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Authors: Patricia M. Clark

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #humor, #serial killer, #women sleuths, #private investigation

Worse Than Being Alone (14 page)

BOOK: Worse Than Being Alone
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That’s almost inevitable with a
burn as serious as your mother’s. The antibiotics should take care
of that. If the pneumonia clears up and she gets through the next
couple of weeks without any further complications, she should
gradually improve. Then they can get her off the vent and start
skin grafting. This will be an agonizing back and forth
process.”


What if the pneumonia doesn’t
clear up?” she asked.


That would be a very ominous
sign. Look, I think you’re really trying to figure out if your
mom’s going to make it or not. Is that what you need to
know?”


Yes, I guess that’s it,” she
said. “The doctor doesn’t want to answer that question. He keeps
saying I need to have hope.”


He’s right. At this point no one
can state with any degree of certainty how this will go. If her
lungs don’t respond to antibiotics the next step may be kidney
failure. That sets up a multi-organ failure scenario. Until we get
to that point you need to have hope that your mom is going to make
it.”


Would you mind if I called you if
I have questions?” she asked.


Anytime. That card I gave you has
my cell phone number on it. You can always reach me on that. Do you
still have it?”


Yeah, I have it,” she said as a
look of sudden enlightenment appeared on her face. “Thank you for
coming and thanks for the great idea. I think I know just how to
make Walter show his true colors.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

I couldn’t stop thinking about Meadow Knull as I
drove back to my office where Crazy Cindy was waiting for me. The
only difference between Meadow and me and Crazy Cindy was the
in-your-face nature of Cindy’s dysfunction. Her frequent hand
washing, profuse sweating, and fearful behaviors are impossible to
conceal. The rest of us become practiced masters at hiding our
insecurities, our paranoid thought patterns, and our strange
reactions to certain events.

Still, it’s hard for me to give up calling my
secretary Crazy Cindy. Of course, I am much more comfortable having
Cindy’s dysfunction front and center than to analyze mine too
closely. Feeling guilty, I gave Cindy my friendliest smile when I
walked in the office, which only got me a suspicious, curious look
in response.


Hey, Cindy, how’s it going?” I
asked.


Just fine, Kitty,” she said,
eying me suspiciously. “Did Roni get hold of you?”


No, I couldn’t hear my cell phone
so it went to voice mail. I was at St. John’s.”


She called and asked me to set up
a meeting tomorrow,” Cindy said. “She wants to meet with you and
Lionel Phelps. I set it up for 11. Is that OK?”


Yeah, that works. I’ll see if I
can reach Roni. I wonder what she’s found out?”


She didn’t say much,” Cindy said.
“She was on her way to the airport and her cell phone kept cutting
out. Do you have a minute? I was hoping I could talk to you about
something.”


Sure, what’s up?”


I just wanted to tell you
something,” she said. ”I would be happy to help you with
surveillance or anything else you need. I guess I was hoping you
might give me a chance to do that.”

Concerned Cindy had somehow read
my thoughts, I searched her face for some sign that would confirm
my suspicion. All I could spot was sincerity with a smattering of
innocence. The guilt I felt when I first entered the room
intensified. I wondered if I had ever really tried to understand
Cindy’s demons; what it must be like to actually believe snakes
might be able to slither through vents or drains.


You know, Cindy, I think maybe
you can help me, especially if Roni needs to keep investigating her
new stepmother.”


OK, then,” she said as the phone
rang and she answered. “Yes, Mr. Phelps, Kitty is right
here.”


Thanks, Cindy, I’ll take it in
the back,” I said as I walked to my desk and picked up the
receiver. “Hi, Mr. Phelps, what can I do for you?”


Call me Lionel,” he
said.


OK, I can do that if you’ll call
me Kitty. I hear I’m finally going to meet you
tomorrow.”


Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,”
he said. “I have some information for you. I ran a check on
Dung/Ho. Roni told me you nicknamed her Ho Chi Minh.”


Yeah, it’s a bad habit I’m
working on.”


Well, here’s what I got so far,”
he said. “She’s been here in the U.S. about 10 years. She doesn’t
have an arrest record. I also checked out that restaurant you
followed her to. It’s owned by a woman named Sandra Ho. The
interesting part is that she came to the U.S. about the same time
as Dung. Sandra Ho has one arrest for prostitution.”


What do you think that means?” I
asked.


I’m not sure. I think you need to
send someone in the restaurant the next time Dung goes in there.
Maybe then you can figure out if there’s a connection. It’s not
that hard to get false documents. The other interesting thing is
that black Mustang.”


Why is that interesting?” I
asked.


That vehicle is registered to
David Tran. He’s a well known Vietnamese mob guy here in St.
Louis.”


There’s a Vietnamese mob here?” I
asked.


Yeah, they’re into drugs and
prostitution just like every other mob. We can talk about this more
tomorrow, but I think you need to keep following these people and
get some pictures. Then maybe we can sort them out.”


Well, I’ll look forward to seeing
you tomorrow, then,” I said as I ended the call.

The next couple of hours were
spent answering phone calls and writing reports. Cindy was long
gone. I was packing it in to go feed Harley and her brood when my
cell phone rang.


Hello, this is Kitty,” I
said.


Kitty, this is Meadow. You need
to turn on your TV and watch Channel 5 news.”


OK,” I said as I reached over and
turned on the small wireless on my desk. “What am I going to
see?”


I don’t want to spoil it for you
since it was your idea. You know, I spent the first 20 years of my
life trying to put out all the little fires so Walter wouldn’t blow
his top. Always trying to smooth things over, calm the waters. It’s
remarkably easy to pour gasoline on Walter and fan the flames.
Watch the news.”

Meadow had hung up; I was tempted to run upstairs to
watch the news on my big screen, but I was afraid I’d miss it so I
stayed glued to the smaller set. I was starting to think Meadow was
wrong when the weather and sports segments ended, which usually
indicated the news time was running out.

The announcer then started the last story. “We have
an update for you on the condition of Beverly Knull. As you may
remember, Ms. Knull was critically burned at the Big Shot Fireworks
Factory three weeks ago. Lisa Rolwes has been covering this for us.
Lisa, what is Ms. Knull’s status?”


Mike, Beverly Knull remains in
critical condition at St. John’s. Her former husband, Walter Knull,
has been trying to get power of attorney and custody of their
children who are now in the care of his oldest daughter, Meadow.
Late today, we were at the Knull home when Walter arrived. Roll the
tape.”

Walter Knull stood outside his former home, yelling
obscenities that were mostly beeped out. “Meadow, you heartless
beep. How could you say that beep beep to me? I’m you’re beeping
father, you beeping beep.”

The camera panned back to the reporter. “Mr. Knull
appeared to be staggering and his breath smelled of alcohol. Meadow
Knull refused to be interviewed, but she did release a statement
that says in part, ‘My father’s long standing problems with alcohol
are well documented. That is the reason I have custody and power of
attorney.’ This is Lisa Rolwes, reporting from South St.
Louis.”


Damn, that girl is good,” I said
as I laughed, flipped the TV off, and left the office.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A cool, rainy morning awaited me outside, making me
glad I could take the elevator down a couple of floors and put off
trudging through the foul mess for a couple of hours. I was
thinking about Walter Knull’s drunken rant on the way down. Cindy
greeted me with a smile and a cup of coffee.


Hey Kitty, did you see that story
about Walter Knull last night?” she asked as she handed me the
mug.


Thank you, Cindy,” I said as I
took a sip. “Yeah, Meadow called me. I don’t think Walter is going
to have much of a chance of getting custody after that little
episode.”


Did you have something to do with
that?” Cindy asked.


I might have mentioned something
about getting some video of Walter drunk.”


I thought so,” she said, smiling
triumphantly.


Are you suggesting I’m sneaky and
devious?”


Or maybe just clever,” she said.
“Clever enough to keep a bad man from getting custody of his
kids.”

Roni burst into the outer office, rainwater dripping
off her jacket as she balanced her umbrella, a briefcase, and a
stack of folders.


Hey, you two, how’s it going?”
she asked as I grabbed the folders.


Good,” we both said in unison as
the outer office door opened, allowing David Weller and Lionel
Phelps to enter the office. Roni made the introductions and we
headed into our office. David Weller seemed like a force of nature
despite being confined to a wheelchair. Lionel seemed slightly
nerdish but in a vaguely interesting way.


I think Cindy should join us,” I
said. “She’s willing to help me with some surveillance.”


OK,” Roni said, staring at me
with a puzzled look. Cindy smiled and nodded as she took a
seat.


I guess I might as well start,”
Roni said. “I spent yesterday in Lexington, Kentucky. My father’s
new wife is named Marian. I interviewed Marian’s brother and her
former brother-in-law. She hasn’t spoken to her own brother for 30
years. He doesn’t have any use for her or trust her. He said she
got pregnant and married her first husband to escape, but it didn’t
work out very well.”


So, that was husband number one?”
Lionel asked.


Yes,” Roni said. “Her brother
thinks Marian grew up poor and didn’t like it very much. Her former
brother-in-law, Ronnie, was even more vocal. Marian’s husband fell
down the stairs and died. Ronnie doesn’t think it was an accident.
I got the impression he believes Marian tossed him down the stairs
so she could collect on a life insurance policy she took out on him
about six months before his death.”


That sounds ominous,” Lionel
said. “Did anyone investigate?”


Marian had him cremated right
away,” Roni said. “The local sheriff said there was nothing he
could do at the time. What do you think, Lionel?”


It’s interesting that there’s no
body to exhume,” Lionel said. “It’s possible it’s just what it
looks like, an unfortunate accident.”


Sounds kind of ominous to me,” I
said.


I worked on a female serial
killer case,” Lionel said. “This particular killer was what we
refer to as an Angel of Death. She was a nurse who killed 22
people. At least that was the number we were able to prove. We
thought the actual number was higher. There are categories of
female serial killers.”


I thought serial killers were all
male,” David Weller said.


That’s what everybody thinks,”
Lionel said. “Everybody has heard of Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and
John Wayne Gacy. Those killers are instantly recognizable for their
exploits while no one has heard of Genene Jones, Bobbie Sue
Terrell, or Jane Toppan, even though their body counts were higher.
We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. All we know for sure is that
her first husband died under mysterious circumstances. Having said
that, I think you need to keep digging and interview the rest of
Marian’s husbands.”


Don’t you mean survivors?” I
offered.


Yes, we know they’re all dead
except for one,” Lionel said. “That seems like a definite pattern.
Marian could fit the profile of the Black Widow. They usually have
six or seven victims. Their motive is profit; usually life
insurance payoffs. The weapon of choice is usually
poison.”


That’s just great,” Roni said.
“Marian collected a two hundred thousand dollar life insurance
payout after her first husband died. My Dad’s already been in the
hospital because he took some homeopathic medicine Marian gave him.
Maybe I should warn him.”


You know him better than any of
us,” Lionel said. “How would he take that?”


He’d probably get mad,” Roni
said. “He’s very loyal. He’d feel like he was betraying Marian.
It’s going to take more than one incident to make him
listen.”


What’s the next stop on your
list?” I asked.


Husband number two lived in
Springfield,” Roni said.


Missouri or Illinois?” Lionel
asked.


Oh, Missouri,” Roni
said.

BOOK: Worse Than Being Alone
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