Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green

Chapter

25





Eleven Days


Tommy hoped the perfect weather in Rochester, Minnesota, portended that something good would come of his meeting with Jody Melnick. Instead of the drenching rain that had greeted him on his last visit, a few puffy white clouds dotted the crystalline blue sky and the temperature stayed at seventy-two degrees. He’d finally reached Jody last night. She wasn’t certain her information would be helpful but had agreed to meet with him the next day when her shift ended. Tommy had caught the first plane out in the morning and now waited for her in the hospital cafeteria.

“Mr. Noorland?”

Tommy looked up and saw a middle-aged woman in starched white scrubs. Her name tag read “Jody Melnick, R.N.” “Ms. Melnick,” he said as he stood up and extended his hand to shake hers. “Thank you so much for meeting with me. And please call me Tommy. You sounded a little cryptic on the phone.”

“And call me Jody. I appreciate you coming out to speak to me in person. I hesitated to call at all. Trudy and I worked closely together for many years. I wouldn’t want to get her in trouble. I can’t even be sure we’re talking about the same girl.”

“Why don’t we sit down? Can I get you something to eat? A cup of coffee maybe?”

Jody shook her head. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning? Tell me why you think you know something about Angelina Calhoun.”

“Well, Trudy and Ed never had children of their own. Trudy worked with me as a surgical nurse. We weren’t friends outside the hospital, but you know how it is. When you work with someone a long time, you talk to each other about things. Only some things Trudy never talked about. Oh dear, I think I’m rambling already.”

Tommy patted her hand. “It’s okay, dear. You tell the story any way you want.”

“Well, as I said, Trudy and Ed had been married for ten years or so and never had any children. Then one day Trudy calls in sick at the last minute—really, she should already have started her shift. We had to scramble to find a replacement. But she said a family emergency had come up. A full week passed before she came back, and when she did she told everyone that her sister and brother-in-law had been killed in a car crash. Their daughter survived and had come to live with Trudy and Ed. I thought it peculiar then, because Trudy had never mentioned a sister. Trudy missed a lot of work after that, for a few years at least. She said the niece had lingering injuries from the accident and she took time off to get her treatment. I remember asking how old her niece was, you know, when the accident happened. And Trudy said four years old. Wasn’t that the age of the little girl you’re asking about?”

“Yes, about that. Do you know the name of her niece?”

“Sunshine. I always remembered that because it was such an unusual name.”

“And her last name?”

“Well, that’s the strange thing. She should have had the last name of Trudy’s brother-in-law, but she didn’t. She used Trudy and Ed’s last name. Harrington. And whenever Trudy brought her to our annual picnic, Sunshine would call her Mommy.”

“Did she look like the girl in the picture on the flier?”

“Well, years passed before Trudy actually took her anyplace public. I’d always assumed it was because of her injuries. So when I first saw Sunshine, she must have been around six or seven years old. But yes, I think there’s a similarity. It was a long time ago, so I’m not absolutely certain. But I think so.”

“Is Trudy still working here?”

“No. She retired a few years ago. I think she lived in Byron. At least she did when she worked here. Maybe human resources can give you her address.”

Tommy thanked Jody profusely. Finally, a solid lead. After Jody left, he took out his cell phone and dialed information. “Do you have a listing for Edward or Trudy Harrington in Byron, Minnesota?” he asked the operator.

“There’s a Trudy Harrington on Aspen Road.”

“I’ll take that—and before you go, do you have a house number?”

“It’s 4. Hold on and I’ll connect you.”

The phone rang twice and a computer voice came on. “The number you have reached is disconnected. Please try again or check your number for accuracy.”

“Damn.”

But at least now he had a name. He decided to see if Dr. Jeffreys was available and rode the elevator to his floor. He walked down the hallway in the direction he remembered and opened the outer door to the secretary’s desk. “Any chance Dr. Jeffreys is in?” he asked the young woman sitting there.

“He’s off today.”

“Can you reach him at home? It’s important.”

The young woman studied him. “You’re the investigator who was here last week, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“About the little girl?”

“Right.”

“Dr. Jeffreys is at a medical conference in Paris. He’ll be back in two days. Normally, he doesn’t work on Sundays, but he plans on coming in to check on his patients and catch up with paperwork. Can it wait?”

Tommy put on his most winsome smile. “I wish it could, sweetheart, but I really need to speak to him. Can you give him a call?”

The secretary looked at her watch. “It’s after 8 there. I could try his hotel, but he’s probably out to dinner by now. And his cell doesn’t work overseas.”

“What’s your name?”

“Mandy.”

“Mandy, I need to see if you have records of a little girl treated here twenty years ago. Is there any way you can help me with that? I have a release from the girl’s biological and legal father.” George took a copy of the release from his briefcase and handed it to Mandy.

Mandy looked it over. “Is this the girl’s last name? Calhoun?”

“No. It would be Harrington. Sunshine Harrington.”

“Well, to begin with, I wouldn’t have access to that database. But I don’t think anyone will do a search for you without proof that the person who signed the release is her father.”

“And who does have authority to access the database?”

“Probably Mr. Oxblood. He’s the executive director of the hospital. But he’s out, too. His father passed away two days ago. The wake is going on now and the funeral is tomorrow, so he’ll be back on Monday. And don’t even ask. I wouldn’t dream of disturbing him during this time.”

“Who’s covering for Dr. Jeffreys while he’s away?”

“That would be Dr. Burroughs, but she wouldn’t okay a search of the database without Mr. Oxblood’s go-ahead. And neither would Dr. Jeffreys. Not with the name on the release being different.”

Tommy understood that getting angry wouldn’t get him anywhere. As difficult as it was, he needed to be patient. There were other avenues he could pursue in the meantime. “Okay, Mandy. Can you get me in to see Dr. Jeffreys first thing in the morning when he gets back?”

Mandy penciled him in for 8 a.m., before the doctor would begin his rounds.

If Tommy was right, he didn’t need to call Helen at Vital Records or Abby at County Community Services. It seemed that Angelina hadn’t succumbed to the leukemia, so there wouldn’t be a death certificate. And he didn’t think anyone had turned her over to foster care. If he couldn’t get anywhere with his search, he’d double back to both places and have them check the name of Sunshine Harrington. But he suspected that the person who found Angelina Calhoun at the Mayo Clinic, alone and frightened, was Trudy Harrington, on her way to work. He figured she’d read the records tied around Angelina’s waist and made an instant decision: She would take care of this child, get treatment for her and raise her and love her as her own daughter. Dani may have had George Calhoun pegged from the start after all. Damn, I must be losing my touch. Now he needed to find Trudy Harrington to confirm his theory.

The hour was getting late and he was tired. He decided to call it a night and take a drive out to Byron the next day to poke around and see what he could find.


After his morning stop at Dunkin Donuts, Tommy found a bookstore that had street maps for Olmsted County. He mapped out a route to Aspen Road, got in his car and thirty minutes later stood in front of the beige, vinyl-sided house at 4 Aspen Road. After he knocked on the door and received no response, he walked to the front window nearest the door. Curtains covered the windows, but it appeared that no lights were on inside. He walked to the back of the house and still saw no evidence of movement. Well, this is what legwork is about. He walked to the house to the right of No. 4, identical in all respects except the color, and knocked on the front door. A young woman, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, opened the door, and Tommy could see two toddlers sitting on the floor inside, hunched over toy trucks and making vroom sounds.

“Yeah?”

“Excuse me, miss. I’m looking for the folks who live next door,” Tommy said as he pointed to the beige house.

“What about?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Well, I can’t help you anyway. I’m just a baby sitter.”

Tommy thanked her and moved on to the next house. A middle-aged woman dressed in casual pants and a loose-fitting sweater answered the door with a bright smile.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m looking for Trudy Harrington. She lives at No. 4 over there. Do you know where I might find her?”

The woman’s smile disappeared. “Are you a friend?”

“No, ma’am. I’m an investigator and it’s urgent I find her or her husband.”

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, they’re both deceased. Ed passed away a number of years ago, but Trudy just died recently, maybe ten or so days ago.”

Tommy’s face dropped. “Do you know their daughter?”

“Sunshine?”

“Yes, I need to find her.”

“Can I ask what this is about?”

“It concerns an inheritance.”

“Her daughter was just here, for the funeral, I assume. I wasn’t really friends with Trudy, just knew her to say ‘hello’ to.” The woman pointed to a home across the street. “The woman who lives there was friendly with Trudy, I think. Her name is Laura Devine. She might know something about Sunshine’s whereabouts. But she works on Saturdays. I usually see her car in the driveway around 6.”

Tommy thanked her and moved on. His years of investigation work taught him that it was often painstaking. He knocked at each of the homes along Aspen Road. The street was in the process of turning over from families who had lived there for decades to new families seeking their first home in the suburbs. Where someone answered his knock, the newcomers knew little about the family at 4 Aspen Road. Older residents weren’t able to tell him much more than he’d already learned. He made a note to come back that evening to speak to Laura. Nothing more could be done until then.


At exactly seven o’clock, Tommy knocked on Laura Devine’s front door.

“Hi.”

“Ms. Devine, my name is Tommy Noorland.”

“You’re the investigator, right?”

Tommy nodded.

“My neighbor told me about you. I figured you’d come back to find me. I’m really the only one of Trudy’s friends left. There were a whole bunch of us from the block who were close when our children were young, but you know how it is. The kids grow up, the parents move on. Winters are so hard here that a lot of folks head to warmer areas when they retire. I’ve still got a few years to go, but you can be sure I’ll be heading to Phoenix when I’m done. Come on in. I’ve got a pot of coffee just made. Can I get you a cup?”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

Laura led Tommy into her kitchen, which clearly had never been remodeled. Tommy guessed the homes on Aspen Road had been built in the early ’70s, when ornate dark-wood cabinets were in vogue, along with avocado-green appliances and linoleum tile floors. He took a seat at the table. Laura brought over two mugs of coffee, along with cream and sugar, and sat across from him.

“So, what’s this about?”

“It involves an inheritance.”

Laura reached behind her to the formica counter and grabbed a pack of cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Go right ahead.”

She walked to the stove and lighted a cigarette with a gas burner. After two long, deep puffs, she put out the cigarette and turned back to Tommy. “Sorry, every now and then I just need a few drags. I’m trying to quit. I figure if I don’t finish them, eventually I’ll be able to give it up entirely. I started with six puffs and now I’m down to two. Pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Let’s talk now about what you’re really here for. I doubt it’s about an inheritance. Neither Trudy or Ed had any siblings, and their parents are long gone.”

“It’s nothing that anyone’s in trouble for.”

“You’ve got to give me more than that.”

Tommy sized up the woman. His years in the field taught him to do that—make snap decisions about whom he could and couldn’t trust. He didn’t see a downside to being honest with her. He’d reached a dead end anyway, so he told her about George, about his upcoming execution, and about his claim that he’d left Angelina at the Mayo Clinic. As he spoke, Laura didn’t say a word, just listened intently. “So, yesterday, I met with a nurse over at the Mayo Clinic, and she says Trudy suddenly showed up one day with a four-year-old, claimed it was her niece whose parents had just been killed in a car crash. And she says the little girl was injured or sick or something. Now, here I am, trying to find out if Sunshine Harrington is really Angelina Calhoun.”

Laura took another cigarette out of her pack. “I need another drag to process what you’ve just said. I almost found it more believable that you were here about an inheritance except you couldn’t have made up a story like that.”

“You now know everything I know.”

“Well, I may be able to help a little, but that’s all. I moved here when Sunny was about 8. I remember because she’s a year younger than my daughter. She seemed perfectly healthy all the time I knew her. She got married a few years ago, to a medical student. They moved away from here when he finished school, I guess for his internship or residency. I don’t remember which. Trudy may have told me where, but frankly I don’t remember. And if she told me her son-in-law’s name, I don’t remember that either. I saw Sunny last week, when she was here for her mother’s funeral, but we never talked about where she lived now. Oh, and she has a daughter. Rachel. She’s almost 3. Trudy never told me she adopted Sunny, so whether she could be your Angelina Calhoun, I have no idea.”

“Do you know any of Trudy’s friends? Anyone she might have confided in?”

“There was one woman, Nancy Ferguson, used to live right next door to her. She moved away four or five years after I bought this house. They were real tight. Nancy was here last week, too. I’m pretty sure she handled the funeral arrangements.”

“Do you know where Nancy lives now?”

“Up in Minneapolis.”

“And her husband’s name?”

“Gone. Left ten years ago. She and Trudy used to travel together, since both were singles.”

“That’s a help.”

“If Trudy confided in anyone, it would be Nancy. Find her and you may get your answer.”

Tommy thanked her and left. Before he pulled away, he called information. There were two Nancy Fergusons in Minneapolis and one in a nearby suburb. Tommy reached two by telephone, neither of whom knew Trudy Harrington. At the third number, he got a machine. He left a message, stressed the urgency of a return call and headed back to his hotel, where he planned to get good and drunk.


The ringing of Tommy’s telephone woke him. The bedside clock read 8:30. “Shit.” He’d missed his 8 a.m. appointment with Jeffreys. Normally an early riser, he shook himself awake and grabbed his cell phone.

“Hello.” His voice sounded thick.

“Mr. Noorland? This is Mandy, Dr. Jeffrey’s assistant. You had an appointment with him at eight this morning.”

“Mandy, I screwed up and overslept. I can get there in thirty minutes. Any chance he can squeeze me in?”

“He’s got appointments all morning. But I told him what you were looking for and he said he could squeeze you in at lunchtime, say around 12:30?”

“You’re a sweetheart. I’ll be there.”

His head ached from tying one on last night, something he hadn’t done in years. When he was at the Bureau, the guys would go out drinking on Friday nights, and he always downed quite a few those evenings. He left that behind when he joined HIPP. He shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. He brushed his teeth while the room steamed up and then stepped into the tub. The hot water streaming down his face and body felt good, and gradually the ache in his head subsided.

He’d expected to see Dr. Jeffreys first and then drive up to Minneapolis. There wasn’t enough time to reverse the order. He’d just have to wait to try to find Nancy Ferguson. He tried calling the third number one more time and still got only her voice mail.

Before he knew it, the morning had disappeared and he made his way to the Mayo Clinic. He arrived with time to spare for his meeting with Dr. Jeffreys. Mandy ushered him into the office with a promise that the doctor would be back soon. She was good to her word. Five minutes later, Dr. Jeffreys walked in.

“Sorry about this morning, doc. I appreciate you rescheduling.”

“Not a problem. Sorry you had to wait two days. So tell me, how does Sunshine Harrington fit in with Angelina Calhoun?”

Tommy filled him in on his conversation with Jody. “So there’s a real possibility they’re the same person.”

“It’s possible. The problem I have is getting around the patient privacy laws.”

“I’ve got the signed release from her father.”

“Yes, but we don’t know he’s her father. And won’t know unless I show you her file, which gets us back to the privacy problem.”

Tommy thought for a moment. “Were the privacy laws in effect twenty years ago?”

Dr. Jeffreys hesitated. “Probably not as federal law, as it is now. But we still had a policy of respecting a patient’s privacy.”

“We know that Angelina was treated for leukemia back in Pennsylvania. If Sunshine’s the same age and was treated for the same thing, isn’t it probable that they’re the same person?”

“Leukemia is pretty generic. And it’s the most common cancer in young children.”

“Wait a minute.” Tommy opened his briefcase and riffled through a copy of the medical records for Angelina Calhoun that he’d received from Dr. Samson. “Here it is. She had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, pre-B-cell. Does that help?”

“Actually, it does. Pre-B-cell is a less common form.”

Tommy handed Dr. Jeffreys a stack of papers. “These are copies of her medical records from Pennsylvania. It shows her treatment before the cancer reoccurred.”

Dr. Jeffreys leafed through the papers.

“So how about it, Doc? Can you take a look and see if Sunshine Harrington was treated here? And if she matches up with Angelina’s records, can you share it with me?”

“I’ll check with our lawyers, but I think that should work. Why don’t you get back to me tomorrow?”

Tommy grimaced. “You know, most of the time when someone says, ‘Every minute counts,’ it’s bullshit, but in this case it’s true. If I’m right about Sunshine, then in nine days a man’s going to be executed for murdering someone who’s now married with a child of her own. I don’t want to live with that. You got to help me, Doc.”

“I’ll do my best. Give me a call at five o’clock.”


The drive to Minneapolis took a little over an hour. Tommy drove directly to the address he’d been given for the third Nancy Ferguson. The new-looking high-rise apartment building had no doorman and no security, something unheard of in New York City. He searched the mailboxes for her apartment number and then rode the elevator to the twelfth floor. He followed the winding corridor to her apartment and knocked. No answer. He banged harder. No answer, but this time he thought he heard a cat meow. She can’t be far gone if she left her cat behind.

As he’d done on Aspen Road, Tommy began knocking on her neighbors’ doors. He got lucky—or maybe it was unlucky—with the first one. The woman who answered the door knew Nancy Ferguson. “Nancy’s on a little trip right now,” she told Tommy. “I’m taking care of her cat for her. She’ll be back next week.”

“Do you have a number where you can reach her?”

“Well, I have her cell number, but she’s on a rafting trip, on the Colorado River. I don’t expect there would be cell service there. It’s something she always wanted to do but kept putting off. Then a good friend of hers died a week and a half ago and she said to me, ‘I’m not going to put anything off anymore. Life’s too short.’ She up and went, just like that.”

“If she calls you, would you give her my phone number? It’s extremely urgent that I speak to her as soon as possible.”

Tommy handed her his card and the woman looked it over. “As I said, I don’t expect to hear from her, but if I do, I’ll give her your message.”

One more dead end.

Just before five o’clock, Tommy dialed Dr. Jeffreys’s number. When Mandy answered, Tommy asked, “Is the Doc in?”

“He had an emergency come up, but he gave me a message for you. He got the go-ahead on searching the records, but because it’s so long ago, it’s not on the computer. One of the file clerks is doing a manual search, but so far—nothing. He’ll give you a call if he finds something.”

Tommy felt as if he was continuously butting up against a wall. Each morsel of information led to a dead end and further frustration. There wasn’t any more reason to stay in Minnesota. Time to go home.