“Want me to carry them for you?” Jay asked.
“I was just complaining, not asking for help,” Rosie said.
He had to pick up his pace to keep up with her. They moved north toward the library. “How’d you find me?”
“Tony,” she said as if the answer was obvious. “He says he always knows where to find you because you’re so predictable. And he says you want help on Friday night.”
“Yes. We need help or it won’t work.”
“This is for my cousin, right?” She stopped to study his face.
“The one with the baby?” Jay asked.
“You guys pulled off the last one at the hockey game?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jay made a mental note to tell Tony to keep his big mouth shut.
“There’s a picture in the The Gauntlet today. Rex has that thing around his neck, and the newspaper caption says, “Rex is a dickhead.” My cousin will like that. Rosie smiled.
Jay unzipped his jacket. He felt warm in spite of the north wind. “Good.”
“I’ve got ten friends who want to help. We’ll be there Friday night right after the first game. You be ready.”
“But-” Jay said.
“Don’t worry. We know what to do. You two just have to do your part. See you then.” Rosie turned left into the library.
BOBBIE: Good afternoon. It’s Bobbie on the ride home. Thank you for the overwhelming support. I need more advice about a related topic. When you’ve got a terminal illness, what do you tell your child?
I, and many women like me, could sure use some advice. I’m Bobbie, speak to me.
Jay and Tony sat together in the mall, sipping coffee, and watching the people. They had twenty-three minutes before their shift started at 8:30 PM.
“How come you told Rosie about the plan?” Jay asked.
“You said we needed help. I asked her, she said no.” Tony leaned back. People had to take a detour, or trip over his outstretched feet.
“Well, she said yes this afternoon. She asked if we were the ones who got Rex at the hockey game. Did you see the picture in the paper?” Jay asked.
“A classic. That and the caption. Man, who says revenge isn’t sweet?” Tony closed his eyes as if trying to hold onto the image in his mind.
“The cops are looking for me,” Jay said.
Tony sat up, “What?”
“They came to my psych class. They told the prof to ask for me. I left class early.”
Tony studied his coffee cup. “Why would they want you?”
“I cut this guy off on Crowchild Trail. He rolled his truck up on its side,” Jay said.
“Did your car hit his truck?”
“No,” Jay said.
“Did he die?”
“Don’t think so,” Jay said.
“Did you check the news or read the papers?” Tony asked.
“No!”
“Do you realize how crazy that sounds?” Tony asked.
“Not as crazy as you might think,” Jay said.
Wednesday, October 21
Chapter 14
ARTHUR SMILED AND passed Lane the newspaper’s city section. “Read this.” He pointed at an article on page three.
Lane set his toast down and took the paper.
“You’re going to love it,” Arthur said when Lane began to read.
CITY WOMAN WINS RECOGNITION
The winner of the Daughters of Alberta (DOA) award for Outstanding Citizen of the Year is Mrs. Charity Smallway. Smallway is a twenty-year member of DOA.
“Charity has been recognized for her service to the community,” Mrs. Constance Dupuis, the chair of DOA explained at the Palliser Hotel awards ceremony.
Mrs. Smallway has been a champion of family values and fundraiser for many local charity organizations. Mrs. Smallway said, “I’m thrilled to be honoured in this way by women with moral integrity.”
Lane asked, “It’s really called DOA? like ‘Dead on arrival?’”
Arthur said, “Apparently. And just in case you forgot, Matt’s game starts at eight tonight.”
“Still haven’t got those new skates,” Lane said.
“Better hurry and get ready. Dr. Keeler said 7:30 AM.”
Lane smiled as he stood up from the kitchen table. “This is a switch. Keeler’s calling me for an appointment.” “No indication what it’s about?” Arthur asked.
“None. He just said he wanted to talk with me, alone. I haven’t had any tests lately, have I?”
“Not that I can think of. Are you going to tell him the nightmares are coming back?” Arthur asked.
Half an hour later Lane stood in the empty hallway outside Dr. Keeler’s office door. Lane knocked. He heard the deadbolt turn, then he was facing Dr. Keeler. He still reminded Lane of a horror writer, with his black hair, lined face and dark eyes accented by thumb-sized eyebrows. Keeler stood a good head shorter than the detective.
“Thanks for coming.” Keeler shook Lane’s hand.
The doctor looked as if he hadn’t slept last night.
“We can talk in my office.” Keeler lead the way down the hall until they reached his office set in one corner of the building. He ushered Lane in and closed the door behind them. He sat down beside Lane.
“You’ve got me worried.” Lane turned to look at the doctor.
“This is a very difficult situation.” Keeler was looking sideways at Lane. “I’ve been worrying about this for almost a week, then things came to a head yesterday.” He leaned forward.
Lane said, “I’m really in the dark here. What exactly are we talking about?”
“Bobbie Reddie’s radio show. She told her audience that she has cancer.”
Lane leaned back and put his hand to his mouth. Forcing himself to wait so the doctor could get his story out.
“What I’m about to tell you is breaking doctor- patient confidentiality. Another doctor has confided her concerns to me. You see, Bobbie was tested for cancer, and the biopsy was negative.”
Lane nodded and waited.
“You’re promising me this will stay confidential?” Keeler asked.
“Yes.”
“A child’s safety is at stake. I’m getting ahead of myself. I should have had a cup of coffee this morning.” Keeler shook his head to clear his mind. “Bobbie doesn’t have cancer, yet she’s acting as if she does. And she has been exhibiting signs of Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy.”
Lane held out his hands to signal his ignorance.
“She brought her children in to her family doctor with a wide variety of symptoms. My colleague tried to diagnose the symptoms but was always mystified until she considered Munchausen’s. It appears that Bobbie Reddie was causing her children to become ill, then taking them to the doctor. This went on for more than a year. My friend confronted Bobbie, and Ms. Reddie promptly threatened the doctor with a malpractice suit. Then Reddie moved on to another doctor. I checked with the next doctor. She is also becoming suspicious.
You see, I’m breaking an oath in telling you this, but I feel I have no choice because of the child. The surviving child is at tremendous risk.”
“How did you know I was investigating the Reddie murders?” Lane asked.
“It was reasonable to assume you are the investigator. You always come to me asking about cases which start out with missing persons,” Keeler said.
Lane smiled. “A good bit of deduction.”
“My colleague and I believe that the boy is in danger. The children’s symptoms were becoming more severe. It’s one of the reasons why Ms. Reddie was confronted.”
“Did you contact social services?” Lane asked.
“Munchausen’s is very hard to prove. We really only arrived at the conclusion, because all other possibilities had been eliminated. We’d hoped Ms. Reddie would be willing to seek treatment,” Keeler said.
“So, you were consulted by the other doctor on the Reddie case?” Lane asked.
“Yes.”
“Did the father ever come on the visits?”
“Not once,” Keeler said.