At her nod, he continued, “I have a guest house you can stay in until you and your husband can work things out.”
Jessica shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered. Now, next question. Did you kill Sandy Weaver?”
“No,” Jess wheezed, her heart in her throat. “I could never have done such a thing.”
Steven reached for her hands once again. “Easy. I just wanted to look into your eyes when you told me. I believe you, Jessica, and I’ll do everything I can to help you clear your name.”
Jess studied his handsome face. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I covered this case for over three years. A lot of strange things went on that were never investigated. I believe you’re being set up.”
“But why? Why would someone want to murder poor Sandy Weaver, and then make it look as if I did it?”
A muscle tightened in Steven’s jaw. “I believe you pose a threat to the person responsible for Terry Dayton’s disappearance. We just have to figure out who that individual is.”
“I really did see Terry in that upstairs window.” Jessica watched Steven’s eyes for any signs of doubt, but he only stared back at her in open curiosity.
“If you think you saw Terry’s ghost, then I believe you.”
Running a hand down her face, Jessica whispered, “I don’t think I saw him. I know I did.”
“Good enough for me.” He got to his feet.
Jess stood as well. “Where are you going?”
“To see if I can speak with the doctor on staff. Hopefully, we can get you out of here sooner rather than later.”
Jessica hoped so too.
* * * *
Steven returned a half hour later, tension obvious in his every step. Running a hand through his hair, he approached Jessica. “There’s nothing I can do to get you out of here before the seventy-two-hour evaluation period is up. Especially since you’re married, and your husband was the one who had you Baker Acted.”
Jessica hated Owen in that moment. “So I’m stuck here?”
“I’m afraid so. But the good news is, you’ll be free in two more days. In the meantime, I’ll be working on clearing your name.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“By going over old evidence in the Dayton case. There has to be something we overlooked that will lead us in the direction of the person responsible for Terry’s disappearance. Once I get an idea of who that might be, I’ll be one step closer to figuring out who is doing this to you.”
Jessica remained in her seat, her legs too weak to stand. She gazed up into Steven’s determined face. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“I haven’t done anything yet, but I will.” With that, he turned and left.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jessica returned to her hospital room, a sinking feeling in her gut as she heard the door lock behind her.
She moved to sit on the side of her bed, her stomach in knots and her head pounding with a tension headache.
Jess wasn’t sure how long she sat there before the door opened and Cindy appeared. “Come with me.”
“Where am I going?” Jess stood and followed Cindy into the hallway.
“To see Doctor Roberts.”
The walk to the room where the doctor waited was spent with Jessica battling her nerves. Cindy moved along quietly before stopping outside a closed door, knocking softly and then pushing it open.
Jessica stepped inside, her gaze zeroing in on a man sitting in a chair near the center of the room.
He waved toward the chair in front of him, without looking up. “Have a seat Mrs. Nobles.”
The door clicked softly shut with Cindy’s departure.
Jessica lowered herself into the chair and waited for him to finish reading the chart he held in his hand.
He eventually closed the chart and lifted his head. “You can relax, Mrs. Nobles. I’m not going to bite you.”
She noticed that he had kind eyes. “It’s hard for me to relax, Doctor. I’m not even supposed to be here.”
Leaning back and crossing his legs at the knee, the doctor murmured, “Fair enough. Then why don’t you begin by telling me how you came to be here?”
“My husband had me Baker Acted. I didn’t even know such a thing existed.”
The doctor pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket, put them on and opened her chart once more. “Your husband stated that you’ve been hallucinating. He also believes you staged a break in at your residence.”
Anger surfaced, but Jess breathed her way through it. The last thing she needed was to lose her cool in front of the doctor. He alone held the power to prove her not insane. “Just because a person suspects you of something, doesn’t make it the truth.”
“I see. Did you stage the break in at your residence?”
Jessica shook her head. “Of course not. Why would I do such a thing?”
“You tell me.”
It quickly became obvious to Jess that the doctor doubted her innocence in staging the home invasion. “Look. I get it that you deal with mental illness on a daily basis. I also understand why you would be suspicious of my involvement in the break in. But I’m telling you, I did not do it.”
“Tell me about the hallucinations.”
Here it comes, Jess thought, wondering how to respond. “I haven’t been hallucinating. I simply thought I saw something in a window of the abandoned house next door to us. Apparently, it was the glare of the streetlight.”
The doctor flipped a page up on the chart he held. “You didn’t tell you husband that you saw a boy…wearing a striped T-shirt? A boy with long, dark hair that had come up missing in that very house thirteen years before?”
“No,” Jessica lied, holding the doctor’s gaze. “I mentioned to him that a boy disappeared while living in that house, but I never said I saw him. That child would be twenty years old now.”
Doctor Roberts closed the chart and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “If I’m expected to help you, Mrs. Nobles, I’m going to need complete honesty.”
“I am being honest!”
Leaning back once more, the doctor folded his hands on top of Jessica’s chart. “I read the police report. You told Detective Vickerson that you saw Terry Dayton’s ghost in that abandoned house. You also stated that you’d gone to visit the psychic to show her a painting of the boy in a shallow grave—a painting you don’t recall creating. Can you explain that to me?”
She couldn’t explain any of it, so instead of answering, she simply shrugged.
“From what I’ve observed along with your husband’s accounting and the police report, I’m not so sure you’re not experiencing Organic Psychosis. It’s a—”
“I know what it is,” Jess bit out, cutting off the rest of his words. “But you’re wrong. I’m thinking clearer than I have in years.”
“I’d like to keep you here for a couple more days.” He held up a hand when she would have interrupted. “Strictly for observation purposes. I would also like to run a few tests and try you on a different medication than you’ve had in the past.”
Jessica fought back new tears. “I don’t need to be medicated, Doctor Roberts. I’m telling you, I’m fine.”
The doctor set Jessica’s chart on the corner of his desk, uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I’d like to believe that, Mrs. Nobles, but it’s my job to ensure your safety.”
Gaining his feet, the doctor stared down at Jess before offering her his hand.
She stood without assistance and turned for the door. “You can’t keep me in here indefinitely.”
“You’re right about that,” he responded as she gripped the doorknob. “But a judge can. If you don’t help me to help you, you’re tying my hands if your case ends up in a court of law.”
Jessica paused before jerking the door open and nearly running into Cindy.
&
nbsp; The nurse took hold of her elbow. “Let’s return to your room.”
Jessica’s bottom lip trembled, but she bit down on it to prevent herself from crying. She merely nodded, allowing the nurse to escort her back to her temporary prison.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Here are the things you had when you arrived.” Alice slid a white hospital bag through the opening at the bottom of the glass she sat behind.
Jessica accepted the bag with a terse nod and turned to face Steven who waited by the door. “I’m ready.”
He relieved her of the bag she held, opened the door, and stepped back to allow her to pass.
She didn’t speak again until they reached the elevators. “Thank you for picking me up.”
“Not a problem.” He pressed the elevator button. “Besides, I couldn’t very well leave you to your own devices. God knows where you’d end up next.”
Jessica smiled for the first time in days. She seemed to do that a lot when in Steven’s presence. “Are you afraid I might show up at your job and parade naked through the halls, shouting your name?”
“More like afraid you won’t,” he quipped.
Stepping onto the elevator, Jessica sobered. “According to the doctor back there, your fears are warranted.”
“Yeah, well what does he know?” Steven stepped in behind her and pressed the button to the bottom floor.
Jessica grew quiet for a moment, studying Steven’s profile. “Why are you really helping me?”
“I’ve already told you…I believe you.”
“I wouldn’t believe me if I were in your shoes.”
He glanced down at her. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not in my shoes, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
The elevator came to a sudden stop, and the door slid open to reveal a very disheveled, very surprised looking Owen.
He took a step back, his gaze zeroing in on the hospital bag Steven held before shifting back to Jessica. “What’s going on here?”
Jessica folded her arms across her chest and stepped up next to Steven. “I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here, Owen?”
“I was coming to give you a ride home.”
Taking hold of Steven’s arm, Jessica lifted her chin. “I have a ride. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
Owen’s jaw visibly tightened. His eyes narrowed, and his gaze swung in Steven’s direction. “Who the hell are you?”
“You don’t get to ask that,” Jessica snapped before Steven had a chance to respond.
“I’m your husband, Jess. I believe I have a right to know who the man is that my wife is clinging so tightly to.”
Jessica had to force her teeth apart to answer him. “You gave up any rights you had to me when you put me in this place.”
Defeat took up residence in Owen’s eyes. “I did what I thought was best. If you would just talk to me, I—”
“Move!” Jessica snapped, holding her husband’s gaze.
He hesitated a moment longer and then stepped to the side.
Jessica clung tightly to Steven’s arm as he led her from the elevator and down the hall to the exit.
“I apologize for that,” she rushed out the second they cleared the hospital doors. “Had I known we would run into him, I would have suggested we take the stairs.”
Steven jerked his chin toward a row of vehicles not far from the hospital entrance. “I’m parked over there. And you have nothing to apologize for. You couldn’t have known he’d be there.”
Jessica made her way to Steven’s car and opened the passenger side door. “No, but I should have guessed he would.”
Steven got behind the wheel and inserted the key into the ignition. “Where would you like to go?”
“Anywhere but home.”
The car started on cue. “Anywhere, it is.”
Jessica snapped on her seatbelt, relieved to feel the air conditioning blowing on her overheated face. She turned to stare out the window, watching as the hospital slowly disappeared from view.
It took her a second to realize Steven was speaking to her. She twisted her head around to face him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you were hungry.”
She wasn’t, but she couldn’t recall the last time she’d eaten anything. “A little. Whatever you want is fine by me. I’m not particular.”
“My kind of woman,” Steven teased, pulling onto the main road. He quickly sped toward the busy intersection in the distance, leaving Owen and that dreadful hospital far behind.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jessica finished everything on her plate and was working on dessert when Steven leaned back in his chair with a groan.
“I can’t eat another bite,” he pointed out unnecessarily, nodding toward his now empty dish.
Jess picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. “That was delicious. I had no idea how hungry I actually was until I took the first bite.”
“I’ve always been a huge fan of Mexican food.” Steven took a drink of his water before continuing. “It’s second only to sushi in my book.”
“Sushi is my favorite as well.” She picked up her sweating water glass, watching the small ice-cubes float around inside. “I have to figure out a way to clear my name.”
Returning his glass to the table, Steven held her gaze for long moments. “I agree. We just need to figure out where to start.”
“I think we should begin with Eustice Martin.”
Steven didn’t blink. “Easy enough. We can go back to my office and pull up everything I had on him from years ago. But that’s only going to get us so far. We need to find out what was used to write the words on your wall, and also see if we can locate Sandy Weaver’s murder weapon.”
“You think Eustice would keep the murder weapon just lying around? Assuming he did it, that is.”
With a shrug, Steven dug his wallet out of his pocket. “Hard to say, but since he’s not a suspect, I doubt he’d go out of his way to hide it. Especially if he intends to use it to frame you.”
Jessica’s heart summersaulted. “Frame me?”
“If he killed Sandy Weaver, it was to make it look as if you did it. Otherwise, what would be the point in killing her?”
“Maybe because she was a psychic, and he worried she might see something?”
Steven shook his head. “Doubtful. If she hadn’t seen anything before now or turned him in after thirteen years for threatening her, he probably didn’t consider her a threat. No, I’m thinking someone killed her to make you look guilty.”
Jessica’s food settled like a brick in her stomach. “He’s the only one who had motive to kill her.”
“Perhaps, but we don’t know that for certain. We have no idea what all she was involved in. She could have been killed for reasons that had nothing to do with you, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Then they might never know who killed her. Which will always leave me their prime suspect.”
Laying enough money on the table to cover the bill and the tip, Steven pushed his chair back and stood. “Stop worrying, Jess. As long as they don’t have a murder weapon, that’s all you’ll ever be to them…a suspect.”
Jess didn’t want to be suspected of killing Sandy any more than she wanted Owen suspecting her of breaking into their home and leaving those words on the wall. “I just want this all to end, Steven.”
“I know you do.” He offered her his hand, which she readily accepted.
How was it that a man she barely knew could make her feel safe and protected, while her own husband—the man who’d vowed to cherish her until death do they part—could betray her?
Steven’s warm palm closed around her hand, his thumb grazing softly over her knuckles. “I promise you, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“I wish I had your optimism.”
Another swipe of his thumb across her knuckles. “I wasn’t always so optimistic. It took years of digging, researching, and b
loodhounding to develop that particular skill. I’ve learned that the truth can always be found if you dig deep enough.”
Once they reached the car, Steven released his hold on her hand and unlocked her door. “You’re welcome to the guesthouse if you need a place to crash for a while.”
“I couldn’t possibly impose.” She ducked into the passenger seat.
Steven closed her door, skirted the front of the car and got behind the wheel. “It’s no imposition. In fact, stay as long as you’d like.”
* * * *
Jessica wasn’t sure how she felt about staying in Steven’s guesthouse, but the alternative would be a motel room without transportation. She highly doubted that Owen would allow her access to her car, especially after her earlier stunt in the elevator.
The look in Owen’s eyes had secretly torn at Jessica’s heart, yet for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. He didn’t trust her, and he’d gone so far as to accuse her of staging the break in. Not to mention having her Baker Acted.
She moved around the small guesthouse, admiring the furnishings. Steven had excellent taste, she noted, running the palm of her hand along the back of a red loveseat. Owen had never taken an interest in their home’s décor, leaving all the furnishing decisions to Jess.
Why was she comparing the two men as if they were in some sort of competition? Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Steven trusted her. He didn’t think her crazy or unhinged, and if he did, he hid it well.
A knock sounded on the door, startling Jess.
“It’s open,” she called, knowing without looking that it would be Steven.
He stepped into the room, holding a thick folder in his arms. “I thought we could start here.”
Jessica nodded toward the folder. “What is that?”
“Some of the notes I took when I was covering the Dayton boy’s disappearance.”
Steven set the folder down on a small coffee table and took a seat on the red loveseat. Taking hold of the corner, he flipped the folder open. “Have a look.”
The Boy in the Window: A Psychological Thriller Page 11
