Critical Impact (13 page)

While they waited, Stu called Anna on her cell phone and told her about the overnight arrangements for her mother and aunt. “I'll be going over there, too. Alec and I have both decided to stay at the house, so there will be police officers there.”

“Stu, there's something I need to do. I got a letter. It's in an envelope in my Bible and my Bible is on the nightstand in my room. Can you get it for me?” Anna asked.

“It must be an important letter,” he said.

“Can you get it without showing it to any of the other police who are there? It's a very private letter. I'll let you read it when you bring it to me later tonight or tomorrow.”

Stu said he would.

He easily found the letter in Anna's Bible. Because she had asked him not to show it to anyone, he put it in a pocket inside his jacket.

When Steve finally arrived, he immediately took control. He asked the right questions and gave the right assignments. While Alec and Roy systematically looked through the electrical boxes, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Stu.

“I got a lot of information on that wire in the woods. I wrote it all down.”

Stu took out the sheet and skimmed it. He looked up at Steve. “Marine wire?” he said.

“Used in marine applications. This particular wire came from an old sailboat. It's been weathered and we found salt corrosion in it. It's probably from an old sailboat that spent a lot of time on the ocean.”

“So not a boat that would be on Whisper Lake?”

“There's salt in the strands of the wire. This is a small lake and the water isn't salty. That wire was on a sailboat that spent most of its time on the ocean.” Stu, who knew nothing about sailboats, asked, “What do they use that wire for?”

“For sailboat rigging. Either standing rigging or running rigging.”

So it came from a boat. Another piece of the puzzle to add to the mix. And he was being taken right back to the beginning. Hilary's ex-husband was currently sailing up the coast. Connection? He didn't know, but it was worth pursuing. He just didn't know how. He put Steve's report in his pocket next to Anna's letter and called Liz. He decided he wanted someone to come to the hospital and stay with Anna all night. He was remembering the dream she had about being smothered and remembering the man he had seen on the elevator.

When he finally got hold of Liz, she told him she
had tracked down the license-plate number of the silver car.

“Tell me,” he said.

“It's stolen.”

The wire strung across the path, the faulty electrical box, the bombing and now a stolen silver car. He was sure they were getting closer to figuring it all out. And the first thing they had to do was bring in Marg's boarder for questioning.

A
nna was glad that Sara was the night nurse again.

“You again,” Sara said, but she was smiling.

“Yep. Me again. Can't get rid of me that easily.”

Sara stopped, stood at the end of her bed. “You seem sad. Are you okay? How's the head?”

“I feel okay physically. Maybe a little tired. There are going to be police checking on me all night.”

Sara nodded. “We know all about that. Right now there's a guard sitting outside your door—did you know that? I admit that this is a first for us in Whisper Lake Crossing Hospital. Now, can I get you something? Toast? Juice?”

“I don't think I could eat anything.”

“Well, if there's anything, anything at all, just give me a buzz. I'll be in later to take your temperature and all those other lovely things.”

A couple of hours later, Liz came and sat down on a chair in the corner. Stu had told Anna that Liz
would be staying with her for the night. Anna said, “Hello.”

“Hi. I'll be here for a while. Also, if I were you I wouldn't talk. There are still those charges pending.”

Liz seemed agitated. Maybe it had something to do with where she'd just been. Even though she sat in an uncomfortable, straight-back chair, she pulled one leg up and under her and opened a book. Anna didn't sleep. Occasionally she looked over at Liz, who had affixed one of those little book lights to her book.

“You have a hard and interesting job,” Anna said out loud a short time later. “The pieces have to fit together to form the whole.”

Liz looked up from her book. “What?”

“I just said you have a difficult job. I admire you.”

“Thanks. I enjoy it.”

“I can tell.

“I come from a family of police officers. My father was a policeman.”

“I can't imagine it.”

Liz got up. “I'm going for a cup of coffee. You want one? The guard is in the hall. I'll be back in ten minutes.”

“No, thank you,” Anna said.

She couldn't sleep. She thought about her arrest. She thought about her arm, and that gave way to thinking about her job. How would she work if she
only had limited use of her hand? “The artistry is in your head, not your fingers,” she could almost hear Rodney say.

As she pondered that and prayed, she thought that perhaps it was true. Perhaps God had something new in store for her, something exciting for her to do, someone new to be.

She heard a bit of a commotion and looked up to see a doctor standing in her doorway, leaning into the doorjamb and pushing buttons on a cell phone with his thumbs. She lay very still and watched him. She looked over to where Liz had been. The security guard was not there, either. Neither was Stu. Where were they?

Anna didn't move. The doctor was looking at her, but she was sure that in the darkness he thought she was sleeping. Without moving her head, she looked for the call button. Nowhere in sight. Slowly, Anna moved her left hand, searching for the nurse call button. The doctor looked as if he just come from surgery. He was wearing green scrubs and, again, a surgical mask.

Anna was suddenly very frightened. It came to her all at once that this was the man who had tried to smother her with a pillow when she was first brought in after the bombing! Should she call out? But the guards had all disappeared.

She moved her left hand slowly to feel for that call button. It had fallen down along the side of the bed.
She found the end of the cord and gradually began bringing it up beside her.

When she found the button, she pressed it over and over again. At the same time she sat up quickly and yelled as loud as she could, “Sara!”

Anna heard running in the hallway. Sara appeared in her room. “What?”

“He was here. The man who tried to kill me. He was standing at the door,” Anna said.

“What man?”

“The man. The doctor. He was in the doorway. Who was he? He was here before.”

She said, “There's no doctor here, Anna. No one is here.”

Anna knew what she had seen. This time it couldn't be blamed on medication.

Anna said, “I saw him. Where were you, Sara, just a moment ago? Maybe five minutes? Were you at the nurses' station?”

“I was checking on a patient.”

“Are there any other nurses? How many are on duty tonight?”

“This is a small hospital. We only have two tonight. But we got a couple of nursing calls just a minute ago. So both of us were checking on patients…” She stopped and put a hand to her mouth. “But it was the strangest thing. When we got to the rooms our patients had fallen back to sleep.”

Liz came back into the room, holding a coffee. She saw Sara and said, “What happened?”

They told her. Then Anna said quietly, “Sara, think back, remember back to when I was here that first week—when I said that someone tried to smother me.”

“I remember,” Sara said. Something seemed to dawn on her. “It was the same then. Someone down the opposite hall rang the nursing bell. I went, but the patient was asleep by the time I got there.”

“Then he's here!” Liz said. “Whoever he is, he's still here.” She pulled out her cell phone and Sara rushed to call security to secure the exits.

“We'll get him this time,” Liz said to Anna. “He couldn't have gotten away.”

But Anna wasn't so sure.

 

Alec was right. This was turning out to be a night of no sleep. As soon as Liz told Stu about the license number, the two of them had gone together out to the Seeley mansion to talk to the basement dweller.

“I did some research on the car's owner,” Liz had told Stu on the way over. “The car is registered to a Mr. Reginald Pinter. He didn't answer his phone—that's why it took me so long to track this thing down. I did some more digging. Through his neighbors I was able to find out where he was. Reginald Pinter, who lives in Naples, Massachusetts, is currently overseas on business. Two weeks ago he left his car in long-
term parking at Logan Airport. I gave him the bad news about his stolen car. He'll be on his way home tomorrow.”

“So,” Stu said when he had parked the squad car in the Seeleys' circular driveway. “Marg's boarder steals a car from long-term parking. That way it doesn't get reported stolen for a while. Good thinking. He gets a car and comes out here long enough to bomb City Hall. I should have paid more attention to him. I should have listened to my gut instinct. The moment I saw him I knew there was something off about him. I don't see the silver car here, do you?”

“Nope,” Liz said. “Unless he parked around back somewhere. I guess we'll soon find out.”

Flashlights in hand, they made their way around the side of the Seeley mansion. There were a few lights on in the main part of the house, but they weren't interested in the main part of the house; they were interested in the basement apartment. The basement was dark.

Stu knocked. No answer. Stu banged louder and called, “Police! Open up! Now!”

Still no answer. The place remained in darkness. “What do you think?” Liz asked. “He could be a heavy sleeper.”

“Or he could be gone.”

Instead of trying to break down the door, they decided to talk to Marg. She must have seen or heard
them, because as soon as they walked up her front steps she was on the porch.

“Stu?” she said, looking from one to the other and back again. Her lower lip quivered.

“Marg,” Stu said. “We're looking for the man who stayed in your basement.”

Marg didn't say anything for a while. She twisted her hands in front of her. She didn't look at them, but looked at a spot over their shoulders when she said, “He's gone. He left today.”

“What do you mean gone?” Liz asked.

“He moved out.”

“Marg,” Stu said. “Who was he and what was he doing in Whisper Lake Crossing? It's time you told us everything you know about him, and how he came to live here.”

“I told you. I met him in church.”

“Marg.” Stu softened his voice. “What is his name? Please. No tricks. We need his name.”

Her lip quivering, she said, “I didn't know him too well. Just from church. His name is Reg, Reg Pinter. That's all I know. I just know his name.”

“How did you know him from church?”

Marg put a shaky hand to her face. “We just…got an announcement…in church…that someone needed a place to stay.” She spoke each word slowly. “So…I…” She stopped. “Did he do something wrong? Is that why the two of you are here?”

Liz said, “The car he drove was stolen, and we also
don't believe that the name of the person who stayed here was Reginald Pinter. The real Reginald Pinter is in England and is flying home tomorrow.”

“Oh, dear.” Marg looked near tears.

“We need to see his apartment.”

Marg nodded, went inside. “I'll have to find the key,” she said. “I don't know where it is.” She put a hand to her face. “I think it's upstairs. Wait in the foyer. I'll be right down with the key.”

As soon as Marg went up her long staircase, Stu walked right through the foyer.

“Where are you going?” Liz whispered as Stu made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen.

He motioned her to follow him. Marg's laptop was closed on the kitchen table. Stu lifted the lid and sat down in front of it.

“You shouldn't be doing that,” Liz said.

Stu ignored Liz. He was staring down to the last Web page that had been opened on her computer. It was a bomb-making Web site. “Take a gander at this.” He made no attempt to keep his voice down.

“Interesting,” Liz said.

Marg came back with the key and stood in the doorway looking at them, a shocked expression on her face.

“Interesting Web site you're looking at, Marg.”

“Do you know you can find practically anything on the Web?” Marg seemed calmer than she was before. “I was going to talk to you about that. I was just seeing
how easy it was to find information like this on the Internet. It's really easy. Did you know how easy it is?”

“I know,” Stu said.

“I was doing this because I was thinking about my Johnny. He was almost killed by a bomb. Anyone could have done that to my Johnny.”

“Speaking of your Johnny,” Stu said. “I saw him tonight. He says he would love to have you come and visit him.”

Marg walked over and closed the lid of her computer. “I haven't been able to get up there and visit him yet. I'm a bit shaky in my car.”

“Right,” Stu said. “Do you have that key to the apartment?”

She handed it to him. “And I am amazed,” she said, shaking her head, “at how easy it would be for someone just to follow the directions online to make a bomb. I'm horrified, actually.”

The three of them went into the basement apartment. It was no surprise to Stu that the entire room was clean. The computer and printer were gone. The dishes in the sink were washed and put away. Stu smelled bleach. Whoever had lived here had packed up, cleaned up and gone. Stu wandered around the empty apartment. He had no doubt that there would be no trace of fingerprints, nothing. Yes, this man had cleaned up after himself well. Stu was fairly confident that they wouldn't find a usable fingerprint in the
entire apartment, but that didn't mean they weren't going to try.

After he dropped Liz off at the hospital, he brought Alec up-to-date. Alec and Steve were still going through the electrical wiring at Catherine's house, but it was looking more and more as if this was the only switchbox that had been tampered with. They should bring the Shawnigan and DeLorme police in to help them with this. It was clear that they had more on their plate than their three-person department could handle.

Alec told Stu to go home. He and Steve and the squad from DeLorme would be dusting Marg's basement apartment for fingerprints.

Stu went home, but not to sleep. How could he sleep? Instead, he sat on the couch in his living room and pulled out Anna's letter, fingered it bit, considering, but didn't open it. He put it back in his jacket pocket.

Next he went over Steve's report in full. The wire came from the rigging of an old sailboat. It suddenly came back to him. Hilary's ex-husband was sailing up the coast right now. On a sailboat. Connection? Possibly. Stu didn't know. He got out his notebook, found the cell-phone number for Hilary's ex-husband, Jack. He phoned him, even though it was the middle of the night. A message informed him that the party he was trying to reach was out of range.

He had begun making notes, drawing lines, creating a chart.

That's when he must have dozed, because at a little after three in the morning, his phone rang, jarring him out of a deep sleep.

It was Liz. Something was happening at the hospital. Something with Anna.

He grabbed his jacket and his gun, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.