fifty-one

The Health Associates regional manager, Marcia Melia, met Cheski and me at the elevator. One look at Cheski’s uniform, and Melia motioned us quickly down the hall. “I think maybe we’ll use the conference room,” she said as she hustled us away from the open workspace, but not before a few curious heads peered over a bank of cubicles. We followed Melia, an attractive woman in her late forties in a snuggly fit pencil skirt, into a conference room with no windows. Cheski nudged me in the ribs and raised his eyebrow as Melia leaned over to swipe the electronic lock on the conference room door.

Cheski was mildly distracted by Melia’s butt. I, on the other hand, was fixated on the ID hanging around her neck.

We took our seats and Cheski, using the same easygoing style he had exhibited at the food co-op, zeroed in on Melia’s sweet spot.

He put his hand in the middle of his chest and said, “Double bypass, two years ago, never saw a bill.”

Melia beamed. “We’re very proud to provide the police department with comprehensive coverage. How can I be of help?”

“We’d like you to look at a sketch of a person of interest,” he said. Melia nodded.

I opened my sketch pad to the second drawing I had done of the doughy man, the one with the thinning combover. I placed the pad on the table and spun it in Marcia Melia’s direction. Her flushed chest and crimson cheeks told me she could identify the doughy man by name, but instead Melia rolled her lips and rested her hand on her chin as if she really needed to think about the man’s identify. Unfortunately, the clock was ticking. Unless Gayle burst through the doors with a top hat and cane, singing “Hello My Baby,” we needed an answer.

“Do you recognize this man?” Cheski asked.

Melia adopted an indifferent frown and tossed her head from side to side.

“We believe his name begins with an L,” I interrupted, forcing Melia’s hand. I watched as she fiddled with her name tag.

“May I ask what this is about?”

“Think of it as a customer service issue,” Cheski said. Melia wouldn’t give.

I had an urge to cry uncle or checkmate or some other inane competitive cliché, but I held my tongue. Instead, I shifted forward in my chair until I could see Melia’s photo ID. “I’m assuming all HA employees have a photo ID?”

Cheski smiled and piggy-backed on my question. “Maybe it would be easier for us to look through your employee photos ourselves?”

Melia nodded slowly as she evaluated her limited options. “His name is Lonnie. Lonnie Drummond.” She cleared her throat and addressed Cheski. “I’ve been working here since high school. I started as a keyboard processor, and this job is very important to me.”

Cheski reached out his hand without actually touching Melia. “That’s why we came directly to you.” Man, he was full of it, but it seemed to be working.

Melia softened. “I’ve noticed some”—she paused—“discrepancies in our payments recently.”

“Do you think Mr. Drummond is embezzling money?” Cheski asked.

Melia shook her head. “No, that’s the problem. I’ve been around long enough to know when money is missing.”

“Then what is it?” I asked.

“This might sound odd, but I think Lonnie’s department may have …” She paused again and searched the windowless room for answers before continuing. “I can’t say for sure, but I think Lonnie’s department may have inadvertently paid out for services to members who had already passed away.” Melia appeared confused at her own discovery. “It’s ridiculous, of course. Why would a dead person require medical services? It’s most likely a computer issue, but I’m not a fan of loose ends, and I brought it up with Lonnie recently. He insisted the overlap was a timing thing, but he couldn’t provide proof. We had an argument about it recently.” Melia lowered her head.

“Could you be more specific?” I asked and then clarified, “Do you remember the day you argued? The exact date?”

Melia answered quickly. “The Monday before last. I remember losing sleep over it on a Sunday night. I promised myself I’d ask Lonnie to run an updated report first thing Monday morning.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I still haven’t received the report. I had to issue Lonnie a formal warning. In twenty years, I’ve never had to do that. I haven’t fired a single person, but I made it clear that he’d have to go if he kept up his behavior.”

Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow. Bob fell to his death on a Thursday, a few days after Marcia Melia threatened to fire Lonnie Drummond. Timing seemed to be a reoccurring theme in this case. I wondered if Lonnie was Bob’s inside man, his connection to the insurance industry. I also wondered if Bob and Lonnie’s last conversation had to do with Lonnie’s inability to deliver given his situation at work. It sounded like Marcia was a few key strokes away from figuring out that Lonnie had processed some rogue claims.

“Ms. Melia,” I said, “how is Lonnie’s health?”

“He does have some health issues,” Melia replied. “In fact, I reminded him of our generous health benefits when I read him the riot act. Let me tell you, he started to come around after that comment. If I remember correctly, he took a half day last week to get his head together.”

I didn’t need to ask. I knew Lonnie had taken a half day on a Thursday. Lonnie, a dialysis patient, couldn’t afford to lose this job.

“I’d like to meet Mr. Drummond,” Cheski said. Melia leaned back in her chair, her shoulders lowered as the tension released from her body. “He’s off-site today.”

“Doing what?” Cheski asked.

“We received an exploratory call for program services from the Sound View labs. Very short notice, but it’s a huge account. Lonnie is pitching the senior administrators on a full-service plan today, including dental.” She beamed. The commission on this one deal would keep Marcia Melia in designer skirts for years, I thought. “If Lonnie nails this account,” she continued, “it will be tough for me to stay mad at him.”

Cheski thanked Melia for her time and promised this would be resolved quickly. He handed her his card and asked that she call him immediately when Lonnie returned to work. The elevator opened, and as soon as the doors closed, Cheski blew a gasket.

“Everyone involved in this case is at the labs right now.” He started to tick off the players starting with his thumb. “Your non-birth daughter, your crazy-ass father, and now Lonnie Drummond, otherwise known as the doughy man. All of them are at the labs while we’re standing here.” Cheski heaved his stocky frame through the elevator doors and jogged to the car.

I stayed in the elevator, my face in hands. Up until this point, I had never experienced a maternal moment, but all I could think about was how many ways I would punish Gayle if she came out of this alive. It was a ridiculous thought, as I had never even met Gayle. However, now, I understood how a parent could experience anger and fear for their child at the same time. What the hell was she thinking? Why hadn’t she come home when she realized the situation had escalated? Was she too young to truly comprehend what had happened to Bob? Or was it even simpler than that? Was Gayle merely a scared teenager, nervous about the punishment her father might dole out? Lost computer privileges? No more trips to the mall?

“CeCe,” Cheski said when I caught up with him, “this is getting weird.”

“Ya think?” I said as I jogged alongside him. About halfway to our car, Cheski stopped hard and bent over.

“Your heart?”

Cheski waved me away. “I’m fine. I lied about the heart bypass to get Melia to talk. It’s something else,” he said as he straightened up and dialed his phone. “Frank,” Cheski breathed heavily into the phone. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure Cheski’s nonexistent heart condition was a ruse. “Did you speak to the security guard that spotted CeCe’s father?” Cheski asked Frank. I inched closer to hear Frank’s response.

“Actually, a female assistant called it in,” Frank replied, but before he could continue, Cheski cut him off and explained where Lonnie Drummond was about to spend the afternoon.

“There is no security guard,” Cheski said. “It’s a setup. I’ll bet you won’t find the female assistant either. Someone arranged to have all of these people on the Sound View campus at the same time.”