Conversations and Accusations
"Why am I coming?" Wade asked. It wasn't, not quite, a whine. Wade really didn't like being away from his computers and room.
"Because we're testing out that nice new satellite enabled laptop that you convinced the Bureau to buy you at such expense to the taxpayers." Sheila said, "And because possession is nine-tenths of the law, and I don't want to find out, when I call for help, someone else has poached you for their very important project." They'd flown in from LA to Middleton Colorado, and picked up a rented car.
It was snowing, Sheila noticed, and shivered.
Snow, Gah. LA was having a cold snap right now, I mean, geez, it was probably a freezing 75 at noon.
"So what's the plan?" Tom asked. "Talk to the family?"
"Oh riiiigggghhhht." Sheila said. "Hello Dr. Possible, where here to dig up your wife and kid. See, your baby girl may not be dead, just a crazed killer…No. Until we're more certain, I don't want to run around screaming, THE GIRL LIVES! No, how about we stop at the hospital first."
"Hospital?"
"Yah. I want some background on this. People do weird things, but she got caught because she was a bad crook…and then was good enough to fake her death, and come up with two bodies?"
"How do we know the mom's alive?" Wade asked from the back seat.
"Point Nerdmeister, we don't." Sheila said, "But that raises another question—who was interested in them enough to save the daughter—or daughter and mom?"
When they pulled up to the hospital, the three got out.
"Stay in the lobby," Sheila said to Wade, "I don't want to get people distracted by explaining why you're working with the FBI." Wade nodded, and went to a seat. Sheila and Tom headed to the front desk.
"May I help you?" The nurse asked, and Sheila nodded, showing her FBI identification.
"Is there anyone who was working here about twelve years ago?" She asked.
"Um…some people…why?"
"I'm doing some follow up on a drug case that involved Dr.Cindy Possible during that time."
"Follow up…..oh, that Possible." She frowned, "I think that one of the doctors she was sharing shifts with is here…wait one moment." She consulted a schedule.
"Oh, he's between procedures—Dr. Michaelson. He should be in his office right now." The secretary called the office and after a brief conversation, turned to Sheila and tom.
"He can see you for about thirty minutes."
"Thanks." Sheila said and headed to the elevators.
"How do we play this?" Tom asked.
"Ask questions, and see if we like the answers."
The two walked up to the office of Dr. Michaelson, and entered it. Michaelson was a harried looking man in his late thirties or early forties, talking on a phone.
"Look, Denise… I know Marcella's upset about that, but I can't show up for the cheer competition. Dr. Tomkin's called in sick, and I have to take his caseload. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to her." With that, he looked up at the two, "Sorry Denise, I have to go now." Putting the phone down, he frowned at Shiela and Tom. "Can I help you, or are you hear to cap my day?"
"Hopefully the first. I'm Shiela Go, Federal Bureau of Investigation, this is Tom Jones."
"Also of the Bureau." Tom said, reaching across to shake the doctors hand after Shiela.
"Well, I don't think my parking tickets would lead to the involvement of the FBI." Michaelson said. Sheila could see his mind racing trying to figure out, what the hell have I done? She smiled.
"Nothing about you, Doctor… we're doing some background on an old case, and you were mentioned as someone on the scene."
"Oh?"
"Dr. Cindy Possible." Sheila quietly said. The doctor's eyes became closed and hostile.
"I'm afraid I don't want to talk about that."
"I'm afraid we need to."
"Do you have a warrant? Because if you don't this conversation is at an end." Sheila looked at him, paused, thought, and then went with her impulse.
"Better than a warrant. We have information that leads us to believe that her child is alive. Kimberly Ann Possible, I believe her name was." The doctor looked for a moment like he didn't remember the name, and then turned pale.
"That's not even funny, Agent Go."
"I'm not intending to be funny. We really do have some information that she might be alive."
"I was one of the first ones on scene, when the paramedics called. The car had already burned out. I saw their bodies."
"You saw someone's bodies." Sheila said. "Maybe not theirs." She shrugged, "Maybe we're wrong and they are theirs. I want to know what happened, from someone who was there."
"I…" He paused, "I went to medical school with Cindy, you understand, so I may not be… objective."
"I understand. First question. Did she do it?"
"The…the evidence was there. Missing drugs, money deposits to her account, even her codes had been used to open it…the kicker was her finger prints on the key card that had last been logged opening the storage unit."
"Anything else, before that came out?" Sheila said, leaning forward. Michaelson paused.
"She was…distracted. Worried, about something."
"Money?" Tom asked, and Sheila flashed a quelling look at him.
Don't lead the witness, Tom. Let it come out naturally.
"No. Her husband worked at the Space Center and they both were quite well paid." Michaelson laughed, softly. "In fact, James had some patents that brought in a little extra…no, they weren't hurting for money in the slightest. She had talked about the fact that she might take a year or so of reduced duty to care for her daughter and her twins, in fact and she never expressed any worries about money." He sighed, "But all of a sudden… about a month before she became…withdrawn. Angry at times, fearful at others. I put it down to post partum depression—and in any case, a five year old and two new born twins, well, those would be a handful for anyone!"
"And then?"
"Then she…" He paused, "She got out on bail, went home, and apparently, got into her car with Kim, and well…" Even after twelve years, Michaelson felt the need to grab a tissue and blow into it noisily.
Maybe holding a little torch, Doctor?
"And no note—not even one that wasn't given to the police."
"No. Nothing." He paused, "James was… utterly devastated by it, as you can imagine. For a time we feared he might- well, in any case his mother came to live with him and help raise the twins." He looked at Sheila. "You haven't said anything to him, have you?"
"No."
"Ah, a word… a word of advice. Talk to his mother first. James still works at the space center…but he's…not entirely rational about this incident. A few months after the suicide…er, if that's what it was, he was arrested."
"For what?"
"Assault on a police officer. He saw one of the involved officers and took out after him." Sheila raised her eyebrows. That hadn't been in the case file.
"What happened?"
"The officer and district attorney—not the one who had prosecuted his wife, withdrew charges on the agreement that he would see a psychologist." The doctor shrugged, "As I understood it, both the officer and the DA saw no reason to put him through more suffering." Sheila nodded at that and checked off one of her mental rolodex's possibilities, that there had been a community vendetta. It certainly sounded like they'd be more likely to give her the benefit of a doubt, which made the suicide all the more damning… or appear more damning.
"Thank you doctor." Sheila said, handing him her card. "If you remember anything else." She paused, "But please, keep this under your hat. This may prove to be nothing, a red herring, in which case I would hate to see it dredge up painful memories for all concerned."
"I understand…" He paused, "If… if it turns out that they weren't killed, what will you do?"
"Try and find them." She quietly said.
"Oh. Even if she was guilty…running for twelve years…isn't that enough?"
"I don't make the laws doctor, nor do I get to pick and choose what laws I enforce." Sheila paused, "But I think that after this much time, depending on other…factors, the courts might be inclined to be lenient. Still, we're getting ahead of ourselves here."
The two agents excused themselves, and then left the thoughtful looking doctor.
"So?" Tom said once they were in the elevator.
"He…doesn't' want to think she did it, but he can't avoid how the situation looked." Sheila said.
"Why didn't you ask about the body?"
"Because I didn't want to make him defensive." She paused, "No money problems, no family problems, suddenly out of nowhere, she gets involved…"
Something stinks. Sheila thought, cautioning herself to not get too wedded to any conclusion yet
"So do we talk to her grandmother?" Tom looked over at Sheila. "We have time—if they have two children, we've got about two hours before school gets out…and he's probably not home from work yet."
"Yes." Sheila said. "I think I'll leave the cops for last." Her hind brain had a prickling sensation that she'd come to trust. The moment she talked to the local police, the local government would know what was going on…
Kim entered the room, a small, Spartan, but well equipped medical examination room. On it, a man, his body a mass of scar tissue and tattoos, lay, torso bloody from a wound in his shoulder.
"If the knife had gone a centimeter to the side, we wouldn't be talking right now." The older, redheaded woman said, working on him. "It would have sliced right through an artery, and you would have bled out in minutes. Be careful next time." The only reply she got was a grunt, as she finished stitching up the wound. Without another word, the Yakuza member got up and lumbered out of the tiny room, leaving Kim facing Cindy possible.
"There will be a dinner tonight. He wants you presentable, and at the table." Kim's voice was emotionless.
"Oh, I'm… not really prepared…" Cindy said, stepping back. Fear flickered in her eyes.
"Then get prepared." Kim said. "He is not asking."
"I…" in one swift motion Kim closed the distance to her mother, gripping her hand by the wrist and bending it back until the older woman cried out in pain.
"I said…" Kim said in the same emotionless tone, "He is not asking." Now there was an emotion in her voice. Contempt. "As you have him to thank for everything… including recovering your failures, you could at least try to attempt to pay him back… as useless as it might be." Without waiting for an answer, Kim turned and left the room, leaving her mother to fall to her knees, cradling her rapidly bruising wrist.
To be continued.