Last Licks

However reluctantly, Sunny had to hand it to the sheriff. The man was a political animal. He’d just figured out how to placate one supporter (Ollie) by having a political rival (Will) personally investigate the death of someone from the wealthy enclave of Piney Brook. Whatever Will did, he’d make waves in that entitled community, closing some of the deep pockets he’d need to tap to finance a Will Price insurgency. Two birds with one stone.

Considering Nesbit’s offer, Ollie transformed into the master of the deal.

“Sunny and Price will need access to people and records here—not to mention the assistance of the administration.”

Dr. Gavrik’s lips compressed so tightly, they seemed to disappear. “This sounds to me like an attempt at blackmail by a patient who, perhaps, should find another facility for his recuperation.”

Ollie turned to Reese. “If there’s any attempt to throw me out of here, I’ll be a patient who definitely sues this facility. And I can make sure there’s a lot of publicity about it, too.”

Dr. Reese gave a small shudder. But his voice was steady as he said, “We might consider an arrangement along the lines you’re suggesting. However, we cannot violate patient confidentiality. You’ll all have to sign confidentiality agreements. Whatever Constable Price and Ms. Coolidge discover will be turned over to the sheriff. If he still finds no grounds to proceed, that will be the end of it.”

Ollie glanced over at Sheriff Nesbit, who shrugged. “Sounds reasonable to me.”

“One more thing.” Now Reese was in full negotiating mode. “We can’t have an endless fishing expedition going on. There should be a time limit. I suggest one week.”

“I can live with that,” Ollie replied.

Mike took Sunny by the arm and drew her outside in the hallway. “They’re making a lot of conditions in there that you’ll have to live with.”

“What can I do about it?” she asked. Whether it was the early-morning wake-up call or the shock of Gardner Scatterwell’s death, the whole situation still struck her as dreamlike, unreal. Her brain couldn’t seem to process it.

“You can tell them all to go to hell,” Mike advised, his voice low.

“And lose my job?”

“So quit,” Mike said. “You don’t owe Ollie anything.”

“Yeah, but Ollie is a big noise around Kittery Harbor—around the whole county. I’d have a hard enough time getting another job in this economy. With him against me . . .” She shook her head. “It would be hopeless.” She frowned. “Besides, you heard them—they’re going to throw Will into this whether I agree or not.”

“So?” Mike asked. “He’s a cop, after all. A professional. This is his job.”

“But I got to know Gardner,” Sunny said, “at least a little.”

Besides, her own professional instincts were rousing now. I’ve got a few ideas about why someone might have had it in for him,

she thought. I got an earful from Mrs. Martinson about what went on behind that nice-guy front he put up, not to mention seeing him in action with that therapist. It might be a thankless job. It might be a wild-goose chase. Gardner might have simply died of a stroke. But . . .

“Like it or not, we’ll find ourselves involved. Will’s going to be talking to us, asking questions,” Sunny finally said. “I think I’d rather be an investigator than just a witness.”

They returned to the room. Sunny stood at the foot of Ollie’s bed. “If I’m going to do this, we need to have some ground rules,” she said. “The big one is, we’re not doing this to prove you right, we’re just trying to get to the bottom of an unexpected death. If we find that Mr. Scatterwell died of natural causes, you’ll be all right with that.”

Ollie scowled, but said, “Okay—I’m pretty sure you’ll find otherwise.”

“The other deal breaker is, our investigation must be independent. You can’t tell us what to do.”

Now Ollie really scowled, but he reluctantly nodded. “I’ll expect regular updates, though. No surprises.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sunny told him. “Finally, you’ll have to get someone else to mind the office. This is going to be hard enough, working against a deadline. I can’t do this and work at MAX full-time, too.”

“You’re just an office worker?” Sunny was amazed at how much disdain Dr. Gavrik managed to put into those five words.

“An office worker who managed to solve a couple of murders,” Mike replied, silencing her and anyone else who planned to object.

Ollie shrugged. “It’s summertime. There are enough college kids floating around. Take one on as an intern.”

And that’s how highly he prizes the work I do for him, that cranky reporter’s voice in the back of Sunny’s head said. I can be replaced by some kid off the street.