp voice. “Rather than taking the internship at my company, Melissa wants to work in a law firm. She got admitted into law school without consulting with either her mother or myself about what she was planning.” What? My sister had been destined to work for the Sterling electronics business.

  I gave Melissa a nod. “Congratulations on getting into law school.”

  She sat on the sofa next to Kate and lifted her chin. Another Sterling trademark. “Thank you.”

  Two eggrolls in hand, Sam strolled into the room. His intent gaze went from me to Melissa. “I figured you all would be hungry.”

  Mentally groaning, I sank into one of the wingback chairs. He offered one to me and then went over to my sister. “Here. I’m Sam Bowie.”

  “Melissa Sterling. I’m Nicole’s—”

  “Sister.” Sam nodded. “She’s told me all about you.”

  I had? I took a vicious bite of the eggroll.

  “She has?” Melissa shot me a quick glance.

  Kate folded her arms and glared at Sam. “You didn’t bring me a roll?”

  “Got you covered, honey.” Gabe wandered in with a white paper bag. Close on his heels was Carling, who plopped herself down on the sofa on the other side of my sister. Somehow they seemed to be offering her a frontline of support. After handing Kate a roll, Gabe stood next to Sam. The spacious room suddenly overflowed with people. I downed the rest of my eggroll.

  “Hello? Nicole? What’s going on?”

  I leaned back in the chair and spoke into the phone. “An impromptu convention, Dad. Care to join in?”

  I could hear him muttering under his breath about daughters. “Listen. You’ve always been Melissa’s idol.”

  “I have?” Startled, I glanced at her but by now a cool, restrained expression had slipped over her face.

  “Yes, so here’s how I look at it. If she’s around an actual law practice, she’ll learn fast enough that it’s all about money and not some lofty concept of justice. Just like you did.”

  His observation sucker punched me. Granted, I had burned out for a little bit, but I hadn’t lost faith in the justice system. I hadn’t sold out. My fingers tightened on the cell’s case. “Did I?”

  Dad ignored my question in his typical quest to get what he wanted. “If she could spend a few weeks working for you, I figure she’ll see the light and come home.”

  “Dad.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s not so simple. I have two partners. I’ll need to discuss Melissa interning at our office with them.”

  Both Kate and Carling straightened, looked at each other and then at my sister. Kate smiled. “We’ve been talking about advertising for a law clerk at one of the local schools.”

  I stared at her. “We talked about it as one of the stepping stones when we had enough business.”

  Carling waved a hand. “And we do. All that publicity brought in a flood of new clients. I could use a hand with research.”

  “We could use someone to run to the court,” Kate added.

  Melissa gave me a cautious look. “I’ll work real hard for you, Nicole. And I can help you out around the house. I’ll sleep on the sofa if there’s no room.”

  Hence the suitcase. Dad and his family lived in Hallendale along the beach so it would be quite a drive every day in congested traffic.

  Kate said, “She could help fill in for Sophie and give you time to look for a good caretaker.”

  Everyone stared at me, waiting for my answer. I ventured a glance at Sam and he cocked his eyebrow in silent challenge. I pressed my forehead against the palm of my hand and wondered what the hell I was getting myself into.

  “Fine, Dad. Melissa can stay with me and work at our office as a clerk.”

  Kate and Carling high-fived each other and then hugged a stunned Melissa. Dad and I made a few more arrangements before hanging up. My sister swallowed. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “I found the album, Nicole,” Mom sang out as she entered the room. The conversation halted and everyone’s mouth dropped open. She wore a leopard-spotted unitard with tufts of hair. The scent of mothballs drifted on the air.

  I had to hand it to her; she always knew how to make an entrance. I settled back for the show. “Oh good, Mom. Cats. One of my favorites.”

  Chapter Nine

  Later that afternoon I set up my laptop and eraser board in the Florida room. Since Melissa was taking the spare bedroom I used as an office, I had enlisted my friends to help move my stuff out. Once the game was over, everyone had left. However, Sam had lingered until I booted him out after returning his prized cap. With Mom taking her afternoon nap and Melissa settling in, I had craved that rare moment of peace and quiet and no people.

  I perched on the edge of the sofa and started to gather the newspaper tossed about the glass-top coffee table. The words hospital and grant in a headline caught my attention, and I scanned the article. When I finished reading, I whistled softly.

  “Something interesting in the news?” Melissa stood uncertainly just inside the room.

  Might as well see how my suspicions sounded aloud. “A biomedical facility called OraGen has donated a large grant to the Oceanview Medical Center.” Suddenly, the name clicked, and excitement hummed inside me. One of the institute’s brochures had been on display in the Depp Funeral Home.

  “Oceanview’s where you were attacked.”

  “Yes.” Despite the hospital’s attestations that it wanted the culprit caught, its team of attorneys had effectively stymied the police investigation. I rose and drew a triangle on the eraser board. One point I labeled suppliers, listing funeral homes and hospitals. The second point, distribution. I noted ice cream trucks and a ? for others. The third point I tagged collection/sales center.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I like to map out a case from timelines to all the possible suspects.”

  “But I thought your client hasn’t been charged with anything yet.”

  I paused and gave Melissa a tight smile. “You’re correct.”

  “Then why bother with all this?” She pointed at the board.

  My flippant answer of “once a prosecutor always a prosecutor” died on my lips when my mother appeared in the archway, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  I put down the marker. “Mom, what’s wrong.”

  “They’re coming for me,” she wailed. “I saw them standing around my bed waiting for me to die so they can steal my body.”

  I wrapped my arms around her shaking shoulders and drew her frail frame close. Alzheimer’s was not only sucking her essence away but also leeching her physical body as well.

  “Don’t you worry. I won’t let them get you.”

  I looked over at Melissa. “Why am I working a case that’s not mine? Because it’s personal. They made it personal when they attacked me in the hospital, and now Mom’s dreaming of bogeymen.”

  Understanding lit Melissa’s eyes and she nodded. “Here, Mom.” I guided her to her favorite chair. “Sit down and we’ll play your favorite movie.”

  She sniffed. “Sound of Music?”

  “You bet.” I went to the TV cabinet, sorted through the DVDs and found the musical. I popped it into the player and turned the set on. The phone rang and Melissa sprang up to get it.

  I adjusted the set’s volume. “Nicole, it’s for you.” She came back into the room and extended the portable phone.


  “Thanks.” As the opening scene rang out, Mom joined Julie Andrews in singing about the hills being alive with music, and I crossed into the living room.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Maria.” Maria was the firm’s go-to secretary. “The office messaging center forwarded me a call from Brian Whitman. The police have arrested Claire.”

  “Call him back and tell him I’m on my way.” I disconnected and walked to the stand to replace the phone. I was mentally ticking off what I needed to do when I noticed the message light blinking. I pressed Play. A rough voice spoke in a sing-song manner.

  “Annette Sterling, we’re coming to take you away, ha-ha. We’re coming to take away your flesh and bones, ho-ho, hee-hee.”

  I heard a gasp behind me and a white-faced Melissa came to stand beside me. “Nicole, that message.”

  “Yes.” Fury raged inside me as I hit Save on the machine. “The call didn’t come in this morning before I left for the race. Sophie mentioned she had left Mom alone for a few minutes right before she had her spell. I bet Mom overheard the message as it was being recorded.” I jotted Sam’s number on the notepad I kept by the phone. “Here. Call Sam and tell him about this. Get his ass out here. I’ll be home as soon as I bail out my client.”

  Still pale, Melissa nodded. I started to turn but paused. I reached out and touched her arm. “I know you walked into a mess, and I won’t blame you if you want to get out of here. But please wait until I get home.”

  The shadows lightened in her eyes and she gave me a fierce hug. “I’m not going anywhere. We Sterlings have to stick together, right?” She released me. “Besides, you’re right.” She tapped the phone. “This is personal.”

  “Damn straight.” I’d get the bastards who dared terrify a sick woman. I raced into my bedroom and changed. Grabbing my purse, I headed out to the front door. I heard singing and crossed into the living room. From my vantage point I watched as Melissa leaned forward and joined Mom in the final bars of “Do Re Mi.”

  The heavy chain that had been hanging around my neck for so long suddenly felt lighter.

  A sharp, cold wind whipped through the detention center parking lot. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me as I watched Brian Whitman bundle his almost-catatonic wife into a car being driven by a family friend. During the first appearance she’d stood so withdrawn beside me that I’d had to nudge her to get her attention.

  Fortunately, the bail had been low given the nature of the charge. The judge had deemed the defendant not to be a risk to others or for flight. That didn’t mean she wasn’t a risk to herself.

  Brian patted his wife’s shoulder. “I’ll be home as soon as I swing by the office to get some paperwork.” He shut the door and hunched his shoulders as he watched the car drive off. When he turned, he started at seeing me. He gestured with his hand at a black SUV a few spaces away.

  “Do you need a ride? I have to pick up several charts of patients Damian has agreed to take on.”

  “No thanks. I have my car here.” I hesitated then stepped closer to him. “Brian, Claire needs a mental health specialist.”

  The overhead lights threw his face into stark relief. Dark shadows deeply underlined his eyes and weariness carved his face. He too was on the brink, I realized.

  “We have an appointment tomorrow to see a psychiatrist Damian recommended.”

  I lightly touched his arm. “Be sure to take care of yourself as well.”

  “Don’t worry. The appointment is for both of us.”

  “Good. I’ll call you later this week to go over the defense. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to get the hospital records. I’m going to try to corner either the administrator or the pathologist tonight.”

  “Oh?” His eyebrow shot up. “No rest for the defense, huh?” He smiled. “Nicole, I can’t thank you enough for all your support during this tough time.”

  “You’re welcome. Just get some rest.”

  “Will do.” He got into the driver’s side of the SUV and moments later the taillights glowed red as he sped off.

  With my own car keys in hand, I stood considering the stygian darkness. Sam had called earlier to report that he’d retrieved the phone message. He also told me black-and-whites would make frequent patrols of the neighborhood. I had already called the phone company to change our number. While a new number wouldn’t deter someone bent on harassing me and my family, it would buy me time to go on the offensive.

  The Oceanview Medical Center was only a short drive away. I remembered seeing the phone message that tied Hassenfeld and Depp together. With the funeral director dead that left only the pathologist to question.

  I pulled out my cell and made a quick call. Pretending to be a funeral home needing to pick up a body, I confirmed Dr. Hassenfeld was the pathologist on duty tonight. Satisfaction filled me as I made the next call.

  “Hello, Red.” Sam’s voice rumbled in my ear. “I’m having the phone company track all calls made to your house over the past few days.”

  Good thing I took most business calls on my cell.

  “I thought I’d give you a head’s up that I’m heading over to Oceanview to interview Hassenfeld again.”

  “Nicole, you can’t do—”

  “This is a courtesy call. Come or don’t come. Bye.” I hung up and slid into the front seat. With any luck, I could be at Hassenfeld’s office before Sam came charging in.

  Ten minutes later, after ignoring several calls from Sam, I pulled into the entrance of the hospital parking lot. Red and blue lights flashed on the far side. I found a spot close to the entrance and parked. A police car turned into the lot, its tires squealing, and sped to where the other lights glared.

  I crossed the lot and saw a group of people gathered in a semicircle. Oceanview’s administrator Dr. Rosa Cruz stood weeping while one man patted her shoulder. Dread formed a sick ball in my stomach as I approached.

  Spotlights threw garish light on the stained sheet covering a body sprawled on the blacktop. The shroud itself was pitched at unnatural angles. A black pool emanated from one end. Silhouetted against the macabre scene, one man stood with his hand on his hip, staring at me. Sam.

  He motioned to an officer, ducked under the crime scene tape and then walked toward me. Without breaking pace, he took my arm and propelled me away from the spectators. “Damn it, Nicole. I don’t have time to babysit you right now.”

  I dug my heels. “I don’t recall asking for your protection. What’s happening?”

  Sam’s jaw turned to granite. “It’s Hassenfeld. A hit-and-run as he was walking to his car.”

  As the implications struck me, I wrapped my arms around my middle to stave off a shudder. “Anyone see the vehicle?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “We’re interviewing witnesses now but so far nothing. I got the call right after I left your house. Go home. You can’t do any good here and the person you came to see is dead.”

  Sam turned and walked back to the taped-off area. I rubbed my arms, aware of the bone-freezing chill of the night. I resigned myself to going home, but then Dr. Cruz broke out in a fresh bout of sobbing. I crossed over to where she was standing.

  “Dr. Cruz, I don’t know if you remember me—”

  “You’re that attorney.” Her lip curled in a sneer.

  “Yes, Doctor. I represent the Whitmans.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” The man in the white lab coat who had been patting her shoulder glared at me. There was always more than one way to get information so I switched tactics.

  “I totally understand, Dr. Cruz. I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Dr. Hassenfeld. I really enjoyed meeting him that one time. He had a larger than life personality.”

  Another round of tears welled in her eyes. I groped about in my bag for the travel package of tissues I always carried and offered it to her.

  “Thank you.” The woman took a moment to blot her face and blow her nose.

  “In fact I was meeting with him tonight.” Nicely done, I th
ought. I didn’t say whether the pathologist had been expecting me.

  “Oh.” She crumpled the tissue in her hands. “David didn’t mention it to me.”

  “What a shame. I was hoping he’d located Rebecca Whitman’s records.”

  “Those records?” Dr. Cruz shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t have anything to do with them. Besides, they haven’t been found.”

  Another dead end. I tried another angle. “I’d asked him for information about OraGen. My firm has a client who has expressed interest in donating her organs.”

  The other woman gave me a mournful smile. “That well may be David’s lasting tribute to the hospital.”

  “He was instrumental in getting the grant?”

  “Oh yes. He met the CEO at some seminar and one thing led to another through the connection.”

  Were there other connections? Had the pathologist been involved in the organ pipeline? He’d once been a heart surgeon, after all. However, I didn’t think I would learn anything more tonight.

  “Perhaps OraGen would consider putting Dr. Hassenfeld’s name on the new division?”

  “Perhaps. An excellent suggestion, Ms. Sterling.” She took one last look at the tarp and said under her breath, “Now that bitch ex-wife will no longer be able to hound him about money.”

  “That bad a separation? He mentioned he was divorced.”

  She shook her head. “The worst. But if you will excuse me, I need to call his family.”

  “Of course.”

  Dr. Cruz turned and walked toward the nearest hospital entrance. I had a case with no clear direction. It was as if all the play’s actors had scattered off the stage with only an invisible director to script the next scene. That disembodied voice that had terrified my mother.

  Dread slithered around my chest and squeezed. Where could I turn now for information?

  Chaos still reigned as the curious onlookers stood in pockets talking and gesturing around the taped-off area. Flashes of light exploded as a photographer recorded every detail. One tech placed markers while another made measurements. In the center of the storm, Sam stood still, his hands planted on his hips as he studied the scene.