When You're Expecting Something Else (23 page)

Bradley and Maggie bolted to Jared’s bedroom where Fred Thompson was helping Jared to sit up. One of the police officers immediately handcuffed Fred and led him out to join his accomplice. The other two officers went in search of Julius. They found him taking a nap in another bedroom where it appeared he had outfitted himself with all the comforts, courtesy of Jared’s credit cards.

“We got you Jared. You’re going to be okay now,” Bradley said. Maggie wiped tears and touched Jared’s good shoulder.
 
“We’re going to take you to Pacific West Hospital now, Jared. We’ll get you the treatment you need.”

Jared attempted to smile, a lopsided grin, as if his mouth was trying to catch up with his brain. Using his good hand he reached under his cast to the secret pouch he’d created. “A little proof,” he said, handing a wadded mess of discarded pain pills to Maggie. “Poof they were drugging me. The prescription bottles, vials, and needles are on the dresser there, and in the top drawer,” he said, pointing.

The paramedics carefully moved him onto the gurney and prepared him for transport.

*****

I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Dr. Matthews is telling me that Jared’s been rescued by Palo Alto policemen, along with the help of Maggie and Bradley Lawton. He’d been held hostage in his own home by Marta and the others. How crazy is all that? The use of the word hostage tells me how serious it’s been. He’s in ER now awaiting some test results before being admitted to Medical-Five for treatment. Dr. Matthews is his attending physician again. I’m his admissions nurse. Just as I finish taking report, I see Maggie, Bradley and two police officers step off the elevator in front of the Nurses Station.

One of the policemen motions that he wants to talk with me, so I ring for Regina and ask if I can take a short break. Oddly, I feel like I’m in trouble. I take them to a quiet conference room near Medical-Five where the five of us sit at a round table.

“Marta Leswki has implicated you in her plan,” the blue uniformed officer says. Maggie and Bradley look at me with disappointment.

“How? What did I do?” I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.

“Did you break into Jared’s house, kidnap his cat, and case the rooms?” the officer asks.

I have to think before I answer because I did sneak into Jared’s house, take his cat, and go through his desk. “I had keys,” is all I can think
 
of to say. “I found Jared’s address book and found his grandfather’s name. I just wanted to help Jared notify his loved ones about the accident.” Tears are threatening to overflow my eyes. The realization that my snooping started this whole mess for Jared scares me beyond comprehension. I had no idea the chain of events I set in motion when I called San Francisco Geriatric Center that day and talked to Cassandra Turner.

“The pieces of the puzzle are all coming together now,” Bradley says. He sounds so angry.

“No, Bradley, you’ve got it wrong,” Maggie says gently. “Connie’s not in cahoots with them. Not at all, they’re just trying to victimize her along with Jared. You’re not with them, are you, Connie?”

I shake my head, the motion setting loose the barrage of tears I’ve been trying to hold back. “I really just wanted to help. The police office gave me Jared’s keys by mistake. I just wanted to help.”

“I need you to come to the police station with me,” one officer says. I go to find Regina, and then to tell the department manager that I have to leave in the middle of my shift. I’m sniffling and fighting a watershed of tears. I know the manager thinks I’m a criminal because the two policemen position me between then when we leave. Thank God they don’t handcuff me.

Chapter Twenty-five

FBI Special Agent John Rusk introduced Stan Miller to Special Agent Zachery Hack. They were meeting together in Rusk’s crowded office.

“I have all my findings compiled in one very large report,” Stan said, slapping the large red folder onto the messy desk with a thump. “I even printed it out hard copy for you, but here’s the thumb drive, too. You want to look at how San Francisco Geriatric Center has clients fill out the Medicare form, page 96. They’ve got a unique format that sets them up right from their first encounter with a potential client.”

Hack leafed through the pile of neatly printed pages until he found the one Stan directed him to. “Good job, you got it all right here!” Hack jumped from his chair sending it wheeling behind him.

“There’s more,” Stan said. “A few of the employees from San Francisco Geriatric Center have gotten themselves in trouble by involving themselves with home healthcare ventures. They got a big illegitimate involvement in Palo Alto with a patient named Jared Wise. Look at pages 137 though 150. It’s all spelled out. You’ll see the link.”

Hack sat back down, his mouth hanging open in a big, surprised circle, his head slanted with a quizzical glance towards Stan Miller. He read slowly, swinging his head from side to side, an occasional look thrown at the investigative reporter who’d just handed him proof enough for a sweeping bust that reached beyond California all way the to Polish gangsters involved in computer scams.

“Palo Alto PD is already involved with their end of it,” Special Agent John Rusk offered. “Stan’s been working with me on the Medicare fraud for almost a year now. This piece from San Francisco Geriatric Center ties it all together.”

“Excuse me a minute,” Hack said picking up the phone. He placed a call to Palo Alto PD asking for a status update. “Palo Alto PD has the rest of it,” he said when done. “They’ve got Lewski, Thompson, Fenway, and someone named Connie Harrison in custody, questioning them right now. But you’re coming with us. You want to the newspaper scoop for tomorrow’s paper along with your bestseller book? We’re set up for the sweep at San Francisco Geriatric Center right now.”

“Wait a minute, did you say Connie Harrison was in custody, too? What the hell for? She’s not inside with them, not in the slightest.” Stan bit his tongue to keep himself from blurting out that Connie Harrison was his girlfriend. Then, he ran to keep up with Rusk and Hack and several other special agents already heading for their vehicles.

A caravan of vans traveled Highway 101 from San Jose to San Francisco. Stan Miller rode along with Zack and two other special agents. “We’re going after all the administrative records, that’s why the van power. San Francisco agents will join us there. We want Cassandra Turner and Kaitleen Logan for questioning. According to PAPD, they’re working with Marta Lewski, Julius Fenway, and Fred Thompson. To answer your question, I’m not sure how Connie Harrison fits into it all. They think she might have been their front runner to gain access into the Wise house,” Hack said.

“No,” Stan said. “I know her. She’s a nurse, new the area, and was in the accident with Jared Wise, that’s all. She got into the house to help find out who his relatives were to notify them. That’s how she learned about the grandfather being a resident at the geriatric center.”

“Sounds like a valid link to me,” Hack said, quietly. “You sleeping with her?”

“None of your business! She’s my girlfriend, and she’s not involved,” Stan snapped. Whatever it took, he resolved he’d be there to help her prove it. In that instant he knew that Connie, with her love of nature and good-hearted spirit, had burrowed her way deeply into his heart. He intended to keep her there, damn it. Come hell or high water.

Forty-five minutes later, the four vans pulled up close to the ivy-cloaked hospital where Cassandra Turner sat as the gatekeeper. Stan saw the recognition in her eyes when he walked in. She stood to greet him until the four suits entered behind him. Recognizing the look of impending disaster, she immediately picked up the phone to warn Kaitleen.

“Put the phone down,” Zachery Hack instructed. Then he read the charges leveled against her, handcuffed her, and handed her over to another agent who took her outside to the designated arrest vehicle. Kaitleen Logan would be joining her next.

Several hours, four computers, and twenty boxes of documentation later and the vans were full. John Everest, the seldom seen owner of the facility had been called in for questioning and found to be naively innocent to the underworld workings of his senior center. He called in new managers from a second hospital he owned in Napa and guaranteed the continued functioning of legitimate patient care at San Francisco Geriatric Center while the federal investigation into Medicare fraud continued, promising full disclosure of all administrative communication that had gone between himself and Kaitleen Logan.

Stan Miller wrote frantically in his computer notebook as he followed the agents through their paces. His book was sure to be a hit, but the journalistic piece for tomorrow’s paper is what held his attention now. It promised to be a front-page headline in all the major papers and computer screens across the state, a great way to plug his upcoming book. His publisher was going to love it. His heart pounded in a way it hadn’t in years when he finally pushed the send button and released the finished product to the press.

Then, catching his breath from the first time in hours, he looked around the nursing home through the eyes of a casual observer. The night shift nurses went about their business of patient care dressed in colorful scrubs with stethoscopes dangling around their necks. A new receptionist from a temporary agency sat at the front desk as if it had never belonged to Cassandra Turner. A few sleepless patients wandered in the lit hallway, one with a walker, another ambulating independently but slowly wearing fluffy red slippers, another holding onto the side-bars as she walked. It was then that he thought of Jared Wise Senior and his promise to him. He wandered the hallway until he came to the room of the comatose old man.

“Hey, Mr. Wise, remember me? Well guess what? We got your grandson out of that mess he was in. He’s going to be okay now, so you can go ahead and rest assured,” he said. The old man remained silent.

By the time the special agents wrapped up their search it was nearing midnight and Stan was dead tired. On the ride back he let his thoughts wander back to Connie and her latest challenge. He’d tried calling her cell phone several times, but his calls all went to voicemail. He’d left two messages and then just gave up. More than anything, he hoped she was getting through it all without too much unrest. He knew without a doubt she was an innocent bystander who’d simply tried to do the right thing. It wouldn’t take long for the authorities to figure it out.