Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Dan stared at the gray bricks of the Good Shepherd Community Care facility. The only splash of color in sight was the stylized swirl of red that represented the letters G and S. Trees grew around the building, breaking up its outline.
“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
He gave a start. Gary stood beside the car, gazing intently at him.
“What makes you think I’ve got something on my mind?”
Gary rolled his shoulder in a slight shrug. “You haven’t said a word since we left the precinct.” His eyes sparkled. “You didn’t even notice when I told you how good you looked today.”
Despite his churning stomach, Dan managed a wry smile. “I look good, do I?”
“And now you’re just fishing. Not to mention avoiding the question.” Gary smiled back. “By the way, you always look good.”
The compliment skimmed over the top of Dan’s head.
It’s no use. I have to tell him.
“Look… before we go in there….”
Gary froze. “Something’s wrong.”
“Not exactly, but….” He took a deep breath.
“I’m not comfortable using my gift where Chris Reed is concerned.
” He swallowed. “We know he’s dying. Using my gift in these circumstances feels—at least it does to me—as though it would be a gross invasion of privacy.
Put it this way. I wouldn’t want someone inside my head if the roles were reversed.
” He held his hands up. “I know by doing this I’m cutting off an avenue of investigation, but taking a step back is the more ethical thing to do. ”
Gary’s gaze held nothing but compassion. “Then that’s what you should do.”
“You’re okay with that?” Except part of him had known Gary would support him, and it had nothing to do with the fact that they were in a—fledgling—relationship.
It had everything to do with the kind of man Gary was.
“Of course. So before we get in there…. You’re my coworker, okay? Ask whatever you like.”
“Thank you.” The tension that had crept across Dan’s shoulders on the way there had already begun to dissipate. He followed Gary to the entrance and stood back while Gary explained their visit. He’d informed the facility the previous evening as soon as Linda Sebring had finished her call.
The nurse—Rebecca, according to her name tag—checked her monitor.
“Okay, what you both need to know is, Mr. Reed is on BiPAP. This is an assistive device that requires a mask, and it allows him to stay awake and speak. Right now he’s exhausted and in pain, but he’s insisting we hold off on his medication until he’s spoken with you. ”
“But why?” Gary asked.
“It makes him sleep, too foggy to think straight. What I will tell you is this. Someone in his condition has to be damned determined to use whatever strength he has to participate in what sounds as if it’s going to be an emotionally and physically taxing conversation.
” She looked Gary in the eye. “Whatever he has to tell you must be really important.” Rebecca pointed ahead of them.
“Keep going that way. Mr. Reed’s room is right before you reach the garden. His wife will meet you.”
The hallways were quiet but for the music playing in the background, low and unobtrusive.
Dan tried not to glimpse through open doorways, conscious of his heightened senses.
He was aware of so many differing emotions assaulting him from all sides, some sharp enough to bring tears to his eyes.
There was acceptance, resignation, but underlying it was a strong current of trepidation.
None of us knows what lies beyond.
Finally they reached Chris Reed’s room, to be greeted by his wife, Carla. Dan took her hand without thinking, and was ill-prepared for the jolt the contact gave to his senses. He couldn’t speak, his throat tight, his stomach clenched.
Life, why do you have to be such a fucking bitch sometimes?
Carla regarded them, her expression neutral.
“I guess Linda called you, right?” She inclined her head toward the door.
“He knows you’re coming. I told him last night.
I don’t think he slept much, and he’s been agitated all morning.
” She hesitated. “I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know any of this.
He never said a word. And if I hadn’t listened when his buddy came over, I’d still be in the dark.
All I know is he has to tell someone before…
before it kills him.” She gave a sharp swallow.
“I’m playing dumb. All he told me was he had to speak to the police.
Didn’t say why. And when I called Linda, she didn’t hesitate.
She said you were the ones he needed to see. ”
Before either of them could get a word out, she pushed the door open and led them into the pale lemon room, dominated by a single bed with monitors on both sides, the air filled with the whisper of the BiPAP machine.
Chris Reed was ashen, his breathing harsh behind the mask that covered his nose and mouth. He tried to sit up in bed, but Carla stopped him. She grabbed the button that lay on his bed and pushed it, raising the pillow end into the air.
“Mr. Reed, I’m Detective Gary Mitchell, and this is Dan Porter. We’re here because—”
Chris waved his hand. “I know that part.” He glanced at Carla. “Honey… can you…?”
She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I need coffee anyway.” With a nod to Gary, she walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Chris sagged into the pillows. “I don’t… want her involved. She doesn’t need… to know.” He inhaled deeply. “She’s got enough… on her plate without… me adding to it.”
That part Dan understood all too well.
“You and James Sebring were good friends, I understand.” Gary’s notebook and pen had come out.
Chris nodded. “We’d known each other… for years.
He could be… a real pain in the ass… sometimes, especially when…
it came to OSHA stuff…. I think he slept…
with the regulation folder… under his pillow.
” He gave a half smile, but then his face fell.
“All you guys need… to know about his death was… it wasn’t an accident. ”
“How do you know that? Did you see something that day when you—”
Another wave of his hand. “My story. Need to… tell it my way… all right?”
Gary nodded.
Chris clutched his mask, sucking air into his lungs. At last he spoke. “About a month before… James died, I got my diagnosis. I told him the next day. Just him. I was still kinda numb.” A pause. “Anyhow…. Two weeks later… he came to work… and he was a mess.”
“You were still working?” Dan inquired.
“Yeah. Bills weren’t gonna… pay themselves, right?”
“Why was James a mess?” Gary asked in a low voice.
Pain flickered across Chris’s face. “Linda got diagnosed. They found a… shadow on her lung. A woman who never… smoked her whole life.”
Gary’s breathing hitched. “She didn’t mention that.”
“We didn’t know at the time… if it was terminal or not.” He sucked in more air. “I’ve… been around stuff, okay? You come into contact… with all sorts of shit… in my trade… I was a smoker too… but Linda?”
“It must have hit him very hard,” Dan murmured. “First you, then his wife.”
Chris gave a nod. “The four of us… were neighbors. And for two weeks after… man, he was on a… downward slide. He was always such… a positive guy, but… this rocked him. And then in June… he came to see me.” Another hard-won breath.
“I can still see him… sitting at my kitchen table… telling me….” He met Dan’s gaze.
“He said… he knew why I was sick… why Linda was sick… and whose fault it was.”
Friday, June 3, 2016
Chris stared at James. “The boss? What does he have to do with me having lung cancer? Or Linda, for that matter?”
James took a long drink from his cup of coffee. “You know about radon, right?”
“Radon?” Chris froze. “Wait, are you saying—”
“I had tests done, okay?” James blurted. “Independent air-quality tests. On both our houses.”
Chris blinked. “You mean the houses we helped build? Without a word to me?”
“I had them test for radon.” James’s face contorted. “I don’t have to tell you what the results were, do I?”
“But why test at all? What made you do it?”
“It was a hunch. And it paid off. So now….” James set his jaw. “I’m gonna put the bite on the boss.”
Chris’s stomach roiled. “You’re not making sense. I know you’re upset about Linda—hell, I would be too—and you’re looking for someone to blame, but….”
James leaned forward. “Do you remember when the legislation came in? Last year, right? Radon barriers to be fitted to all new builds.”
“But our houses were built before that came in.”
James nodded. “I did a little snooping around some of the latest building projects. You know, the stuff we’re working on right now. Wanna know what I discovered?”
“Just tell me, okay?” Chris’s guts were in turmoil.
“He hasn’t fitted radon barriers. In any of the new houses.
So this is what I’m gonna do. Those barriers can be retrofitted for all builds now.
I’m gonna insist he retrofits our houses and that he helps us financially—well, helps you.
Because now you’ve gotta think about Carla, dude.
You know… when you’re… not around anymore. ”
Thursday, July 12, 2018
“That sounds a lot like blackmail,” Dan observed. “‘Fit the barriers, pay up, or word gets out.’”
“He wasn’t doing it… for himself—he was doing it for me. He wanted to make… mine and Carla’s life comfortable.” He shivered. “He was that kinda guy. And it worked.”
“Did the boss do as he was asked?” Gary inquired.
“Yeah, he did. I got a check in the mail… about a week after James died.”
Gary lowered his pen. “So what you’re saying is your boss did everything James asked of him? That sounds like the actions of an honorable man. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have done it if James hadn’t gone to him. But I still don’t understand why—”
Chris started coughing, and the sound made Dan’s heart ache for him. “Can we get you anything? A nurse?”
Chris waved his hand agitatedly, and they waited until he’d stopped coughing. He took a moment to draw air into his lungs.
“Listen to me. There is no doubt… in my mind… he threw James off those rafters.”