Deer Season (28 page)

“I’ll get the scene photographed, do some evidence collecting, and stay here till the ME is finished and the body is removed,” said Sue. She looked at Ben, “I think our friend Ray should be given a ride back to town. I don’t think this quite fits the description for limited activities.”

“I’m all right,” said Ray, but now that the adrenalin was wearing off he felt exhausted and his leg throbbed. He wasn’t looking forward to tramping back to the dock in snowshoes.

Hours later, after returning to his office and fortifying himself with coffee and some sandwiches he and Ben had picked up on the way back, Ray sat at his keyboard and sketched out the major elements of the afternoon’s events. He called the medical center to check on Mendicot and Boyd. Hanna Jeffers, the surgeon who had saved Lynne Boyd’s life, came on the line. She explained that Boyd had been admitted for observation and that Mendicot was in critical condition, but expected to live. Her tone was brisk, there was little elaboration, and then she was gone. No time for questions.

48
By the time Ben Reilly dropped him off at his house, Ray was completely exhausted. In fact, they had made the ride in almost complete silence, both men physically and emotionally drained by the events on Round Island.

“Quite a day,” said Ben as he stopped near Ray’s front entrance.

“Yes,” said Ray as he swung the door open. “Thanks for the ride.”

When he got into the house, he put a kettle of water on for tea and collapsed into his favorite chair. Rubbing the skin on his face, Ray noticed for the first time the effects of the wind, snow, and icy spray. He yawned and closed his eyes, waking suddenly when he was gently shaken.

“Ray, what kind of tea do you want?”

He didn’t answer immediately. It took him several seconds to come back from deep sleep. Finally he said, “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. And lucky I did. Your tea kettle was running low on water.”

Ray pulled himself to his feet and joined Sarah at the counter.

“Remember, I was going to come by and see you when I got home.”

Ray stood there trying to remember. It had been only a few days since he had last seen Sarah, but somehow it seemed like weeks had gone by.

“You didn’t respond to my e-mails,” said Sarah. “But as I look at you, I can see you’ve had some very difficult days.”

“It has been an interesting time,” Ray responded.

“How about chamomile, ginger, and mint,” she asked, holding three tea bags in her hand. When she didn’t get an immediate answer, she dropped the three bags in a brown, china teapot and poured in the steaming water. “Interesting time, you say. Like the fabled curse?”

“Yes, exactly” Ray responded. “And how was New York?” he asked, wanting to hear about Sarah’s trip, rather than talk about the last few days.

“It was good. Not quite what I had expected, but good.”

“Not what you expected? How so?”

“Well, when Eric asked me to come out for Thanksgiving, it was like the two of us were going to spend a couple of days doing the town.”

“Well, didn’t you?”

“We did. But what he hadn’t told me is there’s this other person now, a girl, Lori—this smart, sweet, beautiful young woman. I was feeling like the fifth wheel. They were doing their best to be gracious hosts, but they are just totally in love. They can’t keep their eyes off one another; they were always reaching out to touch. And I was staying in his apartment, and you know how small New York apartments are. One look around and it was clear she’s been living there. She obviously moved out for my visit.

“So how do you feel, Mom?”

“Well, good doctor, why didn’t Erik Erikson write about this? Perhaps we need a book on the stages of motherhood, one of the later ones being Mom as baggage.”

“I still don’t know how you’re feeling?”

“I just know things have changed, and I did enjoy seeing the two of them so happy. It’s one of those special moments in life. I hope it lasts a long time.” She looked over at Ray. “So I’m rattling on. And as I look at you, I feel guilty because you’ve been obviously dealing with some very difficult things.”

“I’m tired and a bit dispirited, but I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“A lot has happened in a few days. I haven’t had a chance to really process it yet. And I’m happy that you’re here.”

“My kid,” said Sarah, “I didn’t tell him about us. I’m not sure how he’d deal with it. For so many years the two of us were sort of a couple. Funny, isn’t it. He and I are both dealing with the same thing. We have to separate so we can establish other relationships. Perfectly natural, but it just seems strange.”

Ray didn’t respond immediately, and then asked, “Do you think the kid would approve of your seeing me?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “He has an innate sense of people. He would like you.” She paused for a long moment. “But he probably wouldn’t be comfortable with the fact that I might be sleeping with you. I am his mother, you know.”

“Does this mean you’re spending the night?”

“Only if you promise to get me up at six. I have to be back at the office by 8:00 when classes begin.”

“Fortunately, I’m an early riser,” said Ray.

“And if you weren’t?”

“I’d set an alarm,” he replied, taking her into his arms.

49
Ray actually met surgeon Hanna Jeffers in person for the first time the next morning outside the medical center’s intensive care unit. “Sheriff Elkins, right?” she asked, holding out her right hand.

Ray took her hand and introduced her to Sue Lawrence. He looked at Jeffers closely as the two women shook hands. Jeffers was a tiny woman with a shock of wild, curly black hair—her movements and voice displayed energy and intelligence. He could see that the young physician and Sue had almost instant rapport.

Turning toward Ray, she said in a playfully sarcastic tone. “When I left the war zone, a friend enticed me to come up here. He said it was a paradise.” She paused briefly, and then continued, lifting her eyebrows, “Given the carnage I’ve seen in the last few days, if it weren’t for the snow, I might think I was back in Baghdad.”

“This is quite anomalous,” Ray replied. “How’s the patient?” “Which one?”

“Mendicot, for starters.”

“I’m surprised we were able to salvage him. He had lost so much blood.” Then she added, “That was a nice trick with the bungee cord and flashlight. I’ve never seen a windlass made with a mini Maglite. It did the job.”

“You use what you’ve got,” Ray said. “Can you tell us about the injury?”

“There was a lot of tissue destruction. We were able to quickly tie off the major arteries and get some blood in him. The bullet hit the femur straight on right above the knee. The bone is shattered. I don’t know what the orthopedists will be able to do. But there’s another problem we have to deal with that complicates everything.”

“What’s that?”

“The guy is a walking pharmacy. He’s coming down from long-term alcohol and drug abuse. And, of course, now we’re pumping him full of morphine. But what can you do, he’s in enormous pain.”

“So there was only one wound?”

“Yes, one wound, but he was hit a second time. And if he hadn’t been wearing plated body armor, that one would have been fatal. He’s got a big hematoma mid-sternum; the body armor saved his life.”

“Is he awake?”

“He’s pretty doped up and not making much sense.

“How about Boyd?”

“He’s an interesting case; he has a long history of coronary artery disease. When he was admitted last evening, he was displaying the symptoms of unstable angina.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Ray asked.

“He has a very damaged heart. Each one of these episodes brings further deterioration. If you’re asking about his long term prognosis….”

“Yes,” said Ray.

“Not very good. A year to two, probably at best. He wants to go to Cleveland Clinic. From a medical point of view, I think that’s a good idea. He’s been seeing a cardiologist there for years. I don’t know what legal problems he has, but he must be expecting you; his lawyer is already with him.”

“So we can talk to him?”

“You can put in an appearance, but nothing more. I don’t want him agitated for any reason. And I will be in the room with you, ready to run you out if necessary.”

“When can we interview him?” Ray asked.

“When I think he’s medically stable,” she responded. Jeffers led the way through two sets of automated double doors into the ICU. A nursing station with scores of monitors was in the center of the room, a dozen or more women and men—clad in blue scrubs with boots and hats—were looking at screens, writing reports, or scurrying in and out of the individual patient rooms circled on the perimeter.

Prescott Boyd, looking far frailer than when Ray had last seen him the day before, was propped up in a hospital bed. High above his shoulder tracings in different colors marched across a video screen, with digital readouts for each tracing in the same color glowing on the right side of the screen. An IV tube ran from his left arm to a bag suspended above the bed. Oxygen was being administered through a nose tube.

Dorothy Boyd was on the right side of the bed, and Harry Hawkins stood at the left side. Their attention shifted from Prescott to the visitors.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” Dorothy Boyd said, holding Ray in her vision.

Before Ray could respond, Dr. Jeffers quickly said, “The sheriff and Ms. Lawrence will only be here for a few minutes, and then they are moving on.”

“Good morning,” said Ray, catching the three of them with his eyes. He and Sue stood at the foot of the bed for a long, clumsy moment. “It looks like you’re in the best of hands,” said Ray, looking at Boyd.

“The people here have been wonderful,” said Dorothy.

“Good,” said Ray. “We’ll be on our way.”

He and Sue slipped out of the room headed toward the double steel doors. They were already into a main corridor when Harry Hawkins caught up with them.

“Sheriff, could I have a word?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Perhaps we could talk over coffee.”

Ray agreed and the three of them took the elevator down to the ground floor and walked to the cafeteria. After getting coffee, they settled at a table in an unoccupied corner of the room.

“Mrs. Boyd would like to move her husband to Cleveland Clinic as soon as Dr. Jeffers thinks he’s up for the trip. Lynne is going to be moved, also; perhaps they could go in the same plane. Would you have any objections?”

“Mr. Hawkins, it’s not whether I have objections. I haven’t had an opportunity to discuss this case with the prosecutor yet. It’s really his call.”

“But given Mr. Boyd’s condition and…”

“I will present the case to him, including a recommendation from Dr. Jeffers. And, of course, you can represent your client’s situation to him yourself. The prosecutor likes to review all available information before he makes a decision. But like I said, I will get the process started at our end. Now I’ve got some questions for you.”

“Yes,” responded Hawkins, his tone becoming very guarded.

“When you reached me on the cell phone yesterday, you said you had overheard Mr. Boyd on the phone, and he was having an argument with Dirk Lowther. Is that correct?”

“That’s what he told me. I really have no way of knowing with whom he was speaking.”

“Would Mr. Boyd have any reason to lie to you?”

“Well, no, but you know how complex we humans tend to be. All of us fall into bits of prevarication from time to time either through memory lapses or….”

“Let me ask you again. Would Mr. Boyd have any reason to lie to you about who was on the phone?”

Hawkins considered his answer for a long moment. “I do not believe he would.”

“In the course of your relationship with him, has he been truthful?”

“I never knew him to be dishonest with me.”

“Has he ever shared his feelings with you about his son-inlaw, Dirk Lowther.”

“After Lynne was shot, he indicated that he thought Dirk was either the shooter, or behind it.”

“Before that, did he ever discuss Dirk with you.”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Do you know whether Dirk might have been on the payroll of Magnus Conservus?” Ray asked.

“I don’t think so,” Hawkins responded, his answer tentative.

“You don’t know or….”

“Well, first it’s never come to my attention, and I’ve only been working with Magnus Conservus for about a year. Their HR department handles all employment matters. I know over the years Boyd has run several other corporations, and he has deep roots up here. It’s possible that Boyd might have employed Dirk along the way.”

“I was a bit surprised when you called me yesterday. In our last conversation you suggested that Magnus Conservus took care of the security needs of its customers.”

“Yes, they do that. And in many parts of the world where they operate, civil authority is either incompetent or almost nonexistent. Obviously, that isn’t the case here.” Hawkins paused and sipped his coffee; Ray and Sue made no attempt to fill the silence. “Besides, yesterday we were confronted with a situation that we were not prepared to handle.”

“Which was?”

“The simplest of things. We didn’t have another boat operational. Which…” Hawkins stopped short.

“Go ahead.”

“My job is to look after the legal matters for Magnus Conservus. My specialties are corporate and international law. Yesterday it seemed to me that things might be spinning out of control. I thought the involvement of local law enforcement was appropriate given the situation. I didn’t want any of the corporation’s employees put in legal jeopardy. I didn’t want anyone put in a position where they might end up with a felony charge.”

“So you knew he was going to meet Dirk?” asked Sue.

“I thought that was a possibility.”

“Did you try to counsel Boyd on how…?”

“I tried to talk him out of going over to the island. I reminded him of his health problems. I advised Mr. Boyd that if he had been threatened by Dirk that he should contact your office. And if Mrs. Boyd had been home, I would have told her that he was planning to go to the island. Perhaps she could have talked some sense into him. But she was here at the hospital with Lynne, and the other children weren’t around.”