Deadly Defiance, page 7
Before they ate they decided to take the leisurely two-mile hike from the ranger station and museum to the natural springs that fed Travertine Creek, which originated from the springs in the park. Rebekah wasn’t big on hiking but she had always enjoyed this trip because of the large trees, flowers, and wildlife that often could be seen from the trail.
After they had been hiking for twenty minutes or so, Stan noticed Rebekah was pretty winded, so he suggested she stop and rest on a large fallen log. She didn’t argue with him.
“You’re out of shape, my love,” Stan said teasingly.
“I’m just so tired. I don’t know why. We haven’t done that much today.”
“Maybe you’re dehydrated,” Stan said and handed Rebekah his canteen.
She accepted it and took a long drink. “Thanks. I’m okay. We can go now.”
They continued to hike and by the time they got to the first spring Rebekah was huffing and puffing like she was climbing up a steep hill rather than on a relatively flat trail. Stan watched her with much concern.
“Am I going to have to carry you back?” Stan asked, only partially joking.
“No, I’ll be okay. Just let me rest.”
They rested a good half hour and then Rebekah announced she was fit to make the return trip. Stan took her hand because she seemed a little unstable and he was afraid she might trip and fall. About halfway back to the camp Stan had to put his arm around Rebekah’s waist to make sure she stayed on her feet. After a while they stopped so she could rest. Stan watched her worriedly, wondering if he should stop one of the other hikers on the trail and ask them to get help.
Seeing the concern on Stan’s face Rebekah said, “I’m okay. I’m just feeling a little weak today.”
“I know. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Just get me back to the car where I can lie down.”
Fifteen minutes later, relief washed over Stan as he saw the ranger’s station in the distance. Just as he was about to mention it to Rebekah, she collapsed. Stan caught her before she fell and carried her over to a bench near the ranger station.
“I guess I’m going to have to find you a doctor.”
“No. I’m not going to some hick doctor out here.”
“I’m sure there’s a town not too far from here with a hospital emergency room.”
“No,” Rebekah said. “I’ll be fine. Just get me to the car and take me home.”
Stan sighed. “Okay, but you need to go to the doctor first thing when we get back. Something is obviously wrong with you.”
“It’s just menopause. My body is changing.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of menopause causing you to collapse from exhaustion.”
“Just take me home,” Rebekah repeated firmly.
“Okay.”
Stan carried Rebekah through the parking lot to their car and helped her inside. After that they drove straight home, stopping only to get gas and buy a hamburger at Carl’s Jr. By the time they got home Rebekah seemed much better and insisted Stan forget anything had happened. Although Stan pressed her, she refused to go to the local emergency clinic which was open on Sundays.
That night as they were getting ready for bed Stan noticed Rebekah looked odd. One side of her body seemed out of kilter. He went over to her and took her limp hand.
“Rebekah! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rebekah replied, but Stan could see that something was very wrong.
“Come on. I’m taking you to the emergency room,” he said as he put an arm around her and helped her get up.
“No. I’ll be all right,” she protested.
“You’re not all right. Don’t give me any crap! You’re going to the emergency room.”
With much difficulty Stan got Rebekah into the car and drove her to the Plano Hospital Emergency Room. After waiting twenty minutes they were escorted into a treatment room and waited. Rebekah seemed much better now that they were at the hospital. Her face wasn’t drooping anymore and she’d regained the strength in her left hand.
“I feel fine. I don’t know why you brought me here,” she complained.
“Well, we’re here, so let them check you out.”
A few minutes later a nurse came in and took vitals and asked why they had come in. Stan told her what had happened during the day and about the loss of control over one side of the body.
“Sounds like a TIA.”
“TIA?” Stan asked.
“Yeah. A transient ischemic attack. It’s kind of like a mini-stroke. A blood vessel in the brain is restricted but only temporarily rather than permanently in the case of a stroke. It’s a warning sign that you’re in danger of a real stroke.”
“Hmm,” Stan said. “Isn’t that unusual for someone of her age?”
The nurse looked at Rebekah. “How old are you?”
“Forty-six,” Rebekah replied.
She shrugged. “Not necessarily. Have you done anything out of the ordinary in the last few days?”
“Well, we just got back from Platt National Park up in Oklahoma,” Stan replied.
“Oh, you didn’t by chance pick up a tick? A tick can carry Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. A bite on the arm can cause it to lose strength and cause a general malaise.”
“Really?” Stan said.
“Yeah, let me check for tick bites.”
“I don’t think anything bit me,” Rebekah said.
“It’s not bite exactly. They burrow into your skin,” the nurse said as she examined Rebekah thoroughly. “I don’t see anything. Okay, let me take some blood and then I’ll send someone in to do an EKG.”
Stan nodded and gave Rebekah a concerned look. The nurse took her blood and then left.
“I feel fine now. Let’s just go home.”
Stan sighed. “Just relax and let them check you out. We need to find out what’s wrong with you.”
A few minutes later a tech came in and gave Rebekah an EKG. When it was over and he was about to leave Stan asked, “So, how did it look?”
The tech shrugged. “The doctor will be by in a minute after he’s had a chance to read it.”
Stan took Rebekah’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I hope they can figure out what’s wrong with you.”
“Nothing is wrong with me,” Rebekah replied angrily.
“Rebekah! You just don’t suddenly become so exhausted that you can’t walk.”
Rebekah turned away and then a smile came over her face. “You remember when you took Marcia to Indian Princess camp in Oklahoma and you got that tick on your scrotum?”
Stan smiled. “Yeah, how could I forget?”
“That was hysterical!”
“For you, maybe,” Stan snickered.
“It’s a good thing your—you-know-what—didn’t freeze up.”
Stan and Rebekah started laughing. The door opened and the doctor came in looking surprised.
He smiled at Rebekah. “So, you must be feeling better.”
“I’m fine,” Rebekah said. “My husband is a little over dramatic.”
“Over dramatic?” Stan protested. “When you suddenly lose control of one side of your body—”
“Yes,” the doctor said. “You can’t fool around with something like that. You were right to bring her in. However, we’ve run all the normal tests for this type of thing and can’t find anything wrong with you.”
“So, what’s causing her to be so weak?” Stan asked.
“I don’t know. It might be she got dehydrated or overheated.”
“It wasn’t hot Saturday. We always go to Platt National Park early in the year to avoid the heat. And, I made sure she drank plenty of water.”
The doctor shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just stress. But you should make an appointment with your primary care physician and tell him what happened. He can do some more investigation and perhaps figure out what caused all of this.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rebekah said. “Let’s go, Stan.”
The doctor left and Stan helped Rebekah get dressed and then they went home. Stan made Rebekah promise she’d make an appointment with her regular doctor the next day but he knew she wouldn’t do it.
On Monday Stan had a telephone appointment with Herbert Wolf’s widow in the morning and had made arrangements to visit Herbert’s parents in the afternoon at their home. At ten o’clock he made the call.
“Mrs. Wolf?”
“Yes.”
“This is Stan Turner?”
“Oh, right.”
“How are you?”
“Okay, I guess. Still not over Herb’s passing.”
“Yes, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess your attorney told you what my job is as ad litem?”
“Yes, he did.”
“I just need to know if you have any knowledge of Mitch or any other possible child your husband might have fathered.”
“Yes, I am certain there are no children. Herb never mentioned having a child and I’m sure he would have told me something that important in the six years we were married.”
“Yes. You would think so. Were you his second wife?”
“Yes. He and his first wife were childhood sweethearts and they got married just before Herb went off to fight in the Vietnam War. He was gone for six years and they were nearly strangers by the time he returned. The marriage only lasted another six months before she filed for divorce. There were no children.”
“What was his first wife’s name?”
“Angela. Angela Denise, I believe.”
“When was the last time your husband saw Angela?”
“Oh, I think four or five years ago,” Glenda said.
“Did you ever meet her?”
“Yes, we ran into her at Red Lobster one night and Herb introduced me.”
“Did you talk at all?”
“Just for a few moments.”
“She didn’t mention a child?”
“No. There couldn’t have been a child. I don’t think there was even any sex after Herb returned. They both realized they’d made a mistake.”
Stan nodded. “So, what service was Herb in when he went to Vietnam?”
“He was a pilot in the navy,” Glenda replied. “He flew transports mainly. When he got home he got a job as a pilot with Braniff Airlines. When they went out of business he went to work for Continental, based out of Houston.”
“Was he piloting the plane that crashed?”
“No, he was a passenger. He’d been scheduled on a flight out of Salt Lake City and was flying there from Dallas to meet it. About the time they arrived a thunderstorm was rolling through. The air traffic controller should have waved them off, but I guess he misjudged the severity of the storm. They got caught in some wind shear and missed the runway.”
“Oh, my God!” Stan said.
“Luckily it wasn’t a full flight. There were thirty-two fatalities including Herb.”
Stan shook his head. “He survived six years flying combat and ends up dying in a thunderstorm on a routine commercial flight.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Well, so far I haven’t found a shred of evidence that Mitch exists. Do you have any theories as to where your husband came up with the name or why he would claim to have a child?”
Glenda shook her head. “He wanted children and was disappointed that he hadn’t had any. I had two miscarriages, unfortunately, which was a bitter disappointment to both of us. We had thrown around names for boys and Mitch was one of them. One of his neurologists suggested that the extensive head injuries that he suffered might have triggered delusions and one of them might have been that he had actually had a child.”
Stan thought about that. It was a plausible theory. “Okay. Well, thanks for talking to me. I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”
“How long do you think your investigation is going to take?” Glenda asked.
Stan hesitated. He knew everyone was anxious to close out the estate and distribute the money, but he couldn’t file a report until he was absolutely sure Mitch didn’t exist. “I don’t know. I’ve got to talk to Herb’s parents and some of his friends. Hopefully another week or so at the most—unless I find something, of course.”
Glenda sighed. “All right. Do what you have to do, but please do it expeditiously. I’d like to get this chapter of my life over with.”
Stan hung up and thought more about the delusion theory that one of the neurologists had come up with. It made sense to him, but it was just a theory—not enough of a certainty to stop his investigation. He did make a note to talk to each of Herb’s doctors to see if any of them could shed light on the situation.
Just as Stan hung up Jodie walked in. “You’ve got to listen to this tape,” she said excitedly.
“What tape?” Stan asked.
“Don’t be mad at me, but I taped my conversations with Ricardo and the interview with the landowner across the street from the lot were Romildo was murdered.”
“Conversations? I thought you weren’t going to see him again.”
“Well, I kinda had to go out with him one more time and it was a good thing I did. His brother was there and they got into a little skirmish over Icaro’s business practices.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’ve got to hear this.”
Jodie played the tape and Stan listened attentively. When it finished, Stan smiled. “Nice work. Weren’t you scared?”
Jodie swallowed hard. “A little, but I don’t think I was in danger. There was so much animosity between them, I doubt either one thought much about me.”
“I don’t know. I’m glad you won’t be doing that anymore. . . . We should get this over to Detective Besch. Make a couple of copies. We need one and I’d like to give one to Special Agent Lot at the FBI.”
“Will do,” Jodie said and left.
Stan shook his head. Jodie was a force to be reckoned with. He hit the intercom button and waited for Maria to answer.
“Yes.”
“Maria, get Agent Lot of the FBI on the line, would you?”
“Okay.”
Stan wondered if the FBI would be interested in a case like this. It seemed operations like Alliance Fabrications were pretty commonplace and the government hadn’t done much to shut them down. They must have known Alliance Fabrications was employing illegal aliens after they investigated Mr. Alvarez’s death, yet nothing was done about it. The intercom buzzed and Stan picked up.
“Yes.”
“Special Agent Lot is on the line.”
“Thank you, Maria,” Stan said, pushing the blinking line on his telephone. “Hello, Agent Lot?”
“Yes, Stan. How are you?”
“Oh, not too bad. Overworked and underpaid just like everybody else.”
“Well, you’ve got that right. What can I do for you?”
“Listen, I’ve been working on a wrongful death suit and I’ve come across some evidence of labor violations. I’ve got a tape with some rather glaring admissions from a VP in the company, if you’re interested.”
“Yes. What’s the name of the company?”
“Alliance Fabrications.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of them. There’s an opened file, I believe.”
“Well, I’m about to file the wrongful death suit, but my clients’ primary objective is to find out the truth and make the responsible person pay for their father’s death.”
“Well, that’s what they all say, right?”
“True. Often that is the case, but here I think they genuinely want to see Mr. Icaro Melendez behind bars, if he ordered their father’s death.”
“So, when can I listen to the tape?”
“Well, if you want me to bring it to you, it will have to be tomorrow. I’ve got to meet with some witnesses this afternoon. I should be back by 4:30, however, if you want to come here.”
“I’ll come to you. Your office still in the same location?”
“Yes. Nothing’s changed.”
“All right, see you at 4:30.”
Stan hung up and looked at his watch. It was nearly lunchtime, so he grabbed his coat and went to find Paula to see if she wanted to go to lunch. He found her deep into the preparation of a brief.
“You gonna break for lunch?”
Paula looked up. “Yes. I’m famished. Let’s go.”
Paula got up and they left to run down the street to Dickey’s Barbeque. As they were standing in line Stan told Paula about what had happened to Rebekah over the weekend.
“Oh, my God. She just fainted?”
“Well, not exactly. She just seemed to run out of energy until I finally had to carry her to the car. By the time we got home, though, she was fine.”
“Wow. That’s bizarre. I wonder what would cause something like that.”
They made it to the front of the line, Stan paid for both of them, and they found an empty table. As they began to eat, Stan finished the story.
“She had no feeling on her left side?”
“Yeah, for about fifteen minutes and then it slowly came back. By the time we got to the emergency room she was almost back to normal.”
“That’s strange,” Paula said. “So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m trying to get her to go to the doctor, but she won’t do it. I know her.”
“Hmm. I’m sorry. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“No, that will make her even more intransigent. I’m just hoping she’ll get scared and decide to go on her own.”
“God, I hope you’re right,” Paula said, shaking her head.
After lunch Stan drove to Mesquite to meet with Herbert Wolf’s parents. They lived in a retirement community near Town East Mall. Stan signed in and then found their apartment on a wall map mounted near the elevators. He went to the third floor and then went left to find apartment 307. He knocked on the door and Eunice Wolf opened it.
“Come in, Mr. Turner. Come right in.”
She stepped aside and Stan entered the small but nicely furnished apartment. Mrs. Wolf pointed to the kitchen table and Stan took a seat.
