Deceived (18 page)

Chapter forty-four

Six o’clock. Sam stared at the clock, not quite recognizing what it was. Six-oh-one. A faint sound of voices drifted by. Sam focused on the solid door through which they came. Mauve curtains hung on a track just inside the door.

Six-oh-two. Sam’s head hurt, his leg throbbed, and every part of his body ached as if he’d been run over by a car.

The voices grew louder, and one, attached to a tall man dressed in a white coat, came through the door. His well-trimmed red mustache reminded Sam of Rhett Butler.

“Welcome back!” Rhett said, looking over a chart. “We weren’t so sure you’d be joining us today. How are we feeling?”

“Like
we
shouldn’t be here. Where
is
here?” Sam looked at the clock again. Six-oh-four.

“Dosher Hospital. Dr. Henderson at your service,” the gentle doctor said, offering a short bow and a generous smile. “You lost a lot of blood. We’ve got a nice cocktail for you to relieve some of the pain so you can rest this morning.”

A nurse moved behind Dr. Henderson like his shadow. She pumped the contents of a syringe into a tube streaming from Sam’s arm, then changed an IV bag attached to a tube running into the same blue plastic tip sticking out from the back of his wrist.

Six-oh-six.

“Rest,” soothed Dr. Henderson. “You’ll be out of here soon.”

Just as efficiently as he’d come in, Dr. Henderson left the room.

The nurse finished her required fussing about, and a technician exchanged places with her to take Sam’s temperature and blood pressure. They were efficient in their leaving, too.

Six-oh-nine.

“No need to mince words when actions suffice,” thought Sam.

Taking in the wallpaper border dominated by shrimping boats, Sam clawed his way to a memory of what happened the night before. He pressed the nurse-call button on the bed railing, and an efficient but pleasant voice drifted through the speaker. Efficiency must be part of the job description.

“How can I help you?”

“Is Chuck Owens a patient here?”

“One minute. I’ll check.”

Silence.

“Yes. He’s in ICU.”

“I need to speak with him.”

“Not today, sir. He’s in critical condition.”

“How is he?”

“I’m not permitted to say, other than telling you his status is critical.”

“Thanks.”

Sam watched the sun’s filtered rays dance on the wall nearest the clock. Six-fifteen. His head felt heavy again, almost dizzy. Then Sam slipped into healing sleep once again.

Six-sixteen.

Chapter forty-five

Dr. Henderson was his cheery, efficient self during his late morning visit to Sam’s room.

“Hello, Mr. McClellan. How are we feeling now?”

“I suppose
we
are feeling better. Are you at liberty to talk about another patient if it’s a police matter and I’m the police?” Sam was hopeful.

“Generally, no. But if you were to ask me about a dear, dear friend who, let’s just say for sport, was brought in severely beaten, I’d probably be able to tell you his chances for survival are better today than they were last night without breaking any rules of patient confidentiality. But I don’t suppose you would ask me such a question, would you?” Dr. Henderson offered a smile as quick as his step around the bed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sam smiled gratefully. “And what’s my condition?”

“Generally, pretty good. We were able to stabilize you last night, and you’re on the mend. You’ll be fine in another few hours or so. Hypothermia, bullet wound, dehydration…all make for a winning combination, I’d say. Get comfortable; rest.” There was that soothing tone again.

“Did my Coast Guard friends bring anyone else in last night whom you feel I shouldn’t ask about?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Dr. Henderson said. “We’re a small staff, and I was the Emergency Room doc on call last night. There were no surprises, other than you and your friend in ICU.”

Sam felt he had to ask. “Is there a morgue here?”

Dr. Henderson looked up from his chart. “Mr. McClellan, this is Southport.
Of course
we have one. It’s not a tourist attraction we publicize, but we do have one. After all, people
do die
here.” His smile returned to his face.

“Were there any new tenants arriving last night?”

“I couldn’t say. But when you are feeling up to it, you can go visit Dr. Jerry Huff yourself. He’ll be able to tell you of new tenants.”

Just as with Dr. Henderson’s earlier visit, the shadow nurse entered the room, followed by a technician.

As Dr. Henderson reached for the door, he looked sternly back at Sam. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. McClellan. Had the Coast Guard not been right there, you’d not have lasted much longer.”

Then his smile was back, and he efficiently marched out of the room.

When the shadow nurse and technician left, Sam pushed the hydraulic-powered bed’s control buttons until he was comfortably sitting upright. Turning on the ceiling-mounted television on the opposite wall, Sam surfed until he found a local news program. A static image of a Coast Guard rescue boat overlaid with the Coast Guard’s emblem stared back at Sam as he increased the volume of the perky newscaster presenting the story as if it were a weather report.

“…the incident report said. Debris from the wreckage litters Yaupon Beach, and the Oak Island Beach Police have cordoned off all northern beach access roads. Visitors are advised to choose a different beach since they will be turned away until the investigation is complete. Now we turn to Harold with the Sports. Harold?”

. . .

Waiting for a doctor’s okay to get released from the hospital is never easy. For Sam, it was excruciating that afternoon. With every creak down the hall or opening of a door, Sam cast a hopeful look at his own room’s door.

Every hour, he checked the local news stations. Scattered reports added up to a big fat “We don’t know what happened,” leaving Sam more worried than ever about Jenny and Molly. When they say “full details in an hour,” Sam hoped they’d have more. But hour after hour, it was the same thing, like waiting for a hurricane to make landfall. No one quite knows where it’s going to land, so news anchors scare everybody along the coast with guesses.

Sam watched for another two hours. Then he reached for the phone.

Hoops picked up on the first ring. “Sam-Man! How are you? Where are you?”

Sam was glad to hear a friendly voice on the other end. “Dosher. The doctor says I have to stay a little longer, but I’m ready to go now. What’s the word? I need to know everything. Did everyone get off the boat?”

“I don’t have that report, but I can get it. What’s your room number? I’ll call you back.”

Sam struggled to read the numbers on the phone’s handset. His head throbbed whenever he turned it, and trying to read made him dizzy. “I’m in room one-twenty-four. You’ll have to give me the short version when you find out. Thanks, Hoops. I owe—”

“Naw, Sam-Man. You don’t owe me anything. Just get well, hear?”

“Will do, Hoops; will do.”

Sam tried to get up to walk around, but catheters were stuck in places he couldn’t reach, and tubes jutted out from more than one place on his body. Defeated, Sam fell back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. By the time Shadow Nurse and a technician entered the room to proffer up more bags of medicine and fluids, Sam was asleep.

Chapter forty-six

Sam woke later that afternoon to sunlight flitting through the window’s shades. Within minutes, Dr. Henderson marched in with his entourage.

“Good afternoon, Mr. McClellan. Let’s take another look at that leg and get you on it again.”

A second technician, a male this time, entered the room with a pair of crutches for Sam to try. He adjusted them to fit Sam when he saw how tall Sam was.

“I want you to start slowly, get the feel of these things first,” Dr. Henderson explained. “No races, if you please. Your leg is going to take several weeks to heal, but you’ll need to start therapy so you don’t forget how to use it. Now, let’s get you out of bed. Exercise is important for you.”

Dr. Henderson’s entourage got to work removing tubes and the catheter. After twenty minutes of fussing with bandages, they left the room with various admonitions about going slowly and resting often. The nurse said if he were a good patient, Sam would be released that evening.

And that was all the encouragement Sam needed. Cautiously, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and propped himself up using the crutches. He struggled to arrange the scant hospital gown, then took his first tentative step.

At first, Sam did exactly as he was told, hobbling slowly around the room. Soon, he had the hang of using crutches, so he headed for the intensive care unit. He felt up for company. Sam hoped Chuck did too.

Dosher Hospital is a narrow two-story affair. Like its larger cousins, it shares an antiseptic smell, but it is easily navigated because of large signs and limited departments vying for a patient’s attention.

Sam found the intensive care unit. He tried his best to look casual as he hobbled the corridor of glassed rooms until he found Chuck, being attended to by a technician or a nurse; Sam couldn’t tell which. He waited for the technician to leave, then slipped in beside Chuck’s hospital bed. He eased himself into a small chair. Chuck had more wires attached to him than an old computer.

“Chuck, it’s me. Sam McClellan. Just checking on you, man.”

Cracking open a swollen, bruised eye, Chuck’s battered mouth twisted into what Sam guessed was a pained smile.

“Sam. You look like you should be in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I know.” At least Chuck still had a sense of humor. “Chuck, I need you to tell me what happened after you and Mike left the gallery.”

The slight smile left Chuck’s face. “Oh, that. Sam, I’m really tired now. Can this wait?”

“No, it can’t. I need to know exactly what went down. I’m guessing since you were beaten to a bloody pulp and left for dead, you weren’t part of the original plan.”

Chuck closed the one eye he could open. “I didn’t know anything about Lisa’s…involvements until you had your little visit with the chief. It was far more than I wanted to know.” Chuck sighed heavily. “I was raging. Mike caught sight of me and grabbed me by the arm. I blurted that I was going to the gallery to put a stop to Lisa’s messing around. I really thought that’s what it was all about.

“When we got there, you and your girlfriends were already having a field day. I didn’t want to believe any of what I overheard Chief tell you, but when I saw Lisa’s suitcase full of dough, I knew he was telling the truth.”

“Did you know Tripp was her half-brother?”

“Yeah, I knew. But I was clueless about his operation until I saw him on the gallery floor beaten by…what’s your girlfriend’s name? We weren’t formally introduced on our little side trip to Southport.”

“Molly. And she’s really just a friend. Tripp killed her brother, and she wanted revenge. What happened when you left the gallery?”

Well, I put Lisa in cuffs, took her into the office, and was going to take her out the back door, like Mike suggested. Mike cuffed Tripp. Or at least I thought he had. They came into the office too. When I heard a commotion in the front gallery, I moved around the desk to see. Then Mike hit me on the head with the butt of his gun. The next thing I know, I’m down below on a fast-moving boat,
my
hands cuffed in front of me.”

“Who was with you?”

“Molly and Jenny were down below with me. I had no idea who was topside at that point, except Andy and Lisa were making out right there where I could see.”

“What happened then?”

“Molly pretended to fall on me when we stopped for fuel. She transferred a gun to me. I don’t know where she got it. She took her time getting up, like she was giving me time to get ready. I propped myself up against the pedestal of a table behind her.

“Then Andy came down the companionway steps. Molly leaned way over to the right and I got off one shot, but missed. Andy tackled me. I think he would have killed me, but Lisa stopped him, believe it or not. I don’t remember anything beyond that.”

Sam replayed the scene in the gallery. Molly had grabbed Tripp’s gun and tucked it in her jeans. Good for her! Why Tripp didn’t remember he’d lost it was irrelevant.

“Huhum.”

Sam looked around at a stern-faced nurse clearing her throat.

“Visiting hours are over,” she said without stripping her stare from Sam.

“I was just leaving.” Sam nodded to Chuck and put his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Chuck. Get better.”

“Thanks, Sam. You didn’t tell me what happened to you.”

Sam didn’t have the heart to tell Chuck about Lisa’s marksmanship. “I’ll tell you on our next visit. You take care.”

As Sam exited, he saw two carbon copies of Chuck coming down the hall. His twin sons. Of course. They were home from college. Sam was glad they’d be able to help Chuck heal.

As Sam hobbled down the hall, he thought through everything he’d done since Lee’s murder. He played the “what-if” game again, knowing that his scenarios were irrelevant at this point.

Chapter forty-seven

Before Sam could reach his room, he saw Chief Dan Singleton coming around the corner.

“There you are,” Chief called. “I’ve been waiting for you, and I was about to give up. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“The morgue. I called, and they said we could come take a look to see if we know anybody there.” Chief slowed his walk so Sam could keep up on his crutches.

“That was a stupid thing to do, you know.” Chief pointed at his leg. “The report said you were shot by gunfire that came from a sinking boat. You want to tell me what happened?”

Sam recounted the story. He watched Chief’s face redden at the mention of Lisa firing on him, then turning a gun on herself.

“She got what she deserved, I suppose. Let’s go visit her.” Chief quickened his pace as they approached an unmarked elevator leading to the basement morgue.

Like the rest of the hospital above it, the morgue was long and narrow. A rabbit-warren of ante-rooms and offices led to a cavernous dismal gray room surrounded by shiny metal cabinets. The smell of formaldehyde was so strong that Sam had to catch his breath before entering.

A battered desk sat in one corner and behind it was Dr. Jerry Huff, himself as gray as the room he occupied, pouring over a stack of papers. His bifocals slid the length of his pointy nose as he looked up to greet his visitors.

“Dr. Huff?” Chief bellowed as he entered the room, his voice’s small echo returning to Sam’s ears as he followed a few hobbles behind.

“Yes? Oh, you must be the fellow who called. The technician said the police might be stopping by.”

“Yes. I’m Chief Dan Singleton of the Carolina Beach Police, and this is Detective Sam McClellan.”

“I see you are a guest of our fine establishment.” Dr. Huff pointed to Sam’s hospital gown.

“I am. And the food is definitely four-star quality.”

Dr. Huff rolled his dark eyes and rubbed his hand back through thinning hair. “Sure. Now, how can I be of assistance?”

“We would like to know about anybody who came to visit here last night.” Chief wasn’t wasting any time.

“Okey-dokey. Let’s see if you recognize our current contestants.”

Dr. Huff shuffled through some of the papers until he found a hardbound log book. Behind him was an ancient computer, obviously off.

“Ah, yes. We had three from last night. Two men, one woman. Sad. Very sad. But hey, it keeps me employed.” A flicker of a smile blossomed.

“Two men, one woman,” Chief repeated. “Do you know their names? What were the circumstances?”

“Names, no. Circumstances, yes. Perhaps you can identify some or all of them?” Dr. Huff walked toward the cabinets, his gait stilted by a limp. His small frame made reaching the top drawers a challenge, which he overcame by using a stepstool.

The first drawer he slid open was full of sheet. “Domestic. Wife shot him.” Dr. Huff was curt.

When Dr. Huff pulled the sheet partially away, Chief shook his head. The partly removed sheet revealed a very large black male.

Dr. Huff recovered the body and slid the drawer back in place. He walked around a corner where two tables lay side by side.

“I’m still working on these.” He pulled back the cover from a petite male, this one of Asian descent. “Bar fight. He lost.”

Chief shook his head again and moved to the other table. Audibly sucking in his breath, he pulled back the cover.

Sam noted the relief that came over Chief’s face. “Who is it?”

“Not anybody I recognize.” Chief stepped away so Sam could see a Caucasian woman, small in features, but clearly not any of the three women they were looking for today.

“Domestic. She lost.” Dr. Huff casually pointed out matching marks on her neck. “Happens all the time. This one was from Bald Head Island, if you want to know. The husband
said
he found her that way, but the police think otherwise. Don’t see anything you like today?”

“Afraid not,” said Chief. “But I want you to call me if you get any more.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” Dr. Huff sounded a bit like a retail sales clerk.

“A woman and a man, for starters. Boating accident. Possibly two other women.” Chief glanced at Sam as he listed the other two women’s descriptions.

“Ooh,” cheered Dr. Huff. “It sounds positively tantalizing.”

Dr. Huff was a little too gleeful for Sam. He turned his crutches around and headed for the door.

Chief gave a thank you and followed Sam. He cleared his throat and talked quietly as they walked toward the elevator that would take them back to the land of the living.

“I’m going to be resigning, Sam. There will be a full-scale investigation. I know I’m going to be kicked for not acting when I suspected something, so I’m letting someone else step up to the plate. Before that happens, though, I want to see you back on the force.”

Sam hobbled a little slower as he got onto the waiting elevator. “Chief, I’ll stand by you, no matter what comes. You were stupid to get involved with Lisa in the first place, but fortunately for you, stupidity is not a crime.”

Chief smiled. “Stupid. Yeah, you could call it that.”

“I need to know what happened to Molly and Jenny, first and foremost. Next, I want to see Mike and Andy pay for what they did to Lee.”

“I’m working on it now.”

“After that, you can call it whatever you want, but an extended vacation would be nice.”

“Ditto that.”

“Where will you go when you resign, Chief? You think you and your wife can patch it up?”

“Don’t know. Trish is pretty mad right now. I told her what happened. Felt like I had to since it’s about to be under public scrutiny. She left yesterday for the mountains. When it’s all over, maybe we can work things out.”

“Well, good luck.” Sam was sincere.

They exited the elevator and Chief escorted Sam back to his room. Sam pondered whether there were any other places in town where bodies would be taken, but Chief assured him the local morgue would be their best bet for locating those they sought, given how they died.

Sam heard the phone ring as he said goodbye to the Chief just outside his hospital room. It was Hoops.

“Sam-Man, how you feeling?”

“Better, once I hear what you’ve got.”

“Fine. Dispense with the niceties. The report is that the rescue boat picked up survivors from a sinking vessel; cause of the explosion still under investigation. There was a collision, but you know that already, don’t you?” Hoops didn’t wait for a reply. “There were no bodies recovered from the wreckage.”

“No bodies? But that’s impossible! I saw Lisa Owens put a gun to her head and do a swan dive.”

“Did you happen to notice her scuba tank?”

Sam whipped his head around at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Molly!” Sam leaped off the bed toward her, nearly falling as he hugged Molly.

Jenny was walking into his room two steps behind Molly, a grin plastered to her bruised face upon seeing Sam lip-lock Molly.

Molly looked dazed when he pulled away and grabbed the phone.

“Hoops, I’ll call you back. I have visitors.” Sam threw the phone down and bear-hugged Jenny. He held her hand and scooped Molly’s in his other hand, leading them to two chairs sitting opposite the hospital bed. “Tell me what happened!”

Jenny started first. “We felt you needed a little help, so we tried to flush Lisa out at the gallery. Molly went in posing as a customer in need of a last-minute gift, and I went in with my paintings a few minutes later. We had her cornered by the time you arrived.”

Molly picked up the story. “We figured we were okay when Chuck and Mike showed up, but Mike was in on it. He and Andy beat Chuck up pretty bad, then hauled us off to a speedboat that was waiting at the pier behind the gallery. They didn’t know I still had Tripp’s gun, and when I got a chance, I gave it to Chuck. He tried to get a shot off, but missed. Andy flew into a rage. I think he would have killed him, but Lisa stopped him.”

“You went to Southport?”

“Yeah, after fueling up. Then Mike and Andy hauled Jenny and me off the boat and put us on a larger one, a Beneteau, I think.”

“They beat Chuck to death, Sam,” Jenny sobbed. “Right there in front of us.”

Sam smiled and held her hand. “Chuck’s here at the hospital. They did a job on him, but he’s a tough guy. He’ll be all right.” Sam paused as he gently touched her bruised cheek. “What did they do to you?”

“Chuck’s alive! Thank goodness they didn’t kill him.” Jenny’s sobs slowed. Then she continued. “I hit my face on Tripp’s scuba gear. I could hear the Coast Guard telling us to stop, and Tripp started pulling small tanks and stuff out from under one of the settees. Tripp and Lisa pulled on full-body wetsuits, and Tripp put all the money from the two suitcases into dry bags. He was telling Lisa to tether one to her leg as soon as they got topside. They were getting ready to jump overboard when the boat was broadsided. When I fell over, I landed face-first on his tank. He had to push me off to get out of there.”

Molly chimed in. “I was pulling Jenny up the companionway steps when I saw Lisa fire a gun at the water. She held a gun up to her head. I waited for the shot, but it didn’t come. Then she dove into the water, with the tank, tether, and treasure. Tripp was slithering off the other side of the boat like the snake he is.”

“When we got to the aft railing, the Coast Guard was taking Mike and Andy back to the rescue boat,” Jenny explained. “We were scared they didn’t know we were there, but they came back for us. We both thought you were dead back at the gallery. It was only when we got to the rescue boat that we saw you there, passed out. They took us to an urgent care center on Oak Island, waited around for us to be seen, then took us back to my condo. All the way back to Carolina Beach—on the Coast Guard rescue boat! They told us you were here at Dosher.”

“We had to walk to the gallery to get Jenny’s car,” Molly interjected. “Otherwise, we would have been here much sooner. That, and we didn’t wake up until about noon today.” Molly’s smile was back. “May a thousand—”

Sam wouldn’t let her finish. He pulled her to his side and kissed her hard.

Jenny giggled, then reached for a cup of water on the bedside table for Sam. “The nurse at the station down the hall said you were getting out of here this evening. We thought you might like a ride home.”

Sam looked at Molly, then glanced at Jenny. “Molly doesn’t have a home anymore.” Then turning to Molly: “I’m sorry you got hurt in all of this.”

Molly’s back straightened. “I won’t be homeless for long. Besides, I think I have a place to stay for a while.” She smiled.

Sam’s mind raced with what-ifs again.

Molly seemed to hear his gears shifting. “With Jenny. I’m staying with Jenny. And it looks like you will be too until we can get you back on board
Angel
.”

Sam smiled. “I have a dinghy, now. Seems Mike was in a generous mood, so I borrowed his. I’m sorry about your boat, Molly.”

“No sweat, dude. I’m going to raise her.” Molly brightened. Then she leaned over and kissed Sam’s cheek. “Thanks for the affection. I was beginning to think Tripp was the only one who’d pay attention to my good looks and natural abilities.”

Sam’s ribs hurt when he stopped laughing. Then he helped Jenny and Molly gather his things to go.