Stu looked down toward his waist and pulled up the black T-shirt to reveal a bleeding slash across his stomach. “But he—he took a little chunk out of me first.”
Anna gasped. “Oh my God, Stu.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I don’t feel so hot.”
“Hold on, Stu,” she said. Unsteadily, Anna got to her feet. She tugged at the last knot to the weight-laden rope around her waist. It fell to the floor of the boat with a loud thump. Then she turned and switched on the outboard motor. She gave the cord a yank, and then another. The engine roared.
As the boat accelerated, Anna fell back onto the bench. She grabbed hold of the tiller and began to direct the boat back toward her dock. “Do you have a phone?” she anxiously called over the droning motor. “Stu? If you don’t have a phone, pat her down to see if she has one.”
Her big brother sat across from her as if in a stupor. He didn’t seem to hear her.
“Stu, see if she has a phone and call 911! Tell them we need an ambulance to meet us at the dock. Stu . . .”
He started to sway and then flopped back against Taylor’s listless body.
Anna let go of the tiller to reach for her brother. But the boat started to careen out of control. All she could do was pull the bottom of his T-shirt over the crimson slash across his stomach. She figured the material might slow the bleeding a bit. She grabbed the tiller again and plopped back onto the bench. “Hang in there, Stu!” she called out breathlessly.
Water sprayed on either side of the boat as they sped toward her dock. Anna didn’t know where else to go. She didn’t know how long it would take to find a phone and call for help. She kept thinking her brother might bleed to death before she got ahold of the police.
She started crying. “Stu, don’t give up on me, please!”
Still sprawled on top of Taylor, her brother was unresponsive. His eyes were open, but the color had drained from his face.
Anna reached over and held on to his leg.
They were approaching the floating homes and houseboats now. In the distance, she could see her dock. Someone had turned on the light to her back deck.
As the boat sped closer, Anna spotted a uniformed policeman on the little deck. Another policeman ran up the dock. He was waving at them and talking into his shoulder mic. The flashing red lights of patrol cars shone through the trees along the water’s edge.
Someone had already called the police for her.
EPILOGUE
Friday, July 31—3:15 P.M.
Russ had a private room at Swedish Hospital. Because of his many friends, associates, and patients—and all the people who thought he’d died—the room was full of cards, flowers, blooming plants, and balloons. Right now, the room was also full of interns and a couple of residents, reviewing Russ’s post-op progress.
Anna had told Russ that she’d be by at three-thirty, and she was early. So she stood outside the room and waited for them to finish up. She already knew all about Russ’s injuries, which included ruptures to his spleen and diaphragm, a punctured lung, three broken ribs, two fractured ribs, a broken arm, a broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, several sprains and bruises, and multiple cuts and lacerations that required a total of fifty-seven stitches. None of the stitches were on his handsome face, which had escaped injury. His two surgeries had been quite successful, and his recovery, so far, was exemplary. He’d just been moved out of the ICU the day before. Anna listened to them talking in the next room. As they discussed Russ’s case, the residents seemed to congratulate themselves. Russ was joking with them, charming everyone in the room.
Everyone loved him now that he’d come back from the dead an innocent man.
Anna loved him, too—for thinking of her while he’d been bleeding and broken on the side of Route 72 in Edmonds. He’d told the paramedics who arrived upon the scene to send the police to her address and make sure she was okay. For that, Anna would always be grateful.
She’d visited him every day. Anna had been there at the hospital while he’d undergone his surgeries. It was strange in the waiting room, meeting some of his other friends and associates for the first time. All of them had been cordial to her, but she’d still felt like the other woman, as if she’d been brazen just for showing up.
For the first couple of days of Russ’s hospitalization, Anna had been met by the press as she’d come and gone from her houseboat and from Swedish Hospital. They’d asked her for updates on Russ’s medical condition. To Anna, that had felt strange, too, because she wasn’t his wife. Up until recently, she wasn’t even supposed to know him. She’d been so accustomed to keeping their relationship a secret, that now, talking about him in public seemed completely reckless and shameful.
It was silly, and shouldn’t have mattered, but Anna felt like everyone was judging her. Of course, it was no help that Courtney was still Saint Courtney as far as the media and general public were concerned. Courtney’s book sales continued to soar. Entertainment Weekly had just published a profile on her—with a half-page sidebar speculating about which teenage superstars would be cast in the movie version of The Defective Squad. Courtney’s publisher had just announced that a percentage of her book sale profits would be donated to the American Society for Deaf Children, a decision Courtney had nothing to do with, but which still made her seem beyond reproach.
Even Taylor Hofstad’s confession—with a detailed account of the murder and its aftermath—had portrayed Courtney as an exceptional human being. According to Taylor, it had all been an accident, a misunderstanding, a “temporary insanity thing.” Courtney never would have said those cruel things had she not been drunk. They’d been the best of friends.
Taylor had dictated her confession solely in sign language. Her broken jaw had been wired shut, and she wouldn’t be able to talk for the next six weeks. She was currently residing in the King County jail infirmary, where she was under twenty-four-hour suicide watch.
Taylor’s friend, Christian Jared (CJ) Holmes, had died from a stab wound to the chest while aboard a secondhand Monterey sports cruiser, which Taylor had purchased for him earlier in the year. If Sally Justice had had her daughter’s friend investigated, she would have discovered that CJ had a list of prior offenses that included attempted criminal assault, aggravated kidnapping, reckless endangerment, burglary, and forgery. He’d also had several aliases, including the name Bud.
Fans of Sally Justice had been settling for The Best of Sally Justice on the 24/7 News Network for the last four nights. Anna wondered if Sally would retire or return to her show with its usual format. It seemed a bit incongruous for the mother of a confessed murderer to carry on as the beacon of righteousness five nights a week.
Sally hadn’t made a public statement since the weekend debacle. She’d avoided the press, who had focused their unwanted attention on her more than they had on Russ and Anna. The number of reporters by Anna’s dock gate and outside the entrance to Swedish Hospital had steadily diminished in the last few days. When Anna had left her place a half hour ago, there hadn’t been a reporter in sight.
With her back against the wall of the hospital corridor, Anna tried to make herself invisible to the doctors filing out of Russ’s room. She overheard two stragglers among the group, a couple of residents, talking as they headed down the hallway.
“Talk about a hunk,” the redhead murmured. “I wouldn’t mind helping him feel better.”
“Yeah, well, wait in line behind several nurses and orderlies,” her tall male cohort replied. “Besides, haven’t you been paying attention to the news? He’s been screwing that reporter from KIXI-TV for about a year now.”
“You’re kidding,” she said, and then laughed. “Didn’t his wife just get murdered or something?”
They continued down the hallway, and Anna couldn’t hear them anymore.
She put on a smile and stepped into Russ’s room.
In a hospital gown, Russ sat in bed with a cast on his arm and his bandaged leg elevated. He looked better than he ha
d yesterday, even healthier and handsomer. One of those nurses or orderlies who had a crush on him must have washed his hair and given him a crisp, new gown this morning. He’d just picked up the latest Erik Larson book from his nightstand, but set it down again when he saw Anna. “Hey, you,” he said, smiling.
She kissed him on the lips. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“They’re weaning me off the painkillers, so I’m sore, but a little less loopy. I see a nap in my future—probably within the hour.”
“Well, I won’t stay long,” Anna said. She’d been ready to pull the chair over to his bedside, but now decided against it.
“That wasn’t a hint or anything, babe,” Russ said. He reached out and took her hand. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I even got freshened up for you.”
Anna let go of his hand to run her fingers through his hair. “Yeah, looks like someone washed your hair for you.”
“Jesse. He used dry shampoo, which is basically like baby powder that he sprinkled in and brushed out. I’ve been dry-cleaned. How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing okay,” she said, not very convincingly. “Have you had any other visitors today?”
“Heather Barclay was here just before the doctors came in for rounds.”
“How come I don’t know that name?” Anna asked.
“She’s the woman who hit me with her car. She’s about twenty-five, very pretty, and sweet. She was really nervous about meeting me, and all apologies. I thanked her for calling the ambulance and sticking around.”
“Twenty-five, pretty, and sweet,” Anna repeated, cracking a tiny smile. “If you two got married, think of the story you could tell people about how you met.”
Russ grinned, but narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I was just kidding. Was she your only visitor?”
“No, Cliff came by this morning. He was singing your praises, by the way.”
Anna worked up a smile. Cliff McKenna was one of the doctors at Russ’s clinic. Anna had heard Russ talk about him for over a year. But she hadn’t actually met Cliff until just a couple of days ago here in the hospital.
“He’s a big fan of your news stories,” Russ said. “He was talking about how great it was to meet you.”
Anna sighed. “You don’t have to say that, Russ.”
“But it’s the truth. I don’t understand.” He took hold of her hand again and gave her a look of concern. “What’s wrong, honey? I noticed it yesterday, too. You’ve been acting like a stranger.”
She shrugged again. “I feel like one.”
“Well, what is it? Did one of my friends say anything to upset you?”
She shook her head. “No, they’ve all been perfectly nice.”
“Listen,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We’re going to get over this hump, you know. We both just need some recovery time. I feel bad that I can’t be there for you right now. But once I get out of this hospital bed and get my life back in order, I can focus more on you.”
“The thing of it is, Russ, I’m not sure I want that,” she heard herself say.
He carefully took his hand away.
“It sounds like—after more than a year—you’re finally ready to fit me into a slot in your life.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. If it sounded that way, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too, Russ. During the past two weeks, something that should have been painfully obvious to me for a long time finally hit me. If you really loved me, you would’ve left Courtney a long time ago.”
“You never asked me to.”
“I was afraid to ask. And I shouldn’t have had to ask. You know, my friend George, he hasn’t even kissed me. But he and his wife broke up because of me.”
“I thought she left him, not the other way around.”
Anna nodded. “Yeah, she left him because of me—to hear her tell it. The point I’m trying to make is that you weren’t willing to change your life around for me. And I kind of feel like you still aren’t willing to change. It’s like you’re going to get out of here, get on with your life, and the only difference is that I’ll have replaced Courtney.”
“No, the difference is you and I love each other,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s out of kilter. I made a lot of concessions for you. I was willing to give up a lot. I don’t think you were ready to do that for me.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Are we breaking up?”
“Well, we kind of broke up on the phone about two weeks ago—before you died. Remember?”
He let out a stunned little laugh. “Yeah, I guess. That one was on me, wasn’t it?”
Nodding, Anna placed her hand on the side rail to his hospital bed. “Do you hate me for doing this to you now? I know my timing seems terrible.”
“You’ve obviously been thinking about this for a while,” he said. “Why have you been coming here every day when, all along, in the back of your mind you must have thought . . .” He trailed off. Then he sighed and shook his head.
“I’ve come here every day because I care about you, stupid,” she said. “I still care.”
He turned and gazed out the window for a moment.
When he finally looked at her again, he had tears in his eyes.
Russ smiled reluctantly and rested his hand on top of hers. He didn’t say anything.
Anna was grateful for that.
There was nothing he could have said.
On her way back from the hospital, Anna drove through Capitol Hill. She slowed down as she approached an old three-story brick apartment building on the corner behind the Harvard Market. Until three days ago, she’d never even noticed the place.
But on Tuesday morning, she’d gotten a call from a woman named Mackenzie who lived there. “Your brother, Stuart, has been staying with me off and on for the last few days, and some of his stuff is here,” Mackenzie had explained. “Do you want it?”
Anna had driven there that afternoon. Though the building looked like a beautiful old classic from the outside, the inside was decayed and ratty. Mackenzie, a blonde in her late twenties, had looked rather the worse for wear herself. Anna guessed that the young woman and Stu must have had drugs in common—among other things.
Mackenzie had given Anna two paper bags full of stuff—mostly clothes. But there was also a large, frayed manila envelope, which held old newspaper and magazine clippings about Anna—from the time she’d started doing stories for the TV station in Spokane up through a photo of her at a charity auction in Seattle Met magazine two months ago. He’d also held on to that awful grade-school graduation photo of her with bad hair and braces.
Anna had given Mackenzie a hundred dollars for her troubles. The young woman had counted the bills in front of her and looked slightly disappointed it wasn’t more.
When she’d gotten home, Anna had found some pawn tickets in the pocket of a pair of jeans. On Wednesday, she’d tracked down the pawn shop. Two ticketed items had sold in the meantime. But for $600, she’d been able to buy back nearly all of the family heirlooms Stu had hocked.
It was strange to pass by that old brick apartment building now. The place suddenly meant something to her, because Stu had stayed there briefly.
He’d died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
Yesterday, Anna had purchased a burial plot for him—beside their mother’s grave in Port Blakely Cemetery on Bainbridge Island. Anna knew Stu wouldn’t have cared where he was buried, but their mom would have wanted him home again.
* * *
Anna had a good cry in the car on the way home.
While walking from the carport to her dock, she decided she’d drown her sorrows tonight with Roman Holiday on Prime and a pizza and salad from Pagliacci.
She turned down the pathway toward her dock and found George waiting there by the gate with a bouquet of mixed flowers. “Don’t you ju
st hate people who drop by without any advance word whatsoever?” he asked.
Anna laughed. “Not when the person is you.” She wanted to hug him but, instead, just patted him on the arm. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Not very,” he said. “Listen, I have good news. They want you back at work.”
She glanced at the flowers. “Oh, are those from them?”
“No, they’re from me, you silly goose. I’ve missed you. I feel bad that we haven’t seen each other these last few days.”
“I’ve missed you, too, George,” she said. “I really have.”
“Like I told you on the phone, I’m really sorry about your brother.”
“Thanks,” Anna murmured. She unlocked the gate and took the flowers from him. “Would you like to come in?”
He nodded and smiled. Then they started walking down the dock together. The sun was shining, and the lake buzzed with activity. Several boats were out on the water. Kids screamed and laughed on a neighboring pier.
George bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, did you hear that Sally Justice announced her retirement today?”
“You’re kidding,” Anna said, surprised.
“Nope, no more new shows. You’d think she’d go before the cameras just one more time to apologize to you and the good doctor for all the pain she’s inflicted on you guys. But I guess that’s expecting too much from her. People don’t change.”
“Some people can,” Anna said. “That goes for Sally, too. Maybe her retiring is apology enough.”
“So, are you coming back to the station?” George asked. “I want to start working with you again.”
“I don’t know, George. Do you think it would be too much for us to be working together and dating at the same time?”
He stopped abruptly. “Are you serious? Do you really want to give it a try? You’re not worried we might screw up our friendship or some such bullshit?”
The Night She Disappeared Page 39
