As the guests finally left one by one, Dennis accompanied the Cramers.
Rick quietly watched everyone from the front windows of the house. Coop used the excuse of helping Harry load her horses to go back to the trailers.
"I'll ride home with you." Cynthia's voice indicated this was an order not a request.
"Great."
"Rick's going to push Sam and Jordan about the records and he wants me to stick with you."
"I'd say there's someone at this breakfast today who is sweating bullets."
"You know, here's where the human ego baffles me. Why not take the money and run? If you're the kingpin of this scam, you know the noose is being tightened-just run," Coop said.
"Maybe the money is not easily retrieved."
"All the more reason to run." Coop shrugged.
"I think it's ego. He thinks he can outsmart all of us."
"Could be. He's done a good job so far." Coop waved as the Cramers and Dennis pulled out.
By the time Harry and Coop reached the farm, unloaded the horses, fed them, cleaned up, they were tired.
As they discussed the events of the day, the animals listened.
"I hate to admit this but I'm hungry again." Harry laughed.
"I can always eat."
They raided the refrigerator.
"You know, Mom has that chirpy quality," Tucker noticed.
"That means she's going to do something really dumb." Murphy said what Tucker and Pewter were thinking.
46
Rick walked into his office just as the dispatcher told him to pick up line one.
"Sheriff Shaw."
"Hi, Sam Mahanes. I dropped back by the hospital after Tally's breakfast and we do have records for cleaning out the infusion pumps. Joe Cramer must have been confused."
"Where are you now?"
"Home."
"Can anyone working a computer terminal at the hospital pull up a maintenance file?"
"No. If people could do that they could also get into medical records, which are strictly confidential. The only people accessing the maintenance file would be myself. Well, Ruth, of course, Hank Brevard, and now Bobby Minifee."
"What about the men working with Bobby? Someone like Booty Weyman. Wouldn't Bobby teach him to use the computer? Anybody responsible for equipment, for shipping, would have to access the records."
"I'll double-check with Bobby on Monday. I'm not sure. I always assumed Hank gave marching orders and that was that."
"Maybe he did but it would have made his life a lot easier if someone could work the computer, otherwise he'd have been bugged on his days off, on vacation." Rick paused. "And Jordan Ivanic. As your second-in-command he would have the maintenance records or know how to get them."
Sam airily dismissed Jordan. "He could, I suppose, if he felt it germane but Jordan shows little interest in those matters. He likes to focus on 'above the line' as he calls it. He feels that maintenance, orderlies, janitorial, and even nurses are 'below the line.'"
"Speaking of nurses, are you on good terms with Tussie Logan?"
"Yes. She's one of our best." A questioning note filtered through Sam's even voice.
"H-m-m, why don't you meet me in your office in about an hour? Jordan will be on duty this weekend. We can all go over this together."
"Sheriff, an oversight about infusion pumps seems small beer compared to the murders."
"On the contrary, Sam, this may be the key." He paused. "Anything not quite on the tracks at Crozet Hospital interests me right now. And one other little thing. Joe and Laura Cramer have examined the invoices. The billing numbers aren't their billing numbers. These invoices are bogus, Sam." Rick could hear a sharp intake of breath.
"In an hour. Eight-fifteen."
47
"Coop, are you going to spend the night?" Harry innocently asked.
"Yes." Cynthia checked her watch. It had been losing time.
"Seven." Harry answered without being asked.
"I'd much rather the damn thing gained time than lost it. Well, it only cost me forty dollars so I suppose I could afford another one. There's no sense wearing good watches on my job." She reset her watch, to synchronize with Harry's: seven o'clock.
"Those Navy Seals watches are pretty neat. They glow in the dark."
"So do people who live near nuclear reactors," Coop joked.
"Ha ha." Harry stuck out her tongue. "Wouldn't it be helpful if you could read the dial in the dark? What if you're creeping up on a suspect or you have to coordinate times, synchronize in the dark?"
"Your fervid imagination just runs riot."
"You should live here." Pewter yawned.
"Coop, there's two of us. I've got a .38 pistol. You've got your service revolver."
"Harry, where is this leading?"
"To Crozet Hospital."
"What?!"
"Now hear me out. Three people are dead. My stitches still itch. Joe baited Sam, Bruce, and Jordan. Right?"
"Right."
"What we're looking for has to be in that basement. Has to be."
"Rick Shaw and I crawled over that basement with a fine-tooth comb. We studied the blueprints. We tapped the walls to see if any are hollow. I don't see how we could have missed anything."
"The floor," Murphy practically screeched in frustration.
"Pussycat, do you have a tummy ache?" Harry swung her legs off the sofa but Murphy jumped on her lap to save her the trip to the chair.
"I am fine. I am better than fine. What you want is underneath your feet."
"Yeah!" Pewter joined the chorus.
"It's so obvious once you know," Tucker barked.
"Pipe down." Harry covered her ears and they shut up.
"Something provoked them."
"Human stupidity," Murphy growled.
"Maybe you need a tiny shot of Pepto-Bismol."
"Never." Mrs. Murphy shot off Harry's lap so fast she left tiny claw marks in Harry's thigh.
"Ouch. Murphy, behave yourself."
"You ought to listen to us." Tucker stared at her mother, her liquid brown eyes soulful.
"Here's my idea. We take our guns. We take a good flashlight and we go back down there together. I even think we should take Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker. They can sense and smell things we can't. Coop, you know Rick won't let me or the kids down there and what we need is there. Has to be."
"You're repeating yourself."
"This is our only chance. It's nighttime. There won't be as many people around. The loading dock will be closed. We'll have to contend with whoever is on night duty, assuming we can find him. Come on. You're a trained officer of the law. You can handle any situation."
It was the appeal to Cooper's vanity that wore down her defenses. "It's one thing if I gamble with my life, it's another if I gamble with yours."
"What about mine?" an insulted Pewter yowled.
"God, Pewter, you can't be hungry again." Harry returned her attention to Cynthia Cooper. "You gamble every day you put your foot out of bed. Life is a gamble. I really want to get whoever killed Larry Johnson. I can't say I'm motivated by Hank's death or Tussie's, not that I wished them dead, but Larry was my doctor, my friend, and a good man. I'm doing this for him."
Cooper thought a long time. "If I take you, will you shut up? As in never mention this to Rick?"
"Scout's honor."
Another long pause. "All right."
"Oh brother." Tucker hid her eyes behind her paws.
48
Harry drove her old blue truck around to the back of the hospital. Everyone in town knew that truck but it was less obvious than Coop's squad car. She parked next to the back door. Had Harry parked out in the open parking lot even though she was at the rear of the hospital, the truck would have been more noticeable.
Cynthia checked her watch. It was seven-fifteen.
Harry double-checked hers. "Seven-fifteen."
The young officer checked her .357, which she wore in a shoulder holster. It was a heavy, long-barreled revolver. She favored long barrels since she felt they gave her more accuracy, not that she looked forward to shooting anyone.
Harry shoved her .38 into the top of her jeans.