by Sharon Sala
“No visitors. I’m sorry.”
He disconnected with a measure of relief. For now she wasn’t talking, but, damn it, she was still alive. He’d come so close to a perfect sweep, and now this. His first thought was to pack and run, and then it hit him.
“What the hell’s wrong with me?” he muttered. “Even if she never wakes up, even if she dies, they’ll still be looking for a killer, and I’ll be the one who left town right after the shootings.”
Right now he had to deal with more immediate issues, so he began to run through scenarios as to how to rectify this mess. He needed to make sure she never woke up, but how to get to her? He would bet his life there were guards on her around the clock. Trey Jakes wasn’t a fool. His sister was his star witness—if she lived.
But even if he couldn’t get to Trina’s room, he could still get to the hospital. It could catch fire. It could blow up. There were all kinds of things that could happen in such a volatile environment. The fact that many more lives would be lost was of no consequence. They would be nothing but collateral damage.
* * *
It was beginning to rain as Trey left the parking lot and headed back into the hospital. Lee’s text stated ICU visiting hours were from 10:00 a.m. to noon, from 2:00 p.m. to 4:00, and from 6:00 p.m. to 8:00. Tough. Even though it was midnight, he wanted to see his sister’s face.
He took the elevator up to the third floor and was on his way to the ICU waiting room when Lee stepped out into the hall.
“I was just coming to look for you,” Lee said.
“Why? Did something happen? Is she worse?”
“No, but we aren’t going to get to see her until tomorrow.”
“No, we’re going to see her now, even if I have to throw my weight around to do it,” Trey said.
Lee shoved a shaky hand through his hair. There was something he needed to say to Trey before this day got any older.
“Wait a second, okay? Before we go in, I need to apologize to you.”
Trey frowned. “Why?”
“For being such an ass...for hurting Trina like I did. It all had to do with shit from my childhood, but that’s no excuse, because I’m no longer a child. I apologized to her at the memorial service. We were going to meet tomorrow and talk.” Lee’s voice was starting to shake. “When I think of how close she came to not having a tomorrow, it makes me sick. I love her, Trey. So much. I’m with her for the long haul and, if she’ll have me, for the rest of our lives.”
Trey had new respect for Lee. Those words couldn’t have been easy to get said.
“I appreciate your honesty, man. Now let’s go see our girl. She might not know we’re there, but I need to know she’s still breathing.”
Lee managed a brief smile and walked with Trey to ICU. It was two minutes after midnight when they entered. Lights were on, and nurses were moving in and out of the patients’ rooms. Trey paused at the front desk.
“Which room is Trina Jakes in?” he asked.
Clarice Powell, the RN on duty, was about to send the man packing when she looked up.
“Oh, hello, Chief. You know this is past visiting hours.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
She was sympathetic to all his family had been through, and wasn’t about to push the issue.
“Your sister is in 12B.”
“Thank you, Clarice, and to give you a heads-up, she’s going to have to have guards around the clock and a no-visitors sign on her door. No one except for immediate family. I’ll give you a list of names.”
“Dr. Lowell told us. We’ll take care of her, and we’re very sorry for your loss. Your mother was a good friend to everyone who knew her,” she said.
“Thank you, Clarice. Oh...just so you know, this is Lee Daniels. He’s Trina’s significant other, so he’ll be in and out as much as the rest of us, okay?”
Clarice eyed Lee closely. “I know you from somewhere.”
“I work for Peterson Heat and Air.”
“Right! You worked on my central air last May.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lee said. “You said 12B?”
“That way,” she said, as she pointed to her left.
They started down the aisle, trying not to stare at the patients inside the glass-walled cubicles. The beeping of so many heart monitors accompanied them down the hall. Between the steady stream of nurses moving in and out of rooms and the occasional groan or cry for help from someone sick or dying, it was a depressing place to be.
The last time Trey had been in a place with this many seriously ill patients was the VA hospital right after they’d flown Sam stateside. He wondered about the PTSD that had haunted Sam for so long and if this place would trigger a flashback. He’d witnessed a couple of them during the first year Sam was home, and they’d given him pause. They’d also helped him understand why Sam had chosen to stay away. At that time in his life, he could easily have hurt someone he loved.
But while Trey was lost in thought, Lee was looking for the woman he loved.
“There!” Lee said, and lengthened his stride as he darted into the next bay.
Then he stopped just inside the doorway, too stunned to go farther, as Trey hurried past him. Trina was as pale as the sheet on which she was lying, and hooked up to a half-dozen machines. He didn’t know which ones were keeping her alive and which ones were monitoring her vital signs. The room looked like a lab scene from a bad movie. He couldn’t think. He forgot to breathe.
Trey, on the other hand, had seen her covered in blood and been sure she was dead. The fact that he could hear her heartbeat made all of this reassuring.
The nurse who had just finished checking Trina’s vitals and was adjusting the drip on the IV heard footsteps behind her. She turned and quickly recognized Trey.
“Hello, Chief. Really sorry about your mother.”
“Hi, Annie. We’re all sorry about Mom. Our gift is that Trina is still alive. How’s she doing?” he asked.
“Holding her own,” she said.
Lee took a breath and moved closer. Those were the words he needed to hear.
“Annie, this is Lee Daniels. Lee, Annie Dixon. Annie and I grew up together.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Lee said.
“Not ma’am, just Annie,” the nurse said. “I’m going to get her another blanket. I’ll be right back.”
Trey moved to one side of the bed while Lee went to the other. Trey reached toward Trina and rubbed the back of his finger against her cheek.
“Hey, Trina. It’s me, Trey. Just want you to know that you’re safe. You’re in ICU. Sam is on his way home. We love you. Just rest and get well.”
Lee was struggling for words and fighting back tears as he slid his hand beneath hers so that he could hold it.
“Hi, baby. It’s Lee. I just want you to know I love you. Like Trey said, just sleep and heal.”
The stillness of her body was frightening. Even though they both knew she was in a drug-induced coma, she looked as close to dead as a person could and still be breathing.
Trey and Lee kept talking to her, but when Annie Dixon came back with the blanket, she ran them out.
“Sorry, guys. Visiting time is over.”
“Bye for now, sis. I’ll be back,” Trey said as he patted Trina’s shoulder, and then walked away.
Lee leaned over the bed rail and kissed her forehead.
“Love you, baby,” he said softly, and then caught up with Trey, who was writing down the names of the people who were allowed to visit for Clarice.
“Under no circumstance is anyone else to see her. Not even a preacher, okay?”
The nurse’s eyes widened. “Surely you don’t suspect—”
“Right now I suspect everyone,” Trey muttered and pushed the doors wide as he exited.
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Lee caught them and slipped out before they shut. “There’s no one on guard yet,” he said.
Trey stopped short, his shoulders slumping. He should have noticed that, but he was so tired and so stressed he was losing focus. “You’re right.”
“I can do it,” Lee said.
“A security team is on the way. They’ll be here within a couple of hours.”
“Then, let me do it until they show. Please, Trey. I need to do this for her.”
Trey went back into ICU with Lee beside him.
“Clarice, I have a security team on the way, but until they get here, I’m assigning Lee Daniels to the job. He’ll sit in a chair just outside her room without bothering her or any of your medical staff in any way. His job will be to follow anyone who goes into her room and observe everything they do until they leave, understand?”
“Yes. Come with me, Mr. Daniels.”
Lee glanced back at Trey. “Thank you,” he said and hurried to catch up.
Trey left ICU again, but in a different state than when he’d entered. His horror at what had happened was slowly being replaced with rage. Three people had been killed on his watch. Now Trina was in as much danger as the others had been. Even as he was thinking about the guards who would be with her, he realized there was a weak link in his plan to keep her safe. If the killer worked in the hospital, he had just unwittingly dumped her back in the bastard’s lap.
The first thing he had to do was get the names of everyone who’d graduated with his mother, and then find out where they were and what they did for a living so he could eliminate them as suspects. And he knew exactly where to start.
It was raining like hell when he walked out of the hospital, and even though he ran to the cruiser, he was soaked by the time he got in.
He glanced at the time.
Almost twenty minutes after twelve. It was tomorrow. Sam would be here soon, and knowing Sam, the shit was likely to hit the fan.
* * *
Lainey couldn’t sleep, but it had nothing to do with the storm, even though wind was blowing rain against the windows. Intermittent lightning and thunder rattled the panes. Although it was after midnight she was pacing the floor from room to room, unable to settle down. All the lights were on, and so was the television, because she wanted the noise.
The fact that Sam Jakes was coming back to Mystic had thrown her life out of rhythm. It had taken her years to get over him and get on with her life. At least she’d thought she was over him until Dallas’s phone call. All she’d done since the call was relive the past. Earlier she had tried to convince herself that hating him would keep her safe. He’d already broken her heart. But hate was an emotion that didn’t go with Sam Jakes.
When he’d first flown back to the States, she had understood the level of pain he was in and why he was unable to take phone calls. But she hadn’t understood why he refused to see her. Still, she coped with disappointment by sending notes and cards via his family, even though he never sent a single message back.
She’d waited and waited and tried not to feel excluded from the healing journey he was on, until, finally, she broke. He obviously didn’t want to see her, and she wanted to know why, so she left Mystic in secret and drove all the way to the VA hospital without telling anyone she was going.
It was five days before Christmas, and the day was bitter cold. She had wrapped her mother’s blue wool scarf around her to block the air from blowing down the neck of her coat and tied a matching blue ribbon into her hair. Her hands were shaking as she entered the hospital, and her voice broke when she asked for the number of his room.
It wasn’t until she was approaching his door that it dawned on her she might run into some of his family. Nervous all over again, she hesitated for a few moments outside the door, listening until she was certain he was alone, and then carefully slipped into his room, only to find him sleeping.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t what she saw. In that moment she began to understand why he had shut her out. She saw the man lying in that bed and was unable to find any part of the Sam Jakes she knew beneath the bandages. When he began to stir, she’d bolted in a panic and left without anyone knowing she was there.
After she got home she kept telling herself that when he got better she would go again, but she didn’t, and then one day she called Betsy for an update and found out that he’d been out of the hospital almost a month and no one knew where he was.
That was when she realized she’d been abandoned. He hadn’t given her a chance to prove she could love him no matter how he looked. He’d just made the decision for her. It had taken her years to get over the heartbreak and to realize she hadn’t fought for herself when he was rejecting her. Now when she thought of Sam it was with disappointment in the man she’d thought she knew. Her dilemma now was how to feel about seeing him again.
* * *
Trey Jakes’ first job this morning had taken him straight back to Mystic High. He hadn’t been inside the school since the day he graduated, and he was mildly surprised by the updates, even if it did still smell like school.
He headed straight for the superintendent’s office and took off his hat as he approached the secretary.
“Ma’am, I need to speak to Mr. Porter, please.”
The secretary was startled by the appearance of the police chief and wondered if one of their students had done something wrong. “Just a moment,” she said.
Trey waited as she went to let her boss know he was there. Then the outer door to Will Porter’s office opened, and he was standing in the doorway.
“Chief Jakes, come in,” Will said, and stepped aside as Trey walked in. “Have a seat.”
Will was suddenly anxious. He’d finally made a decision to run for state superintendent and had been in the act of filling out the paperwork when Trey Jakes arrived. Now he was wondering why a cop was sitting in his office.
“Now, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“Do you have back copies of the high school yearbooks? Particularly the 1980 yearbook?” Trey asked.
Will’s eyes widened.
“I don’t think the school does, but I have one at home,” Will said. “I would be glad to loan it to you.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Trey said. “Can I stop by the house and pick it up?”
Will frowned. Even though it was early in the day, God only knew what shape his wife would be in.
“My wife isn’t home right now, so why don’t I run by the house and pick it up? I’ll drop it off at the precinct for you, okay?”
Trey nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. I’ll make sure to return it as soon as we’ve gotten the information we need.”
“This has to do with the murders, doesn’t it?” Will asked.
“Yes, sir, it does,” Trey said.
“Do you think someone from my class is doing this?”
Trey shrugged. “I think it has to do with the school. Whether it has to do with your class or not is another subject.”
“I don’t know what I think, except that what’s happened is a tragedy,” Will said.
“That it is,” Trey said. “So I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for your help,” he added as he stood. “Don’t get up, I’ll let myself out.”
As soon as Trey was gone, Will grabbed his keys and left his office, only pausing for a moment to tell his secretary where he was going, and then hurried home.
* * *
It was nearly 11:00 a.m. when Sam Jakes came around the curve in the road and saw the Mystic city-limits sign. He’d done this so many times in his dreams that there was a part of him that thought he was still dreaming, that he wasn’t actually there.
Then he passed a man walking down the side of the road with a stringer of fish over his shoulder and not onl
y identified the kind of fish the man had caught but also recognized the face. It was one of the Pryor brothers who lived up on the mountain. This had never been part of the dream. This had to be real.
He drove into town with a knot in his belly, and the farther he went, the bigger it grew. He slowed down as he passed the police precinct but didn’t stop and kept driving north until he saw the motel.
He was stiff from the drive and stood for a few moments after he got out, stretching his legs and letting the muscles relax. After he entered he paused at the counter, thinking the woman looked familiar, and then realized this was going to be a continuing thing. Just because he’d left Mystic didn’t mean everyone else had, too.
“Welcome to Mystic,” she said, and then gasped.
“Sam Jakes! Oh, my word! It’s been ages.” Then her expression fell. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. “I think Trey reserved a room for me.” He slid a credit card across the counter.
“Yes, he did, but he didn’t say it was for you. You don’t remember me, do you? I’m Delia Summers. Your mother was one of my best friends.”
Sam eyed her closer, seeing the woman she’d been beneath the extra weight and white hair.
“Yes, now I do. It’s good to see you again,” he said.
She scanned the credit card, gave it back and then handed him the room key.
“Room 130. It’s around back, which will give you a little more privacy.”
He was surprised by her thoughtfulness.
“I appreciate it, Mrs. Summers.”
“Delia! Please! And give Trey my best. We all have Trina in our prayers.”
He left the office and drove around back and easily found the door to his room. He swiped the key card and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the furnishings as he went in. It had a tan carpet, brown-and-gold bedding and tan-and-gold curtains.
He left his suitcase on the bed and sent Trey a text that he was in town. Now that he was there, he felt the need to hurry and get to Trina. He washed up in haste, and when he saw Trey hadn’t returned the text, he began to worry. Being chief of police in your own hometown had to have its own set of challenges.
