Day 9 – Saturday late evening
Sixth Street, Austin
Jim was keeping his mouth shut and the drinks coming. Becky Peel leaned toward them across the table, her eyes on Ginny. “You saw the news this morning?”
Ginny nodded. “I saw the picture.”
“And I saw you researching my sister today when you were supposed to be paying attention in class.”
“I can multi-task.”
Becky smiled at her. “Okay. Why is he here?” She glanced over at Jim.
Ginny smiled. “This is my partner in crime. We’re working with the police to solve Phyllis’ murder.”
Jim smiled at Becky, trying to look useful. He watched her take another swallow of her drink, studying them.
“Can he keep his mouth shut? Can both of you? I don’t want Clara to end up like Phyllis.”
Jim felt his pulse quicken. “I can.” He cocked his head toward Ginny. “She’s a chatterbox.”
Ginny turned and punched him in the shoulder. “I am not!”
Becky laughed. “All right, you two. Knock it off.” They set the discussion aside as their dinners arrived. When they were finished, Becky looked at the two of them. “How about dessert at my house?”
“That sounds lovely,” Ginny said.
They got directions from their hostess, then worked their way south, down the interstate, over the river, and into a residential neighborhood lined with mature trees.
Becky closed the door behind them, then called to her sister. “Clara, I have someone I want you to meet.”
She emerged from a back room, her long, rangy legs accentuating her lanky form and blonde hair. She held out a hand to Ginny, then to him.
“Hi! I’m Clara Carpenter.”
Jim nearly dropped his teeth. If she hadn’t been so warm, he would have sworn he was shaking hands with a corpse. Ginny seemed to have known, but he hadn’t. Clara Carpenter was a dead ringer for Phyllis Kyle.
* * *
Saturday late evening
Peel residence, Austin
Ginny could sympathize with the shock she saw on Jim’s face. She, too, found the resemblance unnerving and she’d been prepared for it.
“Please, sit down.” Becky steered Jim over to the sofa, then sat down beside him. “Now you see why we’re concerned about this murder in Dallas.”
Clara nodded. “When I saw the announcement on the TV, I went into hiding. My first thought was that she was killed by mistake and the murderer was after me.”
Ginny leaned forward. “Why? Phyllis was killed in the Hillcrest ICU, on a night shift. Why would you think the killer would mistake someone in that position for you?”
Clara and Becky exchanged glances. Clara answered.
“Phyllis has been standing in for me, pretending to be me. We’re afraid someone followed her home.”
Ginny knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. “Phyllis was impersonating you?”
“Yes. So I could meet with some of the decision-makers without having to deal with protesters. I offered to pay her for it, but she refused. She said she was glad she could do something more useful than waving a placard at a TV camera.”
“How many times?” Jim asked.
“Eight, total.”
“How did you two meet?”
“At an ICU conference two years ago. We hit it off immediately and pretended to be twins. When this issue came up, she called me and asked if she could help.”
Ginny frowned. “Do you honestly believe you have enemies willing to murder you?”
Clara nodded. “There’s a great deal of money involved in this Mexican Nurse Pipeline. If it gets shut down, someone is going to be hurt, financially, I mean.” Clara frowned. “What I don’t understand is why they chose to kill her at work, rather than in some quiet alleyway. There are places in Texas lonely enough that she might never have been found.”
Ginny nodded, then explained her theory about the hired assassin choosing the Hillcrest ICU as a way to cover his tracks.
Jim nodded slowly. “Well, that part of it makes sense, but how did he plan to get in? The ICU is usually locked.”
Ginny shrugged. “Visitors come and go and I’m not sure anyone counts noses. Or maybe he planned to dress up as maintenance.” She turned back to Clara. “It’s been driving me crazy that I couldn’t find a motive for anyone who had access to Phyllis to want to kill her, but if it was a mistake—” She shrugged. “And that still doesn’t explain why they concluded you and she were the same person. Especially if you were seen together at an ICU conference.”
Becky nodded. “After we thought about it, we decided they didn’t. We think the murderer knew it was Phyllis, not Clara. We think she was the target.”
Ginny felt her skin crawl. “Why?”
Clara reached over and picked up a small booklet, handing it to Ginny. “Because of this.”
Ginny looked down to find the Texas Board of Nursing quarterly Bulletin in her hand. She glanced at the date, seeing that it was not the most recent issue. This was the one before, issued six months ago. She looked over at Clara. “What am I looking for?”
Clara opened the Bulletin to the featured article. “Here.”
Ginny read the headline, then the author’s name. Her eyebrows shot up. “Phyllis wrote this?”
Clara nodded. “I helped with some of the legal angles.”
Ginny read through the two-page article, her heart sinking. It was an argument against using vulnerable Mexican nationals in the illegal and deadly drug trafficking going on between Mexico and Texas. She looked at Clara. “Did she tell you how she got this information?”
“She said she had a friend among the pipeline nurses. Someone who wanted out.” Clara nodded at the Bulletin. “Those insider details, she didn’t get those from me.”
Ginny sucked in a deep breath. “I think I know who she got them from.” She turned to Becky. “If I give you an RN license number, can you see if it belongs to one of the pipeline nurses?”
Becky nodded. “I can probably find out, but not until Monday. Get me the number and a way to get back to you.”
“I can give you her name, too.”
“Even better.”
Clara leaned forward, her eyes troubled. “I absolutely hate the thought that Phyllis died because of me.”
“Even if this is what got her killed, it’s not your fault. Besides, it’s just a theory and there are others.” Ginny took a deep breath. “What happens now?”
Clara shrugged. “The vote is next week and, if that demonstration is any indication, it’s going to be ugly.”
Ginny hesitated. “Please don’t think I’m giving you orders, but I’m going to suggest you stay in hiding until this is over. If the opposition thinks you’re dead, they won’t come after you.”
Both Clara and Becky nodded.
“Okay. Now, I want to hear every single detail. From the beginning.”
It took an hour for Clara to describe the entire history of the problem, during which Becky fed them chocolate cake and ice cream.
“So, House Bill 1712 is proposing stricter controls on the use of foreign nurses in Texas.”
“Right.”
“And there are some powerful people in Austin (who prefer to remain anonymous) who have set up a way for Mexican nurses to come to Texas to work.”
Clara nodded. “All expenses paid. They agree to come in exchange for help with the NCLEX and the philanthropists behind the idea arrange all the necessary papers. Once the nurses get here, they’re supplied with housing and jobs.”
“And you know this how?”
Becky lifted an eyebrow. “There’s a woman at the Board who’s been bragging about it: how noble they are and how admirable it is to rescue these women and fill the need here at the same time.”
“I heard there’ve been some problems in Houston.”
“Yes. Some of these foreign nurses have made enough mistakes to attract official attention.”
“How do you know those nurses, the ones making mistakes, are part of this pipeline?”
“Timing, mostly. We tracked the official documents—immigration, licensure dates, and so forth—on the problem nurses and found they had all come over the border and been placed in long-term care facilities in batches.”
Becky interjected at this point. “When the Board started investigating, we found those particular long-term care facilities were all owned by either the same umbrella corporation or a sister version of it, all of the assets in holding companies. That caused some concern and we tried to dig deeper, but got stonewalled. Whoever is behind this has friends in high places.”
Clara resumed her tale. “So we decided to tighten up on the credentialing, which the Board has the power to do without the cooperation of the employers. But it meant obtaining a resolution from the legislature so we could reach the necessary records. This protest is just one of the ways they’ve tried to stop us. I’ve heard rumors of threats to legislators’ families, bribes to turn a blind eye, and suggestions that opponents will find their careers over.”
She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of people in this town who do an awful lot of good in the world, but I can’t help thinking that someone is using the do-gooders in Texas to do something that is not very good for the people of Texas.”
* * *