Worse Than Being Alone (9 page)

“
Murray, the big momma’s boy?”
Harley asked. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“
Harley, I’m telling you, there’s
something off about these people. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t
think is going to end well for Billy or Roni.”

Chapter Fifteen

Two weeks after the fateful wedding, I was hoping to
end the Mary Poppins saga once and for all. Paranoid about being
spotted, I traded vehicles with Roni just in case Mary recognized
my eye catching little red convertible. Harley’s front-end damage
had been repaired and though reluctant, he had tossed me the keys
along with several warnings about consequences should another
accident occur. I was sitting in front of Mary’s condo munching a
salad, hoping another shopping spree was imminent.

After that, I needed to get over
to St. John’s to visit a new referral and her family. Beverly Knull
worked in a fireworks factory. A huge explosion right before the
4
^th
of
July had rocked the plant, leaving her with second and third degree
burns over 60 percent of her body.

I had worked in the burn unit at
St. John’s for two years and still felt ambivalent about the
experience. Working with burn patients, while very rewarding, also
had the onus of being very depressing. There were patients who had
been burned so severely that surviving would not be an option. The
heart wrenching process of watching them die slowly and painfully
eventually caused me to seek a less stressful situation.

Skin is the largest organ in the
human body. The consequences of a severe burn are devastating to
every system. The incidence of complications is so staggering it
becomes difficult to predict survival. Beverly Knull would fall
into the 50/50 category, which meant her progress or lack of it
over the next couple of weeks would determine the outcome. I kept a
running list of top 10 ways I didn’t want to die, and getting
severely burned still remained Number One.

Mary Poppins burst out of her front door wearing a
black raincoat and carrying the familiar huge purse. She had a
spring to her step and a look of determination. Bingo, I thought as
I watched Mary jump in her CRV and take off.

I kept a loose tail, guessing Mary
might be headed for the Galleria, a huge mall located in Richmond
Heights, an upscale area with shopping and businesses. Mary exited
the highway at Brentwood, confirming my hunch. I parked several
rows over from Mary and watched her enter the mall. Mary headed for
Nordstrom, presumably to begin her shopping spree. She looked
content and completely at ease as if her actions were totally
legal.

I let her move through multiple
departments until I was sure Mary had lifted several items. When
Mary entered the jewelry department, I called the Nordstrom’s
operator, asking to be transferred to the security department. I
described Mary Poppins to the suspicious man who answered the
phone. Unsure they would follow up on my tip, I waited until I
spotted several burly men who appeared to be watching
Mary.

Retracing my steps to Harley’s van, I watched the
scene unfold as Mary left the mall, followed by the two men. Just
as Mary was about to step off the curb, they closed in and detained
the suddenly agitated Mary Poppins, who looked appropriately
outraged. I started humming as I drove away from the mall, headed
to St. John’s.

The elevator at St. John’s was
crowded, which was fine, as I was dreading checking on Beverly
Knull and meeting her family. Ghosts of burn unit patients I had
once cared for seemed to hover in the car as I rode up to the
seventh floor. Just for clarification, I don’t see dead people.
There just always seemed to be some kind of strange feeling or aura
I experienced when I worked in acute care. The hair on the back of
my neck would stand up as if some kind of presence was floating
around. The thought that usually crossed my mind was that it was
the Grim Reaper coming to collect someone.

I was on my way to meet the unit manager, Barbara
Talbot, whom I still considered a friend. Except for the ghosts, I
was the last person on the elevator by the time I got to the
seventh floor. The doors opened and I exited, making a sharp right
turn that led down the corridor to the unit located at the end of
the hallway.

When I reached the unit, I hit the button on the
automatic door and the loud swish announced my arrival. I spotted
Barbara Talbot, who smiled and came over to greet me. An ex nun,
Barbara is tall and thin, exuding a stern persona probably left
over from her years in the convent. Underneath that facade is a
wonderfully warm and compassionate soul. I just have to remind
myself not to talk like a drunken sailor when I’m around her.

“
Hey stranger,” she said as we
hugged. “Why don’t we go to my office for a minute? I’ll grab Ms.
Knull’s chart.”

Chart in hand, Barbara led the way to her office. As
a representative of the insurance company paying the bills, I was
allowed under Missouri law to review an injured worker’s chart.
Barbara closed the door and I took a seat in front of her desk.
Barbara handed me the chart.

I began flipping through the information, reading
the history and physical and progress notes. Shaking my head, I
asked. “She really has significant burns. What do you think her
chances are?”

“
My guess is 50-50,” she said.
“Most of her burns are second-degree, but 60 percent is a lot of
skin surface. She’s in a medically induced coma.”

“
She’s on a vent, right?” I asked,
referring to a machine that was providing respiration.

“
Yeah,” she said. “At this point,
she seems stable but you know how this goes.”

“
I remember all too well. A burn
like this is absolutely devastating. Her survival depends on
whether she can avoid complications, if she can fight off the
inevitable pneumonia and possible kidney failure. Tell me about her
family.”

“
There’s an ex husband and four
kids.” Barbara said. “It’s obvious the kids have no use for the ex.
I’m not sure why. The oldest is a daughter, Meadow, who is in law
school and constantly reminds us she’s watching us closely. She’s a
handful. The others are a lot younger. I get the feeling Meadow had
to grow up in a hurry. I told her you were coming and she had a lot
of questions. I’m not sure she’s going to be very receptive to your
involvement.”

“
Ah. Well, she wouldn’t be the
first. Is she here now?”

“
She’s probably in the waiting
room,” Barbara said. “She comes in between classes and studies in
there during the day. Then she brings the kids out late in the
afternoon for a visit and then they all go home. She has power of
attorney for her mom. At this point, the ex is not allowed in to
see Beverly. Come on, I’ll go with you and introduce
you.”

“
Thanks, Barbara,” I said as we
left the unit and went across the hall to the waiting
room.

I spotted Meadow Knull as soon as we entered the
room. It wasn’t because I’m smart or intuitive; she had her nose
stuck in a book with Criminal Law plastered on the cover. My first
impression was that Meadow Knull was very attractive but did
everything possible to cover it up, as if she thought the world
wouldn’t take her seriously if she happened to be beautiful. It
seemed like a bad omen, and I wasn’t disappointed at how our first
encounter unfolded.

Barbara made a quick introduction and escaped.
Meadow and I shook hands and she squeezed mine extra hard to let me
know who was going to be top dog. I was convinced at that point my
involvement would be limited to reviewing records.

“
Our ex-minister was named Talty?”
she asked. “Any relation?”

“
You mean James Talty?”

“
Yes, that was his name,” she
said. “We quit going to that Church because he’s an alcoholic. I
can spot them a mile away.”

“
I guess we have that in common.
He’s my ex-husband.”

“
I know your job is to save money
and send people back to work,” Meadow said, the challenge in her
voice unmistakable.

“
I don’t look at it that way. I
think my job is to make sure people get the best care possible.
Then they get better faster and go back to work sooner. In this
situation, I try to help the adjuster understand the medical
implications so she can set reserves. If you hadn’t hung up on her
she would have explained all that to you.”

“
Why should I trust you?” she
asked.

I handed her my business card and said. “It’s not
something I can talk you into to. You’ll have to trust your gut or
whatever name you call it. The bottom line is that I’m not going to
hurt you or your mother. So, if you want to talk, just call my
cell. The adjuster wanted me to ask you where you wanted her to
send the checks?”

“
Oh, tell her not to send them to
the house,” Meadow said. “My father might try to steal them. Do you
have another card I could write the address on?”

I handed her another card and a pen. She scribbled
the address, looked at me with the saddest blue eyes I had ever
seen, and placed the card and pen back in my hand. Then she did the
last possible thing I expected; Meadow started sobbing
uncontrollably.

Meadow Knull was about as tightly
wound as anyone I had ever met. I rejected my initial response,
which would have been to touch her arm to convey some sort of
reassurance. I was convinced she was probably into kickboxing or
martial arts. I was afraid to touch her for fear she would
seriously kick my ass. The harder she tried to stop the tears from
flowing the worse the deluge became.

I reached in my bag, handed her a Kleenex, and said.
“It must be hard to have to be in control every single minute of
every day.”

“
You have no idea,” she said,
wiping her cheeks.

“
You’re such a cynic. I think of
myself that way too, but it took years for me to get this way. How
do you account for that?”

“
You didn’t have Walter Knull for
a father,” she said. “He’s an alcoholic just like your ex. The only
time he comes around is if he thinks there might be some money he
can steal. Look, you seem OK to me. I would appreciate it if you
would send the checks to my boyfriend’s office. He’s a lawyer. I
have power of attorney for my mother, so I’ll be making decisions
as long as she’s unconscious. I’m in law school, too.”

Laughing, I said. “That explains a lot. I’ll tell
the adjuster. I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I worked in this unit
for a couple of years so if you have questions or concerns, let me
know.”

“
Do you think my mother will
survive?” she asked.

“
I don’t think anyone can say for
sure at this point. It’s very difficult to predict. I have
certainly seen patients with burns as severe as your Mom’s survive.
It usually comes down to complications. If her pneumonia resolves
and she doesn’t develop kidney failure, she has a
chance.”

As I drove to our new office, located on the first
floor of my condo building, I couldn’t stop thinking about Meadow.
I had the feeling she could handle anything Walter Knull threw at
her.

Chapter Sixteen

“
This is morning drive time on
KATZ Radio, FM 105. Those severe thunderstorms last night ushered
in a cold front so our high today is only expected to reach the
upper 70s. Quite a change from the last couple of weeks of 90 plus
temperatures. August comes in like a lamb. Enjoy St. Louis. Our
next song is White Horse, by Taylor Swift.”

“
This ain’t Hollywood, this is a
small town. I was a dreamer before you let me down. Too late for
you and your white horse to come around,” Roni belted out the
chorus while she waited in the back of a borrowed florist’s
van.

Roni had parked down and across
the street from the home of Tommy Tauzin, a construction worker who
had been off work for six months due to a work related neck injury.
Two days earlier, Roni had received a phone call from Tommy’s
adjuster, Lisa Madigan, who asked her to follow Tommy for a few
days. When Lisa had called Tommy’s house to ask him a question
about physical therapy, Tommy’s 10 year old son answered and told
Lisa to call back because his father was putting a new roof on the
house across the street.

Tinted windows on the van shielded
Roni from any inquiring eyes as she sipped the last of the coffee
from her thermos and hummed along with Taylor. One of the most
difficult problems Roni and Kitty encountered was finding vehicles
to borrow that would allow them to accomplish tailing activities.
They had even started renting non-descript white vans; anything to
avoid using the same vehicle two days in a row for surveillance.
That was a mistake most investigators seemed to make.

Workers’ comp cheats usually fall into two
categories: those who were blissfully unaware that any claim was
ever questioned, or the hyper-vigilant, those who crane their necks
constantly, assuming everyone was watching them. Roni remained on
the fence about Tommy Tauzin. She had arrived at Tommy’s residence
early the previous morning, driving Harley’s van.

Tommy’s activities involved attending physical
therapy and a trip to the grocery store. On the surface, Tommy
didn’t seem like he was paying much attention but Roni had been
fooled several times in the past. The only thing of interest
occurred when Tommy arrived at therapy.

Roni videotaped Tommy sitting in his car and putting
a soft collar on his neck before he got out of his car. After
therapy, he climbed in his car, removed the collar, and threw it in
the back seat. At that moment, Roni realized Tommy wasn’t paying
any attention and didn’t have concerns about being followed.