“House arrest, not jail, and apparently not very effective house arrest.”
Detective Rodriguez’s radio crackled with updates. Units were checking hospitals, nursing homes, anywhere Linda might have taken Mom. But with a several-hour head start, she could be anywhere within a two-hundred-mile radius.
“There’s something else,” Detective Rodriguez said. “Linda’s attorney posted her bail yesterday afternoon. Two hundred thousand dollars in cash.”
“Where would Linda get that kind of money?”
“Good question. We’re looking into that.”
We spent the next four hours at the police station making phone calls, reviewing security footage from traffic cameras, and trying to figure out where Linda might have taken Mom. Jason worked his computer magic, tracking Linda’s credit cards, checking her social media, looking for any digital footprints that might lead us to Mom.
At 6:30 a.m., my phone rang.
Unknown number.
“Carol, it’s me.”
“Mom. Oh my God. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. A little shaken up, but fine.”
“Where are you?”
“That’s complicated. I’m at Sunset Manor.”
The nursing home Linda had picked out for her. Sunset Manor, the high-end facility Linda had researched for the original plan.
“Are you hurt? Did she drug you?”
“She tried to bring me some tea with something in it, but I’ve learned to be suspicious of unexpected tea offerings.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled. Mom was developing a sense of humor about being targeted for chemical manipulation.
“How did you get away?”
“I didn’t. I’m still here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Linda didn’t kidnap me, Carol. I went with her voluntarily.”
The words did not make sense.
“What?”
“Linda called me around midnight crying, saying she needed to see me. Said she had information about Marcus Webb that could help the other victims, but she was afraid to tell the police because she didn’t trust them.”
“Mom, that’s exactly what someone planning to kidnap you would say.”
“I know. But she also said Paul was planning to kill me to keep me from testifying.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
“Kill you?”
“According to Linda, Paul figured out that the police were building a case against Marcus Webb based on my testimony and the evidence Jason found. She said he was planning to make my death look like an accident so the case would fall apart.”
“And you believed her?”
“I didn’t know what to believe. But I figured if Linda was lying, I could handle Linda. If Paul was planning to kill me, I needed to know about it.”
“So you went with her in the middle of the night to a nursing home.”
“She said it was the only place she could think of where we could talk privately. Somewhere Paul wouldn’t think to look for us.”
I looked at Detective Rodriguez, who was listening to every word. Her expression suggested this story was either completely brilliant or completely insane.
“Mom, where’s Linda now?”
“Talking to the police. She called them herself around five o’clock.”
“She what?”
“She turned herself in. Told them everything about Marcus Webb’s operation, about Paul’s plan to kill me, about who’s been funding her defense.”
“Who’s been funding her defense?”
“Marcus Webb himself. He’s been paying for high-end attorneys for all his clients who got caught, making sure they stay loyal and don’t expose his operation.”
The pieces were starting to fit together. Webb had been protecting his business by protecting the people who could destroy it.
“But why would Linda turn against him now?”
“Because she found out Paul wasn’t just planning to kill me. He was planning to kill her too.”
That stopped me cold.
“What?”
“Once I was dead and the case fell apart, Linda would be a liability. She knew too much about Webb’s operation. Paul figured it would be easier to eliminate all the witnesses than to risk exposure.”
“So Linda wasn’t trying to kidnap you. She was trying to protect you and herself.”
“Let’s not get too sentimental here.”
Fair point.
Linda was still the person who had tried to drug Mom and steal her house, but apparently she drew the line at murder.
“What happens now?”
“Now Linda cooperates fully with the investigation into Marcus Webb. She testifies against Paul and Dr. Peterson and whoever else was involved. And she probably goes to prison for a much shorter time than she would have otherwise.”
“And you?”
“I testify about what Linda told me about Paul’s plan. I help put Marcus Webb out of business permanently, and I go home.”
“Are you sure you’re safe, Carol?”
“I’m sitting in a nursing home with six police officers providing security while Linda gives her statement. I’m probably the safest eighty-five-year-old woman in the state right now.”
Two hours later, Mom walked out of Sunset Manor looking remarkably composed for someone who had spent the night uncovering a murder plot.
Linda walked out in handcuffs, but not the same defeated woman we had seen in court. She looked relieved, like someone who had finally stopped carrying a weight she could not handle.
“How are you doing?” I asked Mom.
“Better than I expected. It turns out facing your fears is easier when your fears involve concrete threats from specific people rather than vague anxieties about aging and dependency.”
“What do you mean?”
