The Inheritance, page 27
“Your officers arrested a man at the M building last night. Where is he now?”
“One moment, and I’ll find out. Longtree, pull up the case involving an arrestee last night at the M building.” The line was quiet while Phyla listened to the sound of computer keys in the background.
The Commissioner finally came back on the line and summarized the report as he read. “Here it is. Officers Jenks and Murphy were called to your building in reference to a transient illegally camping on your back patio and using your restroom facilities. They arrested him at the request of your security officer, Jason Leigh. He was brought to a holding cell, where he assaulted one of the holding officers and was put under restraints. He became unresponsive and was transported to Eldridge.”
“So he’s in Eldridge hospital?” Phyla’s words were clipped and impatient.
“Yes, I assume—” Someone spoke in the background. “Oh, just a minute, Phyla. What’s that?” The line was silent until the Commissioner came back with new information. “There’s an addendum to the case. Let’s see. The prisoner apparently expired at the hospital.”
“What?” Phyla so rarely raised her voice that when she did so now, the Commissioner grew silent. She punched the button to disconnect and called out, “Get me—”
Daphne, who’d heard the conversation since Phyla had put it on speaker, called through the open door, “On it.”
Phyla only had to pace to the kitchen and back twice before Daphne was on the intercom. “Doctor Reiner, the Medical Director of Eldridge Hospital, is waiting for you on line one.”
“It took you long enough.” Phyla stalked to the phone, hit line one, and growled, “Daniel?”
“Yes, Phyla. How can I help you?” Reiner had been in a meeting with his Chief Operating Officer and didn’t usually drop everything to take a phone call. However, when the woman whose name was on the Neonatal Oncology Unit called, he not only took the call but had also unconsciously stood and straightened his tie when he picked up the phone.
Phyla didn’t waste time on pleasantries, “You had an old man in police custody die in your care last night. Who was the attending physician, and who would have informed the next of kin if they came in looking for him?”
“Um.” Daniel rarely had anything to do with patients, and knowing how angry Phyla could get if she had to wait for an answer rendered him temporarily incapable of intelligent speech.
“Um? Don’t you know what’s happening in your own hospital, Daniel? What Medical Director actually has the temerity to say “Um” to the largest single donor in the hospital’s history?” Phyla hadn’t raised her voice. On the contrary, it was a well-known fact that as she grew angrier, her voice moved into such low registers that whoever was in her sights had to lean in to hear, and anyone else in the room made hasty excuses to leave.
“My assistant is pulling up last night’s cases as we speak. Do you have a name?”
“How many patients do you kill on any given night?” Realizing her worry for Ash was making her edgier than usual, she amended, “His name was Barney—” She stopped when she realized she didn’t know his last name.
Once again, Daphne called in from the reception area, “Stettheimer.”
“Why don’t you get in here where you can actually be of some use instead of screeching at me like some kind of demented town crier?”
The Director’s voice came over the line. “Pardon me?”
“His last name was Stettheimer.”
Daphne came hurrying in carrying her cell phone and tablet, ready for whatever Phyla needed her to do.
Daniel repeated the name to someone. Even though it was only about thirty seconds before he gave her the answer, Phyla was close to calling the Chair of the Board of Directors to get some answers when he came back on the line. “Here we are. The attending in the ER was Doctor Paulson. She’s still here. Would you—”
“Get her on the line.” Phyla lowered her phone and spoke to Daphne. “Get me the owner of the Code One Club. Her name’s Darby.”
Daphne was proud of herself for showing absolutely no emotion when Phyla asked her to get the phone number for the most notorious lesbian club in town. She simply pulled up the number on her phone and hit send. She glanced up warily at Phyla when the call went straight to voicemail. There was no way Daphne would take no for an answer. Phyla had taught her that early on, so she hit end and called again. After the fourth try, she turned her back on her boss and left a message, “This is Phyla McGuire’s office calling for Darby. Call back the instant you get this message.” She left her personal cell number and hung up just as the doctor’s voice came over the speaker on Phyla’s phone.
“Yes? This is Doctor Paulson.” The tired voice had the deeper register of an older woman who sounded irritated at the interruption to her day.
Daniel, who’d apparently set up a conference call between himself, Phyla, and the ER, began to introduce Phyla, but she cut him off. “I have this, Daniel. Doctor Paulson, this is Phyla McGuire. I understand one of your patients died last night. Barney Stettheimer.”
“Are you a relative, Ms. McGuire?”
“I need a straight answer, Doctor, not one of your evasive ‘I can’t speak to you about my patient’ bullshit answers.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s all you’ll be getting from me if you’re not a relative.” The doctor clearly wasn’t intimidated by Phyla one tiny iota. Her tone was steady, as though she dealt with demanding, entitled wealthy patrons every day.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I do.”
Phyla’s voice dipped lower than Daphne had ever heard it when she ground out the name through clenched teeth. “Daniel.” The warning was clear. Daniel needed to fix things and fast.
Taking her life in her hands, Daphne stepped to Phyla’s desk and stage whispered, “Maybe she remembers Ash.”
The intensity of the look Phyla turned on her had Daphne nearly quitting on the spot. She lifted her chin, though, and held her ground.
Phyla dipped her chin once and again spoke over the top of the Medical Director, who was sputtering some nonsense about patient-doctor confidentiality. “All right, then, Doctor Paulson. A woman came in asking about the patient you lost.” The emphasis on the word conveyed exactly what Phyla thought of such inept handling of a patient. “Do you remember speaking with her?”
“I do. She was visibly upset, to begin with, and then she seemed to enter what I’d describe as a possible dissociative fugue state, but I can’t be certain. That’s not a diagnosis, mind you, simply an observation. She left the emergency room, and we didn’t see her again.”
“Tell me you sent someone after her.”
“It was a very busy night, Ms. McGuire. I neither had the manpower nor the right to send someone to follow her and bring her back against her will.”
Everyone was silent as Phyla closed her eyes and pulled in a calming breath. “Did you at least see which way she went?”
“East.”
Visions of removing both the Director and the doctor from the hospital staff once this whole fiasco was taken care of helped calm Phyla’s nerves. She slammed down the phone and turned to Daphne. “Well?”
Daphne was secretly proud of the way her voice barely shook when she answered. “No one’s picking up. I called four times before leaving a message and have called five times since then.”
Striding to her walk-in closet, Phyla disappeared inside and reappeared with her grey Balmain wool coat. She pulled it on while walking toward the door. “Tell Neville to meet us downstairs. Get your coat. You’re coming with me.”
Invitations to accompany Phyla had been few and far between since Ash had arrived, and Daphne’s heart leapt into her throat after hearing those words again. She grabbed her coat off the rack behind her desk, punched in Neville’s autodial, and ran to slide into the elevator seconds before the doors fully closed. She belatedly realized her cell didn’t work in the elevator.
Knowing Phyla wouldn’t accept that as an excuse, she opened the small door next to the card reader and grabbed the emergency phone. “This is Daphne. Ms. McGuire is on the way down in the elevator, and you need to tell Neville to get the car to the front doors now.” She waited a second for a response and then placed the phone back in the cubby. Daphne’s nerves were already on high alert, and a blush spread into her cheeks at Phyla’s next words.
“Very good thinking on all counts, Daphne.” Phyla noticed the blush and rolled her eyes. “Bloody hell, it’s not as though I never compliment you. Pull yourself together.”
Actually, Phyla had never given her such an overt compliment in the entire time she’d worked for her, but there was no way Daphne was going to point that out. They didn’t speak the rest of the way down, and they were out of the doors the second they opened.
Neville wasn’t waiting for them, and Daphne punched his autodial. “Where are you?” She hung up as soon as he answered her question. “He’s coming out of the garage now.”
Phyla customarily waited for him to escort her outside, but this time, she swept out on her own. The limo was pulling under the awning as soon as they were outside, and knowing they were in a rush, Daphne pushed in front of the valet as she scrambled to open the rear passenger door. By the time she’d run around to the driver’s side, Neville was out and holding the door open for her.
When Neville shut the door and hurried into his seat, Phyla said. “Code One.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sensing the tension in the air, Neville got them to the club in record time and found a parking spot right across the street. It hadn’t been difficult since very few of the businesses were open. As soon as he pulled to a stop, Daphne reached for her door handle.
Phyla distractedly said, “Stay.” When Neville undid his seatbelt, she said, “You too.” She got out, and luckily, there was very little traffic on this side street because she immediately crossed, fully expecting drivers to know who she was and to act accordingly. And that’s exactly what happened. Two cars stopped, and neither one blew their horn at the elegant woman on her way to the Code One Club.
Daphne shook her head. “Amazing.”
Neville nodded, “That she is.” Uncomfortable to be sitting in the car while his boss was out on the street alone, he kept a strict eye on her and on everything happening around them. “What’s going on?”
“Ash is missing.”
That surprised him enough that he glanced over his shoulder. “Missing?”
“Yeah. The cops arrested Barney last night, and he died. It sounds like she flipped out or something.”
He returned his attention to the street. He wasn’t just Phyla’s driver. He was also her head of security, and when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he stepped out of the car, buttoned his coat, and waited by his door.
Phyla rang the bell a third time, and when the door didn’t open, she leaned into the bell. The security woman who’d let her in the first time had said that, at times, Darby was in the building at all hours, and Phyla grabbed onto that since she had no idea where else to look for Ash. She didn’t let up until she heard cursing coming from inside.
“What the fuck? We’re closed, and you’d better run before this fucking door opens, or I’m gonna kick your ass all kinds of ways to Sunday.”
Phyla finally let up on the buzzer and heard the unmistakable metallic rasp of a bar being thrown back. The resulting clack when it hit its final destination said that whoever had shoved it open was not at all happy.
The door was jerked open, and a red-faced Darby stepped out to confront the person ringing her bell at nine forty-five in the morning.
She looked so intimidating that Neville took a step forward, intending to go to Phyla’s aid.
Darby opened her mouth to berate the idiot who’d woken her from a sound sleep. Granted, she’d fallen asleep at her desk after a particularly long night, but she closed her mouth again when she recognized Phyla staring at her from the front stoop.
Phyla wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the stocky woman glaring out at her. “Don’t you answer your phone?”
“I turn the office ringer off after work so I don’t get bothered by people calling asking about the club. After hours it’s mostly drunks, anyway.”
“Is Ash here?”
“What? No. Why would she be here?” When she saw the worry in Phyla’s eyes, Darby let out a long sigh, ran her hand through her hair, and motioned for Phyla to come inside. As soon as Phyla stepped over the threshold, Darby pushed the door shut and asked, “What happened?”
Realizing Ash hadn’t come to the club, an overwhelming weight descended on Phyla’s shoulders. For a moment, she wasn’t the great and powerful Phyla McGuire. She felt like the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy pulled back the curtain.
For the last hour, she’d been hyper-focused. There’d been steps she could take and people she could contact to find out what she needed to know. But now, she wasn’t sure of the next steps and felt numb and unsettled. Why had she dismissed Ash so easily last night? She should have been there for her, and with sudden realization, knew she always wanted to be there for her. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall to think.
“Phyla? Whatever happened, she’ll be okay, but I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
Phyla opened her eyes to see Darby standing next to her. The other woman put her hand on her shoulder, something very few people, well, none, other than Ash, would dare to do.
When Phyla didn’t answer right away, Darby tried again. “I’ve been through a lot with her, Phyla. I know sometimes things surrounding her can feel overwhelming, but she’s strong, and whatever’s happened, she’ll be okay.”
Phyla pulled herself together. She didn’t fully comprehend how a homeless woman with PTSD could have captured her heart in the few short months they’d known each other, but it was painfully obvious to her now that that was exactly what had happened. “A new security guard saw Barney in the back patio last night and had him arrested for trespassing. Ash wasn’t there, and the police took him. They must have put him in a cell. He collapsed and died in the hospital.”
“Oh shit.”
A crushing weight of guilt washed over Phyla when all the blood drained from Darby’s face. “I should never have interfered. If I hadn’t moved them into the patio area, none of this would have happened.”
Darby stood, and with her hand pushing her bangs straight up, she walked to the door and then returned to the desk. “And you don’t know where she is?”
“No. Where can we look?”
Darby headed back to her office. “Come on.” When she heard Phyla’s heels clicking behind her, she said over her shoulder, “And no. Don’t go the guilt route. With Ash, that’ll eat you up, and she’ll resent you for it. Ash couldn’t stop talking about your generosity in putting them back there. Shit happens, Phyla, and it happens around Ash more often than not.”
Her cell phone was lying next to a pile of paperwork scattered across her desk. She spoke while she scrolled through her contacts. “If you’re going to be her friend,” she looked up without raising her head, “And I think you are?” When Phyla nodded, she continued, “Then you have to accept her with all her baggage. We all have it. Some people’s baggage is just a hell of a lot heavier than what the rest of us carry around.
Darby pushed send and listened. After a few minutes, she hung up. “Shit. Look, I need to go see someone real quick. If you go back to your office, I can—”
“No.”
“There are some things I don’t feel comfortable sharing with you, so if—”
“Like the fact that she has a counselor for her PTSD? I’m aware of that. My driver can take us wherever we need to go.”
Darby narrowed her eyes. She studied Phyla a moment, and then the same glint of humor that so often came into Ash’s eyes flashed in hers. “I’ll bet you and Ash knock heads a lot, don’t you?” One side of Phyla’s mouth quirked up, and Darby put her hand on her chest, “Oh, be still my beating heart. I’ll also bet you only have to do that quirky smile thing one time, and she’s like putty in your hands. She always was a sucker for a powerful woman with a dimple in her cheek.”
Worry shone in Phyla’s eyes. “Yes, on both accounts.” Her soft voice broke with her next words. “We have to find her, Darby. And I don’t think you should joke at a time like this. She’s missing, and she needs our help.”
“Phyla, I don’t generally give people advice, but I’m going to make an exception because next to my wife, Ash is my best friend, and we love each other unconditionally. I’ve known her a long time, and she’s absolutely worth getting to know.” She sighed. “But, with her, it’s important to step back and catch your breath sometimes, and I’ve found the way I do that is with humor. Otherwise, I get to the point that I can’t breathe, and panic sets in. Either we’ll find her, or she’ll come back to us. You’ll see. It’ll be all right. So, let’s go.”
Darby hadn’t noticed the limo sitting across the street when she’d opened the door the first time. She whistled as they walked to it now. “Nice wheels.” She lifted her chin to Neville when he opened the car door for them. “Hey.”
“Ma’am.”
She nodded to Daphne and then sat in the rear-facing seat. She gave Neville an address several blocks from Doc’s place. No one spoke on the way there, and when he parked, she and Phyla got out after she instructed both Neville and Daphne to stay in the limo.
Darby pointed to Phyla’s heels. “How far can you walk in those?”
“As far as I need to.”
“Yeah, okay. I didn’t want to park right in front of Doc’s office because I figured those two don’t know about her PTSD?”
“I’m not sure whether they do or not, but I don’t think she’d like them knowing who her psychologist might be.”
They walked the four blocks to Doc’s office building and went inside. A woman was sitting in the waiting room, and Darby took a seat to wait.
