Code blue, p.23

Code Blue, page 23

 

Code Blue
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“Oh, I like that,” Annie said, grinning. “What about Turner and Clayton?”

  “Turner, yes. Not sure about Clayton. Anybody have an opinion?”

  “We didn’t find any dead bodies on the premises in Florida, but that doesn’t mean there hadn’t been, or they weren’t gearing up for it,” Izzie said.

  “The women have been trading rubbish, regardless,” Fergus reminded them.

  “I still can’t wrap my head around how people could stomach it.” Kathryn made another face.

  “They weren’t technically killing people,” Maggie offered. “But then there are the drugs they were withholding from the patients. They were complicit in that respect. That’s plain cruelty.”

  Annie shook her head in disgust. “Yoko, can you get enough of the organo-stuff for at least four people? I am sure Gerber has a partner in this,” Annie stated.

  “Most likely Hawthorne. According to his record, he has introduced nothing but additional funding for nursing homes. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but it appears that it was in his own personal interest. That is, if we are right about our suspicions,” Fergus added.

  “Alright, everyone. Proceed as if everything is normal. We’ll reconvene tomorrow evening. We should have information from Avery by then.”

  “Good night, everyone,” Myra said, and yawned.

  “Mind as you go.” Fergus signed off.

  The Following Day

  Florida

  Edith Clayton tried to swipe her key card to one of the offices. She tried again. Then a third time. “I hate these things!” She stormed off to her own office to get a new one.

  Three Hours Later

  Arizona

  Janet Turner entered the care center. She nodded at Kathryn, turned, and walked toward the clandestine door. She swiped it. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. She started kicking the door, while Kathryn could barely keep her self from rolling over in hysterics. She watched as Turner practically exploded.

  “Why doesn’t anything work around here?” she bellowed. Then she turned toward Kathryn, who was literally biting her tongue. Kathryn looked up from her desk. “Something wrong?”

  That’s when Turner actually exploded. “I am so sick of people not doing a job properly!”

  “Excuse me. Did I do something wrong?” Kathryn maintained her cool. It wasn’t easy.

  “No, you fool. Can’t you see my key card isn’t working?” She was heaving. “Now I have to go back to the main office and get another one.” She stomped down the hall and out the door. Kathryn could swear a black stream of smoke was coming out of Turner’s ears.

  Chapter Eighteen

  More Revelations

  Washington, D.C.

  Sasha crawled along the side of Gerber’s car just before dawn. She placed the tracker under the chassis of his vehicle. It was more for assurance, should she lose sight of him. It rarely happened, but it was a matter of just in case.

  She sat across the street from his townhouse and waited. Around six-thirty, a blond woman wearing sunglasses and a scarf exited his place. “Well, now. I wonder who this could be,” she muttered under her breath, as she took a photo of her and uploaded it to Fergus. Their facial recognition would be able to identify her.

  Two hours later, Gerber walked out of his house and got in his car. Sasha waited for him to pull away and followed a few car lengths behind. On his way to the Senate office building, he stopped at a coffee shop. She recognized the person he was meeting. It was Congressman Maxwell Hawthorne. She clicked a few more photos and sent them on. Now she knew whose car would get the next tracking device.

  As she watched from several yards away, she could see the conversation was tense. She pulled out her iFlytek long-range audio recorder that had a range of fifty feet.

  Gerber was speaking in a heated tone. “I told you to chill. Edith and Janet just signed on two new residents. We have over a hundred grand to work with.”

  “That is not going to do it. The social security payments are drying up. We only have four more people in hospice care.”

  “Okay. So, when they go, we’ll still have a month to collect the money.”

  “Spencer, do the math. That’s only eight thousand, give or take,” Max huffed.

  What Max didn’t know was that Spencer already had done some math and moved over a hundred thousand from their coffers into his personal account.

  “Take it easy, man.” Spencer tried to calm his partner. “What’s with you this morning?”

  “Besides our finances turning into a dumpster fire? Karen rolled in at six-thirty this morning. She went out with some friends and got totally blotto and spent the night at Sarah’s.” Max let out a long breath. “I don’t know what’s going on with her lately. Her credit cards are through the roof. Plus, she’s been going out until all hours, and when she gets home, she smells of booze and I don’t know what else.”

  Gerber knew exactly what Max was talking about. She smelled of a sexual romp. Spencer suggested she shower before she went home, but Karen thought it was silly. “He’ll be asleep, and I’ll freshen up when I get there.” Gerber wondered how long the two could keep up the affair. It wasn’t as if he was in love with Karen. It was the thrill of doing something illicit. That, plus their Sunnydale scam kept him on a staggering high. Add the ice he was snorting, and he was at a cruising altitude of a commercial airliner.

  While Sasha continued to monitor their conversation, she got a verification of the woman’s identity from earlier that morning. Sure enough, it was Karen Hawthorne, wife of Maxwell Hawthorne. Interesting, she thought to herself. This is quite the tangled web.

  Neither of the men went into the coffee bar.

  “Like I said, Maxwell. Chill. And stop acting like a scaredy cat. People are going to wonder why you’re so jumpy. Later, man.” Gerber walked toward his car, and Max got into his.

  Sasha decided to follow Max so she could put a tracker on his car. She would be able to find Gerber on her device.

  Max drove into the parking garage near the Rayburn Building. Sasha would flash her Press I.D. to gain entry. She drove slowly behind Hawthorne and watched where he parked. She took a space a few feet away. Once he was inside the building, she got out of her car, circumvented the security cameras, and placed the tracking device under his vehicle. She got back in her car, left the parking garage, and found a spot on the street just outside of the exit ramp. And waited.

  Inside, Maxwell Hawthorne was having foreboding thoughts. He was sure his wife was having an affair. But with whom? And Gerber? He was in denial. Max’s stomach was churning. He thought about pulling out of the scheme. He had skimmed almost a half million dollars over the past five years. Tax-free. Too bad his wife spent most of it. He checked his bank account. It was dwindling down. Time to stop the bleeding. He’d ask Spencer for a small cut, and then bail. It was getting too risky, and if they got caught, it would be the end of their careers, and both of them could end up in prison.

  He picked up the phone and dialed Gerber’s number.

  “What’s wrong now?” Spencer sounded exasperated.

  “I want to get out.”

  “What? You can’t get out. We are in this together.”

  “Then we have to dump this thing.” Max thought his heart was going to blow through his chest.

  “No can do, bro. Too much at stake.”

  “Yes, our careers, and who knows what else.” Max was close to hyperventilating.

  “I wish you would take it easy.”

  “Here’s a news flash for you. I can’t. I want out.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “What do you propose we do about funding?” Max asked. “We’re not going to get a million dollars for each facility.”

  “And why not? So, we don’t get additional funding. What we’ve been getting so far has been good. The residential part is holding its own.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. They. Are. Not. The expenses are through the roof, and if we want to break ground for a new place, we are going to need the funds to do it. They’re just not there.” Max was feeling more confident. He clearly had a better grasp of the finances than Gerber did. Not that it made it any better, but Max could talk facts, something Gerber had long forgotten how to do.

  Max continued, “That pharmacy skim is no longer viable since Sykes caught on.”

  Too bad Sykes survived the wreck, Gerber thought to himself. At least the drug charges should keep him busy.

  “Our interpretation of ‘long-term care’ is dwindling. We have less than half of the patients we thought we’d have this year.” Max had his personal laptop open to the financial records. He started to skim the sheets to give Gerber exact amounts. Then he froze. He looked at his screen and blinked. “Spencer, who was supposed to renew the licenses?”

  “Janet. Why?”

  “They’ve lapsed,” Max snapped at him. “This is exactly what Hannah was saying, and we happen to have two of them.” He took another deep inhale. “What do you suggest, senator?” Max said with disgust.

  “That can’t be. Janet is always on top of things.”

  “You’ve overloaded her recently. She could have dropped the ball.”

  “Let me find out.”

  “Spencer, I see the expiration dates of the certificates. They were up two months ago.”

  Now Gerber was starting to sweat. He had made several transactions that would keep him under the radar. In total, it was more than his annual salary. But for him, it wasn’t enough. His mind was racing. He could open a few more bank accounts and transfer whatever was left in the Sunnydale coffers. He simply didn’t get what Max was telling him, that there was no money left, in part because of his transfers.

  “Like I said, Spencer. I am out. You are on your own.”

  “Max. Wait. Let’s meet later and talk this through.” Gerber had no idea what the solution could be, but maybe Max could figure something out. He was good at solving problems, especially mathematical ones. “The Filibuster? Four o’clock?”

  “Yeah. Alright.” Max hung up. He stared at the wall for a very long time, trying to decide what he should do next. He thought doing nothing might be the best path. Maybe he could talk Spencer into stepping back. Sell both properties and pay off their debts. It was worth the conversation.

  Sasha watched Hawthorne pull out of the garage. She checked Gerber’s tracker. It appeared they were heading in the same direction. Several minutes later, Hawthorne pulled in front of The Filibuster Bar & Grill. Gerber’s car was a block away and moving toward her direction. Sasha sent Charles a text with their new location. He told her to go inside and try to record what they were saying. She went in and found a seat at the bar within range of her listening device and transmitted their conversation.

  “What if we get investors?” Gerber asked.

  “It can be risky involving other people.”

  “They can be silent partners.”

  “Do you know anyone with a couple of million dollars to spare?”

  “This is Washington, D.C., pal. Look around. Everyone in this place has their hand in somebody’s pocket.”

  Max thought one last-ditch effort might work. “Okay, where do we start?”

  That was all Charles needed to hear. Time for another ruse. This time it would be Nikki, looking to invest some of the family’s fortune.

  That evening, the Sisters had their next call. And they now had much more information.

  Charles began, “Maxwell Hawthorne is Spencer Gerber’s partner. They are bleeding money, especially since Gerber drew the remaining funds from the company. They are desperate to find investors. Nikki, phone the main office of Sunnydale in Arizona. Tell them you would like to speak to someone in management. You’ll probably get Nurse Ratched.”

  “We don’t even know if she’s really a nurse,” Kathryn said.

  “They are chomping at the bit to get funds. Once you make contact, let them know you’ll meet them Wednesday evening to discuss this endeavor.”

  “Got it.” She jotted down a few notes. “As for Sykes, they dropped the charges against him. He’s due to leave the hospital the day after tomorrow.”

  “Maggie, you need to get to him and let him know he is being relocated. Tell him not to panic, but it was part of the agreement for dropping the charges,” Myra said as she stroked her pearls. “We know that’s not the truth, but it will work in his case.”

  “Roger.”

  “And if he asks how you came across this information, you’ll tell him you are not at liberty to say. He’s simply going to have to trust you,” Annie instructed.

  “Got it.”

  “Yoko, how soon can you get your hands on the pesticide?” Annie asked. “And can you ship some to Kathryn?”

  “Two days. I should be able to manage it,” Yoko responded.

  “One more day of pretending,” Charles said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Scamming the Scammers

  Washington, D.C.

  There was only one phone number listed for Sunnydale on all of the documents, website, and brochures. It was the one in Arizona. Nikki dialed.

  “Good morning. My name is Nikki Quinn. I represent the estate of the Rutledge family. Is there someone I can speak to about investment opportunities?”

  “One moment, please.” The general operator put the call through to Janet Turner.

  A gruff voice answered. “This is Janet Turner. How can I help you?”

  “My name is Nikki Quinn. I represent the estate of the Rutledge family. Is there someone I can speak to about investment opportunities?”

  “I’m sorry, we are not looking to invest in anything,” the woman barked back.

  “Oh, no. We are not looking for you to invest. The family I represent is looking to invest money. We have a short window of opportunity, but there is three million dollars that has to be moved into an investment property as quickly as possible.”

  There was silence on the other end. Then, “How did you hear about us?”

  “Sunnydale is known throughout the country. It’s considered a model for retirement communities. With each generation living longer, we believe there is a future for continued growth.”

  “I see.” Turner’s wheels were spinning.

  “Is there someone I can meet with to discuss the possibility?”

  Turner scurried to find a pad and pen. “Let me have your information, and I will call you back shortly.”

  “Fine. But please keep in mind, my time is limited, and I am leaving the country; therefore, I want to get this settled before I travel. Should the principals be interested, I would like to visit the location in Florida, since I’m in the same time zone.”

  Turner was practically blubbering. “Sure. I’ll get on it right away. Thank you.”

  Nikki was convinced Turner bought it. She figured Turner would get back to her momentarily.

  Janet Turner’s hands were shaking, probably for the first time since, forever. Nothing ever fazed her, but lately? The pressure has been on, and now there may be a solution. She grappled with the phone to find Spencer’s private number.

  A concerned voice answered. “Aunt Janet? What’s going on?”

  “A most fortuitous phone call just came through.”

  “Oh?” Gerber could not imagine his aunt bringing anything to the table. What she lacked in personality, she made up with spite.

  “Yes. A woman named Nikki Quinn called. She represents the Rutledge family. They are looking to invest money. Here!” It was the most joyous Janet Turner had ever sounded.

  “Hold on. You say a woman named Nikki Quinn has someone who wants to invest?”

  “Yes. She represents the Rutledge family.”

  Spencer turned toward his laptop and looked up Rutledge Industries. Sure enough, the company was valued close to a hundred million dollars. He let out a whistle. “You sure it wasn’t a prank?”

  “Who would do such a stupid thing?” She was losing her patience. “Do you want the information or not?”

  “Yes, Aunt Janet. Please,” he said with insincere earnest.

  She spelled out the name and gave him the number. “She’s waiting for your call.”

  Spencer circled the name and phone number. “Nikki Quinn, you may have saved us from a major train wreck.” He straightened up and dialed the number.

  “Nikki Quinn,” a melodious voice answered.

  “Hello. This is Spencer Gerber.”

  “Senator Gerber?” Nikki asked, as if she had no idea who it was.

  “One and the same. I understand you have a client who is interested in investing in Sunnydale.”

  “That is correct. What is your relationship with them, if I may ask?”

  “Truth be told, they’re owned by one of my campaign contributors. I try to look out for the people who look out for me.”

  “I see. Is it possible for us to meet?”

  “Yes, of course.” He considered including Max. It was probably a good idea. He was the numbers guy. “There is another person who we should include in our meeting. Congressman Maxwell Hawthorne. Sunnydale has a location in his district.”

  “Yes, I am aware. If we can meet within the next forty-eight hours, and come to a verbal agreement, I would like to tour the location in Florida over the next few days.”

  “That should work for us. I’ll get in touch with Max. When and where do you want to meet?”

  “My office, say, Wednesday evening? I’ll be tied up rather late. Do you mind if we meet after dinner? Say, nine?”

  “Perfect.” Gerber could barely contain his excitement.

  “We will expect all parties to sign a nondisclosure agreement regarding the details of our meeting.”

  “Absolutely!” Gerber could not be more pleased with the prospect of carrying on with his current lifestyle.

  “Fine. I look forward to it. Thank you.” Before she hung up, she gave him her address, then made a note to check her office audio equipment so she could record any incriminating information they would put forth.

  Max answered his private line with a grunt. “Yeah.”

  “Remember that miracle we were hoping for?” Spencer’s voice was bubbly.

 

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