The dying five, p.14
The Dying Five, page 14
I remained quiet. Rachel couldn’t possibly understand, and I didn’t have the energy at the moment to explain it to her. I knew from years of experience working with the dying, many of whom had cancer, that making choices like these aren’t as straightforward as they seemed to those around them. Yes, I was an otherwise healthy person. Yes, I was young. Yes, I was strong. And yes, I was starting to get scared.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Situation Room- Week 3 Investigation Report
We didn’t meet at The Situation Room, instead, we were all in Shana’s living room, so Charles didn’t have to travel. No one acknowledged it out loud, but Charles’ traveling days were over. He was stretched out in a new recliner Shana had bought for him that leaned all the way back so he could sleep. I knew Charles was declining; I’d recently seen the orders for increased home nursing visits. He and Marj had decided to stay at Shana’s until near the end, when they’d transport Charles to die at home, surrounded by his family and friends. Charles had made it clear he still wanted to be involved in TD5, because his brain still worked quite fine when the pain pills were doing their trick. We timed our visit about an hour into his dose of medication. He greeted us as the chipper Charles we all loved. Stephen walked over and gave him a light punch on the arm, telling him he expected his full attention during the meeting. They laughed together.
“Hey Stephen,” Charles said, “why did the eggs all break?”
Stephen, with a surprised look of someone who’d just noticed their fly was down, stammered and shrugged.
“Because they cracked each other up!” Charles laughed and held his abdomen with both hands to control the spasms. Stephen’s laugh came from his belly, too, loud and genuine. Stephen 2.0 was in the room. The scene made everyone in the room crack up like the eggs.
At Stephen’s house a couple of nights ago, Stephen and Shelly had asked me if they could tell their story to the group. After hearing what they had to say, I didn’t see any harm in it, and they could certainly tell it better than I. To keep things normal, I took attendance, and made sure everyone knew where the snacks were. Mary was munching on some crackers and chatting with Shana when I asked everyone to give Stephen the floor.
“I’ve got a great deal to say, but first I want to apologize. I have intentionally misled you about many things, but I was planning on asking for your forgiveness later, instead of asking your permission in advance. If you’re patient with me, I’ll explain everything, and you can make your own judgment. I will accept whatever you decide.” Charles lifted his recliner, so he was sitting upright. Mary stopped eating and got out her notebook. Shelly sat quietly, as if it were any other day. The group had no idea she’d been hiding some things, too.
“Please know I did this for what I believe are good reasons. If you’ll give me some latitude, I’ll get through it and you can ask whatever questions you want,” Stephen glanced at Mary as she tried to interrupt him. I imagined she had a thousand things swimming in her mind. She’d always suspected Stephen wasn’t on the up, and now some of her feelings would be confirmed.
“No worries, Stephen! I’ll record.” Mary got out her phone. I expected Stephen to object, but he nodded at Mary instead. Surprisingly, Mary didn’t immediately barrage him with questions. I wasn’t sure how this would go, but I was hoping for diplomacy.
“In 2015, I lost my sister Julie to ovarian cancer. We were very close, she was not only my sister, but my only friend. Our parents had long since died.” The group quietly voiced their sympathy for his losses, and he thanked them. “When Julie was in her last days, she told me a story about a group she was a member of called The Dying Five. She said it was a secret group of hospice patients who solved problems. Big problems. She also said it was the one thing that kept her going in her final year. At first, I wasn’t sure if the story she was telling me was from delirium brought on by her illness or medications. But her story was very detailed, and I realized she was telling me about a real group. She gave me names and places and mentioned it was funded by another secret group, The Columbarium. She didn’t know who they were. In Julie’s final moments, she made me promise I would watch out for TD5, make sure they were funded, and make sure they stayed in operation safely. At that time, I was involved in some high-risk anti-hacking schemes and needed to stay off mainstream radar. I put off looking for TD5 and The Columbarium, but I never forgot Julie’s request. A couple of years later, I started digging. And that’s when I found Shelly.”
Mary gasped. “Wait, what? You two have known each other all this time?” I knew Mary wouldn’t be able to hold back. This was everything a mystery novel would be. Deception, murder, smoke and mirrors, but this was real life. Mary was a kid in a candy store.
Shelly’s eyes met Stephen’s and he gave her a slight nod to go ahead. “My dear sweet Larry, he was one of the original Columbarium,” Shelly said. She paused while the group let this sink in. “There were three people who formed the trust. Larry, Pete Peterson, and Harold Moore. Pete was Scott Peterson’s father. He was a good man. Scott is a bad apple that fell far from a good tree. He took his father’s money and spent it recklessly, which partially explains what’s been happening. He’s nearly out of money and he needs more fast. Harold Moore was the husband of Georgia Moore, and as you know, Georgia is another investor in Green Playscapes. Scott didn’t pay much attention to the money from his father’s estate that was dedicated to The Columbarium trust, until recently.”
“It’s starting to make sense, what Elaine said the other day,” Shana interjected. “She told me Scott asked her about modifying The Columbarium trust. If he was having financial problems, he might have seen the trust as a way to get additional funds. It also explains the money that went missing from Green Playscapes. He wanted to modify the trust to put more money into the start-up for the quick payout from the scam, but Elaine couldn’t make it happen quickly. Then, when Eric was killed, and things went south, he had to cover his tracks by pulling his money out of Green Playscapes.”
“That’s part of the story,” Shelly said. “Scott was the one who got Georgia into the Green Playscapes deal. She had enough capital, and with his assurances that they’d get a fast payday by pushing out fraudulent EPA paperwork through Elaine, it didn’t take much convincing. Scott approached me with the same opportunity, to invest in Green Playscapes. I declined. Then he presented me with paperwork to modify the trust, but I refused. I knew Scott was up to no good. He got angry with me and called me repeatedly with veiled threats. I wanted to figure out what they were doing, because I didn’t want The Columbarium dragged into their scheme. So, I called Stephen to help.”
“Is TD5 in financial danger now, or could it fold because of those two, Scott and Georgia, wanting to pull out?” Mary asked, her voice cracking. Mary loved TD5. It was her dream, and she had to wait until the end of her life to see her dream come true.
“No,” Shelly said. “Thanks to Stephen, who is now a new investor in the trust, and my sweet Larry, who left plenty, the trust will never be in any financial danger, even if Scott and Georgia pulled out.” Mary sighed in relief.
“Stephen, you’re part of The Columbarium now?” Charles asked.
“A silent partner. I donate to Shelly’s public foundation, and she uses the money for Courseview and TD5.” Charles flashed a smile of appreciation. Stephen smiled back, a humble grin. Stephen? Humility? Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me. But no, this is Stephen 2.0.
“When I started looking into TD5, it didn’t take me long to trace The Columbarium investors. I didn’t even need to set up a sting.” Stephen winked at me. I didn’t return the sentiment. His condescension was Stephen 1.0 and I wasn’t going to play. “When I tracked Shelly down, I asked her to meet, and we agreed to stay in touch. Then the stuff with Peterson started happening, and Shelly called me, and here we are.”
“Wait a minute,” Charles said. “You have some serious holes to fill in that story, my friend. Why did you both decide to become members of TD5? And why keep us in the dark about who you were?”
“Let’s review the timeline,” Stephen said. “Shelly came on board right after Eric was killed. That was intentional. I knew Shana was your granddaughter, of course; I’d done my research on all of you. I joined earlier when I suspected Scott and Georgia were up to something nefarious, because if my sister’s stories were accurate, this really is a group of folks who could solve a problem. When Shelly came to me a few months ago and told me she’d been asked to invest in Green Playscapes and that she felt something was going on, we hatched a plan to work with TD5. At the time, we had no idea Eric would be murdered, or that we’d be trying to find his killer. We thought we’d be looking into a scam, not a murder. We needed the help of people who could move around and get information without being noticed. You all are perfect at that.”
“You still haven’t explained why you didn’t tell us from the beginning.” Charles was looking drowsy but was going to get his question answered before he nodded off.
“Well, first of all, I don’t have a terminal illness.” Stephen shifted his eyes to the floor in shame. This was difficult for him. He’d really grown fond of the group and the guilt of his secret was weighing on him.
“Stephen Capernella! How dare you lie to us and fake an illness!” Mary shouted, but immediately calmed. “I guess that’s all part of the game, though. It’s a game I know well. For many years I didn’t want people to know I was sick. It’s the opposite, but the same.”
“Thank you, Mary?” Stephen said as a question, unsure if she sided with him or not.
“How did you know Callie would recruit you?” Charles asked, his voice thick with suspicion.
“That was the easy part. No offense, Callie, but Shelly and I both had skill sets we knew you’d go for,” Stephen looked at me with an expression of mock innocence. “And I might have pushed our referrals to her caseload in the computer system.”
Charles returned Stephen’s mock innocence with mock horror. Then he chuckled and teasingly shook his finger at Stephen in pretend beratement.
“Okay, what’s second of all?” Charles was persistent.
Stephen coughed. “The reason I really needed you all. How do I put this?” Stephen pushed his glasses up his nose and smoothed his hair. “I’ve been involved with some nasty creatures over the course of my career. I figured none of you would readily accept someone like me in your group. I’m more the kind of person TD5 would investigate, not ask join in an investigation.”
Charles arched an eyebrow. “I see. I still think you should have given us a chance to decide.”
“I don’t disagree with you, Charles, but I couldn’t risk you all saying no. I needed boots on the ground, and I needed to remain in the shadows, behind the scenes, as much as possible. I have eyes on me.” I wondered if Mary thought more highly of Stephen now that he portrayed himself as an international man of mystery. “Then Eric was murdered, and the shell game took on an entirely different purpose. I figured if we found out who killed Eric, we’d solve the Green Playscapes fraud problem at the same time.”
“Speaking of which, who killed Eric Graham? Scott Peterson?” Mary asked. Stephen shrugged.
“It’s possible,” Shana said. “But he was still at home with witnesses when Eric was shot. The party was still going on. I suppose he could have put out a hit on him.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Mary said.
“What’s that?” Shana asked.
“We set a trap!” Mary said with growing excitement. “And I have just the plan.”
“Hold up a minute,” Shana said. “When I talked to Elaine, she said the buck didn’t stop with Scott. She was really scared. She said this thing goes higher and is more serious than we know.”
“Sweet girl, I know exactly what she’s talking about,” Shelly said. “You let me handle that.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
New Leader Note
It was getting hot in the kitchen, new leader. If you’re lucky, you won’t ever have a situation quite like this. Or maybe you’ll be lucky, and you will. Luck is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. With everything going down the way it did, I never found the right moment to tell TD5 about my own diagnosis. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell them, to be honest. I didn’t want the focus off the case and onto me, and I also wanted privacy to deliberate my options. What was interesting, though, was I was experiencing first-hand what it was like to be faced with the reality of death, my mortality knocking on the door, and having a crime to solve as a distraction, just like the official members of TD5. It really was life-affirming. It might sound ridiculous, but it’s the truth.
So many people give up on living, as I’m sure you understand, new leader, since you also work in hospice. Some don’t have much choice- too much pain, mobility issues, loss of cognitive function, and a host of other problems. At Courseview, we work hard to fulfill the final dreams of all our patients, I don’t want you to think all the energy goes to TD5, but this is the history book, so it will be centered on their story.
What I’m trying to say is, there is a delicate balance to maintain in this position. Supporting TD5, supporting the other hospice patients, taking care of yourself, and your family, if you have one. I didn’t want you to think, new leader, that the development of TD5 left Happy’s original design behind, which was to make wishes come true for all who walked, wheeled, or rolled into our doors at Courseview. She made it clear that all in the Courseview program were to be asked about their end-of-life wishes and yearnings and we should work hard to deliver. I’ll give you a couple of examples of non-TD5 folks’ wishes in case you’re curious.
Recently, I had a patient named Sam. Sam came to our program within a week of his death, bedridden and in a great deal of pain. Once we got him comfortable, and he was able to communicate more coherently, I asked him what he would want as his final wish. He told me a story. Sam was born and raised in a small village south of Paris, and he’d had some long-lost family members he’d not been in touch with since his late teens. He knew he didn’t have enough time to find them. He’d already tried. His grandchildren scoured social media with the little information he was able to provide them. We hired some savvy computer science grad students from the university who worked for reasonable rates, and they were able to find a couple of Sam's cousins days before he died. While the grad students worked their magic, we had Sam record a video for them, and the team sent it on to the cousins. The local family got in touch with me later, and said they were flying over to meet them and reestablish the connection. It’s what Sam would have wanted.
Another time, I think it was 2019, we had identical twin sisters. Both had gotten pancreatic cancer, at nearly the same time, and their final wish was to die together. I wasn’t sure at first how they’d die at the same time, but who am I to question the bond between twins? Anyway, we got it all ready. They shared a home after their husbands had died, and they had a beautiful garden their kids tended to when they’d both become unable to manage it. They wanted to die there, surrounded by their sunflowers and roses, and they wanted their kids to throw them a going away party immediately after. The sisters did not have any twin death magic. They’d both obtained lethal doses of phenobarbital and morphine. Don’t ask me where they got it. I’ll never tell. It didn’t feel wrong. What felt wrong was that this was yet to be legal in our state. But that’s a sidebar. After they both fell into eternal sleep, we had a lovely remembrance party. I’ll never forget that one unless this damn brain tumor causes my brain to turn traitor on me and I lose my memories. Anyway, it was beautiful, how the twins went, and my heart was full. The sisters were born together, and they died together. It doesn’t get more poetic than that.
So, you see, new leader reader, we can be so many things- companion, support, counselor, and friend. We let our patients lead us, and we join with them in this final leg of the journey. We never know where we’re going, but we always know it will end. How it ends is the difference, though, new leader. And you can help things end in wonderful ways.
Part III
The Traps
The road is long,
And time is brief,
Before too soon,
There will be relief.
- Julie Carpella TD5 (2015)
Chapter Thirty-Five
Shana turned her speakerphone for Stephen who kept all the recordings from the investigation. Elaine agreed to meet with Shana in the park for coffee. Shana wanted to make sure they had a private place to talk, and the park was part of the larger plan. Elaine looked tired and sad as she slumped next to Shana on the bench by the pond. Shana felt for her on the one hand, but on the other, she knew this would haunt Elaine for the rest of her life, and maybe it should.
“I know you told me to get away from this situation, but I cannot do that,” Shana kept her eyes fixed on Elaine’s. “We need your help, Elaine, to trap Eric’s killer. And before you ask, I cannot tell you who ‘we’ are, but just know we’re interested in getting to the truth and bringing Eric’s murderer, or those who conspired to murder him, to justice.” TD5 were banking on Elaine assuming the “we” was the Green Playscapes staff, all of whom loved Eric. If so, Shana was to let her believe it, because she would think they were harmless. If the police hadn’t made inroads, Elaine wouldn’t think a group of start-up staff would do much better.
Elaine looked defeated and Shana wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She pressed on. “I know you want to find Eric’s killer too. If it’s Scott Peterson, we know a way to find out.” Elaine’s face was blank. “We need you to call a meeting between you, Scott, and Georgia. Tell them you’ve got some news about Green Playscapes, and you want to discuss. And we need you to set up this meeting right here, at the park, tomorrow night.”
