Chapter 29
Jack
“SHE’S NOT ANSWERING! Why is she not answering!” Nora cries, tossing her phone across her desk with a groan of frustration. “Where is she? Did Connie take her? Or Sven? Both of them? What the heck is even happening?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing,” I say, attempting to calm some of her anxiety. I slide my own phone back into my pocket, unnerved by the text from Anderson I just read: Officer Moore said no one was home at the Wharfman’s, but get this—lady next door said a black SUV squealed out of the driveway not too long ago, so fast she said she was half tempted to call the police on it. “Maybe Stella just went home and is just missing your calls.”
“Or maybe crazy Connie took her hostage!” she exclaims, starting to pace. I don’t tell her that this seems unlikely. Given the fact that someone—my money is on Sven—shot Cleo, I’d say these people have moved past hostage negotiations.
“Let’s just take a second and think through what we know,” I suggest. “See if that gives us any idea of what Sven and Connie are going to do next.”
Nora stops pacing. “So you definitely think it was them that shot Cleo?”
“Given what we know, yes. Both of them found out their spouses were cheating on them and now both of those spouses are dead.”
“Yes, but Ian died of cardiac arrest,” she points out.
“Yeah, well…” I drum my fingers along her desk. “This may sound far-fetched, but what if that was the plan all along?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if they planned to kill Ian slowly using the Minoxidil?”
Nora gasps. “You think?” She starts pacing again. “But it’s not as if they could guarantee that he would die.”
“Maybe it was worth a try. Cleo said earlier that Sven used to be a doctor. That means he could’ve known about the effects Minoxidil can have on the heart. Plus, why get a job as security guard in the Wharfman’s neighborhood if not to keep an eye on Ian?”
Nora nods. “True. But what about the photos? I get that they left them on your windshield as a way to intimidate you, but why would they leave those photos on Cleo’s car?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It doesn’t seem like they’d want her to know they knew she was having an affair. Unless they were blackmailing her, but Connie has plenty of money. What about Ian? Do you think he got any envelopes?”
“Wait a minute…” she trails off, realization lighting her features. “Hmm, could it be?” she says thoughtfully, then without explanation she hurries out of her office and down the hall.
“Nora!” I call after her, dashing after her. I catch up to her outside an office door at the end of the hall. The brass nameplate identifies it as Ian’s office. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“This is Ian’s office,” she supplies unnecessarily.
“So I figured,” I reply, pointing to the sign identifying it as such. “But what are we doing outside of it?”
“The last time I was in here with Ian there was a manila envelope on his desk. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, it’s not that uncommon to see things like that in an office.” She jiggles the handle and the door pops right open.
“I can’t just search Ian’s office. I don’t have a warrant,” I tell her.
“Then stand guard,” she says dismissively, stepping inside.
“Wait!” I cry, worried there might be someone lurking inside, but I’m too late, she’s already in the office and flicking the lights on.
“All clear,” she calls calmly behind her. I may just end up next to Ian in that coroner’s room, because this woman is going to give me a heart attack.
I swivel around and scan the empty space we left behind. As an officer of the law, I may not be allowed to search Ian’s office without a warrant, but I will happily stand guard. Keeping Nora safe is without question my number one goal in this investigation.
Actually it’s my number one goal on a daily basis.
My senses are all heightened; I can’t seem to shake a gut feeling that something’s off about us being here. Anxiously I take my phone out to see if there’s anything new from Anderson. Nothing. I already texted him that we came to the office to check on Stella, but I send him a quick update that we’re still here and there’s no sign of Stella.
“Find anything yet?” I call to her, hearing the rifling of papers and opening and closing of drawers.
“No—” she starts, then cuts off abruptly. “I found the envelope!” she cries and I hear rustling as she slides whatever’s inside out of it. “Oh my,” she breathes. I’m about to turn around, but then I hear her footsteps approaching me. “Take a look at this,” she says from behind me, passing me a piece of paper over my shoulder.
Just like the pictures in my envelope, this one has a post-it on top too. It reads: I know it was you…we're over...watch your back…
Unlike the pictures in the envelopes Cleo and I received, beneath the post-it is a document. A simple printout of an email, dated a few months back. As I read it my distaste for Ian Wharfman only grows.
It’s from a woman named Goldie Lito, who apparently used to be a nurse that worked with Sven. The email starts off with an apology for having been a part, albeit unknowingly, of the fraud committed at her place of employment, then goes on to thank Ian for bringing the fact that Sven Karlsson had been practicing without an American medical license to light. The email ends with her giving Ian her phone number should he want to discuss things further over dinner.
In conclusion, it appears that Ian was responsible for getting Sven’s license revoked. Or rather for outing him for never having the proper licensure in the first place.
Wow. First he ruins the guy’s career, then he sleeps with his wife.
What a cretin. Sure, it’s illegal for doctors to practice medicine without the proper licensure, but I’m guessing Ian’s motives for outing Sven were anything but pure.
The “we’re over” part of the post-it is what’s confusing to me. Did Connie leave this threat for her husband? Surely it can’t have been Cleo. She was receiving threats, not passing them out. Maybe Ian was sleeping with someone else too. But who else would end their relationship with him over him getting Sven fired?
Unless Connie and Sven were trying to frame Cleo…Yes, that has to be it!
“Oh my goodness, Jack!” Nora’s sudden cry pulls me from my perusings with a jolt of sharp panic.
“What is it?” I whirl around to find her striding toward me, an orange pill bottle in her hand.
“Look at this,” she exclaims, pushing it toward me. I read the label and my mouth drops.
“It’s a prescription for Minoxidil,” I say. “So, does that mean no one was giving him samples after all? He had a prescription all along?”
“It appears that way. But look at the prescribing doctor.” Her finger slides over to the black writing. Sven Karlsson.
“But how? His license got revoked.”
“It must’ve been before that happened,” she says, staring thoughtfully at the bottle. “This says it’s refill five of five. That means the original prescription was probably from six months ago.” She shakes the bottle. “Also, this bottle is empty.”
“What do you think that means?” I ask, deferring to her pharmaceutical expertise.
“Well, did he get more from another doctor or are we back to the theory that he started stealing samples?” she says. My head is spinning with all of these questions, all of the unknowns. “I think the important thing to note,” she goes on, “is that Sven knew Ian was on Minoxidil because he’s the one who initially prescribed it, and if he didn’t tell him to take a diuretic along with it, then that’s physician negligence which is absolutely a crime.”
“Which means,” I say with a burst of clarity, “that he would want to blame the Minoxidil on someone else.”
“Which would explain the incriminating picture he took of Cleo giving a sample to Ian,” she adds, stepping toward me, eyes alight with comprehension. “If he could prove that she was giving him samples under the table, he could pin Ian’s death on her.”
“Of course an even better solution would be to blame the murder on you.” I step toward her too, finally feeling as if I’m getting a handle on what’s been going on.
“Yes,” she breathes, raising a hand to her face. “That’s why Sven moved the body! He must’ve thought he completely lucked out when I stabbed Ian with my knitting needle. But how did he know?”
“Funny how much you can learn when you bug someone’s car.” The sound of a woman speaking from behind me makes my blood run cold. My hand automatically goes to my gun, but she cuts off the motion with a warning.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Detective. Grab that gun and I’ll be forced to shoot you.” I hear her gun cock, and my heart sinks. My only comfort is that I’m standing in the doorway, blocking Nora from any bullets fired. “Hands up where I can see them.” I have no choice. Even if I could grab my gun quickly enough, I’d still have to turn around before I could shoot. So I drop my hand from my gun and lift my hands up over my head.
“That’s right. Good boy,” she purrs. “Now turn around so I can make sure you’re not going to try any funny business.”
“Stay behind me,” I mouth firmly to a horror-stricken Nora before doing as she says. I already know who I’ll be looking at when I turn around, but even so shock reverberates through me at the sight of Stella standing there with a gun aimed directly at my chest.