Shit. The guy who beat me up probably stole my phone.
So instead of a phone number, she just wrote down “BPD district C-11” and asked that they notify Sergeant Bailey that she was in the hospital. In the tiny bit of space left on the board, she also added, “Is my phone here?”
Kate awoke to whispering between Kenny and Matt.
They weren’t cheerful sounds. More like angry whispers. No. Insults directed at each other.
In semi-hushed tones, the two men uttered words that were obviously not meant for Kate’s ears.
While she wanted to scream and tell them to quit arguing, she couldn’t. So, she settled on the next thing she could do without using her vocal chords: she hurled her marker at them, and it landed right on Matt’s shoulder, making him and Kenny turn to face her faster than she had hoped.
“Sorry, Katie,” Kenny said, his eyebrows slanted as he shook his head.
How bad do I freaking look? He’s never looked at me like this before. Even when I broke my arm or when I got a shiner in high school.
As she made a mental note to ask for a mirror next time the nurse walked in, Kenny approached Kate’s bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I didn’t know until the hospital called me.” He placed his hand on Kate’s forearm and squeezed it a little, while he tenderly brushed the back of his other hand against her forehead. “Does this hurt?”
While Kate didn’t feel pain, per se, the tender touch made her realize her face must be swollen.
She blinked twice.
“That means no,” Matt said from the other side of the bed. “One blink is yes, two is no.”
“Thank you,” Kenny replied while scowling at Matt. “Aren’t you useful now?”
While Kate partly enjoyed having her uncle take her side, she could do without the negative energy around her. She could feel their emotional daggers shooting across her bed.
Raising one hand in the air, Kate pretended to write on a board she didn’t have, with the marker she’d thrown at them a minute earlier.
Kenny headed toward where the marker had rolled to at the other end of the room while Matt remained where he was.
Yeah. Predictable. Sure, let my elderly, arthritic uncle fetch it while you do nothing.
Kate’s heart hurt in her chest, and she knew it wasn’t from any of her injuries. Every second that went by showed how poor a choice she’d made when she married Matt.
He hadn’t even called Kenny to let him know his adoptive daughter had been beaten up and hospitalized.
Fucking ass.
Those were his true colors, all right.
With the nurse’s help, Kate made her way to the bathroom, so she could relieve herself. But when Kate opened the door and spotted her reflection in the mirror, she gasped, which made her cough, which then caused sharp pangs to shoot through her throat again.
“Are you all right?” the nurse asked, returning to her side as Kate’s coughing subsided.
Kate lifted her thumb, but her eyes stayed glued to the beat-up woman in the mirror.
Holy shit.
Her blonde hair was matted, a multicolor bump dominated her forehead, and a vertical cut decorated the end of one of her eyebrows. Medical tape and a metal bar covered her nose. One of her eyes was still swollen from one heck of a shiner.
That explains why I can’t see quite right on this side…
Then there was the neck brace and the plastic tube they kept calling a stoma, and which the nurse came twice a day to clean.
I look like I’ve been to hell and back.
The new nurse on duty, a handsome and effeminate man named Kevin, checked up on Kate again. The little routine of having her blood pressure monitored, her temperature taken, her stoma cleaned, and her IV fluids replaced distracted Kate from the overwhelming negativity that occupied her mind.
But as the nurse left her room, he surprised Kate with an announcement. “There’s a police officer here to see you. The doctor okayed the visit, but I wanted to check with you. Are you ready for a visitor now?”
Kate blinked once, wondering who it would be. The sergeant? Johnston? It definitely couldn’t be Bower.
“I’ll let her in now,” the nurse said as he opened the door to exit the room.
Her?
A curvy, uniformed brunette entered.
Ah, her! Larson was the only other woman officer in her district. They never really talked much. In fact, Kate still had no idea why Larson had ended up on desk duty in the first place.
“Officer Murphy, how are you doing?” Larson said, her expression one of surprise—or horror? —as their eyes met.
Since Kate couldn’t speak, she turned her palms to face up, hoping Larson would realize the stupidity of her question.
How Kate loathed small talk.
Maybe there was a silver lining to this injury after all. Not being able to speak had its benefits.
Larson stepped closer and stood at the foot of the bed. “I gotta say you don’t look so great. Sorry.”
Kate wanted to roll her eyes, but she settled on pointing at one of the chairs instead.
“I will take a seat. Thank you.”
An uncomfortable minute elapsed before Larson spoke again.
Come on! Shit or get off the pot. Why are you here? It’s not like we’re best friends or anything.
“Listen,” Larson said standing up again and approaching Kate’s side. “Can I call you Kate?”
Kate blinked once.
“That means yes, right?”
Kate repeated her motion then smiled as it dawned on her that Larson’s interviewing skills weren’t the greatest. Larson’s line of questioning would have elicited the same reaction from Kate whether she had meant yes or no.
Maybe weak deductive logic and bad decisions were to blame for her getting a desk job.
“Okay. I’m here to file a report about your attack. Since you were unconscious when they admitted you, the report wasn’t complete… Busy officers… Yada yada. Good news is that the sarge is giving me your attack case as a stepping-stone for me to get off desk duty and back on the streets again.” Larson made jazz hands and put on the world’s fakest smile before voicing an elongated, high-pitched “Yaaaaayy!” that only a teenage girl could have duplicated.
What is wrong with this woman? Kate couldn’t resist rolling her eyes this time.
Please make her stop!
“Since you can’t talk, I already spoke to your husband and your doctor.” She grabbed Kate’s arm. “I know about… You know.” Her eyes diverted to Kate’s stomach for a second. “Your husband told me. And I’ll have to report it. I’m sorry, but that’s how it goes.”
Kate lifted her brow and made the biggest eyes she could. Why? Failing to report private health conditions of co-workers isn’t that big a deal.
“I’m still on probation. I can’t make another mistake. If the sarge catches the slight lie or omission in my report… So… I have to do everything by the book.”
Kate motioned for her marker and board, which Larson must have been briefed about because she immediately reached for them and handed them to Kate.
“Can’t you report that I didn’t know I was pregnant?” Kate wrote.
Larson shook her head, her gaze stern.
With the side of her hand, Kate wiped off the previous words and wrote some more. “Come on. One woman doing another a favor.”
“I’m sorry,” Larson said shaking her head.
Everything in Larson’s expression and posture screamed that she was. Her eyes were sad, her shoulders slumped, her mouth crooked.
“Thing is, the sergeant already had his suspicions about you being pregnant. He could easily call your husband and find out that you knew and lied to the department by not disclosing your pregnancy.”
Kate looked down at the sheets that covered her stomach, feeling tears building up. Again.
“So, I hope you understand. There’s no other option.”
Kate bl
inked once, which pushed a single tear down her cheek.
After trading her marker and board for the pad of paper and pen that Larson had brought with her, Kate completed her statement for the attack in the park. However, she did leave out the fight with her husband that had led to her running without paying attention to her surroundings.
As much as she hated her husband right now, she saw the man who beat her up, and it wasn’t Matt. And she also didn’t want to share her marital problems with the world.
Kate handed the pad of paper to Larson, who began reading it right away. While Larson reviewed the statement, Kate figured she’d use the bathroom, so she pressed the button on her remote to get the nurse’s attention and began the slow process of raising the back of her hospital bed to a near vertical position.
Kevin walked in, and Kate pointed to the bathroom, so no words needed to be exchanged. The nurse lowered the safety bar on one side of the bed and helped Kate up to her feet. Keeping her neck and head immobile made the simplest tasks difficult. Then there was the assortment of IV fluids pumping into her arm. Based on what she heard the nurse say, one was for pain, the other for inflammation, and she couldn’t recall what the third hanging bottle was for.
But, once on her feet, she walked to the bathroom with her assortment of IV fluids in tow. Her broken ribs felt more painful with each step she took.
Kate did her business, and when she came out, Matt was there with Larson.
When did he get here?
The nurse helped Kate back onto the bed and then walked out of the room, leaving her with Larson and Matt, who’d obviously befriended each other already.
“Can we get a sketch artist to mock up the attacker?” Matt asked Larson.
“Of course, if Kate recalls what he looks like, I could get a sketch artist in here today.”
Both turned to look at Kate who blinked once.
“We’ll make do with her current inability to talk. It may take a little longer than usual for him to get it done, but we’ll make it happen.”
“And then, the police are going to find him, right? I want to sue his ass. We’ll make him pay for what he did to my baby… and to Kate, of course.”
Kate’s blood boiled. She motioned for the marker, and Larson brought it to her, along with the board. Kate’s fingers flew as she wrote words she only wished she could voice aloud.
She turned her board toward her husband. “Matt, you really think a drug addict will have money or an insurance policy? Really? That’s your big ticket?”
“Kate, let me handle this. Mind your own business!” And as though he instantly realized how hurtful his words sounded in front of a third-party, he softened his voice, gently patted Kate’s arm and then added, “And rest, of course.” The smile he flashed Kate was the cheesiest she’d ever seen on her husband’s lips.
Way to save face, you idiot.
Larson cleared her throat. “I’m going to step out for a few minutes. I need to get myself some coffee. I’ll call to find out the sketch artist’s availability, and I’ll be back in a little while.”
Matt exhaled loudly as the door closed behind Larson, leaving the two of them alone.
Matt’s grip on her arm morphed into a painful vise. “I saved your fucking life, woman! Don’t you forget it. And don’t you fucking dare get in my way—”
A beep from his phone interrupted his rant.
Fortunately for Kate, he had to release her arm in order to swipe the phone’s screen and read his message.
“I gotta go,” he said.
After another drug-induced nap that featured Bobby, her dead baby brother, along with some messed-up visions of her dead fetus, Kate awoke to Julia, the precinct’s redheaded psychologist, sitting on a chair next to her hospital bed.
“Larson told me it might be good for the two of us to chat. Like, I can chat, and you can write down your thoughts… if you want. Blink once if that sounds good.”
Kate blinked, unsure where the discussion would lead to, but it would be more pleasant than speaking with Matt.
And what else was she going to do while confined to a hospital bed? She’d been here too long already.
Argh… Shit.
How much was she going to have to spend out-of-pocket on this? Matt must have filled out the appropriate papers when they admitted her. Was their insurance policy going to cover her extended stay? Or would she get in deeper financial trouble now?
“I know you’re not the talkative type,” Julia said as she put the board and marker within Kate’s reach. “You’ve never taken me up on my invitations to chitchat at the station, but Larson said I should try again today. Sounds like it’s not just your body that’s trying to heal now. How are things at home?”
Kate closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to air her dirty laundry. But then she felt a sinking motion in her mattress. She opened her eyes to see Julia sitting on the left side of her bed. Julia looked at her with hopeful eyes as her hand reached for Kate’s left hand and squeezed it in a comforting grasp.
“This will remain totally private. Whatever you share with me will not be disclosed to anyone else.”
Kate wrote on the board. “Larson?”
“No, I told her to return to the station. I’ll let her know when you’re ready to get the sketch artist involved.”
Kate scribbled some more. “Police file?”
Julia shook her head. “No, strictly between you and me. Like, I won’t put any notes in your file. Is that okay?”
Kate blinked once.
“Thanks for trusting me. So… This’ll be a little difficult, but I’m sure we’ll manage. On a scale of one to ten, one being terrible and ten being perfect, how are things at home?”
Kate inadvertently grunted, which resulted in a painful cough.
“Don’t try and talk, just write a number down.”
Kate stared at Julia’s green eyes.
Funny how I never noticed that woman’s brightly colored eyes before.
Kate tried to think of some positive things happening at home, but other than the support of Kenny (which also caused a lot of financial strain), there wasn’t much that she was happy with. She drew the number two on the board.
“Good. And, like, if you think back to about six months or a year ago, what number would you have used?”
Before the cheating? Before the pill-tampering incident? Before losing an unborn child? Before I knew who my husband really was?
Kate drew the number seven.
“Okay. So, like, things have been going downhill for a while then?”
Kate blinked once.
“Is your husband somewhere in the hospital now?”
Kate blinked twice.
“Do you know where he is?”
Kate raised her brow then, figuring she had nothing to lose, she wrote, “Probably with his mistress.”
“You think your husband is cheating on you?”
Kate blinked once.
“How does that make you feel?”
Kate raised her hands in the air, hoping her eyes would convey the WTF answer she wanted to give the woman. Seriously?
“Are you certain of it?”
Kate blinked once.
How she so dearly wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the facts had been exposed. She wanted to dig a hole into the ground and bury her head in it, so they could return to the way things were a year ago.
“Larson told me you were pregnant. Is that true?”
Kate blinked once. No wonder every officer at the station hated Larson. The woman had no business divulging that information to Julia.
“I’m sorry.” Julia paused for a second, as though choosing her words carefully. “You haven’t told the department. That goes against the department’s policies. Why didn’t you report your pregnancy?”
Kate let the marker slide across the board. “I was unsure whether I was going to keep it.” Reading her own words, she felt judged. Silently judged by herself, and possibly by J
ulia as well. What kind of a woman says that?
“How far along were you?”
Kate raised her shoulders, which made her squint from the pain in her ribs and neck.
Kate wrote the words on the board, feeling the weight of her guilt somehow lighten. “He tampered with my birth-control pills.”
Julia stared at the board, one of her eyebrows higher than the other. “Who? Your husband?”
Kate blinked once then locked eyes with the woman, hoping she could telepathically share every detail without having to write them down.
“It doesn’t sound like you’re happy in this marriage,” Julia said.
Kate felt tears rush up to her eyes, and blinking twice made them escape down her cheeks.
“There, there, Kate.”
Kate felt Julia’s other hand tapping on her thigh while she squeezed the other more firmly. “It’s okay. Let’s be honest here: you wouldn’t be the first police officer to have a rocky marriage.”
Kate pulled out her left hand from the psychologist’s grasp and brought it to her face, wiping the tears and reopening her eyes. With her right hand, she wrote the words she didn’t know she wanted to write:
“I want a divorce.”
“That’s an irreversible option. Are you certain? I could recommend couples counseling if you want.”
Kate blinked twice.
After the sketch artist’s visit and one more visit by both her husband and her uncle—not occurring simultaneously—Kate’s hospital stay turned into a predictable routine, save for when they changed her tube. Something to do with reducing its diameter, the doctor said.
Kate thought back to her uncle’s second visit, during which he’d apologized profusely for not coming by enough, but she understood that getting to the hospital was quite a journey for him. It required ninety minutes via public transport, including two transfers. And with his advanced age, walking to and from the bus stop was quite the effort.
So, she’d told Kenny that he didn’t have to come and visit her anymore. It was too much of a burden for him to bear. And the doctor had reported that she was doing well and should be out soon anyway.
The Last Lies (Kate Murphy Mystery Book 1) Page 11
