Chapter Forty-Six
Nessa straightened the stack of folders on her desk and shut down her computer. It was Friday afternoon, and for the first time in ages she was leaving the office early. She planned to make one quick stop before heading home to spend a relaxing weekend with her family.
That is, if you call doing laundry and housework relaxing.
The thought brought a wry smile. She was actually looking forward to a weekend of chores. And maybe she and Jerry would finally get a chance to take Cole and Cooper out for pizza. It would be a pleasant change to have the whole family together after everything she’d been through in the last few weeks.
The initial media circus surrounding Portia Hart’s death, and the subsequent discovery of Xavier Greyson’s crimes, had resulted in many late nights and working weekends for the WBPD and the prosecutor’s office. And with Tucker Vanzinger still recuperating in the hospital, the workload had been unusually heavy.
But as she turned off the lights and closed the door to her office, Nessa felt proud of how her little department had handled the crime spree. Xavier Greyson had been a career con man who had committed multiple homicides over the span of a decade; her team had managed to end his final spree of murder and mayhem.
Walking the few blocks to Barker and Dawson Investigations, Nessa found Frankie throwing darts at a newly hung board on the wall. Barker sat behind his desk squinting at the computer screen.
“You boys look busy,” Nessa teased, dropping into a chair across from Barker. “No more big insurance investigations?”
Frankie rolled his eyes as he threw another dart. It clattered against the wall then fell to the floor.
“Don’t even get me started on Maxwell Snake-in-the-Grass Clay,” Frankie said. “That man is on my shit list.”
“Well then you’ll be happy to hear that the state prosecutor for Hart Cove has decided to charge Mr. Clay with fraud.”
Looking somewhat mollified, Frankie threw another dart.
“What about that scumbag, Nick Sargent?” Frankie asked. “You got something on him that’ll stick?”
Barker finally looked up from his keyboard.
“I thought you’d cleared him,” Barker said, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, Lexi Marsh identified Greyson as the man who attacked her, right?”
Doubt flickered through Nessa’s mind.
Is Nick Sargent in the clear? He may not have killed Portia Hart, or attacked Lexi, but he’s guilty of something. I’d bet my paycheck on it.
She saw Barker watching her with a suspicious frown.
“What, Sargent’s not in the clear?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s he done?”
“I’m not sure,” Nessa admitted. “But he was seen hanging around Molly Blair’s house. And we know Molly was supplying drugs to Lexi and some of the other girls working for her.”
“Oh, so he’s that kind of scum,” Frankie said, shaking his head. “I bet the loser tried something with Lexi.”
Nessa sighed. Nick Sargent felt like a loose end, but they hadn’t been able to prove he was guilty of any crime, and he’d denied having any involvement with Molly Blair.
“Lexi Marsh has identified Xavier Greyson as the man she’d seen in the stairwell, and the man who attacked her at Molly Blair’s house. But she refuses to say anything about Nick Sargent.”
Frankie snorted.
“The poor girl’s probably too scared to say anything.”
He hurled another dart, this time missing the wall completely.
“She was hooked on drugs and turning tricks,” he said, picking up the dart and dropping it on his desk. “So she’s gotta be thinking she’ll get in trouble if she admits it.”
Nessa shook her head.
“No, I don’t think that’s it. Riley Odell agreed to give Lexi immunity. She’s not planning on prosecuting her for illegal possession of prescription drugs or prostitution.”
“Okay, but if Lexi talks, and you guys try to prosecute Nick Sargent, her activities will be made public.” Frankie’s voice had taken on a defensive tone. “She probably doesn’t want her family and everybody in town finding out what she’s been up to.”
Barker studied Frankie with knowing eyes.
“You seem to know an awful lot about how Lexi Marsh is feeling. Maybe you can talk to her and convince her to come clean.”
Waving the idea away with a skinny arm, Frankie frowned.
“Nah, man. I don’t want to get into her business. She’s been through enough without having to face some jerk in court.”
Nessa thought that the pained expression on Frankie’s face didn’t match his words. Shooting a sly glance at Barker, Nessa stood and picked up a dart. She stood in front of Frankie and waved it in the air.
“How about we make a bet, Frankie. If I get a bullseye, you’ll go talk to Lexi and find out what she knows about Nick Sargent.”
“You? Make a bullseye?” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Okay, but what’ll I get if you miss?”
“I’ll let you ride in the Charger with my emergency lights on.”
Frankie’s face lit up at the thought.
“Okay, deal.”
Nessa winked at Barker and turned toward the board. With a swift flick of her wrist, the dart flew to the board, sinking smoothly into the bullseye.
“What?” Frankie’s eyes were wide. “How’d you do that?”
Barker laughed.
“She hustled you, man. Nessa’s won the WBPD’s dart tournament three years in a row.”
Later, as Barker walked Nessa back toward the station, his mood turned serious. He stopped at the corner and looked over at her.
“I just want you to know that I’m really impressed with how you’re handling the new job,” he said, holding her gaze. “And as the father of a female who lives in this town, I’m glad we have you out there chasing the bad guys.”
Nessa felt her cheeks grow hot.
“You may be a little biased, but…thanks.”
Barker shook his head.
“No, I’m not biased. You make a real good chief.”
His words replayed in her mind as she headed home, and for the first time, Nessa felt confident that Barker was right.
I guess I do make a pretty good chief after all.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The recreation room inside Hope House was quiet. A few residents sat around the television watching a game show, while several others drank coffee and chatted in a corner alcove. Lexi Marsh hovered in the doorway, unsure if she should go inside, or go back to her room.
“I could really use a cup of herbal tea,” a voice spoke behind her. “Why don’t you join me?”
She turned to see Dr. Regina Horn, the rehab center’s director and the woman who had been Lexi’s therapist during the two weeks she’d been at the facility.
“Okay,” Lexi agreed, glad to have someone to sit with.
Once they were settled into a table by the window, Lexi sipped her tea and tried to think of something to say, but Reggie spoke first.
“You’ve been here a few weeks now…how are you liking it?”
“I’m getting used to it, I guess.” Lexi wondered if that was strictly true. “Although I’ve been a little restless today.”
Sipping from her mug, Reggie seemed to consider the statement.
“Well, restless can be good. That is, if it prompts you to go out and make good things happen.”
“I feel like I should be doing something productive.” Lexi looked around the tranquil room. “And not just sitting around here doing nothing.”
Reggie’s laugh was infectious, and Lexi found herself smiling, even though she wasn’t sure what was so funny.
“You’re here building yourself a foundation for a whole new life,” Reggie said, still smiling. “And you don’t think that’s productive?”
Lexi giggled, liking the feeling of being happy. Of not being worried, or sick, or scared.
“I guess you’
re right,” she told Reggie. “I’ve got a lot of work to do right here before I go out there.”
Looking through the big window, Lexi was surprised to see Frankie and his partner walking toward the building.
“That’s a friend of mine,” Reggie said, looking pleased. “I didn’t know Peter was going to come by and see me today.”
“Peter?”
“Yes, Peter Barker.” Reggie grinned. “He’s my special friend.”
Lexi smiled and looked out the window again, but the men had already disappeared through the front door.
“I’ve met Frankie,” she admitted, feeling awkward. “He’s the one who…helped me. I think he’s your friend’s partner.”
Reggie stood, motioning for Lexi to stay seated.
“I’ll go see where they are. You wait here.”
A sudden urge to flee took over Lexi, and she had already pushed back her chair and was preparing to rise when Reggie reappeared, followed by Frankie and Barker.
“You’re not leaving on my account, are you?” Frankie asked. “Cause I promise I won’t bite.”
His words brought Lexi back to that last night in the Riverview Tower hotel. She’d used the same phrase with the man in Room 1025. The man that Nikolai had called Mr. Murray. The man she had tricked so that Nikolai could take a picture.
“Whoa, I was just kidding around,” Frankie said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Am I really that scary?”
Lexi shook her head, trying to erase the terrible image of the hotel room, never wanting to go back to the place she’d been before Frankie had saved her.
“Thank you,” she blurted, surprising both herself and Frankie. “I’m not sure I told you that before. But if I didn’t, I should have.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Frankie said, glancing at Reggie and Barker with an embarrassed grin. “Just being a friend.”
Swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat, Lexi shrugged.
“Well, you’re one of the only friends I have left now. So…thanks.”
Barker slapped a big hand on Frankie’s narrow back.
“Listen, Frankie. I’d like to talk to Reggie in private. You think you can sit here and entertain Lexi until we get back?”
Lexi watched Barker and Reggie leave, then turned to Frankie with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, let’s skip the part where you pretend they didn’t just leave so you can talk to me,” she snapped. “What do you want to know?”
Holding up his hands in surrender, Frankie nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I wanted to ask you a few questions. So kill me why don’t you.”
“Questions about what?”
“About Nick Sargent.”
She felt his eyes on her, watching her reaction.
“Let me ask you something first.”
“Ask me anything you want,” he said, dropping into a chair. “I’m an open book.”
“Why’d you come looking for me?” She swallowed hard, trying to keep eye contact. “After I yelled at you and kicked you out…why did you keep trying to save me?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Lifting a skinny hand, he scratched at his chin, then dug in his pocket for a stick of gum.
“Well? I thought you were an open book,” she said, curious about his reaction. “I can take it, whatever it is. I mean, if you were interested in hanging out, or whatever-”
“No,” he said, his voice firm. “It isn’t that. I mean you’re a lovely girl and all, but I’m too old, and you’re…not old enough.”
“Okay…then what?”
Banging his palm on the table, Frankie looked out the window.
“I had a little sister, okay? She was only a kid really when she started getting in trouble. I wasn’t there to…to help her out.”
Frankie’s voice wavered, but his eyes were dry.
“She overdosed. Died on the bathroom floor in some shitty apartment. I mean…she was my little baby sister, you know?”
He ran a hand through his hair and raised haunted eyes to hers.
“Anyway…I was off fucking around when it happened. It still gets to me sometimes. I guess that’s why I wanted to help you.”
His voice softened as he dropped his eyes and stared at his hands.
“You kinda remind me of her…of my little sister.”
Holding back sudden tears, Lexi put her hand on Frankie’s hand and squeezed. It felt good to be comforting someone else for a change. She’d been feeling sorry for herself for way too long. It was time to grow up and own her mistakes.
“Nikolai…that’s what we called Nick Sargent…he was with me at the hotel the night Portia was killed. We were…running a game on some guy. Nikolai wanted pictures. I don’t know why exactly. I think blackmail, or something like that.”
Frankie stared at her without speaking. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or if he was judging her. All she knew was that she had to get it all off her chest. Whatever happened, she needed to come clean. Only then would she be free to start over.
Reaching into his pocket, Frankie pulled out another stick of gum and handed to her.
“This will help with the cravings,” he said. “Now tell me the rest.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The lobby at Willow Bay General Hospital was busy as Riley walked through the sliding doors and headed for the elevator. The doors slid open to reveal a very pregnant woman and her visibly nervous partner. Riley smiled as the woman shuffled off the elevator. Stepping inside, she pushed the button for the intensive care unit and drew in a nervous breath at the thought of finally seeing Tucker Vanzinger.
While she’d called often to check on Vanzinger’s condition, using her position as state prosecutor to get official updates on his progress, this was the first time she would see him in person since the day on the beach two weeks ago when he’d been struck by lightning.
The elevator opened onto a circular nursing station, which appeared to be deserted. Riley walked down a long, white corridor, stopping outside Room 610. She knocked softly on the door, then pushed it open and peered inside.
Straining to see into the dimly lit room, Riley could make out Vanzinger’s red hair on the pillow, and his broad shoulders under the thin white sheet. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
Before she could move further into the room, a soft hand clutched her arm. She turned to see a pretty woman in blue scrubs.
“I’m sorry, but we need you to check in at the nursing station before you enter a room,” the nurse said, guiding Riley back into the hall. “Are you a family member of the patient?”
Riley hesitated, unsure what exactly she was to Vanzinger.
A work colleague? An old flame? An acquaintance?
Seeing the nurse’s expectant stare, Riley took out her ID badge and flashed it at the woman.
“I’m a state prosecutor, and I’m working on a case that involved Detective Vanzinger. I’m here to check on him.”
The nurse frowned.
“Mr. Vanzinger’s not well enough to answer any questions,” she said, her back stiffening. “So, if you’re trying to interrogate him, I suggest you-”
“No, I’m not going to interrogate him,” Riley protested, her voice wavering. “I just want to make sure…he’s okay. I was with him when he was on the beach and…well, I’m worried about him.”
The nurse studied Riley’s wan face, then relented. She relaxed her shoulders and motioned for Riley to follow her.
“He has been doing much better lately,” the nurse said, entering Riley’s name in her log. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a visitor.”
“Last time I called to check they said his injuries were neurological in nature. What does that mean exactly?”
Handing her a visitor’s badge, the nurse began walking back toward Vanzinger’s room.
“Well, it’s hard to say what the long term effects will be, but right now he’s still suffering some memory loss,
and has bouts of pain and dizziness. Hopefully those symptoms will abate in time.”
Pushing the door open, the nurse waved Riley in.
“There’s a call button by the bed if you need anything.”
Riley looked back but the nurse was gone. She turned to the bed and saw that Vanzinger’s eyes were open.
“Hi.” Her voice came out as a soft croak. “How are you?”
“I’m in the hospital, so I guess I’m not doing that great,” Vanzinger replied. “And I’ve been awful lonely. Where’ve you been?”
The hurt in his voice surprised her.
“I called to check on you almost every day.”
She stepped closer, clutching her purse against her body, as if shielding herself from his judgement.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be up for visitors.”
Keeping his eyes fixed on her, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I died out there. Did you know that? My heart stopped beating, and I wasn’t breathing. I was dead.”
Riley gasped, stunned by the pain she saw in his eyes.
“You know the first thing I thought of when I came back to life?”
His voice shook with emotion, but his gaze was steady.
“I thought about you. I wanted to see you. But you weren’t here.”
“I’m…sorry.”
Riley’s voice cracked as she reached for his hand.
“I should have come sooner. I wanted to but…”
Clasping her hand in his, Vanzinger pulled her closer.
“But you’re still holding a grudge,” he finished for her. “You wrote me that letter. After I left. Told me when I left that you’d hate me until the day I die.”
Riley had forgotten about that letter. It had come from a dark place. She cringed as she thought of everything she’d written.
“Well, guess what?” Vanzinger continued, his voice softening. “That day has come and gone, Riley. I died out there, and now I’m back. And it’s time to let that old grudge go.”
His words sliced through her, cutting her free from the past.
Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller Page 26
