The dying five, p.4
The Dying Five, page 4
“Was Elaine at the party as Eric’s plus one, or in some other capacity?” Talia asked.
“I’m not sure,” Shana said. “But something definitely went down because when I went back to get my coat, some of the investors were whispering and looking out the window. It was like they knew Elaine was angry and left, but I didn’t’ think any of them had witnessed the argument. It was very odd.” Shana started to say something, but then took a long pause. “So, in the Uber, I asked Eric about the money. He told me he didn’t know what I was talking about, and that he’d check on Monday. I knew he wasn’t being straight with me, but he’d just had a blow up with Elaine, and I didn’t want to push. I thought it could wait. Then, and this makes me think I’m crazy, when I went into work today to finish some overdue reports, that money...it was gone. I searched the account history for the deposit notation, and it’s like it was never there.”
Mary’s face lit up. “I knew it, the money. Do you think Eric was dirty?”
Shana’s eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not. Eric was a good man. He believed in his mission at Green Playscapes and had made quite a name for himself in the green industry. We were all proud of the work we did, and were happy to come to work each day, knowing we were making a difference. We’re a family.”
“We’re a family, too,” Mary said, smiling at the other TD5 members. Stephen coughed in disagreement. “And we are going to help you find out who killed Eric.”
“We are?” Shelly asked, obviously uncertain about how we might do that.
“Shana,” I said, trying to take over and steer the ship. “We do have some special skill sets that could be of help to you. And if we don’t succeed, we can provide you support. You don’t have to feel alone.”
“I appreciate that. I could use some friends right now,” Shana said. Charles squeezed her shoulder. “What do you mean by special skills, though? Pop Pop said you’re, well, sort of a secret group, and you’re all...” Shana didn’t finish.
“We’re The Dying Five!” Mary exclaimed.
Shana smiled. “Pop Pop has spoken highly of all of you.”
“Not all of us, I’m sure,” Stephen said.
Charles chuckled. “Yes, even you, Stephen. You’ve been quite clear about how talented and special you are, and I’ve made sure everyone knows.” Stephen turned his face to the side, probably to hide his eyeroll.
Shana sat straight up in her chair. “There’s something else. I don’t know what it means, but Eric did tell me something before he died.”
“What, what was it?” Mary insisted, getting her notebook and pen back out. She fiddled with her phone and pressed record again.
“When I was with Eric, when he was shot, he, um, he didn’t die right away.” Shana choked out the words. “He kept trying to talk. I couldn’t understand him at first. Finally, I made it out. He said, ‘He knows everything’. But maybe he was, you know, out of his mind at that point.”
“Who is ‘He’?” Mary and Talia said simultaneously.
“I have no idea. But Eric also managed to tell me to get his laptop from the office. Everything was such a blur, with the police and all, so I didn’t check for his laptop until I went into the office today to finish the reports.”
“What was on his laptop? Were you able to get access?” Stephen said, finally engaged in the conversation, likely figuring he could break into the laptop if Shana couldn’t.
“That’s the weird thing. He always kept it in his desk drawer. It’s where he put it at the end of the workday. But it wasn’t there. I looked all around his office, but it was gone.”
Chapter Seven
New Leader Note
I have your attention now, don’t I? There we were, a murder on our hands, and five dying people ready to start solving it. Even Stephen. See what I did there? Even Stephen. I may have to work with Stephen on his social skills. If friendliness is blood, Stephen is a turnip.
The van ride home after the meeting with Shana was lively for five terminally ill folks who were exhausted from a two-hour meeting about murder. They discussed the roles they would play to figure out who killed Eric and why. Stephen explained how he was going to break into Eric’s email, and Talia talked about visiting her friends at Legal Earth. Before we left, Shelly had set up a ruse with Shana to be Green Playscape’s new “senior intern”. Mary shared her plan to write her nephew a letter with the clues she had so far to see what he had to say about the case. Charles stayed behind at Shana’s and had arranged for Marj to pack their bags. They’d decided to stay at Shana’s house to provide emotional support.
New leader reader, this is serious business. Are you up for the task? It takes, ahem, the kahunas of a dying person to approach these dire circumstances with courage and a “can do” attitude. If you don’t have it in you, stay away from the murder situations. There’s plenty of other good energy for TD5 to put out into the world. Direct them to situations you’re comfortable with. You have been warned.
What was my role, you ask? But what you’re really asking is what would your role have been if you were me? Good question. My job in TD5 was to stay on top of the wellbeing of the members. I facilitated their care, checked in on them often, and made sure they had all they needed to have a quality end-of-life. Sometimes their bodies didn’t cooperate, or their minds started to go, but they held on tightly to what they could do. Although I'm the leader, TD5 shared the support load. When one of them was weak, or had a bad day, the others would rally. It’s a beautiful thing to watch.
I’m not being completely transparent with you. Not yet. What my role was and what it ended up being were two completely different things. See, I knew things about the individual TD5 members that they didn’t know about each other. I had my suspicions early on, which, I’m proud to say, checked out. There were also things about them that shocked me. You’ll find out. As the leader, we have some advantages. We’re “in the know” more than TD5 members realize. Use your knowledge and power judiciously, though, new leader, so that you’re a part of the solution, not part of the problem. And stay humble. There’s always something to learn.
Part II
TD5 Is on The Case
We’re born and we die,
You’re allowed to cry,
But I’m having fun,
And then there were none.
-Mary Sams, TD5 (2022)
Chapter Eight
My Dearest Nephew,
You will not believe the case we have! It’s The Pelican Brief all over again. I re-read it last night to make sure. Now, judges haven’t been assassinated, so I don’t want you thinking I’m in over my head. I know you’d be concerned about your old Aunt Mary. But let’s face it, if I was murdered as part of this investigation, not yet knowing who the culprits are, I mean, how exciting! I do hope you’d investigate my murder, sweet John.
Back to the case at hand. It’s quite intriguing. The CEO of a new environmental company was shot on his front stoop, and his accountant, the granddaughter of one of our own TD5 members, was at the scene. And before you ask, I don’t think she did it. She has an alibi, given she was in the same car (an Uber?) when the shots were fired right into his chest. What I don’t know is if she was somehow involved. Think about it, John. If Shana (the granddaughter) knew exactly what time Eric (the CEO) was going to arrive home, then she could have sent a message to the murderer they were about to arrive.
But then there’s the wife, Elaine. She and Eric argued at the party earlier in the evening. At least that is what Shana told us. Which makes me wonder if Shana was throwing suspicion onto Elaine. No one else witnessed the fight. She said Elaine left the party with their car, and that’s why they had to share an Uber. I guess that information would be pretty easy to confirm. Surely a valet or someone saw Elaine leave in the car in a huff.
But, the money, John! That’s the thing here. Shana told us there was a million and a half in their company’s account before Eric was killed, and now it’s gone. That’s a lot of loot. Even for you, I bet. Sounds like motive to me. But now that I think about it, why would Shana have mentioned the money if she’d planned on taking it?
In the throes of Eric’s final moments, he told Shana “He knows” and “Get my laptop”. Shana says she doesn’t know who “He” is, and that Eric’s laptop was gone when she went to retrieve it. Suspicious, no?
I’m hoping you’ll be thinking about these clues and perhaps write me back with some of your thoughts. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we solved this together, just you and me? I don’t want to step on the toes of my dying friends, but we know who the real crime-solvers here are, don’t we John? We also know how much faster we’d get this solved than the police, right John?
Of course, you’re wondering what my next move is. I’ve been thinking about what you’d suggest, so I’ve decided to interview Shana on my own again for more detail. I hope I can rule her out as a suspect, John, because I do cherish my friendship with Charles. He’s a very nice man.
All my love,
Your Adoring Aunt Mary
Chapter Nine
Stephen scanned the many monitors in his office, trying to piece together what he knew so far. Something wasn’t right about Shana’s story. It was filled with holes. First, it seemed unlikely there wasn’t some sort of paper trail for that large sum in the Green Playscapes account. Even someone with basic skills could trace account numbers and find offshore accounts. No, Shana ignored where the money came from, and there was a reason for that. She suspected something she wasn’t saying. Grant funding was easily traced, too. She wasn’t going to pull that one over on Stephen. He was way too sophisticated for such games. Second, Shana ran into gun fire, and the Uber driver stuck around? What kind of driver does that? Stephen made a note to hack into Shana’s phone to see if she’d ordered the Uber and find out the driver’s name.
He opened his file code named “XKJ-3N7-T8E”. In it, he’d put everything he’d found about Green Playscapes, Eric Graham, Shana Jackson, Legal Earth, Elaine Higgins, her firm Higgins, Coben, & King, Scott Patterson, and other company investors and influencers of record. Just for giggles, Stephen did an extensive background search on Charles. He didn’t find much outside of Charles’ awards for EMT of the year (five years in a row from ‘99-’04), his marriage license (Marjorie Stewart, m. 1972), and the paramedic reports from calls that made it into the paper. Charles had no social media or any other kind of online presence. It’s not that he suspected Charles of anything untoward, but still, one cannot be too thorough.
What was particularly interesting was the part about how Elaine Higgins, wife of Eric Graham, had become a partner at the law firm. The timing didn’t make sense, as Talia hinted in their meeting with Shana. Legal Earth was handling all Green Playscapes’ EPA paperwork pro bono, then suddenly, before the paperwork had even been filed, Elaine Higgins became the attorney of record, and she got bumped up to partner. She’d only been with the firm a few years, which seemed quick to Stephen, unless she’d brought on a major client with deep pockets. And Green Playscapes wasn’t that.
Stephen opened his file with the personal financial records of Eric Graham and Elaine Higgins. They kept separate accounts. Nothing too exciting in either one. They lived in a nice but modest house in the suburb of Fishers, also kept a condo downtown in the gentrified area of Fountain Square, where millennials were snapping up and renovating the area to death. They had two dogs at the main house named Poopoo and Peepee (vet records), and a cat named Cat at the apartment (no records- but the cat appeared in the window on Google Earth). Eric drove a late model Hybrid Camry and Elaine drove a BMW SUV. Eric’s salary was reasonable. Elaine made typical money for a law firm partner. Nothing appeared shady, financially, on the surface, at least. Stephen had just begun his digging, and there could be other accounts to find.
Something had to be wrong with these people, though. Who gives their pets such ridiculous names? Pets made a mess and Stephen would never.
He sat back in his office chair and looked out his floor-to-ceiling window. He pushed his glasses up his nose and smoothed his hair. His eyes rested on the group of trees across the street, a lot he’d also bought so he could have a view and privacy. He’d given some thought to moving to a smaller place further out of town, but he was afraid someone would come after him someday and living in the country would make him a wide-open target. Some of the work he did wasn’t always on the up and up, which is why he had cameras everywhere, both on his property, and facing his property from his lot across the street. Fifteen years he’d lived here, and nothing had happened yet except a few squirrels tripping his alarms. But there was a first time for everything. Nefarious people he’d worked with in the past could be around the corner at any moment, ready to take him down.
Stephen scanned the Higgins, Coben, and King client list. Ah, there he was. Scott Peterson, a client of Elaine Higgins. This guy was a common piece to the puzzle. That would explain her expedient rise to the top. Eric must have introduced Scott to Elaine. Given Peterson’s vast wealth, Elaine taking him on as a client would certainly get her a partnership quickly.
Stephen was good at getting information. He was good at nearly everything except people. His three wives all left him, even with prenups. They didn’t get a penny, any of them. He was still in touch with only one, Madelyn, because she was also in tech and was sometimes useful to him. She understood her role in his life, and she didn’t need his money or affection. They got along well after they were divorced. The other two exes remarried, thankfully, because they’d both asked him for money for years after separating. Laying guilt trips on Stephen didn’t work. He never gave them anything, and they finally found other cash cows to hitch. Good riddance.
Stephen had already begun orchestrating the next moves for TD5. He knew exactly what to do and that TD5 couldn’t solve this without him. He just had to keep them at arm’s length, so they didn’t suspect him for what he really was.
Chapter Ten
Shelly pulled her shawl around her shoulders. She peeked at the Green Playscapes thermostat. It was set at 65 degrees. Why did they have to keep it so cold in these high-tech offices? The governor's office thermostat had always been under her control, and she’d kept it at a toasty 75 degrees. No one seemed to notice as they bustled in and out. Shelly would sit nice and warm at her desk all day, which gave her the opportunity to observe what happened there. She knew everything the governor and his people did, and she’d take it to her grave. Most of it, anyway.
“Are you chilly?” Shana asked Shelly, noticing the shawl. “Being energy conscious around here, we tend to keep it cool.”
Shelly shook her head. “I’ll be fine, thank you. Now, show me how your system works.”
Shana pulled up the software tutorial at the desk next to hers, where Shelly would make her residence for a couple of weeks as the new “Silver Intern”, a program they’d made up as her cover. Stephen had created a legitimate-looking website and Talia crafted some paperwork for Shana to present to Elaine, who was now running Green Playscapes virtually from her law office. Shana had told Elaine her Pop Pop told her about the program, and Green Playscapes needed the extra hands, and had offered to train Shelly. Since Shelly’s services would be free, Elaine readily agreed. Anything to help the aging population stay active, she’d said, although she barely looked at the paperwork.
Shelly couldn’t believe how accounting had changed since she’d been with the governor’s office. It took her a lot longer than she’d expected to learn the software system. She only needed to know enough to be dangerous, as her real role was to be the eyes and ears in the office. Shelly was smarter than people gave her credit for, and having worked in politics for all those years, she’d cultivated keen spying skills.
Shana had walked Shelly around the office to meet everyone. It was a small start-up, so it only took about ten minutes. Besides Shana, there was Skip Carson, the marketing guy, Heather Fullerton, the chemist, (she wasn’t a regular chemist, but Shelly didn’t recall the exact kind), and Mark Kim, who’d been promoted to operations manager to run things onsite for Elaine. Shelly prided herself on being a good judge of character. You had to be, having worked in the governor’s office for thirty years. The shifty eyes, the changes in voice pitch when someone was lying, and the fidgeting hands when you caught an intern doing something naughty; she knew all the signs. Shelly thoughtfully cataloged her initial impressions of the team members for her Situation Room report. Her mental rolodex was superb.
Skip was lazy, Shelly noticed that right off the bat. When she rolled by his desk, which she did frequently since his cubicle was near the restroom, he was either playing online poker or watching a sporting event on his phone. Heather Fullerton was cute but a little nerdy for Shelly’s taste. Shelly didn’t understand scientists all that much and wasn’t sure how she’d engage Heather in a conversation, so she talked about her grandkids. Heather’s tortoise shell glasses were too big for her face, and her long black bangs fell into her eyes. Seeing the eyes was important, so Shelly had some difficulty with a gut reaction. Also, Heather didn’t stand when Shelly greeted her, which was a check mark in the negative column. Heather and Mark were the only ones who had offices, because Green Playscapes used what Shana referred to as “a fishbowl set-up”, which Shelly found supremely annoying. People should have offices with doors and privacy. Or maybe that was just her opinion from having had her well-appointed office at the governor’s office for thirty years. These newfangled places. Everyone was in each other’s business.
