Last Licks

A few minutes later, they sat on a bench outside in the garden, a large area with graveled walks meandering around bushes and trees, with plants and plenty of flowers wherever Sunny looked. The day was clear and warm, with the afternoon sun beating down heavily.

“The trick is to find places with shade and a breeze.” Rafe took a careful bite of his chicken salad sandwich and washed it down with a sip of soda. “And you’ve got to watch out, because we get a lot of bees around here. The flowers draw them.”

“Rafe,” Will said, “we just had a meeting with Dr. Reese.”

“Oh?” Rafe’s eyes grew guarded.

“He gave us the okay to check the records for the night that Gardner Scatterwell died.” Will looked closely at the security guy as he spoke.

“I’ll still have to check with him, of course.” Rafe looked as though his sandwich didn’t taste so good anymore.

“That’s exactly what you should do,” Sunny told him. She paused for a moment, trying to phrase her next question so it wouldn’t sound like an accusation. “I know you’re pretty busy on the door during the early part of your shift, but things must get kind of boring overnight, don’t they?”

“Oh, no,” Rafe replied. “I have screens to watch from the video cameras outside, and I do at least one set of rounds, clocking in at stations all over the building.”

Something else to check, Sunny thought.

“Did you notice anything odd the other night? Anybody out of the ordinary?”

“You mean, anybody I want to put the finger on.” Rafe put his sandwich down and pulled out a cell phone. After dialing, he said, “Hey, Dee, it’s Rafe. I need to talk to the doctor.” He waited a moment, then said, “Afternoon, Dr. Reese. I’m here with Miss Coolidge and Mr. Price—”

That was as far as he got. Then he sat listening in silence. “Okay, I understand. Yes, sir.”

He shut his phone and put it in his pocket, frowning. “I’ll give you the records when we get back inside,” he said. “As for who was here—well, the whole late-night shift, of course. They’re spread pretty thin, but most of the patients are fast asleep anyway. So who else? Elsa Hogue worked late. So did Luke Daconto.”

“What was he doing, giving midnight concerts?” Sunny said in bafflement.

“All the therapists have paperwork.” Rafe shrugged. “Ask them about it.”

“Anyone else?” Will asked.

“One funny thing,” Rafe said. “They paged Dr. Gavrik but weren’t sure whether she would show. It was her day off. Dr. Reese came bombing in and told me to get the number for the on-call doctor, but then Dr. Gavrik arrived. It was around three in the morning, but she didn’t drive up in her car. I saw it on one of the security camera screens. She got out of a town car. And you know how people look when they jump out of bed? She didn’t look that way.”

Will leaned forward on the bench. “You mean, she looked like she’d already been awake?”

“She looked like she’d been out,” Rafe said. “She was wearing a good suit, which she doesn’t usually do when she comes in here.”

Sunny slowly nodded, remembering the light jade number she’d noticed on the doctor. She’d thought it was awfully dressy for that time of night, but Rafe had been more observant. “It was rumpled, as though she’d been sitting in it for a long time. Longer than just a ride in a town car.” He shook his head, looking a little less sure. “And something else. When she came in, I thought I saw some kind of airline ticket in the pocket of her jacket.” He touched his chest. “Up here. But when she left, it was gone.”

Will glanced over at Sunny. “You think she could’ve taken a red-eye flight in from somewhere?”

She shook her head, confident in the knowledge gained from working at MAX for more than a year. “Not one that came in through Pease. The latest arrivals there are around ten thirty at night.”

“And you’re sure about the time?” Will asked Rafe.

“It was definitely after three a.m. That’s when Mr. Scatterwell got sick.”

Sunny shared a look with Will. Well, there’s something else to check.

Rafe finished his soda and crumpled up the paper wrapping from his sandwich. Sunny noticed that half his sandwich was still in there. Had this conversation killed his appetite, or was he penny-pinching, saving something for later?

“Technically, I don’t start for a couple of minutes,” the guard said, “so I’ll get the sign-in and make copies for you.”

They went to the security desk, and Rafe brought out a loose-leaf binder. “I’ll help photocopy,” Will offered, walking off with him.

Making sure nothing gets lost along the way, Sunny realized.

She stood waiting by the guard’s station when a familiar figure in ginger and black fur crept into sight. “Portia!” Sunny leaned down to run a gentle hand between the cat’s ears. “How are you today?”

Portia seemed upset—maybe she’d picked up on Rafe’s feelings when he stepped behind the desk. She wasn’t happy climbing all over Sunny’s feet. She stretched up to rest her paws on Sunny’s knees, meowing.