“Good to see everyone,” Myra announced. “As some of you are aware, there has been some evidence of foul play down south and southwest. Lizzie, can you bring everyone up to speed?”
“Certainly.” Lizzie began to explain who Theresa was and her reason for the trip to Arizona. Everyone listened intently as she described the personnel Theresa interacted with, the ring, a mysterious woman, and the presumed death of her estranged aunt. She went on to describe the bizarre eyewitness account of the head nurse assisting someone transfer something or someone on a stretcher in the middle of the night.
Fergus chimed in, “We checked the Maricopa County Coroner’s Office, and as of an hour ago, there is no death certificate for Dorothy or Dottie Carpenter. There is, however, one that was signed by a Doctor Grodski for a woman named Helen Discher, age eighty.”
Lizzie also described the hit-and-run after Theresa questioned the head nurse about a woman in a wheelchair. “Theresa claims the woman bore a family resemblance and was wearing the deco ring.” Lizzie pulled up the fuzzy photos Theresa sent her.
Kathryn was the first to speak. “From what I can see, as blurry as it is, the woman in the wheelchair is, in fact, Theresa’s aunt.”
Heads were nodding in the monitors. Izzie was next. “Why do you suppose they are carrying on the charade?”
“That’s what we have to find out,” Annie answered.
Charles explained the many, many layers of incorporations and several offshore accounts. “We did discover that Sunnydale is the recipient of Medicaid funds and government grants.”
“One thing the government cannot hide is where the money goes. It has to be registered. The issue is we can find the beginning of the thread, but not the end of it,” Fergus said, acknowledging the brick wall they’d been hitting. “But rest assured, we shall find those bounders.” All the women clapped and hooted.
Annie leaned into the monitor, where Maggie’s face was shining through. She squinted to get a glimpse of the sideboard that was behind her. “I cannot believe you haven’t touched the basket of snacks.”
Maggie slowly slid down below the camera level.
“Maggie? Oh, Magggee?” Annie called, as if she were beckoning one of the puppies.
A bunch of red curls began to emerge, followed by a small trash basket filled with empty bags from chips, cookies, brownies, and cheese doodles. She raised one hand in front of the camera. It was covered in orange dust.
“Didn’t you just have dinner?” Annie asked with amazement.
“Yes! I was just cleaning up!” Maggie mumbled an excuse.
“Where does she put it?” Izzie asked. “I have to run five miles a day to burn off water! It’s disgusting.” She folded her arms and feigned annoyance.
“I can’t help it if I have an overactive metabolism!” Maggie defended her voracious appetite.
“It’s what your appetitecravesthat makes me want to fall into a diabetic coma,” Izzie joked. “I’ll take one of Charles’s fabulous dinners over a pile of popcorn.”
“Bravo! Who wouldn’t?” Lizzie said with gusto. “That was a wonderful dinner, Charles.”
“Dinner? Without us?” Maggie whined.
“Let’s focus, girls.” Myra had to rein in everyone. “Annie, do you want to go down the list so far?”
Annie began, “This is what we know. Sunnydale is an exclusive retirement community setting with two locations: one in Tempe, Arizona; the other in Pensacola, Florida. Theresa Gallagher went to see an estranged aunt in Tempe. More details about her encounter to follow. Jeremy Sykes was the pharmacist at Sunnydale in Pensacola, Florida. In the past week, Gallagher and Sykes were both run off the road by dump trucks in two different states. Both had an association with Sunnydale.” Annie continued with the information about morphine found in Jeremy’s car.
Maggie added, “I met the guy. Briefly. But there was something in his eyes. I can’t explain it, but he said he didn’t do it, and I tend to believe him.”
“We first have to think about why he would lie,” Fergus, former head of Scotland Yard, proposed the question. “The obvious answer is that he is simply denying any wrongdoing.”
“But why tell me?” Maggie asked.
“Perhaps he thought you could help him. That would be a logical answer,” Charles added.
“He didn’t ask me to help him. He simply said that he didn’t take it.” Maggie tapped her pen on the desk. “It was unsolicited. I hadn’t even asked him. I think he was looking for someone to tell, who might believe him. There also didn’t seem to be any family members around. Except for me. I posed as his cousin when I went to the hospital. They said that only family members could visit. And for only fifteen minutes. Probably because he’s chained to his bed.”
Lizzie was the next to speak. “Nikki, do you think you can find someone to represent Jeremy if this goes to trial? I have a big caseload. Election season.”
“I’ll look into it,” Nikki offered. “I have a number of colleagues who have a license to practice in Florida or are part of a Florida firm.”
“Great.” Annie jotted it down. “Maggie is heading to Arizona tomorrow after she meets with Jeremy again. When she gets to Arizona, she’ll get together with Theresa at her hotel. After that, she’ll go to the police station and coax them into giving her a copy of the accident report. Once she’s finished there, she’ll fly back to Florida to continue working on Jeremy.”
