Ethics of a Thief (7 page)

“Is she alive?” Randy called out.

“Don’t know yet.” After he tried to open the back door without success, he tried the front. It took time, but he finally got it open enough to climb into the front seat. He reached for the woman’s pulse. After retreating from the front seat, he yelled, “She’s alive, but unconscious. There are two males, a driver and passenger.” Randy reached for the pulse of the driver. He smiled. “He’s alive.” He took the male passenger’s hand and checked his pulse. Randy took a deep breath. He bowed his head and silently prayed.

Within a short time, Jim reached the taxi with a stretcher. They pried open the back passenger door and carefully pulled out the limp body of the woman. They secured her in the stretcher and slowly moved up the mountain. When they reached the street, a new van was there waiting. They placed the woman inside and watched as the paramedics quickly started an I.V. for her.

Randy moved fast, back down the wet, slippery mountainside. When he returned to the taxi, he re-checked the pulse of the male passenger -- there was still no pulse.
No matter how often I do this job, I hate this part.
His throat felt tight.

When Jim came down to the taxi again, Randy shook his head as he crawled out of the back seat.

“Well, this one’s gone. We need to call the coroner.”

Jim asked, “Was he wearing his seatbelt?”

“No, but I noticed that the woman’s belt was on tight. That’s what saved her life.”

Jim shook his head, slowly. “They never learn, do they?”

Randy quickly returned to the front seat. “My God! He is so young, he’s just a kid. His legs are pinned, hand me a crowbar.”

“Can we get him out?”

“I think so. When I pull up the dashboard with the crowbar, lift him out.

“Randy, you need to move the seat back as far as possible. It’ll give us more room to release his legs.”

“Good idea. That might help.” Randy reached around the young man and lifted the lever. The back of the front seat lowered. He reached under the front seat and then pushed the seat as far back as he could.

“He looks pretty bad. He’s in shock, his eyes are open, but he’s not responding.”

Together, they worked by moving the driver, inch by inch, away from the metal pinning his legs. Finally, he was free, and they lifted him to the stretcher. Once secured, they slowly carried him up the hill. Randy’s footing slipped so he dug the side of his work boot into the ground. Once back in control, they advanced up the mountain. When they reached the van, Jim called the coroner.

Jim drove as fast as weather permitted while the paramedics did their job. When they reached the hospital, the young man was taken into the emergency room. The doctors worked on the driver for hours before he was placed in the recovery room, but he remained in critical condition.

Randy found the admitting doctor to inquire as to the progress of the woman. He said the CAT scan didn’t reveal any severe internal signs of injury, but she still remained in a coma.

The coroner’s office found the man’s wallet. His name was David Glover. They also found the woman’s purse and her wallet. Her name was Alisa Glover, but the two passengers had different addresses. The police department arranged to notify the nearest of kin. They discovered that the woman had an address book. They called the phone number next to Mom.

Steven Wilson sat comfortably in his parents’ living room, talking with his father, John, when the phone rang. John got up, went into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “Hello.”

Steven heard his father say, “The police department? What happened? Are you sure? When? Are you sure it’s my Alisa Glover?” John dropped the phone and leaned against the wall.

Within seconds, Steven grabbed the phone. “Who is this? You were speaking to my father. What’s going on here?”

“I’m sorry. But, we have unpleasant news,” the policeman’s voice was solemn. “There’s been a tragic car accident. It occurred in Hawaii. Mrs. Alisa Glover is in a coma.”

“Where’s David?”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Glover didn’t make it.” Steven doubled over and was unable to speak. He forced himself to regain his composure and asked, “Are you sure? My parents just spoke with her. When did this happen?”

“Eleven o’clock this morning.”

“Where is she?”

“At the Hawaii Memorial Hospital,” the officer said, and then he gave the phone number, address and the admitting doctor’s name and phone number. “You can call and receive updates.” He felt as if the life had been sucked out of him. It was hard for Steven to breathe.

“My name is Sergeant Thomas Loo. We need to reach David Glover’s family. We noticed he had a different address; were David and Alisa sister and brother?

“No. Husband and wife. They just renewed their marriage after being separated for a while.”

“Can I get the name and phone number of his parents?”

“Yes. I’ll have to call you back. My mother isn’t here, and she has their phone number.” Steven wrote down the sergeant’s information.

It took a while for Steven to get his father settled down in the living room. John sat, his eyes low as he whispered, “I can’t believe it. It can’t be true. We just talked to her last night. Now, he’s dead and she’s in a coma.” He looked up at Steven and stared.

They heard the back door open and close. “It’s Mother. You have to tell her. I can’t move right now. Please, Steven. Go talk to her.”

Slowly, he walked toward the kitchen. He saw her short, heavy frame holding an armful of flowers from her garden. She wore her favorite sundress with her apron over it for protection. When she saw him, she smiled and revealed her dimples.

Elizabeth placed the flowers in the sink. She looked for and found a vase. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

After putting water in the vase, she carefully arranged each flower.

She searched her son’s face and said, “Are you all right? You look dreadful.”

He sat on a kitchen chair and motioned for her to join him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay? What’s wrong, Son? Is Dad alright?”

“Dad’s fine. He’s in the living room. But, Mother, please come and sit. We need to talk.”

Her eyes were as round as her face. “Are the grandchildren okay? Did something happen to Lisa or Danny?”

“They’re fine. Mother, please, come sit.”

“You’re scaring me, Son.” She wobbled toward the table, pulled out a chair and sat. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“We just got a call from the police department.”

“Did something happen to Abigail or Alisa? What happened?” Tears started to well in her eyes. “Oh my God, what happened?”

Steven told her about the car accident, Alisa’s coma and David’s death.

“But, that can’t be. We just talked last night. Everything seemed fine. My God. How could she be in a coma? That’s not possible -- it can’t be so. When, Steven?”

“Today, late morning. The sergeant said it happened around eleven.”

His heart hurt to see his mother’s anguish. At the same time, he felt guilty for being glad it wasn’t Alisa who died. He wondered if his mother was having the same thoughts.

Tears streamed down her face. Steven stood and walked behind her to embrace her.

“I just can’t believe this. David’s dead? Does his mother know?”

“The sergeant asked for her phone number, so I doubt she was notified. I’ll call the police department later with her number.”

Quickly, she stood. “Does Dad know?” Steven nodded. Elizabeth staggered into the living room weeping. “John. I can’t believe our Alisa is in a coma.” She knelt on the floor before him and placed her head on his lap as she cried. He patted her head without speaking. His tears ran down his cheeks as he listened to his wife sob.

Not knowing what to do to help, Steven decided to find his mother’s personal phonebook. First, he checked their bedroom without luck. Then, he looked in the living room and saw it on a table. He looked up the number for David’s mother, wrote it down, went into the kitchen and called the police department.

When he returned to his parents, he said, “I called the police. David’s family was notified. So, I called David’s brother, Bruce. He said his mother didn’t know yet. She’s still at work.”

Elizabeth got up and walked to the phone, called and spoke to her pastor. “This is Elizabeth Wilson.” Silence. “Not good.” Tears fell as she told the man what happened. “Please ask our church family to pray for Alisa and David’s family.” Silence. “Thank you.” She placed the phone back in its cradle.

Next, she phoned the hospital. Steven stood by his mother’s side during her short conversation. She hung up. “There’s no change in Alisa’s condition.” Her sad eyes glanced at her son. “The doctor on duty will call back within an hour.”

For the first time, Steven knew what it felt like to be powerless.

When they returned to the living room, Elizabeth paced. “Were there any other cars involved? What did the policeman say?”

“The sergeant didn’t give me any details.”

John looked down at his hands. “All I know is they were in a taxi. Bad weather. The driver hit his breaks. They saw the skid marks. Apparently, the driver lost control, and they rolled down a mountain.”

They sat in silence.

“Mom, when I spoke with Bruce, he said he didn’t want to be alone when his mother heard about David. He was crying. He asked if we would go over before she gets home.” He searched his mother’s eyes.

“I’m not sure. John, are you up to that? I don’t want to leave you home alone. Do you think you can make it?” She turned to her son. “What time is Ruth expected home?”

“Around five-thirty.”

“John, what do you think? Want to go?”

“I can’t be alone right now.” He stood and slowly walked toward the hall.

Elizabeth called Bruce and told him how deeply sorry she was to hear about David. She said they would be there by five o’clock with dinner. Before hanging up, she said, “You must be crushed to hear about your brother. You were so close.”

When John came back into the room, he sat next to Elizabeth on the sofa.

“It’s all set,” she said. “We’re bringing dinner. He expects us over by five.”

“Is Bruce living with his mother?” Steven asked.

“Yes. He was trying to save money -- wants to buy a home.”

Elizabeth stood abruptly and said, “My God, has anyone called Abigail and the kids?”

“Are they back in town?” Steven asked.

“Yes. Yesterday. I’m expecting them for dinner. I’ll call her.” Elizabeth looked weary and sat back on the couch.

“How do we tell the kids?” John asked.

“I’ll call,” Steven said and jumped to his feet. He went into the kitchen, grabbed the phone and dialed. “I hate to tell her,” he said, as the phone rang.

When she didn’t answer, he felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. “She’s not home, so I called her cell. I left a message on both phones.”

“That’s odd.” Elizabeth’s forehead had lines, she looked at the floor. “They should be home by now.” She looked up. “If she’s driving, she can’t answer. Maybe they’re on their way over.”

“When did you last hear from her?”

“Yesterday. They were on their way to the yacht club to eat.”

“Do you think she changed her mind?”

“No. She was in San Diego when she called.”

His sister’s predictability annoyed Steven. “Don’t worry. I’ll track her down.”

Her dimples revealed to him her gratitude. Within minutes, she stood and walked into the kitchen to start working on the evening meal for the Glovers.

“Can I get anything at the store?”

“No, but thanks. I have what I need.”

He saw the sadness in his mother’s eyes. He walked over, turned her around and held her. She wept.

Elizabeth pulled away and returned to dinner preparation.

“I love you, Mom.”

She choked with emotion and nodded.

He started his search for Abigail. First, he called Carry English, her best friend since childhood. She wasn’t home, so he left a message. “Mom, what hotel did they stay at?”

“Don’t bother calling.” Her voice rose, “I told you! Abigail’s in town. She was taking the children to eat at the yacht club yesterday.”

When they returned to the library to search for the mysterious object, Abigail noticed Matt’s brow lines and saw his mouth turn down. She wondered if he felt upset about being a murder suspect, or becoming a kidnapper. He glanced up and noticed her eyeing him. Her eyes darted away.

After looking at him again, she saw a blanket of weariness come over him. He seemed almost sad, as if he was longing for something.
Get a grip! Abigail, you can’t read his mind.
She bent to pick up a book. “Well, I’ll be --,” she said.

Matt turned to watch her. “Did you find something interesting?”

She chuckled, “This book might be a treasure to me, but it’s not what you’re looking for. I know the author, that’s all. He was a personal friend of my grandfather, so it brings back memories.”

“Are they alive?”

“My grandparents? No, I wish they were. I miss them terribly. They were wonderful people.” She scanned the book. “My grandfather was an evangelist. At times, my grandmother traveled with him and played the piano and sang.”

“Did you visit them much?”

“Often, my grandmother and I would sit side by side for hours playing the piano and singing, mostly from the Psalms.”

“Psalms. What are Psalms?”

She let out a loud laugh. “Most of my friends are Christians, so it didn’t occur to me that you might not know what Psalms are.”

He turned his back toward her.

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to be offensive. Psalms are a poetic book from the Bible. They were written by King David.”

Matt gave her a silent glare.

Later, Abigail sat on the sofa and glanced over at Matt. He seemed mentally preoccupied. “Is something wrong? Did my laughing offend you that much?”

“No. That’s not it. Just racking my brain to figure out who murdered the Kilgores. Who do you think did it?” Matt walked over and sat on the couch next to her.

It surprised her he wanted her opinion, “I don’t know. Perhaps your friend Jack?”