Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Eric had the backup officer take Celeste Barrington in for uttering threats.
Not particularly satisfying because it left the gunwoman in the boardroom unidentified.
He called Lieutenant Coleman to inform him and was given a measure of good news.
One of the hostage takers was ID’d as Carmen Feeney.
Neal told Eric to bench a visit to Radcliffe and go to Feeney’s residence immediately.
He had provided the address and confirmed a search warrant for the house and one for Feeney’s electronics were in place.
Eric rang the bell, and no one answered as expected. He pulled out his lock-picking kit and worked the lock. He was opening the door seconds later.
The place smelled of hickory bacon, and Eric realized he hadn’t eaten much today with all the running around he’d been doing. From the front door, he could see most of the main level. The living room, kitchen, compact dining space, and a hallway that branched off to the right.
He looked down at the carpet and wiped the bottom of his shoes but kept them on. After locking the door behind him, he set out into the house.
Feeney was tidy but not excessively so. Some hair tumbleweeds drifted across the hardwood, and there was a dirty glass on an end table in the living room. The kitchen was clean aside from the frying pan used for the bacon sitting on the stovetop, the cooled grease white inside of it.
Her bed was made, and the top of her dresser was clear except for a picture frame, a navy-blue jewelry box, and a ballerina figurine. The latter didn’t exactly speak of a person who would go into a hospital armed with a gun to terrorize people.
Eric inspected the photograph in the frame.
It was of Carmen Feeney with a woman in her sixties.
Eric would guess from the striking similarities between them, it was most likely Feeney’s mother.
Both were sitting on a bench smiling despite their sterile surroundings.
The wall behind them was a dingy cream. It wasn’t a selfie as their arms and hands were both visible in the shot. Someone had snapped this of them.
He finished up in a room being used as a home office.
There was a small, round, pine dining table serving as the desk with two matching chairs around it.
A bouquet was in a vase next to a laptop, and there was a stack of papers on the makeshift desk.
A florist card poked out between a few orange lilies that had yet to open.
They likely hadn’t arrived more than a day or two before.
Eric plucked the florist’s card to read the note and find out the name of the sender.
Hope these brighten your mood. Love, C.
“Huh.” The message suggested Carmen had been feeling depressed or stressed out recently. Had that led to her walking into Founders Hospital with a gun? And who was C?
Eric gloved up and flipped through the papers on her desk. Most of them were collection notices, and those that weren’t would be headed there soon judging by the Past Due stamps.
He drew his gaze to the floor where there was a round garbage bin. It was mostly full, but he knew from working crime scenes, next to a person’s electronics, garbage was a treasure trove for investigators.
He lifted it up to the table and rooted through it.
There were some tissues but most of it was paper, either bunched up or ripped apart.
One torn piece had the Founders Hospital logo on it, and that had him hunting for the rest of the puzzle.
He laid the fragments out on the table, and the entire picture emerged.
Carmen Feeney owed the hospital a hundred thousand dollars, and her account was being forwarded to collections for nonpayment.
Had Carmen Feeney been ill at one time? But as he asked himself this, his mind flashed on that framed photograph.
He walked back to the bedroom and looked closer. An IV tube was feeding into the back of the older woman’s hand. And there was just the edge of a mobile IV cart. She was unwell. But the statement was in Carmen Feeney’s name…
Could it be that Feeney’s mother had died, leaving her medical debt to her daughter? Based on all the outstanding bills, Feeney didn’t have the money to pay it off.
Had her strained finances pushed Carmen Feeney into the hospital with a gun? But what did she hope to accomplish? And how did the others tie in?
He returned to the home office, but nothing else in the trash revealed anything. He opened the lid on the laptop, and the screen came alive and asked for a password.
Figures…
He closed the lid again and had plans of putting it into a collection bag and taking it to the techies to hack into. A knock on the front door stalled him and had him going to answer it.
A man’s silhouette showed through the tinted glass window in the door. He was holding something in his hand, but it was hard to make out what.
“Who is it?” Eric called out.
“The landlord.”
Eric opened the door with caution, half barricading himself behind the wood. Not that it would stop a bullet from doing serious damage. It should slow it down, though, and hopefully his vest would take care of the rest. It turned out the only thing he was holding was a piece of paper.
“Who are you?” the man asked. “I received a phone call from a neighbor that a man was seen breaking into this home.”
“In that case, you should have called the police, sir.”
The man blanched, a flicker of fear shadowing his eyes.
“But there’s no need to be concerned. I am with the police.” Eric stepped out from behind the door, not sensing any threat from the man. The man was easily in his sixties and carrying some extra weight. “Detective Birch, and I’m executing a search warrant on this residence.”
“A search warrant? Whatever for? Carmen’s in trouble with the police?”
She’s inside Founders Hospital with a gun… “You could say that, sir.”
“Oh my. That doesn’t seem characteristic of her.” The man’s shoulders sagged.
Eric stepped back. “Why don’t you step inside, and we’ll talk in here?”
The man did so without a word.
“What is your name?” Eric asked him.
“Garth Deleon.”
“And what’s that you have there?” Eric pointed to the paper in the man’s hand.
“Oh, this.” He handed it over to Eric. “I don’t want to do this, but I can’t afford to have this property sitting here not making me money.”
The words EVICTION NOTICE across the top of the page were impossible to miss. “You were evicting her? I believe evictions need to be handled through the US Marshals office.”
“They do. This is just a letter from my lawyer’s office threatening eviction. I was hoping that it would shake her up enough that she’d pay me.”
“How far behind is she?”
“Six months. She wasn’t taking my phone calls anymore or calling me back.”
Eric’s mind went to the pile of outstanding bills, and he could understand why Feeney had been avoiding her landlord. She had nothing to give him. “But she used to communicate with you?”
“Yes, she was always respectful and pleasant. That’s why I handed over the keys to her, but she hasn’t been the same in months. Would you, please, tell me what’s going on here?”
“I’m not comfortable saying any more than I already have.” Not to her landlord… “How well do you know Carmen?”
“Not terribly well. I live on the next block, and we don’t talk much. Especially recently, as I told you. In the past, though, she’s always been kind. Something changed her.”
“Do you know what?”
“No.”
Eric considered getting the picture to show Garth, but from his statement, he didn’t know Feeney well. It was unlikely he’d be able to identify the older woman. Though, Eric asked, “She received flowers from someone with a name starting with C. Any idea who that might be?”
“Colton maybe?”
“And who is he?”
“Her boyfriend. He lives two doors down from me, and I’ve seen Carmen visiting. He’s in the blue house.”
“Do you know how long they’ve been involved?”
“I think I first saw her there at least a year ago. But you know how time goes. It could be longer.”
Eric pulled out his phone and showed Garth pictures of both gunmen. One looked closer to Feeney’s age while the other man looked as old as the landlord, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “Are either of these men Colton?”
“No.”
“And neither look familiar to you? They didn’t come around here?”
“As I said, I don’t live close enough to see all the comings and goings here, so I really couldn’t say.”
“Fair enough. Do you know Colton’s last name?” Eric thought he’d ask even though Garth already told him where to find Colton.
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“Well, thank you for all your help.”
“Uh-huh.” Garth turned to leave, pivoted around again. “She is okay, though, right? She didn’t get herself in so deep that there’s no turning things back around?”
Eric couldn’t assure that and settled on saying, “Time will tell.”
Garth stood there for a few seconds, nodded, and then left.
Eric called Lieutenant Coleman. As he listened to it ring, the pieces were coming together. Feeney had to know she was getting close to being evicted. Had that been the final breaking point for her?