“I’m going to
take that original schematic that we found and lock it in my safe deposit box
at the main bank. I don’t want to leave it here.”
“ We found?” Woody peered at her over his
coffee cup. “Right,” he said, setting his cup down a little too hard. Coffee
sloshed over the side.
“Okay, okay, me. I took it. Whatever. Don’t be
making a federal case out of this.” She snatched her purse and began rummaging
through it. “Wait, maybe we should make a federal case out of this.”
“Are you calling the FBI again?” Woody sighed as he
mopped up the spill with a paper towel.
“Not yet. I need to ask Doctor Reed something.”
Snatching her phone, which she’d set on the table,
she scrolled until she found his cell number.
Reed answered before the second ring.
“Kenneth, it’s Rhetta. Randolph was sleeping so I
left for a bit. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“What can I do for you?” he answered, his words
clipped, his voice terse. I probably interrupted him in the middle of
something important.
She forged ahead, prevailing upon their friendship.
“I need your help. Everyone is convinced that Randolph was drinking. I believed
Randolph when he told me he wasn’t.” She went on to explain about the Jim Beam
bottle. “Billy Dan Kercheval backs him up, too. Randolph had just left Marble
Hill after he and Billy Dan met up at Merc’s. They drank nothing but coffee.”
She waited. When Kenneth didn’t say anything, she
persisted. “How could Randolph’s blood test that high? Could the test have been
skewed?”
When Kenneth didn’t answer for several more seconds,
Rhetta thought he must be thinking about how that could have happened, too.
She heard him sigh.
“Rhetta, a skewed test is not possible. You don’t
want to believe that Randolph was drunk. I’ll do what I can to heal him, but
talk like this will cause you nothing but trouble. I have to go now.”
The line disconnected.
She stared at the receiver. His response wasn’t what
she expected .
What’s wrong with Kenneth?
CHAPTER
17
“Kenneth doesn’t believe me.” Rhetta set her phone
down, and slid the coffee cup aside. Kenneth’s tone had killed all desire for
coffee.
Woody drained the last of his, then took both their
cups to the kitchen. On his return, he detoured toward the office safe and
withdrew the original schematic he placed there for safekeeping.
He handed it to Rhetta. “I’ll go with you. Let’s
take a lunch break.”
With that, he began penning a “Be Back Soon” note
and taped it to the front door. Then he held the door open for her.
*
* *
After
locking the schematic away in her bank safe deposit box, Rhetta drove Woody
back to the office.
“I’m going to the hospital,” she said, letting him
out in front. On the way, they’d swung through the drive-through at Subway. She
wasn’t hungry. Earlier that morning, she’d persuaded the cantankerous vending
machine on the fourth floor at the hospital to discharge a Snickers bar after
feeding it double the amount the candy cost, and kicking it a time or two.
Woody, however, claimed to be on starvation’s
doorstep. He clutched his sack containing two, foot-long Italian sandwiches and
a gallon of sweet tea, and climbed out. Stopping midway, he turned back. “Have
you heard from Doctor LaRose?”
Rhetta rested her head on the steering wheel. “I
didn’t think to call him.”
“I’ll try and reach him. You should go check on your
husband.”
“Thanks. Don’t scare Peter, yet somehow warn him not
to talk to anyone about the schematic.”
*
* *
She
made it to St. Mark’s in ten minutes. After locking Cami and remembering to
drop her phone into her purse, she strode to the visitors’ entrance—a set of
two perpetually revolving glass doors under a brick archway containing a statue
of St. Mark the Evangelist. As she stepped inside one of the doors, her iPhone
began playing Woody’s ring tone. She
take that original schematic that we found and lock it in my safe deposit box
at the main bank. I don’t want to leave it here.”
“ We found?” Woody peered at her over his
coffee cup. “Right,” he said, setting his cup down a little too hard. Coffee
sloshed over the side.
“Okay, okay, me. I took it. Whatever. Don’t be
making a federal case out of this.” She snatched her purse and began rummaging
through it. “Wait, maybe we should make a federal case out of this.”
“Are you calling the FBI again?” Woody sighed as he
mopped up the spill with a paper towel.
“Not yet. I need to ask Doctor Reed something.”
Snatching her phone, which she’d set on the table,
she scrolled until she found his cell number.
Reed answered before the second ring.
“Kenneth, it’s Rhetta. Randolph was sleeping so I
left for a bit. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“What can I do for you?” he answered, his words
clipped, his voice terse. I probably interrupted him in the middle of
something important.
She forged ahead, prevailing upon their friendship.
“I need your help. Everyone is convinced that Randolph was drinking. I believed
Randolph when he told me he wasn’t.” She went on to explain about the Jim Beam
bottle. “Billy Dan Kercheval backs him up, too. Randolph had just left Marble
Hill after he and Billy Dan met up at Merc’s. They drank nothing but coffee.”
She waited. When Kenneth didn’t say anything, she
persisted. “How could Randolph’s blood test that high? Could the test have been
skewed?”
When Kenneth didn’t answer for several more seconds,
Rhetta thought he must be thinking about how that could have happened, too.
She heard him sigh.
“Rhetta, a skewed test is not possible. You don’t
want to believe that Randolph was drunk. I’ll do what I can to heal him, but
talk like this will cause you nothing but trouble. I have to go now.”
The line disconnected.
She stared at the receiver. His response wasn’t what
she expected .
What’s wrong with Kenneth?
CHAPTER
17
“Kenneth doesn’t believe me.” Rhetta set her phone
down, and slid the coffee cup aside. Kenneth’s tone had killed all desire for
coffee.
Woody drained the last of his, then took both their
cups to the kitchen. On his return, he detoured toward the office safe and
withdrew the original schematic he placed there for safekeeping.
He handed it to Rhetta. “I’ll go with you. Let’s
take a lunch break.”
With that, he began penning a “Be Back Soon” note
and taped it to the front door. Then he held the door open for her.
*
* *
After
locking the schematic away in her bank safe deposit box, Rhetta drove Woody
back to the office.
“I’m going to the hospital,” she said, letting him
out in front. On the way, they’d swung through the drive-through at Subway. She
wasn’t hungry. Earlier that morning, she’d persuaded the cantankerous vending
machine on the fourth floor at the hospital to discharge a Snickers bar after
feeding it double the amount the candy cost, and kicking it a time or two.
Woody, however, claimed to be on starvation’s
doorstep. He clutched his sack containing two, foot-long Italian sandwiches and
a gallon of sweet tea, and climbed out. Stopping midway, he turned back. “Have
you heard from Doctor LaRose?”
Rhetta rested her head on the steering wheel. “I
didn’t think to call him.”
“I’ll try and reach him. You should go check on your
husband.”
“Thanks. Don’t scare Peter, yet somehow warn him not
to talk to anyone about the schematic.”
*
* *
She
made it to St. Mark’s in ten minutes. After locking Cami and remembering to
drop her phone into her purse, she strode to the visitors’ entrance—a set of
two perpetually revolving glass doors under a brick archway containing a statue
of St. Mark the Evangelist. As she stepped inside one of the doors, her iPhone
began playing Woody’s ring tone. She
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