MATT DUGGIN - DETECTIVE SERIES

Part III

“What’s the status on Paris Hilton?”

Dr. Lundsten returned an irritated look back at Ray Sutton. “Same as the last status I provided. She’s confined to a private room, alert and oriented but tranquil after administering midazolam … not that you would know what that is.”

Sutton flashed an unpleasant smirk. “I know it’s a central nervous system depressant ... or I suppose you’ve forgotten how long I’ve worked here, Doctor Jekyll. I’ve seen your loonies booted dozens of times with all kind of drugs ... even helped your staff do it on occasion. And knock off the smart-ass remarks everytime I ask you a question about our Princess of Bel Air.”

“You’re a crude son-of-a-bitch, Sutton," Lundsten snapped. "We don’t boot medications here. That’s what hopheads on the streets do ... like you.”

Sutton walked in a threatening manner toward the newly appointed hospital director. “You know, doc, one of these days you’re gonna open that smart mouth of yours one time too …”

The door to Lundsten’s office suddenly swung open, a familiar face strolling into the room.

Sutton spun around. “Well, well, look who the cat just dragged in. It’s Perry Mason in the flesh,” he howled in a sarcastic tone, a smug expression crossing his face. He turned around again and walked back to Lundsten’s desk, grabbing a guest chair and sitting. Leaning back and crossing his legs with his ankle on his knee, Sutton shook out his pants leg with one hand so the crease would fall right. “So, counselor, what brings you here to looney town today?”

Marvin Shyner appeared to be about 40 years old, with sharp eyes, a slash of a mouth, and a face like a bulldog. He was wearing a dark blue suit, a light blue dress shirt and slender navy-blue tie that looked so far out of style it was almost in.

“Something you want to tell us, counselor?" Sutton continued to prod.

Shyner set his briefcase on the floor next to Lundsten’s desk. “Yeah. I left court about an hour ago,” he announced with a weary sigh. “Our patient is now represented by Erin Lauber. She’s filed a notice of appearance on behalf of Melissa Barton.”

“More than likely Holland’s behind that,” Lundsten speculated.

“She’s no pushover ... that I can tell you."

Sutton jumped out of his chair. “Hold on here,” he yelled out, exchanging glances with Lundsten and Shyner. “Why should that come as a surprise? Did either of you believe for a second Lauber or some other attorney wasn’t going to challenge the commitment order?" He turned and faced Shyner. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, counselor?”

The portly attorney walked up to Sutton, close enough that they almost bumped noses. "Yeah … as a matter of fact I do. Why don’t you go piss up a rope.”

***

“Well, we’re committed, “ Matt said to Delia on the drive back to the agency. “I'll set-up a conference call with Blanchard and Morelli as soon as we get back to the office. It's time to bring them into the loop."

Delia nodded. "And arrange a joint in-house meeting with Lauber. She can bring both up to speed from a legal standpoint, including the need for any court orders and warrants."

Matt let out a deep sigh. “I’m still concerned about your safety, Del. You won’t be allowed a cell phone or access to any landline. You can’t wear a wire or bring in a tracking device of any kind. They’d find that on you within minutes with the change into hospital garb.”

“So we focus on what we can do,” Delia replied. “And the first thing will be to hack into their computer system.”

“Which means we’ll need a warrant.”

“Correct.”

Matt slowed his car and flipped on the turn signal. "According to Lauber, Melissa's forced admission along with the other damming documentation in the folder should be sufficiently corroborating to obtain any necessary warrants." He turned into the agency's parking lot and parked in his private office space. He turned and looked at his assistant. “What’s your specific plan for spoofing their computer?"

Delia shifted in her seat. “The FBI forensics lab will need to provide a copy of a tainted or malware software update … a trojan horse of sorts. Morelli can make those arrangements. When it’s received, I can execute the update from my computer to theirs, making it appear it’s from a trusted source and related to their personal business model. I’ll obtain Lundsten’s email address at Paragon and forward it directly to him. Once he opens it, we’ll have a foothold into their system.”

“I get it … then you can download Melissa’s falsified medical records and any other incriminating documents and forward those to Lauber and Morelli prior to your admission. Neither Lundsten nor anyone else in the facility will be the wiser.”

“Bingo,” Delia said. “Once admitted, it’s my intention to locate a landline or loose cellphone and contact you as soon as I’ve confirmed Melissa’s whereabouts.”

“Roger that,” Matt said. “Rest assured — Morelli, Blanchard, and yours truly will be close by in a surveillance van. And just so you know … under no circumstances are you remaining in Paragon longer than 24 hours. After that we’ll be entering the facility on a separate warrant to remove you and Melissa whether we’ve heard from you or not.”

Noticing Matt's anxious look, Delia gave a reassuring smiled. “I’m not worried ... not one bit. I know you’ve got my back.”


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