A tremor of despair began at the base of Nora’s head and tears flooded her eyes.
Cole opened his arms and took the last small step forward. Without hesitation Nora leaned into him and poured her anguish, fear, regret, and sorrow into his beating heart. His arms closed around her, temporarily shielding her from any harm. He felt warm and smelled of sun and pine and safety.
When the worst of her storm passed, she pushed against him. “Okay. I’m done with that. Now let’s get to Flagstaff.”
He shook his head. “I just came out to see you. I’ll go back and check on Abigail and Charlie, but you’ve got to stay here.”
“I need to protect Abigail.”
“This is the safest place for you. I’ll take care of your mother.”
Nora grabbed his arm. “It’s Barrett. She thinks she’s going to marry him and she can’t. He’s a killer. He killed Big Elk.”
Cole stared at her. “Big Elk? When?”
“Yesterday.” Nora started to tremble and tears spilled from her eyes. “My God, he had a man slit Big Elk’s throat. Big Elk was working for Barrett.”
Cole grabbed her by the shoulders. “I’ve got to go. Please, just stay out here for a while longer.”
She shook her head. “I have to go with you.”
A flash of anger lit his eyes. “You’re going to get yourself or someone else killed.”
“I’ve already caused murder. If I would have stopped snow making, Scott would still be alive.”
“If you had stopped it, you’d be dead now too.”
“What do you mean?”
He stood up, all business. “Never mind. Just stay here, Nora.” He strode up the ridge. “I’ll get this taken care of and be back for you. I promise.”
Frozen, she watched him disappear down the other side. When an engine started she raced up the hill, desperate not to be alone. She sprinted up the next hill and stopped short.
The whole time she’d planted corn and let her imagination carry her away, Benny’s pickup was sitting a short trot away.
She ran to the rusted hulk of a pickup and jumped behind the wheel, pulling the door closed with both hands. It wasn’t very smart of Benny to leave the keys in the ignition, but then, he probably wasn’t used to taking hostages.
Thirty-Seven
Nora spent the next two hours with her right foot pushed to the floor, trying to make Benny’s old pickup move faster. Unfortunately, it drove like he talked.
Nora fidgeted. Barrett could be with Abigail this very moment. Maybe he didn’t have a reason to harm her, but maybe he did. He had to be tied to the explosion that put her in the hospital in the first place, right?
Then there was the dicey situation that if Gary found her before she got to Abigail, Nora would spend too much time trying to convince him of Barrett’s guilt, leaving Abigail on her own, unaware of the evil monster she planned to marry.
The rusty truck finally puttered into the hospital lot and parked at the far edge. Nora jumped from the pickup, slamming the door. She struggled not to race to the front door. Her nerves strained like rubber bands stretched throughout her body, twisting tighter and tighter.
A vehicle moving way too fast caught her attention. In the next row Heather whipped her RAV4 into a parking space and jumped out. She’d changed from yesterday’s clothes and had, from the look of her wet hair hanging down her back, had the luxury of a shower. She slapped toward the entrance in her flip-flops.
“What are you doing here?” Nora called to her. Despite everything, she envied Heather’s shower and clean clothes.
Heather whipped around, obviously surprised. “I thought Cole wanted you to stay on the rez.”
Cole could issue orders, but it didn’t mean Nora had to obey. “I need to see Abigail and Charlie.”
Heather hurried toward the hospital entrance. “He called me and asked me to be here with Abigail because he had to check something out.”
Nora outpaced Heather. “Why didn’t you wait for me this mor-
ning?”
Heather’s face looked gray and cold as granite. “I came back early because I’ve got to talk to Poppy.”
“Stay away from him!”
“Benny won’t tell me who I am. He said I have to ask Poppy.”
Nora grabbed the girl’s arm and made Heather face her. “You saw what he’s capable of, Heather. Don’t go near him.”
“Whatever he is, he’s my father, even if I am adopted. He would never hurt me.”
Nora opened the door of the hospital and let Heather enter in front of her. The cold of the air conditioning smacked her skin after the heat of the parking lot and the old truck. She hesitated, not wanting to ask the pink-coated volunteer for Abigail’s room number.
Heather strode passed the front desk. “She’s on the third floor.”
Heather had more confidence than a normal sixteen-year-old. Nora wouldn’t have thought to call hospitals and remember to get room numbers and generally take charge. At that age, passing out flyers about environmental issues or volunteering to plant trees ranked as her biggest accomplishment. And though blowing up the lift was definitely not a good thing, it did demonstrate Heather’s ability to act.
Nora leaned over and spoke in a near whisper. “Try to look casual and not draw attention. Keep an eye out for the cops; I can’t be seen here until I can get to Abigail.”
They bypassed the elevator and opted for the stairs, hoping to avoid as much human contact as possible. At the third floor, Nora poked her head out the door and surveyed the hallway. Nothing but shiny linoleum, cream-colored walls, and bright lights. She slipped out with Heather behind her. The room numbers led them down the hall and to a nurses’ station situated in front of the elevators. According to Heather’s earlier phone call, Abigail’s room sat on the corridor on the other side of the nurses’ station.
Nora took a breath, straightened her shoulders and glanced at Heather. She had no choice but to march confidently by the nurses and hope they didn’t take note of her shabby appearance and the smattering of scabs from the flying glass yesterday.
Heather met her eye and gave a nod.
Nora stepped out to round the corner. A splash of dark blue stopped her. She turned and shoved Heather back around the corner.
“Hi, Laurie.” Gary’s voice greeted someone who replied with her own hello.
Nora didn’t know she recognized Gary’s voice, but now he represented a major menace in her life and Nora was gaining survival skills. He must be here to interrogate Abigail. And he was still convinced that Nora had killed Scott and Maureen. Maybe he’d set a trap for Nora so he could snap the cuffs on her and drag her to a dungeon.
Nora leaned against the wall and strained to hear, but her beating heart made it difficult.
Heather tossed her hair and stepped around the corner.
Nora wanted to pull her back, but Heather moved so unexpectedly she lost her chance.
“Hi,” Heather said as if she hadn’t witnessed a murder yesterday or blown up a ski lift. Whatever the female version of ballsy was called, that was Heather. “I’m looking for Abigail Stoddard. She’s on this floor, right?”
The nurse, or whoever Laurie was, answered. “She’s in room 321. But you’ll have to come back another time. She needs to rest now.”
“How is she?”
Gary interrupted, “Heather McCreary, isn’t it?”
Nora imagined Heather turning a royal countenance upon him and barely acknowledging his question.
“Your father said you were on vacation in Mexico.” Suspicion sprinkled his voice.
“I came back when I heard about Abigail.” She never missed a beat.
“Do you have time for a few questions?”
Now Nora knew Heather’s plan: she would distract Gary so Nora could sneak by. The girl was cunning and, sweet in h
er own way.
Heather sounded annoyed, exactly as Gary would expect. “I don’t have time now. I’ve got to be somewhere.”
“You came to visit Ms. Stoddard. I think you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Fine.” Heather sighed with supreme teenage superiority. “But only a couple of minutes.”
“We can use the lobby downstairs,” he said. His black police shoes squeaked and Nora figured he’d moved to the elevator and pushed the button.
“Great. Let’s do it in front of the whole world so everyone thinks I’m a criminal.”
Easy, Heather, don’t get him too riled up, thought Nora.
A ding, soft rattle, a little shuffling, a swoosh, and Nora assumed they were on their way down to the lobby. She poked her head around the corner in time to see the woman who must be Laurie scoot down the corridor on the other side of the elevator.
Nora stepped out and strolled past the station. She didn’t see anyone behind the counter. Good thing nurses were busy people.
She read the room numbers as she hurried down the hall. She smelled like fire and fear and had to look like a homeless person. If Abigail felt anything close to her normal self, Nora had better brace herself for an epic lecture.
Laurie’s friendly but firm voice floated out of the doorway to Abigail’s room. Damn. Nora glanced in the door of the room next to Abigail’s. The patient inside lay flat on her back with her eyes closed. With any luck, she—or he, it was hard to tell with all the white hair and sagging skin—was asleep. Nora slipped inside the room and into the bathroom next to the door.
“I’m going to ask you to come back another time,” Laurie said. “Ms. Stoddard has had visitors all morning and she really needs to rest.”
“Oh posh.” Steel bands loosened around Nora’s lungs. Abigail sounded like her regular self. “I’m not the least bit tired. Having visitors makes me feel better.”
“That may be, but I’m going to have to insist.” Laurie obviously didn’t know who she dealt with.
“If you’re going to be that way, at least give me a couple of minutes to finish our conversation.” Now Nora detected fatigue in her mother’s voice. To allow someone to tell her what to do really clinched it: Abigail was hurt. Nora fought not to run to her mother’s bedside.
“Just a couple of minutes,” Laurie said from the doorway. “I’m checking my watch and I’ll be back down if you don’t come out.”
Abigail’s visitor could be one of the women from her service club, but Nora hoped for Charlie. If so, it would mean he was okay. More than anything, she wanted her people safe and healthy and away from Barrett.
Laurie’s shoes squeaked with infinite efficiency as she hurried down the corridor.
“Are you the nurse?” A crotchety voice called from the bed.
The voice jettisoned Nora into the air and sent her nerves jangling. She’d guessed incorrectly. The patient was a man.
Nora tried to be calm. “No. Just the wrong room.”
His voice carried much louder than necessary. He probably didn’t hear well himself and compensated by shouting at everyone else. “What did you say? I asked if you are the nurse.”
She couldn’t shout back. What if Abigail’s visitor wasn’t Charlie? What if Laurie came back and caught her? What if Heather broke under Gary’s interrogation and told him Nora was on the third floor? What if a meteor struck Earth and they went the way of the dinosaur?
Sheesh. She always accused Abigail of exaggerating life to follow a movie script; it must be an inherited trait.
Still, Nora hurried to the old man’s bed and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’m in the wrong room.”
His hand shot out from under the blanket, his grip surprisingly strong on her wrist. Nora’s heart kicked in at the nightmare prospect of this frail-looking man actually being a demon. Or maybe a kachina, out to stop her from creating more chaos.
“The nurse hasn’t been here for two days. No one gives me food. I haven’t had a drink of water. She’s trying to kill me so she can have my money.”
His lunch tray sat on the windowsill, the gravy not even coagulated yet. An insulated pitcher with condensation from fresh ice water sat on his bedside table. He wasn’t an evil sprite or Big Elk’s faithful. He was an old, sick, and confused man.
Would life ever be normal again?
Nora reached over to grasp the pitcher, her other arm still in the old man’s clutches. A bendy straw stuck from the top. “Let me help you,” she said, grateful when he released her.
She put the straw in his mouth and he drew in the water, his rheumy eyes focused on her. The drink quenched his hostility and his eyes filled with the trust of a small child. He finished drinking. “You’re the best nurse I’ve ever had.”
She set the pitcher down and patted his hand.
His voice changed. “You are here to do good.”
Moisture vanished from Nora’s mouth and reappeared as cold sweat on her forehead. The old man’s eyes closed and his mouth opened a bit, letting out soft snores as he immediately fell asleep.
The voice hadn’t been that of the patient lying in front of her.
He’d spoken with the hesitant and abrupt cadence of the little kachina man.
Nora Abbott, you are certifiably nuts. Probably paranoid and delusional too. She tried to take inventory of what was real. Scott lay dead. Heather, and probably Alex, had destroyed the lift. Barrett had murdered Big Elk. Someone blew up her house with Abigail in it. Charlie risked his life to save Abigail.
Her mother rested next door. Nora had to touch her and know she was alive. She rushed toward the door … And stopped dead when she heard the low rumbled of a man’s voice. It wasn’t Charlie in Abigail’s room.
“You should get some rest now. I’ll be back later.” Barrett sounded sincere and tender, all the wonderful things a man should be to the woman he intended to marry.
Thirty-Eight
Barrett softly stroked the back of Abigail’s hand. It might be the only spot on her that wasn’t bruised or cut. He would prefer to take the pillow she rested her bandaged head on and smash it down on her face, grinding it until the life left her body.
“That Laurie is so bossy.” Abigail pouted in a way he once thought attractive. “I want to spend more time with my fiancé.”
He dodged stitches on her forehead and brushed his lips on her skin. “You’ve been through too much. First the gas leak and explosion itself, then to find out Nora is responsible.” If Abigail hadn’t turned at the last minute and ruined his aim with the tire iron, she wouldn’t be lying here worrying at all. She’d be stretched out on a slab in the morgue.
Abigail’s eyes sparked with indignation. “Nora is not behind this, despite what Gary says. He’s determined to throw her in the clink. I’m glad she’s on the lam, hiding from the Heat.” Since Abigail’s brush with the law she’d taken on a whole new language.
Why had he found her so appealing? She looked like an old woman and sounded like a harpy. The stitches and dried blood along the eight-inch gash on her forehead made her look like Frankenstein’s monster. “I know it’s hard to consider, but if the police are convinced Nora’s at fault, they probably have strong evidence.”
Barrett hadn’t planned on killing Abigail. He’d left her at the police station in the care of his trusty attorney and rushed back to torch the apartment. But she’d shown up unexpectedly. After he decided killing her was the most expedient solution to the problem, it struck him as justice for rejection. She’d said yes to his proposal, but only for his protection.
Goddamn Charlie for his meddling. He’d somehow rescued her and now Barrett had another loose end.
A lioness protecting her cub would be no more ferocious than Abigail, even injured as she was. “It’s Big Elk and his gang of thugs, maybe that big Indian friend of Heather’s.”
Bar
rett tried to soothe her. “You’re probably right. At the very least, poor Nora has lost everything. Not even a memento of her husband is left.”
Abigail sniffed in indignation. “Not that she needs to be reminded of his low character. The awful irony is that the only thing to make it through is that stupid box of Scott’s.”
This couldn’t be. “I’m afraid nothing’s left of the apartment.”
“It wasn’t in the apartment. I didn’t want Nora to have to face it again, so I had Heather load it into her car to take to the dump.”
Scott’s fucking logs were still around?! Fiery claws ripped at Barrett’s gut. Heather had the logs. Nora was with Heather. He had to find them. Now. “I can protect Nora until we get this all straightened out. Where is she?”
“I don’t know. What if Big Elk has her?” The final word squeezed into a sob. He’d thought she was so dignified and classy. Her sniveling made him want to slap her face.
He had to convince Abigail of his grave concern for Nora’s safety. “Big Elk isn’t a threat. But I really need to find Nora if I’m going to help her.”
“The last I knew, she and Heather were coming back from the Hopi reservation. Heather was really excited because she found out something about her family.”
Her family. What the hell was this now? He was her family. Some big-mouthed Indian was filling her head with bullshit. He couldn’t allow this. “What about her family?”
Fatigue crept into Abigail’s voice. “She found out her name and is going to ask Charlie. Charlie knows a lot about Hopi people.” Again her words tailed off into tears. “But now he’s here because of me.”
“Or because of Nora, if the police are right.”
Abigail’s indignation burst out. “They are most certainly not right. I won’t have you casting aspersions.”
Charlie’s brain was probably so pickled he couldn’t remember his last name, but what if it wasn’t? He might know about Heather. Barrett couldn’t risk Heather finding out. In for a penny, in for a pound: Charlie had to go.
Tainted Mountain Page 24
