Another Chance (A Penelope Chance Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “What do you mean someone returned your belongings? Someone from the police department? They caught the guys?”

  Why hadn’t Donny phoned to let her know something had come up? He’d promised to call—night or day. Why had she been left out of the loop?

  “No, I don’t think so. When Belinda arrived this morning, she found a package addressed to me at the front door. She called, and I asked her to open it.”

  “Addressed to you?”

  “Well, it had my name written on it. Belinda thought it might be important. That’s why she called.”

  None of this made sense. If the police had found anything, they would have logged it into evidence and then notified the owner.

  “And it contained everything that was stolen yesterday?” Penelope asked.

  “Yeah, everything. When Belinda told me what was inside, I called Genny and she gave me a ride on her way into work.”

  Penelope closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You called Nurse Taylor? Why didn’t you wake me? I would have given you a ride.”

  “Because, I knew Genny would either be getting ready or she would be on her way into work . . . and I knew you worked late last night. I wanted you to get a few more hours of sleep.”

  Penelope grabbed her overnight bag from the guest closet, clamped the phone between her shoulder with her cheek, and began to pull out clothes. “Don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”

  As she got dressed, she processed the information. Something didn’t fit. She added it to the puzzle that was slowly forming in her mind.

  Who had returned Jacob’s belongings and why?

  There had to be more to the robbery than a simple smash and grab for narcotics.

  CHAPTER 20

  Penelope’s cell phone rang to life as she got into her car. She glanced at the caller ID. “Donny, I was just about to—”

  “Chance, you got a minute?” he interrupted. There was a strange edge to Donny’s usually casual voice.

  “Sure, I was just about to call you. I’ve got some new evid—”

  “About that, Chance. I know you’re close to this case because of the doc’s injuries, but I’m wondering if you’re too close.” Donny paused as if he thought Penelope would interject or argue, but she bit her tongue, and when she didn’t speak, he said, “Penelope? You still there?”

  “Yes, Donny. I’m still here,” she said as neutrally as possible. Inside she was screaming. She couldn’t get shut out—not now. “Why is this coming up now? You seemed fine last night.”

  “Look, Penelope, you know I’d love nothing more than to work with you on this. You’re a great cop with great instincts . . .”

  “So what’s the problem?” Penelope interrupted.

  “Detective Ballard found out the doc is your fiancé, and he has expressed some concern about you shadowing me on this case.”

  “Wait, I thought you said you weren’t working this case.”

  “Ballard asked if I could assist . . . paperwork and phone calls mostly.”

  “Well, then you should know Jacob’s belongings were returned today.”

  “Returned?” Penelope could almost hear the wheels turning in the detective’s head. “What do you mean returned? Where were they? Who found them?”

  “Belinda Crowe, the office manager at the Franklin Clinic. She found an envelope addressed to Jacob when she opened the clinic this morning.”

  “Addressed to him personally?”

  “Yep. She called Jacob and then Jacob called me.”

  “I’ll send a uniform over to take statements and collect the evidence.”

  “I’m on my way there now. I can take preliminary statements, bag the evidence, and drop it off in a couple of hours. You going to be around?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I’ll let Ballard know that your involvement will be kept to a minimum.” There was an awkward silence before Donny finally asked, “So, we’re all good then?”

  “We’re good, Donny.” Penelope ended the call and tossed the phone in her purse. She’d been coping with the stress of Jacob being shot by rushing headlong into a case she wasn’t supposed to be investigating.

  Donny was right.

  This case did hit too close to home. Maybe it would be best for her to focus on other things—like planning her wedding.

  CHAPTER 21

  Penelope pulled into the Franklin Clinic lot and parked in a spot labeled Jacob Gordon, M.D., near the front of the building. The former Presbyterian church looked more like a holiday lodge than a clinic, with its peaked roof and four stone pillars.

  She grabbed her spare evidence kit and walked through the lobby to the reception desk, where Belinda’s auburn hair, cropped in a pixie cut, was visible above the computer monitor. A royal blue chunky necklace matched her vibrantly painted fingernails, which flashed across the keyboard. She looked up and stopped typing at once.

  “Morning, Penelope,” she said, flashing her infectious smile.

  “Morning, Belinda.”

  “How are you holding up? I can’t believe Dr. Gordon was shot!”

  The words sent shivers down Penelope’s spine. How am I holding up? Not well at all. She plastered a business smile on her face and refused to show emotion.

  “I didn’t hear the news until this morning,” Belinda continued. “I used to work there. I can’t imagine what I would have done.”

  Penelope nodded politely. “Jacob said you found his wallet?”

  “And his watch and cell phone too,” Belinda said, opening a drawer of her desk. Do you want them? Dr. Gordon said you’d be by and he had me put them in a plastic bag.”

  “Not yet. I’ll grab them on my way out. Is he here?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. He’s in his office. Nurse Taylor is checking his head wound and changing the bandage on his shoulder. He was banged up pretty bad, huh?”

  Penelope offered a polite smile as she walked through the double swinging doors marked Staff Only and into the administrative area of the clinic. The faint smells of floor polish, printer toner, and coffee wafted in the air. As she walked down the short hallway, she passed two offices and only one window. The lack of sunlight left the narrow corridor dark. Fluorescent lights were set in the ceiling at regular intervals, but they could never replace the natural light. She focused on her breathing instead of the fact that the walls seemed to be closing in.

  Stay focused, Penny.

  At the end of the hallway were two additional rooms—Jacob’s office and the break room. Penelope knocked twice on Jacob’s door, waited for a reply, and then pushed the door open.

  Jacob sat at his desk. His shirt was off, and Nurse Taylor hovered over him. Her fingers quickly worked on his bandages. Penelope’s chest constricted. She didn’t like seeing Jacob hurt. She also didn’t like seeing him being taken care of by another woman.

  Was she jealous? She’d had the same reaction the previous day with Nurse “Bunny.” Why was she feeling these feelings? She had no reason to be jealous. “That’s my man,” she wanted to say, but she swallowed her words before she put her foot in her mouth.

  Genevieve Taylor was a capable nurse and one of Jacob’s closest friends. They’d served in Afghanistan together. Bonds like those held fast. Jacob had been a combat surgeon, and Genevieve “Genny” Taylor had been a flight medic. She flew into battle in a helicopter to pick up wounded soldiers and bring them home.

  During a pick-up, Taylor’s team got caught in enemy crossfire, and she took a bullet to the chest. They managed to get her back on the helicopter, but everyone was sure she was going to die. If it hadn’t been for Dr. Gordon, she might have. He saved her life on the operating table, pulling her through against all odds. They were friends before, but that incident had brought them closer. There was nothing as strong as a friendship that grew out of a near-death experience.

  Penelope took a deep breath.

  Jacob would always have friends like that, even when they were married. She had a different pa
rt of him, even though Nurse Taylor often said, “He touched my heart.” It was a joke. She died on the operating table, and Jacob massaged her heart back to life with his hands. Well, Jacob might have literally touched Genny’s heart, but he had romantically won Penelope’s.

  Jacob was honorably discharged from the U.S. Army and took over at the Franklin Clinic in 2009. Nurse Taylor was the first person he had called to help staff the facility, and she’d moved from her home in Baton Rouge. “I would do anything and go anywhere for this man,” she’d often said.

  Penelope shook her head.

  She had to snap out of the jealous fiancée routine. Everyone could do with more friends like Genny Taylor. It must be the stress of the trial and almost losing Jacob.

  Penelope looked Jacob up and down, noting his uncomfortable posture. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? You’re not looking too well.”

  Jacob gave her a half smile. “Thanks, Penny. Just what a guy wants to hear.”

  “He had a black eye and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t something serious,” Taylor said, giving Penelope a smile.

  “Genny noticed it when she picked me up this morning.” He turned his head toward Taylor and gave her a wink and a smile. “Am I going to live?”

  “I think you’ll survive.”

  It wasn’t surprising that Taylor didn’t express much sympathy for Jacob’s injuries. The dedicated nurse practitioner was focused on her job, and she was good at what she did.

  “Well, let’s get your stuff,” Penelope said. “I’m taking you back to my place. I want to make up for not checking on you the rest of the night.”

  “Thanks, Penny, but Dr. Bishop pulled an all-nighter helping out with a multi-car accident on State Road 20 last night. I’m going to stick around here for a while.”

  She looked him in the eye and saw he wasn’t going to fold. Usually, she admired his work ethic, but today she felt it was getting in the way of his wellbeing. “I could make you some of my garlic chicken soup.”

  “I know you’re worried about me, Penny. But I’ve had much worse injuries than this. This isn’t my first concussion or even the first time I’ve been shot.” His eyes were earnest. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then let me go to work,” he said with a warm smile. “I love your soup, but I’ll go stir crazy if I spend another minute in bed.”

  Penelope flashed a look at Genny.

  The nurse’s brown eyes met Penelope’s and she smiled a smile that was neither warm nor cold. “Don’t worry, Penelope,” she said, flicking her shoulder length hair away from her face. “I’ll make sure he behaves.”

  No one could get Jacob to do anything he didn’t want to do, even if it was for his own sake.

  “Okay,” Penelope finally conceded and then asked, “What about your car? Is it still at Grace Memorial?”

  “It is . . .”

  “At least let me take you to get it. I can drop you off on my way to the Gainesville station.”

  “Deal.” Jacob extended his right hand as if to shake on it, then grimaced and clutched his shoulder. He looked up at Penelope’s concerned face. “I can still drive, you know.”

  “With one hand?”

  “It’s just a little stiff. I’m not taking any pain medication.”

  Penelope sighed. “Let’s grab your stuff.”

  “Sure. Belinda has it up at the front desk.”

  Nurse Taylor excused herself and Penelope helped Jacob put his shirt back on. He took her hand and together they walked to the reception area.

  CHAPTER 22

  Belinda had just finished a phone call, and Penelope asked, “Can I grab Jacob’s belongings?” She may have been a touch rude, but she needed to get everything to the Gainesville forensics team for processing.

  “Yes, of course.” Belinda fished the belongings from the bottom drawer of her desk and handed Penelope a clear plastic bag.

  Penelope emptied the wallet, cell phone, and watch onto the desk. Jacob reached for the watch and she grabbed him by the wrist. “Hold on Jacob, that’s evidence.”

  “Oh, yes . . . of course. Sorry, Penny.”

  Penelope removed a pair of blue nitrile gloves from her evidence kit. “Belinda, did anyone else touch these or just you?”

  “No one touched them, and I used gloves.”

  “You did?”

  “I told her to,” Jacob said. “When she told me what was inside the envelope, I asked her not to touch anything and to put everything into a plastic bag.”

  “That was good thinking.” Penelope picked up the wallet and handed it to Jacob. “Can you see if anything’s missing?”

  “Don’t you want to dust it for prints first?” he asked in a teasing tone.

  Penelope stared at him with her best cop’s stare. He smiled and picked up the wallet, holding it carefully by the edges. He opened it and pulled out the contents, laying them on the counter next to his watch and cell phone.

  Penelope flipped open her notepad and looked at Belinda expectantly. “Were you the first person to arrive at the clinic today?”

  “I usually open the clinic in the morning. Some mornings Nurse Taylor opens up, but it was my turn today. The envelope was sitting there right in front of the main entrance.”

  “Where’s the envelope?”

  “Oh . . . I think I left it in the break room.” Belinda looked a little worried. “It is probably still in there.”

  Penelope jotted down a couple more notes and said, “Okay, then. Let’s go look.”

  “Penny, wait.” Jacob sounded alarmed. “There’s something missing from my wallet.”

  Penelope’s stomach tightened, and her pulse sped up. “What is it? What’s missing?” The contents of his wallet were spread on the counter. Penelope poured over his driver’s license, credit cards, and insurance card. It looked complete. There was even some cash.

  “The photo booth picture we took at Doug and Camille’s wedding. It’s missing!” He frantically looked through the little pockets of the black leather wallet as if he thought the photo would simply reappear if he kept looking. “And the fortune . . .”

  “Fortune?” Penelope asked.

  “You know, from the wedding. The fortune cookie fortune.”

  Penelope and Jacob had met at Doug and Camille’s wedding six years earlier. Jacob was a good friend of Camille’s, and she had wanted to set him up with Penelope. Camille made sure they were paired up in the wedding party. Doug and Camille handed out personalized fortune cookies at the rehearsal dinner and each person read their fortune aloud. Most of them were humorous, but Jacob and Penelope’s were the same.

  The love you seek is closer than you think.

  Penelope and Jacob dated for a month before his last deployment and had been exclusive since his return.

  “You kept that?” she asked.

  “I did. In my wallet with the picture.”

  A curl of dread turned in Penelope’s stomach. “Why would anyone want that?” She studied the contents of his wallet again. “Why would someone leave the cash and take the photo and the fortune?”

  Jacob set the empty wallet down next to its contents. “I guess it’s possible that I took it out.”

  The look on his face told a different story.

  Was he trying to convince himself or keep her from worrying? Penelope suppressed any worry this revelation had spawned and stayed focused on the facts. Collect the evidence. Focus on the task at hand. Worry could wait until later.

  She removed a couple of evidence bags from her kit. She needed to bag Jacob’s belongings and get that envelope. The more evidence they had, the easier it would be to track whoever dropped it off.

  “Belinda, you want to show me that envelope?”

  Belinda stopped typing and looked startled. “Oh yes . . . the envelope.” She stood and said, “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER 23

  The Franklin Clinic wasn’t a large building. The small medical facility could deal with emergenci
es, but it was by no means a fully equipped hospital. With three hospitals in nearby Gainesville, Franklin didn’t require a hospital of its own.

  Penelope followed Belinda into the administrative area of the clinic. They stopped outside the small employee break room across from Jacob’s office. There was no door—just a door-sized opening. Inside, next to a well-worn recliner was a wooden table and three chairs.

  “It was right here,” Belinda said, pointing at the table.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I left it right here.” Panic rose in Belinda’s voice. “Oh, no! Someone must have thrown it away.” Belinda looked at Penelope apologetically, and then her eyes widened. “I was supposed to empty the trash last night because the garbage men come today, but I forgot. Nurse Taylor must have emptied them when she got in this morning.” Belinda looked as if she might cry.

  Penelope looked down at the empty trash can with a fresh liner inside and flipped open her notebook. “Why did you leave the envelope in the break room?”

  “I brought donuts in for the staff and my hands were full. I set the envelope on top of the donut box, and I called Dr. Gordon from here.” Belinda pointed to a phone on the break room wall. “Dr. Gordon asked me to open the package. Then he told me to bag his stuff. I got busy and forgot about the envelope.”

  “So, if Nurse Taylor took the trash out, the envelope could be near the top of the dumpster, correct?”

  Belinda shook her head. “I heard the garbage truck about thirty minutes ago. It’s long gone.”

  The loss of evidence was disappointing, but Penelope didn’t want Belinda to beat herself up over it. “We’ll probably find the evidence we need from the wallet, cell phone, and watch. Thanks for your help.”

  That did not seem to cheer Belinda up at all and she morosely walked back toward the lobby. Penelope hardly noticed. She was lost in thought, running through the evidence in her mind. The robbery . . . the security footage . . . the mysterious return of Jacob’s belongings.