Timmie almost laughed, kind of the way Barb had when she'd discovered her ex-husband on her treatment table. Sometimes it was the only thing you could do. Timmie was blaming Ellen for doing exactly what she'd spent the day wishing she could have done.

"It's okay, Ellen," she said as calmly as she could. "We know now. And whatever's going on, we'll stop it."

Ellen smiled.

Cindy frowned. "I still say it's Landry."

Timmie didn't listen, though. She was already on her way to the executive suites.

"Boy," Murphy said as they walked. "Once you get going you don't waste time, do you?"

"Shut up, Murphy."

"There's just one question you haven't answered tonight."

"What's that?"

"Who do you think offered to kill your father for you?"

Chapter 22

Barb started calling damn near at dawn. "What's going on?" she asked. "I would have been over there but I was stuck pulling a double shift in the city. Murphy said he was handling it."

"He said that, did he?" Timmie asked, half-asleep at her kitchen table.

"He didn't think you wanted to be bothered. Now, what the hell is going on?"

Timmie stared into her coffee without much seeing it. "How about I give you the Reader's Digest version?"

Even that took fifteen minutes.

"Well, was it Landry?" Barb demanded when she'd finished.

"Beats me. Nobody saw him but Cindy."

"Oh, great. The ideal witness. She probably swore she saw him with Elvis. Okay, what else is going on?"

"Conrad's coming in this morning to pick up the box with Alice's meds. I think I'm going to miss it. It's become kind of a mute but tasteful pet, you know?"

"Only you would think a chameleon is too noisy. I've been keeping tabs on the official game of hot potato they're playing with Alice's earthly remains. Van Adder refuses to consider it as one of his cases. Alex doesn't want to release her until questions about that dij level have been answered. It was 6.7, by the way."

Timmie whistled. "Considering how slow her system was, imagine how much higher it could have gotten if she just hadn't croaked."

There was a small silence. "You're a bit more chipper than the last time I talked to you."

Timmie thought about it a minute. "I guess I am."

"How's your dad?"

She considered the question and realized she could answer it almost free of guilt. Was this all it took to free yourself of that kind of turmoil? Turn down one murder-for-hire offer? Maybe she could share this with other Alzheimer's children.

"He's okay," she said, and damn near meant it.

Barb sounded as if she were smiling. "Good. Now, how can we prove who called you?"

"How the hell do I know? Whoever it was called from Alex's office, which was locked tight when we got there, and I couldn't identify his voice again if my life depended on it."

"Fingerprints?"

"I'll suggest it to Micklind, but who says he'll be allowed to investigate? We don't have the tape with the offer on it. Besides, what do you bet Landry has the perfect alibi?"

Barb snorted in disgust. "This stuff sure looks a lot easier when they do it in the movies. Well, what about Ginny?"

"Ginny? The night operator Ginny?"

"Sure. Anybody using the doctors' lot has to punch in with his ID card. When they do, their name flashes up on the night operator's board in case she has to page them."

Timmie almost couldn't breathe. "And the administrators park in the doctors' lot?"

"You think they're gonna park with the peons? Tell you what. I'll get Ginny's number and call her."

"You get the number. I'll call. I need to know more than you do."

Ten minutes later, a sleepy but agreeable Ginny was on the phone. "Honey, what can ole Ginny do for you?"

Timmie worked very hard to keep her tone level. "Last night when I called you about Dr. Raymond's phone number?"

"Sure, sugar."

"About that time, did you notice anybody check in from the doctors' lot?"

Ginny thought about it for almost five minutes longer than Timmie could tolerate. "Couple o' OBs," she said. "We had twins this mornin', didya know?"

"No, I didn't. Anybody else?"

"You want somebody in particular?"

"Mr. Landry?"

"Aw, heck no, sugar. I woulda remembered. Last time I saw him here on nights he pulled a surprise inspection, got four people fired. He wasn't here."

"How 'bout Dr. Raymond?"

"No. Like I told you. He's been away. In fact, I saw Miss Arlington heading out to pick him up at the airport. Evidently somebody's borrowing his car."

Then he hadn't been home. He had an alibi. He was safe.

At least for that. Timmie let out her breath. She'd have her talk with him when he came to pick up the car she hadn't even used.

"But that other doctor was there," Ginny said, grabbing Timmie's attention.

Timmie gulped. "Other doctor?"

"Sure. I noticed because I didn't see his name on the board. But I saw him at the elevators about two, and I thought, why, that's the second time I've seen him in two days. You know?"

Timmie held her breath. "Who, Ginny?"

"Why, Dr. Raymond's partner. Dr. Davies?"

* * *

Timmie was still sitting in the same place ten minutes later when the doorbell rang. She almost didn't get up to answer it.

Davies had offered to kill her father? Davies was their angel of death? Timmie didn't know how to feel about that. She didn't know him well enough to feel disappointment or anger. She just wanted to know how this affected Alex. How it was going to affect the unit. She wanted to know how they were going to prove it.

The doorbell rang again. Timmie held off answering it until she made a quick call to Murphy, who wasn't there. She left the message on his machine.

"Get everything you can on Dr. Davies. I think he was the one who called me. Call me at work this afternoon."

By the time Timmie reached the front hallway, the jabs on her bell were starting to sound frantic. She thought to look through the glass in the door, and then remembered she hadn't replaced it yet. So she checked through the window and got the third or fourth surprise of her day. Talk about her work coming to her. She yanked the door open so fast her guest took a surprised step back.

"Alex," she greeted him. "Come in. You and I have to talk."

* * *

He didn't know. Timmie just couldn't believe it, even seeing the reaction set in on his lovely golden features when she told him what was happening up in his beloved unit. He really didn't comprehend the fact that those lovely old people who were dying in Restcrest weren't just filling a heavenly transportation quota.

"How could you not figure this out?" Timmie demanded, suddenly furious. "Everybody in town knows but you. And it's your unit!"

Alex Raymond sat in stunned silence on her couch. "You have to be imagining this, Timmie."

Timmie was pacing. She'd had her fill of sitting in one place for a lifetime, evidently, because suddenly she couldn't hold still. "Am I?" she asked. "Then I imagined Daniel Murphy being beaten half to death to get him to stop investigating. I imagined somebody phoning me last night who might be your partner, offering to kill my father if I'd just shut up and leave everything be. Hell, Alex, I must have imagined Victor Adkins being murdered because he believed Charlie Cleveland when he said his father had been murdered. Charlie came to you and you didn't even listen to him!"