Chapter 20
20
“Are you okay, man?” Brad asked the following day as they drove toward the building that held all the Eastern Shore Health Services.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I admit I hate showing up without letting Karen know ahead of time that we’re coming. That feels like I’m trying to blindside her.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you being on this trip to get some answers,” Brad assured. “But you could always have let Aaron or Sam come.”
“I thought about that. But let’s face it… this isn’t big city law enforcement… we know a lot of the people who live around here. We deal with only a few cases where we don’t know something about someone, whether a victim or a suspect. If we took ourselves off every case just because we knew someone, we wouldn’t get anything done.”
“You’re right. It’s one of the beauties and curses of living in an area where we know so many people.”
They pulled into the parking lot, and Mark didn’t see Karen’s vehicle. “Maybe I should’ve called. She might be out of the office on a case. I didn’t even think about that.”
“We may not even need to talk to her on this trip. Let’s see what we can find out about the patient list.”
Once inside, they walked to the reception desk and waited as no one was around. A young woman walked from the back, glanced at the empty desk, then approached them with a smile. “Good morning. Our receptionist just stepped into the back, and she’ll be right here. We were having issues with our copier. You may wait, or is there something I can help you with?”
They pulled out their badges, and Brad said, “I’m Detective Stowe, and this is Detective Robbins. Is Karen Drummond available?”
“I’m sorry, but Karen isn’t in this morning. I believe one of her daughters had a dental appointment, so she’ll be in the office later.”
“Are you familiar with the workings of the office? The way client records come in and who has the information?”
“Yes, absolutely.” She smiled and added, “I’m Sharon Bundy. I’m one of the therapists here. Would you like to come back to a more private room?”
They followed her down a short hall and into a room with a round table and four chairs. She invited them to sit, and Brad closed the door behind them. Once seated, Mark pulled out his notepad and began. “Ms. Bundy, we are working on a few cases and need to have an idea of how the process works here. How do patients come in, and how do they get into your system?”
Her brow furrowed at his questions, and her tongue dragged over her bottom lip. “Well, um… patients can call or drop by. Um… sometimes it’s the patient or a relative or a caregiver. Often, a referral is from a hospital or rehabilitation facility.”
“Okay, and then what happens?” Mark prompted.
“Oh… well, when a call comes in, the receptionist takes down the basic information, and it’s given to Karen.”
“Why Ms. Drummond?”
“I suppose it might go to Emily… um… Emily Klein. She’s the director of the whole Eastern Shore Home Health, but as far as I know, the information goes to Karen. She’s our head nurse for all patients.”
“Okay. And what happens after that?”
“Basically, Karen visits the home as soon as the patient is out of the rehab facility or the hospital. She makes an assessment, checks the house, then determines what they need and which one of us would be assigned to work with them.”
“What kind of work would that be?”
“Whatever therapy or medical assistance they need.”
“Not all of you are in each of the homes?”
“Oh no. Karen is the only one who goes to all the homes. She’s the one who makes the assessments.”
After a few more questions, they thanked Sharon and walked out to their SUV. Mark was glad Brad had kept his mouth shut, considering that Mark was battling a sick feeling that hit his chest directly.
As soon as they were seated in the SUV, Brad said, “You know?—”
“I know, I know. Karen is the only one who has been in every single house of the victims.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s involved.”
Mark twisted around and pinned Brad with an angry stare. “You think I’m not aware of that? I know in my gut she’s not involved. Yet she is now someone we have to interview. Not just someone who can give us information, but a person of interest.”
As soon as they returned to the station, they immediately headed to Colt’s office, finding him seated behind his desk. He looked up, lifted a brow, and said, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Mark didn’t see any reason to delay the inevitable. “Karen Drummond, someone we know from the American Legion and have met in other professional settings, will need to be questioned. And she’s the woman I’m dating.”
Mark ignored Brad’s wince and Colt’s continued lifted brow. Colt picked up his phone and jabbed at a button. “Lucille? Send John Sullivan and Elizabeth Perez into my office now, please.” He hung up the phone, then inclined his head to the chairs in front of his desk. “Might as well take a seat.”
No one said anything for a moment, and Mark felt each tick of the clock like a pounding in his head. After a moment, there was a knock on the door, and Colt barked, “Come in.”
John and Elizabeth walked in, looked at the other detectives, and then stood to the side after closing the door. Mark lifted his chin to them, but no one spoke.
“Okay, let’s have it,” Colt ordered, his voice firm and commanding as he leaned forward, eyes sharp with anticipation.
Mark shifted in his seat, glancing at Brad, thankful his partner understood the unspoken plea for him to take the lead. The last thing Mark wanted was to stumble through this conversation, not with so much at stake.
Brad cleared his throat and began. “We’ve been searching for patterns in all the breaking-and-entering cases. At first, nothing lined up—location, socioeconomic background of the victims, type of house, or the victims’ ages. It was all over the place. But then something clicked for Mark yesterday when we interviewed the latest victims. Every single one had recently been in the hospital or a rehabilitation facility.” Brad paused, letting that sink in before continuing. “From there, Mark made the connection. What if someone from Eastern Shore Home Health Services was involved, knowingly or not? Yesterday afternoon, we re-interviewed every victim by phone. Turns out they all either are or were receiving services from Eastern Shore Home Health.”
Brad glanced over at Mark, who was rubbing the back of his neck, trying to stave off the tension headache that had been building since morning. It wasn’t just the investigation that weighed on him—it was Karen. And what came next.
Mark’s voice was strained when he finally spoke. “Karen Drummond is the lead home health nurse for Eastern Shore. She’s the one constant in all of this.” He met the eyes of Elizabeth and John, feeling the tension settle heavier in the room. “She’s also the woman I’ve been seeing… we’re dating.”
“This morning, we went to talk to Karen to get a clearer picture of how the system works,” Brad explained. “She wasn’t available, so we spoke with one of the therapists. That’s when we learned how it works—Karen is the one who evaluates the patients and their homes. She decides what services they need. Some of our victims had a physical therapist, others a speech therapist or an occupational therapist, but none of them saw the same group of people. Karen is the only person who’s been in every single one of their homes.”
Mark swallowed hard, each word feeling heavier than the last. “So, we need to talk to her,” he admitted, his voice tight with the weight of it. “But now… now she’s not just someone we’re talking to as part of the investigation. She’s someone we need to interview fully.”
Colt’s sharp gaze shifted to John and Elizabeth. “That’s why you two are here. Mark won’t be part of the interview, and while Brad can take the lead, I want someone else conducting the actual questioning.”
Mark’s stomach twisted, the knot in his chest growing tighter. “Does she have to come in?” he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. He didn’t even bother hiding the raw emotion that surfaced. The idea of Karen feeling intimidated by being dragged into this situation in such a formal way made him ache.
Elizabeth leaned forward, her voice measured. “We can interview her at the office, but it may not be private enough. Would we be able to ensure confidentiality?”
Brad’s grimace answered before he spoke. “The home health offices are busy. Therapists, patients—people come and go. I can’t guarantee we’d have a quiet, private place to ask what we need to.”
Mark’s gaze swung from Brad to Colt. Colt also held his gaze, then nodded. “Okay. Brad, you and Elizabeth go ask her to come in. Obviously, she’s under no obligation to come, but help convince her that it will assist in the investigation. John, you stay here with Mark. We want everything done carefully and by the book. There’s no reason to upset her, but we also don’t want the DA to balk at how this was handled in case we get information that leads us to the perpetrators.”
As Brad stood, he gripped Mark’s shoulder. Then he left with Elizabeth. John stepped out of the office, leaving Mark with Colt.
“What are you thinking, Mark?” Colt asked, his tone softer now as if sensing the turmoil rolling beneath the surface.
Mark ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Karen is the first woman I’ve met since I lost Sue years ago that I’m excited about spending time with. The relationship is new, but… but it’s good, Colt. I haven’t felt like this in a long fucking time.”
Colt’s expression remained steady, his dark brow lifting slightly. “You think this is going to kill the relationship?”
He squeezed the back of his neck again, his pulse pounding against his palm. “Not necessarily. But it’s a fucking weird situation. She’s going to wonder why I didn’t say anything before now. I didn’t text or call her last night because this was hanging over me. I thought we could talk to her this morning, and it would be all over. Now, we have to actually question her. Officially. Here.” His words hung in the air, the enormity of it all settling deeper into his bones. “I don’t know, Colt. I just have a bad feeling about all of this.”
Colt lifted a dark brow. “About her involvement?”
“No!” Mark rushed, shaking his head. “About if she’s going to be hurt over being questioned and blame me.”
Colt didn’t offer comforting words or reassurances. He simply nodded, understanding the gravity of Mark’s situation. And for that, Mark was grateful. No platitudes, no sugarcoating, just the reality of the mess he was in. Standing, Colt gave a brief chin lift before Mark walked out of the room. Now, Mark was alone with his thoughts, and the tension settled heavily on his shoulders as he braced himself for what came next.