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Lorna Werner. Linda Turner. Close enough for a woman with a fading memory to respond to. But not so close as to be recognizable. Smart choice.
Marc peeked through the glass pane on the closed door. Linda Turner was moving around, talking to herself as she sniffed some bright yellow mums that were arranged in a vase on her windowsill. He wished he could make out her words. But he couldn’t take any more risks than he already had.
A quick glance around the room’s interior.
Mostly institutional. The only personal touches were the numerous vases of flowers and a young girl’s soccer jersey hanging on the wall.
If Marc harbored even a shadow of a doubt before, he didn’t now.
Five minutes later, he was in his car, on his cell phone and on his way back to the brownstone.
By the time Marc walked into the office, Ryan was already in high gear, and pages were being spit out on the laser printer. Hero was sitting beside the printer, barking to let Ryan know that his results were coming through.
“It’s amazing what can be done with the right information,” Ryan informed Marc. “A simple name. Lorna Werner. And suddenly I have the medical data the FBI is trying to track down from before Linda’s move to Sunny Gardens. Her combination of medications. The dosages. Her doctor. Her pharmacy. I hacked into the Sunny Gardens system, no problem. I’ve got a record of when Lorna Werner was admitted. Just one short month ago. Until then, she was being treated independently.”
“Does it say who admitted her?” Marc asked.
“Nope. The system has just basic specs logged in. No details.”
“Well, I gave you all the details I could possibly dig up. The ball’s in your court now.”
“You mentioned vases of flowers in her room.” Casey was perched at the edge of Ryan’s desk, having mulled over Marc’s covert excursion and picked out what she recognized as the highlights. “The grounds of Linda’s house were neglected, but it was obvious that there was once an extensive garden there. And the lake behind the house was covered with weeds. I’d be willing to bet that, before Anna died, it was surrounded by flowers.”
“Your point?” Marc asked.
“You said that some of the patients spent the afternoon sitting in the gardens. I’d be willing to bet that’s where we’d find Linda…Lorna.”
“Makes sense.” Marc nodded.
“And that’s where Gecko and I come in.” Ryan leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head. “It’s time for me to become CATV guy. When I’m done with my little black box, we’ll have a live feed from Sunny Gardens’ video cameras streaming straight to our office. And if Linda Turner spends her time in the garden, we’ll be watching.”
“I only half got that,” Marc said. “Then again, that’s usually the case when you talk geek-speak. I’ll be here for whatever. Let’s just hope our accomplice shows up for the closed-circuit video show.”
“She will,” Casey said. “She’ll have to touch base with Linda. Because no matter who did the actual kidnapping, Linda is emotionally attached to Krissy, even if she’s not physically with her. She’ll need to feel connected. And the only person who can offer her that is her accomplice. She?
??s Linda’s stand-in. She’s probably paying herself a healthy chunk—say, two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars—to oversee Krissy. The one thing we don’t know is just how ill Linda is, and how far gone her mind and memories are. It could be that her accomplice is manipulating her. For all we know, Linda thinks Krissy is somewhere at Sunny Gardens, right nearby. This is all conjecture. We’ve got to get at the truth.”
“Next question,” Marc inserted, addressing the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. “When do we call Peg and the FBI task force?”
“Not now, we don’t,” Ryan responded quickly. “I need time to get some answers. Once we have those, you can tell the task force whatever you want.”
“This is going to be tricky—and tight,” Casey murmured. “I’m sure the task force is only a few steps behind us, and that’s only because of the red tape of having to get warrants. Once they get them, they’re going to storm Sunny Gardens like gang-busters, looking for Linda Turner. And, if she’s not clearheaded enough, that could ruin any chance of finding out about her accomplice.”
“Yeah, and if that accomplice knows that Linda’s been made, we can kiss finding her goodbye.”
“She’s our only link to Krissy,” Casey said fervently. “I won’t let her get away. Ryan, plan on leaving for Sunny Gardens at the crack of dawn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Day Seven
Early-morning sunlight was peeking through the trees when Ryan’s van pulled up the road to Sunny Gardens. Like Marc, he left a healthy distance between his car and the facility, parking in a dirt alcove amid a wooded area where his van could blend right in. Later, he’d make a more public appearance.
The good news was that construction workers began at dawn. So when Ryan trudged across the grounds in his dirt-stained jeans and white T-shirt, carrying a large toolbox, no one gave him a second look.
He went around back, as Marc had instructed, and, also as Marc had surmised, the delivery door was unlocked. It was daytime. Security measures were more lax. And deliveries were more plentiful.
He went straight down to his destination: the basement. It didn’t take him long to navigate the various wiring and network connections, or to locate the video distribution feed that led to the main nurses’ station.
