Plain Truth (Military Investigations) (10 page)

BOOK: Plain Truth (Military Investigations)
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“But Fisher didn’t seem like part of the Amish community?”

“That was the way I saw it. He was standoffish and could be surly at times, which, as you probably know, doesn’t fit the Amish mold.”

“Did you ever suspect him of illegal activity?”

The chief hesitated a moment and then pulled in a deep breath. “Funny you should mention it. We had some petty thefts in the local area. Not big-ticket items, but small things that could be easily pawned in one of the neighboring towns. A few GPS systems were lifted from unlocked cars. A woman’s purse was taken when she was in the gym. We later found her wallet and handbag in a city trash can. The credit cards hadn’t been used, but two hundred dollars in cash was gone.”

“Did you suspect Fisher?”

“He was seen in town that day. I didn’t have any witnesses or evidence, but it made me wonder. I talked to him about where he’d been and listened as he provided a lame excuse about walking to town on a back road. Seemed suspicious to me, but I never found anything that tied him to the robberies.”

“Did he mention his father or sister or an English woman named Mary Kate Powers, all of whom are from Freemont, Georgia?”

“Not that I recall, but he does have a sister in this area. Elizabeth Glick. She and her husband are good people. If only Daniel had taken after them.”

Zach disconnected with a nervous feeling in his gut. Fisher didn’t fit the Amish mold, yet would he have broken into the clinic and attacked two women in cold blood? Something didn’t add up.

Resting his head back in the chair, Zach closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. Sometimes when he was stuck on a case, if he gave his mind free rein the answer would come like a flash. Today, all he got was confusion.

His cell rang. He checked the monitor before he connected and greeted Sergeant Otis. “Hey, Ray. Thanks for getting back to me.”

“I’ve got contact info for the Memphis agency that handled the death investigation for Quinton Jacobsen.” The sergeant provided a name and the police department’s phone number.

“Good work, Ray. I owe you.”

“Negative, sir. Just doing my job.”

Zach smiled as he clicked off. Ray was a good man and an asset to the CID.

After tapping in the phone number he had provided, Zach pulled out his notebook and made a notation of Officer George Davis’s name and number.

A receptionist answered and redirected him to Davis’s private line. Zach groaned when the call went to voice mail. He left an overview of the information he needed, along with the call-back details.

“I’d appreciate any help you could provide,” Zach added before he clicked off.

He spent the next thirty minutes checking emails on his phone. Hearing a car turn into the clinic driveway, he peered through the window and then hurried outside to meet Tyler.

“Thanks, buddy.” Zach took the clothing and burner phone. “You’re fast and reliable.”

“Turns out we had an extra phone in the office that we didn’t use on a previous case. That meant I didn’t have to stop at the PX.” Tyler handed him a key. “This is to the front door of my place. I need to run a few errands in town. See you whenever.”

Zach slipped the key into his pocket and placed the gym bag and extra clothing in his own car as Tyler headed back to Freemont.

Seeing Levi on his front porch, Zach hurried to talk to the Amish man about keeping the phone as security for Ella. Thankfully, he agreed, and after giving Levi a short course in cell phone usage, Zach returned to the clinic.

He downed the last of the water and settled onto the couch with a sigh, realizing how tired he felt. He’d gone too many hours without any shut-eye.

After stretching out his legs and leaning his head back, Zach closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep.

Visions swirled through his slumber. He saw Ella lying on the floor of her clinic, bleeding from a gunshot wound. Another doctor leaned over her, doing CPR. Zach rushed to her side, but hands held him back. He fought off their grasp and screamed for someone to save her. But when the doctor stepped away, Zach could see her face. It wasn’t Ella, but his mother.

He jerked awake and sat up, unaware of where he was for half a second until he got his bearings.

His cell phone rang. Reaching for it, he connected to the call and listened as the Memphis cop identified himself.

“I pulled the file on the case to be sure my information was correct,” the officer went on. “Mr. Jacobsen attended the seminar held at Saint Jude’s Medical Center. He stayed at the Peabody Hotel downtown. When we traced his steps the night he disappeared, he had gone out to dinner with colleagues and had returned to the hotel, claiming he was tired.”

Zach pulled out his notebook and pen and jotted down some of the facts.

“At approximately 8:00 p.m.,” the cop continued, “Dr. Jacobsen changed his return ticket for a flight later that night and checked out of his hotel. Security cameras spotted his car heading on I-55 over the Memphis-Arkansas Memorial Bridge forty minutes later. He parked the rental on the far side of the river. Sometime that night, he must have hurled himself into the water.”

“Who alerted you to his disappearance?”

“Dr. Ian Webb. He was Jacobsen’s assistant. Webb tried to contact Jacobsen the next morning to verify the time they would drive to the airport together. When Jacobsen didn’t answer, Webb became worried. He talked to the front desk and was even more concerned when he learned the researcher had checked out of the hotel the night prior. Webb called Jacobsen’s wife. She hadn’t heard from her husband. We found the abandoned rental car later that day. Search teams scoured the banks of the Mississippi, hoping to uncover some sign of the missing man. The following day, a couple of fishermen found him tangled in some debris along the shore. We notified the wife, but she was already en route to Memphis.”

“Dr. Ella Jacobsen flew to Memphis?”

“No, sir. She drove.”

Zach let out a stiff breath. “That’s got to be a two-day trip. Probably more than nine hundred miles.”

“She insisted her husband would never take his own life, but we hear that a lot. I’m sure you do, as well. Mrs. Jacobsen was adamant that he hadn’t taken his life and became openly hostile at our attempts to help.”

“Did she provide an explanation for her antagonism?”

“She kept saying her husband was working on a cure for a new disease and focused on helping children who suffered from the disability. She couldn’t believe that he would have jumped from the bridge. He was afraid of water and didn’t know how to swim. As I recall, she couldn’t, either. She said he never would have chosen that type of death. Bottom line, she refused to accept our findings and became somewhat belligerent, so much so that we had to warn her to control her outbursts.”

“How’d that go over?”

“Not well. She stormed out of my office and said she refused to accept suicide as the cause of death.”

“Have you heard from her since?”

“Not after the body was released. She had him buried in Pennsylvania, then sold her house in Carlisle and moved South. We told her to keep in contact, but she failed to do so. Glad someone else is looking into the death. For some reason, I haven’t been able to get the case off my mind.” The cop sighed. “It might sound strange, but I keep wondering if she knew more than she was willing to reveal.”

Before Zach could comment, the door from the hallway opened and Ella stepped into the waiting room, wearing a broad smile and a fresh outfit. Her hair was damp, indicating she had probably showered.

Zach hadn’t figured her for being a suspect. Had he been too focused on her pretty face to think of her as anything but an innocent bystander?

“She’s in the middle of it, I feel sure,” the officer stated before he disconnected.

As much as Zach wanted to ignore the last phone call, he had to use caution. The Memphis police considered Ella a person of interest. What was wrong with him? He’d never been suspicious of her. Was he losing the investigative skills he needed to find the assailant before he struck again?

Levi Miller, Hugh Powers, Daniel Fisher and even Bob Landers could be involved in some way. What about Ella? Could she be involved, as well?

ELEVEN

T
rouble. The look in Zach’s eyes told Ella something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Did you get bad news?” she asked, almost afraid to learn what was causing his sour expression.

Earlier he had been concerned about her well-being and had insisted she rest. Now, his face was filled with questions and suspicion.

“Just tracking down some information.”

“About Daniel Fisher?” she asked.

“The Freemont police are questioning him.”

She glanced out the window to the Miller house. “I hope that doesn’t cause Sarah more upset.”

When Zach didn’t answer, Ella took a step closer. “I’m fixing something to eat. You must be hungry.”

“Anything would be appreciated.” He got up and started to walk away.

She grabbed his arm. “Look, I don’t know who you were talking to on the phone, but something’s going on, and I have a feeling it involves me. Why don’t you just come out with whatever is bothering you?”

He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right. It involves you and your husband. I contacted the Memphis police who handled the investigation of his death. They said you drove there, and you were adamant that your husband couldn’t have taken his life.”

“And that bothers you because I stood up for my husband?”

“What do you know that you weren’t willing to tell them?” Zach demanded.

“I know how my husband reacted to stress. He became more committed to finding answers. That was the type of person he was. I’ve never seen him morose or despondent.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t acting like himself.”

“He was upset about the data that was collected on the children he had treated. There was something about three sets of twins. I told you that. They didn’t respond like the other children. That’s why I called the research center in Harrisburg when I first suspected that Shelly and Stacey had CED. I wanted to make sure the protocol hadn’t changed and that the treatment was the same as Quin had determined more than a year ago.”

“If your husband was upset about the findings, he may have blamed himself. Did the twins get worse? Did any children succumb to the disease?”

She shook her head. “No, it was nothing like that. No one died. All the children were treated and survived.”

“Then what was the problem?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure he even knew. But something was amiss.”

“And that something—whatever it was—could have been too much for him to handle. Sounds as if your husband was temperamental.”

“Aren’t all geniuses that way?”

“So he was a genius?”

“He was an intelligent man who had a love of science and research. He understood genetics and how recessive genes manifest in small, limited populations. It was his life’s work.”

“That led to his death.”

“He didn’t take his own life,” Ella insisted.

“You think someone killed him.”

She gasped. “I never said that.”

“What else could it be? If he didn’t jump of his own volition, then someone pushed him. That’s a crime, Ella. It’s called murder.”

“He could have slipped and fallen,” she suggested.

“Did you see the bridge? Is that likely?”

She shook her head, realizing Zach was right. Quin didn’t lose his footing and slip off the bridge. Nor had he jumped. He was afraid of water and had never learned to swim. There were other ways that would have been less traumatic to end his life, but again, that wasn’t Quin.

She looked at Zach and saw the questions in his eyes. What was he keeping from her?

“Did you drive to Memphis or were you already there?” he asked, his voice stern.

“What?”

“It’s evident by your facial expression when you talk about your husband that something was amiss in your marriage. You wanted to fix everything, but you couldn’t. Would it be better to have your husband die rather than face what was to come? Had he asked for a divorce? Was there insurance? You could have built an even larger clinic if he had a big policy, but that money wouldn’t be paid if it was suicide. You didn’t think about that, did you, Ella?”

Tears filled her eyes, and she fought to keep them in check. “I can’t believe you would suspect me.” She pointed to the door. “I’d appreciate you leaving now.”

His face changed again. “I’m not leaving. You need protection. I had to find out if there could be any hint of truth to what the Memphis officer shared.”

“You were testing me?” Her anger increased. Today of all days, she didn’t need more hassle. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I had to be sure which side you were on, Ella.”

“Right now, I’m frustrated and angry. Stay in the waiting room, if you want, but I’m going back to my residence.”

“I had to make sure, Ella, that you were innocent of any wrongdoing.”

“And when will you need to make sure again, Zach? I can’t handle someone who doesn’t believe in me and changes in a heartbeat. I thought I could trust you. Now I realize I can’t.”

She turned and hurried from the room overcome with emotion, from upset and heartache to a feeling of being abandoned and wrongly accused. Shame on Zach for playing tricks on her. Shame on her for believing he was something other than an investigator focused on the case. She had learned her lesson, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

* * *

Zach wished he could take back the callous comments he’d made. Too many investigations and too many cross-examinations had made him aggressive. He walked down the hallway and knocked on the closed kitchen door. Would Ella hear him, and if she did hear his knock, would she want to talk to him? He doubted he would be welcome, but he needed to tell her what had happened.

Again, he rapped on the door.

Footsteps sounded, and it cracked open. She stood on the threshold with one hand on the door and the other on her hip. Her gaze was guarded.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was acting like an overzealous investigator. You don’t understand, I’m sure, but law enforcers need to be careful and get to the bottom of every situation.”

“You believed the Memphis police officer instead of believing me.”

“I was wrong, Ella. I’m sorry if my questions upset you.”

“It wasn’t your questions as much as the hostility I heard in your voice. You suspected me. You probably still do.”

He couldn’t say anything to change her mind, he felt sure. Maybe with time she’d start to trust him again.

“I need to bring you up-to-date.” He took a step closer. “Then I’ll leave.”

Did he detect surprise in her expression? Had she thought he’d stand guard through the night, when she had been so insistent about wanting him to leave?

“Special Agent Tyler Zimmerman stopped by the clinic with a cell phone. I gave it to Levi Miller. Here’s the number.” Zach handed her a small card. “Program it into your phone. Levi will be next door and will respond immediately if you feel threatened or hear anything or anyone outside.”

“Are you sure Levi doesn’t mind?”

“He’s more than happy to help out.”

“Then you think he’s trustworthy?” Her question held more than a touch of irony.

“Tyler lives along Amish Road. You’ve probably seen the antebellum home.”

“He lives there?”

Zach smiled. “He’s engaged to the woman who inherited the big house from her father. Tyler lives in the brick ranch south of it.”

“I know the Amish neighbors on the other side of the old home. Isaac and Ruth Lapp have brought their young son, Joseph, to the clinic,” Ella murmured.

“Tyler invited me to stay at his place for the next couple of days. I won’t be far. Call me if you have a problem.”

“But you live on post.”

“I do, in the bachelor officers’ quarters, but the drive takes a bit of time. I wanted to be closer to you.”

She leaned against the doorjamb. “Thank you, Zach.”

“Cops have to worse-case every situation, Ella. It’s not personal. It’s the way we roll. I don’t disbelieve you. I just needed to make sure. Your reaction proved to me that you’ve been truthful and sincere.”

“Evidently I don’t understand law enforcement.”

He almost smiled. “And I don’t understand medicine. Doctors have never been on my list of most favorite people.”

“Is it personal?”

He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Personal, as in a female doc broke your heart so you won’t like any of us.”

“No girlfriend. No fiancée. No ex-wife.”

“Then I’m wrong.”

“It stems from my childhood, but I’ll leave it at that.”

“And did that play in to your verbal attack against me?” she asked.

“It wasn’t an attack, Ella. I had questions that needed to be answered.”

“Which seemed more like an interrogation.”

He nodded. “I understand how you could misinterpret my intentions.”

She looked into the kitchen. “I’ve got a pot of chili cooking, if you’re hungry.”

“Are you sure you want company?”

“Of course. I’m sorry if I came off as antagonistic.”

Zach smiled. “Isn’t that what you accused me of being?”

“And you were exactly that, but I’m tired and not as forgiving as I should be.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Did I ask for forgiveness?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “If you didn’t, you should have. I’m trying to play nice.”

“You’re succeeding.”

“Does that mean you’ll accept my invitation to dinner?”

“Most assuredly. As they say in the South, ‘My mama didn’t raise no fools.’ I’d enjoy sharing a meal with you, but only if you let me take you out sometime.”

He hadn’t expected Ella’s surprised expression.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked.

“No.” He raised his hand as if to block anything she had been thinking along those lines. “A friendly dinner to pay you back for your hospitality.”

She blushed. “Now I’m feeling embarrassed. I wasn’t fishing for a date. You took me by surprise, especially after I kicked you out.”

“You made chili.”

“I’m reheating chili that was already made,” she corrected.

“That makes no difference. Food is food, and I’m hungry.”

Ella smiled. “The way I figure it, you’ve got to be down a couple meals.”

“It’s par for the course for a special agent. We work 24/7 when needed. I can live on coffee for longer than you would like to know.”

“Has your doctor mentioned the damage that could do to your stomach and esophagus? You’re opening yourself up to acid reflux and even more serious complications.”

Again, he held up his hand. “I’m doing okay, and I don’t have a primary care doc. If I get sick—and it’s rare that I do—I go on sick call. Although I can’t remember the last time I needed to be treated.”

“Hardy stock, eh?”

“Maybe it’s the coffee.” Zach couldn’t help but smile.

Ella laughed. The tension that he’d felt earlier evaporated. She stepped away from the door and motioned him into the kitchen.

“We’ll eat in here, if you don’t mind.”

He glanced at the vase of flowers by the window. “The least I can do is set the table.”

She pointed to a cabinet near the sink. “You’ll find silverware in the top drawer. We’ll need soup spoons, as well as knives and forks.”

Ella shoved a cast-iron skillet into the oven. “Do you like corn bread?”

“I do. That’s good Georgia food.”

“It’ll be done by the time the chili is hot. There’s butter in the refrigerator, if you want to put it on the table while I make a salad.”

She also made a pitcher of sweet tea.

Seeing the sugar she dumped into the warm liquid, Zach had to laugh. “You’re from up north, yet you make tea like a Southerner?”

“Does that seem strange?” She smiled. “Adding sugar when the tea is warm ensures it will dissolve, which is a lot more economical than putting it in individual glasses. Plus I like the taste.”

“No wonder the locals enjoy having you around.”

“Only some of them,” she said as she dropped ice into the pitcher.

“You’ve had problems before?”

“Not really. It’s just that some folks, especially the older Amish, don’t want me interfering in their lives.”

“Is that what they’ve said?”

She nodded. “A few, mainly men. The woman are relieved to have a doctor nearby in case their children get sick.”

Zach glanced out the window. “Do you ever get lonely out here, all by yourself?”

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “The weekends can be long, although I usually have something that needs attention around the clinic.”

She filled the glasses before glancing up at him. “What about you? Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“I wouldn’t call it lonely. Usually I stay busy. If I have some downtime, I head to the gym or go for a jog outside.”

“You can’t jog all day long.”

He laughed. “You’re right. After jogging, I shower and leave my BOQ, seeking food. Like a hunter of old, only I don’t have to stalk my prey. It’s usually served at one of the local restaurants. Which,” he said with a smile, “brings us back to my earlier question. Would you like to join me for a meal sometime?” He shrugged. “We can call it a business dinner if we talk about the investigation. If we stick to more general topics, it can be a chance for two people who know each other to connect. Or—” he smiled “—if you’d feel better, we could call it a date.”

Ella laughed. Her face softened, her eyes sparkled in spite of being tired, and she took on a new lighthearted appearance that he found enchanting. A date would be fun.

“Is this your normal modus operandi?” she asked.

“You speak Latin?”

She nodded. “Most doctors have a good understanding of the language.”

“I took it in high school,” he admitted.

“Really?” She seemed surprised.

“My mother loved biblical Roman times. She died when I was young. Reading the books she treasured and learning the language she had studied allowed me to feel closer to her.”

“I’m sorry.”

Zach shrugged. “We all carry baggage, the hurts and struggles from the past.”

Ella nodded knowingly. “Would I be correct in assuming that your mother’s death has something to do with your dislike of the medical profession?”

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