Killerwatt

  Rhetta could tell from the return of his sense of humor that Randolph was feeling better.

  “I don’t know about steak, but you can order from the limited menu.” Kenneth pointed to the plastic meal card on the bedside table. “You need to build up your strength.”

  Kenneth returned to the computer, keyed in some data, then turned it off. Even craning her neck, Rhetta was too near-sighted without her glasses to decipher what he’d typed.

  Kenneth’s sunken eyes gazed from Rhetta to Randolph.

  “All in all, the surgery went well, and you’ve been recovering as you should.” He held up a hand, stopping Rhetta before she could speak. She’d started to sputter in protest. “The setback of the barbiturates wasn’t great. You should be well enough to move to the regular unit today. No one prescribed those drugs, Randolph, and there is no record of who administered them,” he continued, focusing on Randolph. He ignored Rhetta. “This is an unfortunate hospital error. We’re investigating and will get to the bottom of this.”

  Rhetta wasn’t to be ignored. She grabbed Kenneth’s arm. “This was meant to be more than a setback, and you damn well know it.” Kenneth flinched slightly. He stared pointedly at her hand. She removed it.

  Kenneth finger combed his grey-tinged hair. “I don’t believe anything of the sort.” His direct stare pierced her gaze. “There was a mistake made, and we will find out who made it.” He strode to the door, hesitated, and turned around. “Rhetta, I know you think someone tampered with the blood alcohol test, and that there is someone after Randolph. You’re working too hard, and I believe you’re under too much stress. You’re acting paranoid.”

  He turned to the door, pushed it open, then marched out. The door glided silently shut.

  “Paranoid? I’ll show him paranoid.” She stomped her foot.

  CHAPTER 29

  “What the heck was that all about?” Woody said, leaving his position near the window to come to Randolph’s bedside. His gaze shot from Rhetta to Randolph.

  “Damn if I know what’s going on with Kenneth,” Rhetta said, recovering from the doctor’s sharp comment.

  Randolph said nothing, merely closed his eyes, and lay back against the pillow.

  Crooking his finger at Rhetta to follow him, Woody edged back toward the window.

  “I haven’t told Randolph about Peter LaRose yet,” he whispered. Rhetta’s stomach fluttered. She wasn’t sure she could hold up telling Randolph right now. She nodded to Woody, and then sidled back to Randolph. She grasped one of his hands with hers. With her free hand, she tugged the nearby chair closer to the bed. She sank into it.

  “I love you,” she said, covering Randolph’s hand with both of hers.

  He winced. “I love you too.”

  Rhetta took a deep breath. There was no easy way to break the news, except to tell it like it was. Randolph was a strong man.

  “I have bad news. Peter La Rose is dead.” She exhaled.

  Randolph merely blinked. Did he hear me?

  “And I was the one who found him in his apartment yesterday afternoon.”

  Randolph gripped her hand. His strength surprised her. He whispered, “What happened?”

  She patted his hand, then left his bed and went to the bathroom in search of water—for herself this time. She splashed water on her face and dabbed it dry with paper towels. When she returned, she perched on the side of the bed.

  She told him everything that had happened.

  When she finished, Randolph frowned. “Do you know how Peter died?”

  “No. The coroner said there would be an autopsy. I know I sure couldn’t tell anything. I didn’t stay in the bedroom very long and I sure didn’t want to examine him. There’s the matter of messing up a crime scene. That is, if it’s a crime scene.”

  Randolph pushed a button on the panel of his bed, making the head of the bed rise slowly.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, after he squirmed into a more comfortable position.

  “Yes, but I gotta tell you, I’m still feeling queasy. That was almost as bad as seeing you with a bolt sticking out of your head.” She took in a deep breath. “Sweets, if you’re up to it, we need to talk about that damn schematic. I have to know what Billy Dan told you. Did he know what all the markings signified?” Rhetta reached behind her husband and plumped his pillows.

  “Can you get me some ice?” Randolph licked his lips then swallowed. “My throat is still sore.” Rhetta located the pitcher and poured some of the melting ice and water into the plastic cup, and held it for him. He slurped the icy mixture. Nodding at her when he was satisfied, she set the tumbler on the tray near the bed and waited.

  He leaned back against the pillows. Slowly, he related everything that he and Billy Dan had discussed.

  After he finished, Rhetta asked, “A cascading power failure occurs when too many substations go out at the same time?”

  “Billy Dan said if that happens in a concentrated area, then the power can’t be taken up by any other station, and the grid could go down and maybe cause the entire Midwest grid to fail.” Randolph closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and stared at her earnestly. “If the Midwest grid should fail, then the other grids could also start to fail and soon, the entire country could be without power.” He sighed and closed his eyes, his brow furrowed as though in pain.

  “So…what you’re telling me is that with the Midwest grid down, it could be lights out everywhere?”

  She turned to Woody. “Think about what the ramifications of that would be, besides the immediately obvious. Should there be a national blackout, then our entire monetary system, national security systems, satellites, telephones, cell phones, all communication….” She trailed off. “Everything crashes.”

  Woody just stared back at her silently.

  She didn’t wait for Woody’s opinion. She turned back to Randolph, her voice cracking. “Could that be what they’re up to, Randolph?” She stood, not waiting for her husband to answer. “The sons-of-bitches are going to take us without even firing a shot.” She left the bed and began pacing. “What can we do?”She snatched her purse and began searching for her phone. “I need to call Billy Dan.”

  Randolph touched her arm. “And the FBI.”

  “Sure, the FBI. Why not? They were so helpful this morning.” She told him about her earlier call.

  “You need to call them again. This is urgent.”

  “Of course, you’re right. I’ll call them. She rose to leave with the phone clutched in her hand when the door opened, and Doctor Marinthe appeared. She slid the phone back into her bag.

  “Good morning, Mrs. McCarter,” he said, making his way slowly, his limp more pronounced this morning. Turning to Randolph, he said, “Good morning, Mr. McCarter,” and continued toward Rhetta.

  Clearly, he was not here to see Randolph.

  “Doctor Marinthe, it’s good to see you,” Rhetta said and plopped into the chair she’d just vacated. Stopping beside her, he turned to face both her and Randolph.

  “I have some news.” He leveled his brilliant blue eyes at her.

  CHAPTER 30

  I tracked down who administered the barbiturates. It was a second-year intern, and we are in the process of questioning him about it.”

  Marinthe withdrew a small sheaf of papers from his pocket, examined the top page, and continued. “I have also located the technician who withdrew Mr. McCarter’s blood sample when he was in the emergency room. We are trying to solve the riddle of how the blood sample was pulled.” He replaced the papers into his pocket. “All I can tell you at this point is that we are questioning two people about what happened to your husband. I will tell you more when I know more.”

  When Rhetta started to thank him, he held up a hand to stop her. “Please understand that I don’t want you to say or do anything at this point. I am telling you this, perhaps prematurely, since the investigation isn’t yet completed, so that you won’t worry about leaving your husband in our care without
bringing someone else to watch over him.” He glanced sideways at Woody while he spoke. Woody returned his gaze.

  “You do realize, Doctor Marinthe, that my husband is facing a DUI as a result of that blood test?”

  “I do. That’s why I am investigating this along with the barbiturates.” He handed her his card. “Please call me if you have any more concerns.”

  Rhetta nodded and tucked the card into her purse as the slightly built French doctor walked to the door, his left leg dragging slightly.

  Woody let out a low whistle. “What do you suppose he thinks is going on?”

  “I don’t know, but for some inexplicable reason, I trust Doctor Marinthe.”

  Randolph said, “What’s going on, Rhetta? What’s that about the blood test?”

  Rhetta hadn’t told Randolph about the need to use an iodine scrub to pull blood for a blood alcohol level test. When she told him, Randolph examined his own arms.

  “No trace of iodine,” he said and met his wife’s gaze.

  “Right.” She peered at Woody, who sauntered over to peer over her shoulder at Randolph’s arms.

  “Look, guys,” Rhetta said, glancing from Randolph to Woody, “the court will use the test they pulled. However, if we can prove they took it incorrectly, then the test should be thrown out, and there goes any proof that Randolph was drinking.”

  Woody inspected his shoes, then examined his fingernails. He looked everywhere but at Randolph.

  “I wasn’t drunk, Woody,” Randolph said.

  Woody glanced up. “Sure. I know.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

  Randolph sighed and reached for Rhetta’s hand. She wrapped both of hers around his.

  “Woody doesn’t believe me,” Randolph said to Rhetta.

  “I…it’s just that, you know, it’s hard to believe that in a hospital somebody messed up these tests, but I believe you,” Woody said. He began pacing and repeated, “I do believe you. Especially now, after this incident with the barbiturates. I guess anything can go wrong anywhere, including at a hospital.”

  Rhetta stretched across the side of the bed and planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

  “I’m going outside to call Billy Dan. I’ll be back soon.”

  Woody gathered up the wrappers from his breakfast and deposited it all into the trashcan. “I’m going to head to the house. Jenn’s mom and brother, and his new wife are coming by today for a cookout. I need to get home, and get stuff ready.”

  “Thanks for coming here, Woody,” Randolph said, extending his hand. Woody shook it, gave a little wave over his shoulder and left.

  Randolph said to Rhetta, “Babe, can you change it back to Court TV?” before lying back on the pillow and closing his eyes.

  * * *

  Rhetta found Billy Dan’s landline number in her contacts list and dialed. She counted eighteen rings without an answer or an answering machine. She disconnected. The time on her iPhone read 10:35. She’d call him back at noon.

  * * *

  The rattle of the food trays coming down the hall ended Randolph’s nap. He appeared delighted to discover real food on his meal tray, even if it consisted of fruit Jell-O and soup. Rhetta had to smile. He was not normally a fan of Jell-O.

  She fluffed pillows and adjusted Randolph’s bed upward, which made it easier for him to eat. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened since I found the schematic, including your accident, is all coincidence. Especially, Peter’s death.” Rhetta shuddered, recalling the image of Peter lying dead on the floor of his apartment.

  They were interrupted by the booming voice of an overweight man in an ill-fitting suit, shuffling uninvited into the room. “How are you feeling, Judge McCarter?” the man said and stopped by the bed. Randolph made no effort to accept the business card the man held out. “I just want you to know I’m available to help you with your little, ah, problem, Judge.” The unkempt man with hair overdue for an oil change dropped the card on the nearby tray table, then produced an oversized handkerchief and mopped his sweaty face.

  “Albert Claymore. My wife, Rhetta.” Randolph nodded toward Rhetta.

  “Pleased, I’m sure, ma’am,” answered the unkempt man, whose foul body odor permeated the room. He offered her a stubby hand with ragged fingernails. Rhetta glanced at her husband, then back at Claymore. She accepted his handshake but quickly removed her hand, fighting an urge to run to the bathroom and scrub up.

  “I won’t need your services, Albert. Have a nice day.”

  “If you change your mind….” The grubby man lumbered to the door.

  As soon as the hulk cleared the doorway, Randolph said, “Not even if hell freezes over.”

  “Who in God’s name is that creature?” Rhetta called from the bathroom as she washed her hands.

  “That’s the one and only Albert Claymore, attorney at law,” Randolph answered.

  “Did he want you to hire him?” Rhetta returned to Randolph’s bed, where she picked up the card by its edge and examined it.

  Randolph said, “He’s an ambulance chaser. From what I know, he specializes in representing drunk drivers. He checks the hospital records daily to see who’s been admitted with a possible DUI.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Rhetta said, pumping a generous dollop of antibacterial gel into her hands from the dispenser on the bedside table. She massaged her hands vigorously.

  “I wouldn’t hire him if he were the last attorney in the county, or on the planet, for that matter,” said Randolph and reached for the ramekin of fruit-flavored gelatin cubes.

  Rhetta whispered, even though no one else was in the room. “I’m worried about Billy Dan. I can’t reach him.”

  Randolph grimaced before he swallowed a bite of the red gelatin. “Billy Dan gets up at the crack of dawn. He’s probably already had coffee and breakfast in town and is out fishing on that big lake of his.” Billy Dan’s house nestled deep in the woods, within casting distance of a well-established fifteen-acre lake built fifty years earlier. It brimmed with bass, channel catfish, bluegill, and crappie.

  “His voicemail doesn’t even pick up.” Rhetta reached for her phone, peered down the hall to be sure no one was approaching, then speed-dialed Billy Dan’s number again.

  When he still didn’t answer, Rhetta opened the drawer on the bedside table and rummaged around until she found what she wanted. She thumbed through the phone directory and found the number for Merc’s Diner. She couldn’t help feeling uneasy about not reaching Billy Dan. With everything that had happened to Randolph, she hadn’t called Billy Dan earlier. Now she chided herself for not calling him. Billy Dan saw the schematic and was with Randolph just before the accident. Her gut told her Billy Dan could be in danger, too.

  Again making sure no staff was approaching, since she’d been clearly informed by Nurse Ratched not to use her cell phone in the room, she dialed Merc’s.

  A woman answered. “Merc’s Diner, this is Krista.” Typical kitchen sounds filled the background. “Can I help you?”

  Rhetta spoke up louder, so that Krista would hear her over the restaurant noise. “This is Rhetta McCarter, and I need to reach Billy Dan Kercheval. Is he there?”

  “No, ma’am, he’s not here. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen Billy Dan all morning,” said Krista. “Do you have his cell number?”

  “No, I don’t,” Rhetta answered, fumbling for a pen and slip of paper. She located a pencil and notepad in the drawer. She scribbled the number the girl rattled off and repeated it before hanging up.

  Once disconnected from Merc’s, Rhetta tapped in the number for Billy Dan’s cell. This time, the call went straight to voice mail. She left her name and number and asked Billy Dan to call back right away.

  Rhetta frowned, and Randolph spoke before she could say anything. “It’s not like Billy Dan not to be at Merc’s first thing in the morning. That worries me.”

  “Why don’t I go out there?” Rhetta said, already gathering up her purse.


  Randolph agreed. “You should do that. I’ll be fine. I need a nap anyway after that big meal.” He jutted his chin toward the empty Jell-O dish.

  She glanced up. The clock above the door said 1:15.

  Remembering the schematic and the misfortune that befell everyone who had seen it made Rhetta’s stomach flutter. She urgently needed to know if Billy Dan was all right. Before reaching the door, she stopped. “I turn left at County Road 1140, don’t I?”

  In the last couple of years, she and Randolph had been out to Billy Dan’s fishing several times. Although she was sure she knew the way, she occasionally mixed up County Road numbers. She wanted to be sure she had the correct route in mind before heading out. Her Google map wouldn’t help her much unless she knew the road number. Rural Bollinger County addresses didn’t appear on her iPhone map.

  Randolph nodded. “Yes, that’s his road number.” He reached for her hand. “I love you. Be very careful.”

  Rhetta grasped his hand, and leaned in to place a kiss on his still-swollen cheek. “I’ll call you when I know Billy Dan is okay.”

  Randolph caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. She turned his hand over and kissed his palm. “I love you, too.” She swept out before Randolph could notice the extra moisture in her eyes.

  CHAPTER 31

  A brisk wind blew as Rhetta pushed the revolving door leading out to the parking lot. Leaves from the nearby trees fluttered to the sidewalk and swirled with the dust devils. From all appearances, a summer thunderstorm was marching in.

  Rhetta emerged from under the emergency room porte-cochère to fat, cold raindrops smacking her in the face. She broke into a run, reaching the covered parking garage just as a torrent of rain descended. By the time she reached her car, she was drenched.

  She grabbed more baby wipes for the second time that day and wiped off the splashes. She turned up her nose at the lingering baby powder smell. “I’ll have to treat these seats with Armor All.” After their hard work replacing the interior in Cami, she didn’t want to suffer stains on the immaculate upholstery.

  While the car idled, she snatched her phone and scrolled to the weather application. She hadn’t recalled any rain in the forecast. Then she realized that she hadn’t even heard a weather forecast for several days. Sure enough, AccuWeather displayed little lightning streaks indicating severe thunderstorms for the afternoon. It also predicted a clearing by early evening.