Chapter Eleven Fitting the Pieces Together #2
Regina returned to Sunnydale after her lunch break and her secret visit to the hospital. As she approached the security gate, the guard noticed Regina had left the premises. “You don’t usually go out to lunch, Regina. Special occasion?”
“I had to get a gift for my sister.” Regina was surprised at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue.
“Birthday?” the guard asked in a friendly manner.
“Yes. She’s turning thirty!” Regina continued the charade.
Her sister was going to be thirty, but not for another eight months.
It was a half-truth. “See ya.” She pulled away as soon as he pressed the button that lifted the gate.
Regina noticed her palms were sweaty. Had she gotten herself in too deep?
Jeremy wasn’t a close friend, but he was a work buddy.
Nice guy. Polite. Always held the door open for people.
But was it worth getting in trouble for him?
She parked her car in the designated space and made her way back to her office.
She was feeling a bit jumpy and was grateful no one was around.
She sat at her computer and typed in Jeremy Sykes’s name.
Nothing. Zilch. Zero. Surely there had to be something in the company records.
She searched for other files, but everything was password-protected except her Excel accounting files.
That was when she noticed files from the previous month had been deleted.
That was strange. Regina knew that she didn’t delete anything.
She usually saved the files in case there were any questions from upper management.
In fact, for extra protection, she always made a copy on a flash drive.
She opened her desk drawer and was shocked to see that the flash drive was gone.
She rummaged through the paper clips, rubber bands, pens, and a staple remover.
She could swear she left it in one of the compartments of the drawer organizer.
She felt a chill, and goosebumps rose on her arms. Someone had to have taken it.
But who? Things were feeling creepier by the minute.
Maggie grabbed a bag of chips that was sitting in a basket of treats.
“Annie, you’re a gem!” Maggie said to no one.
Once she had her salt rush, she washed it down with a chocolate cookie and a swig of water.
She checked her teeth for any debris, splashed some water on her face, pulled her hair back in a clip, and pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder. It was time to get down to business.
Once she arrived at the hospital, she inquired about Jeremy Sykes.
“Family member?” the woman at the desk asked.
Maggie did not hesitate. “Yes, I just flew in from Virginia.” She had no idea where Jeremy’s family was from, but Virginia sounded as good as anything.
The woman gave Maggie a visitor pass and reminded her of the time limit. Maggie thanked her and rode the elevator to the fifth floor. She stopped at the nurse’s station to inquire as to which room Mr. Sykes was in.
“That boy is very popular today,” the nurse said cheerfully.
“Oh?” Maggie asked with a smile.
“A pretty woman—oh, sorry. You’re not his girlfriend, are you?”
Maggie chuckled. “No, a cousin.”
“Well, you are the first family member to arrive.” The nurse leaned over the counter. “It’s a shame they have him shackled. There’s no way that young man is going anywhere.”
“Shackled? Ah, yes,” Maggie sighed. “I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding.”
“I hope so. He seems like a nice fella. Not that I’ve had any real contact with him, but he has a nice face and hasn’t hit the call button since he woke up.”
“When was that?” Maggie asked with a smile.
“A few hours ago. Then the lady came, and then a detective.”
“I should go and say hello before they have a hall monitor kick me out for overstaying my allotted time.”
“They do that for the patient’s sake. Sometimes people just want to hover, and it makes it hard for the patient to relax. You know, having someone staring at you all the time.”
“You have a very good point,” Maggie replied. “I’ll be on my way. Thank you.”
Maggie hurried into Jeremy’s room. She knew she had wasted some precious time with small talk.
She slowly approached his bed. “Hi, Jeremy. My name is Maggie. I was asked to come here by my publisher. We’re doing a story on the growing number of hit-and-run accidents that are happening across the country. ”
He nodded in acknowledgment and let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time; plus, the visitor police will throw me out.”
Jeremy gave her a weak smile.
“Would it be alright if I came back tomorrow? Hopefully, you’ll feel better?”
“I didn’t do it,” he said in a harsh whisper. He was losing steam.
“Do what?”
He jiggled the handcuffs. “Morphine. I didn’t take it.”
“You didn’t take the morphine? As in ingest it?”
He shut his eyes and slowly turned his head from side to side. “I didn’t steal it.”
“Is that what they’re saying?” Maggie’s eyes grew wide.
Jeremy nodded and closed his eyes.
Maggie leaned in closer. “You get some rest. We will get to the bottom of this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Maggie left the room and briefly spoke to the nurse. “May I leave my contact information with you? I’m staying at the Suite Inn. I’ll be here for a while. Could you or someone call me if he needs anything?”
The nurse leaned over the counter once again. “Maybe a good lawyer?”
Maggie gave her a long wink. “I’ll see what I can do, but first I have to find out what in the Sam Hill is going on.”
The nurse looked at Maggie. “Can you tell me why people use that expression? I hear it so many times, but I never bothered to find out.”
Maggie was happy to oblige. “Sam Hill was an engineer who had a foul mouth. After a time, people began to use his name in place of expletives.”
“Well, I’ll be darned. Or should I say, ‘I’ll be Sam Hilled!’” She chuckled.
Maggie gave her a thumbs-up and wrote her info on a sheet of paper. She noted the name tag. “Thanks, Clara. See you tomorrow.”
“Not if I see you first!” the nurse joked.
Maggie hightailed it back to her hotel. She didn’t have a lot of information, but this was enough to share.
She checked the time. She had several hours before the group video call and decided to visit the local police station to see if she could get a copy of the police report.
She made sure she had her press credentials and gave herself a quick look in the mirror.
“Respectable,” she muttered to her reflection.
Before she left, she sent a text to Annie to let her know of her brief interaction with Sykes and that she was now heading to the police station.
When she arrived, she identified herself and asked if she could get a copy of the police report. “It’s for a story on the growing number of hit-and-run incidents.”
A young, fresh-faced cadet listened carefully, then scrutinized her press badge. “Just a moment.” He went into another room and returned with an older, more senior member.
“Good afternoon, Miss Spritzer. Detective Knowles. How can I help you?”
“I was explaining to Officer Kinsky that I am working on a piece for The Washington Post regarding hit-and-run incidents. Did you know they are up over seventy-three percent in the past two years?” Maggie had done her homework.
“No, I had no idea. That is a startling statistic.”
“It is. And many of them are on deserted roads, which would make sense. No witnesses. No security cameras.”
“Good point. So, what is it that you need?”
“If it wouldn’t be any trouble, I’d like to see a copy of the report on the accident that happened two days ago on Highway Fifty-nine. A young man named Jeremy Sykes.”
The officer’s expression changed. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”
“I see. But could you share some of the basic details with me? Time of day? Vehicle impact?”
“I suppose that won’t be a problem. Come with me.” Maggie followed the police sergeant to a small conference room. “Please have a seat. Give me a minute.”
Maggie certainly wasn’t going to share what little information she gleaned from Jeremy. She was primarily interested in whether or not the two stories were in sync.
The sergeant returned with a manila file.
Maggie pulled out her notebook. “According to the officer on scene, Mr. Sykes was run off the road by a dump truck. Sykes was dazed and could only remember a few details. He said there were no discernible markings on the truck, no plate, but again, he said it happened extremely fast.”
“And that was it?” Maggie wondered if he was going to reveal the morphine connection.
“As I mentioned, it’s an ongoing investigation.”
“And no one has come forward?” Maggie was scribbling doodles. She already knew the answer.
“Not yet, I’m afraid.”
Over the years, Maggie became proficient in reading things upside down.
She saw the words morphine vial found in vehicle; owner denies any knowledge.
She also noticed that the ink was blue for that passage, whereas the other part of the report was written in black ink.
The owner denies knowledge must have been added. She made a mental note.
“I thank you very much for your time. If there is any other information you can share, please give me a buzz.” This time, she handed over her official business card.
“Will do,” he said, but Maggie doubted it.
The sergeant may not be part of the cover-up or the setup, but she was certain something was amiss.
By the time she got back to the hotel, her stomach was growling for some real food.
She had met her junk food quota for the day, and the basket of snacks was empty.
She phoned the front desk and asked for a restaurant recommendation, and the nearest grocery store.
Time to replenish the basket. The front desk recommended a local bistro that had authentic local cuisine.
Maggie wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was up for finding out.