Hidden in the Stars

by Robin Caroll

  “Good evening.” The charge nurse came into the room, carrying Sophia’s chart. “I understand you have some questions about your treatment?”

  Charlie stood. “I’m Charlie Wallace, Sophia’s lip reader. She has some questions. I’ll translate exactly what she’s asking, okay?”

  The nurse nodded.

  Charlie stared at Sophia.

  “Dr. Rhoads had told me yesterday that when the swelling went down in my throat, I could eat. Does my chart have any indication when it could happen?”

  The nurse flipped pages. “Looks like the swelling hadn’t gone down enough when he examined you this morning.” She looked up from the chart. “Are you hungry?”

  Sophia nodded. All afternoon, her stomach had made the loudest rumblings.

  “I’ll make a note for the doctor to review it in the morning. How is your pain with your throat tonight?”

  Sophia swallowed. It didn’t feel like she was trying to eat razor blades. “Better.”

  The nurse scribbled.

  “I haven’t seen the hand surgeon. Shouldn’t I have?”

  Again, the nurse flipped through papers in the chart. “Your surgery was early Friday morning. Your surgeon has reviewed your chart notes several times.”

  “But he hasn’t been here to see me. To answer my questions.”

  “He should be in Monday morning. If you’d like, I can make a note you request to see him during rounds.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes at Charlie.

  “Please do.”

  The nurse scribbled, then looked up. “Anything else?”

  She wasn’t rude, exactly, but Sophia got the distinct feeling the nurse felt like she had more important things to do than answer her questions. “Is there any indication when I can get up and walk?”

  “According to your chart, your pelvis should only need one more day of rest. I would expect Dr. Rhoads will talk to you about that tomorrow.”

  “What time does the doctor usually make rounds on Sunday?” Charlie asked, although Sophia hadn’t.

  “Oh, Dr. Rhoads is normally on the floor around ten or so on Sundays.”

  “Good. Thank you for your time.”

  The nurse nodded and left.

  Sophia looked at Charlie. “That was interesting,” she mouthed.

  “Rude, much?” Charlie laughed. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning when your doctor makes rounds so I can talk for you.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother.” But inside, Sophia was pleased Charlie would be able to translate for her.

  “Nonsense. I’m happy to help.” Charlie stood and squeezed Sophia’s foot. “I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some rest, okay?”

  Once Charlie left, Sophia closed her eyes. God, I’m really struggling. With everything. You know my heart. You know my pain. Lord, please give me comfort. Please.

  7

  Why am I not surprised you’re here so bright and early?”

  Julian looked up from his monitor and smiled at his partner. “Early bird gets the worm, you know.”

  Brody dropped into his chair across the desks from him. “Anything new to report?”

  “Nothing yet. I’ve called forensics and they’re going as fast as they can, but there’s nothing concrete yet.” He leaned back in his chair and reached for his keychain. “How about you?”

  “I’ve sent a unit over to the crime scene to see if they can find a diary or journal of Nina’s.”

  “Doubtful, but we can always hope.”

  “Oh, and I got the background check on Alena Borin.” Brody waved a folder.

  Julian dropped his keychain and reached for his notebook and pen. “Give me the edited version.”

  “Alena Borin, sixty-one, moved to the United States from Russia twenty-eight years ago on a special work visa, leaving behind her husband, Vlad Borin. They never divorced, despite her leaving him. And I do mean leaving him. When she left the motherland, she never returned. She applied for American citizenship for herself and her daughter, Nina Borin, three years after moving to the United States. They lived in D.C. for five years before moving to New York City. They only lived there before she moved to Arkansas. Currently lives in Hot Springs. No full-time job, but the quilts she makes are very sought after.”

  “That’s it?”

  Brody nodded. “Pretty much. What’s interesting is she was a dancer in her youth, too. Not as accomplished as her daughter. From what I understand, she had the drive and determination, just not the talent. At least, it’s what I gathered from the statements pulled in the check.”

  “Interesting.” Julian set down his pen and grabbed his keychain. “Sounds like maybe she pushed Nina, trying to live her own dreams through her daughter.”

  “Could be. Sad. I see those kinds of parents all the time.”

  “It’s a shame.” He couldn’t stop thinking about what Sophia had shared with them about Alena. “Still, it’s hard to believe someone would want their grandchild aborted just so their child could continue on as a ballerina. Harsh.”

  “It’s hard for us Americans to think that way. We’re geared toward family and children. Other countries don’t have the same ideals. I’m not saying either way is right or wrong, it’s just the way it is. In Russia, to be a prima ballerina is huge. It’s like a ticket to more opportunities. A chance to experience the world. I would imagine Alena wanted Nina to have all the best opportunities that came along.”

  Julian stopped spinning the keychain. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “Not exactly. My sister had a good friend in the Russian troupe. Those people are truly dedicated. She thought my sister was crazy for quitting dance to go to college. It’s a different environment.”

  “I guess.” Julian just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. He opened the case file and stared at the newspaper article on Sophia.

  “Did you get Nina’s background check back?” Brody asked.

  Julian shook his head, his attention still focused on Sophia’s picture. “Wasn’t in our box or on our desks when I came in.” He was still so taken with the blissful expression she wore.

  Brody lifted the phone and requested the full background file on Nina be sent to them as soon as possible.

  Even Sophia’s posture exuded pleasure. She stood on the hearth, her awards glistening on the mantle against the backdrop of an odd quilted tapestry. The—

  Julian flipped through the file to the crime scene photos. He pulled out the living room shot and laid it beside the newspaper article.

  “What?” Brody asked.

  “There’s this odd looking quilted tapestry in this photo, taken at the crime scene just last week. I don’t see it amid the shambles in the crime scene photos.”

  Brody came around the desks and looked over Julian’s shoulder. “I don’t see it either.”

  “It could be a lead.”

  “Or, it could be that it’s there and we just don’t see it. It might be mingled in with the shards from the other tapestries or curtains.”

  Julian shrugged.

  “Or it could be in one of the evidence boxes or somewhere else in the house.”

  “Maybe.” But Julian felt in his gut this was a lead. “We should have someone look through the evidence boxes and ask Sophia about it.”

  “Of course. I’ll get someone to look in evidence.” Brody lifted his phone and dialed.

  Julian’s phone rang. He snatched it up. “Homicide, Detective Frazier.”

  “This is Lee in forensics. Wanted to let you know your hunch paid off.”

  Finally! “Really?”

  “Yes, sir. We found droplets of foreign matter on Nina Montgomery’s shirt, consistent with sweat droplets. We’re starting the DNA testing now.”

  “Great. How long before you have something?”

  “It varies, sir, but I’ve put a rush on it so we should have it ready to load into CODIS within forty-eight hours.”

  “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.” Julian hung up the
phone and told his partner the good news.

  “Finally, a solid lead.”

  “Today just might be our lucky day.” Julian updated the case file notes.

  “Well, it is Sunday.”

  Julian stabbed his pen into his pencil holder on his desk. “You don’t buy into all the religious mumbo-jumbo, do you?”

  Brody arched a single eyebrow. “Ah, so you aren’t a believer?”

  Julian shook his head. “To each his own, but I stopped buying into the whole ‘great and powerful God of everything’ about the same time I stopped believing justice always prevailed.”

  “Yeah, most cops are jaded. We see too much of the ugly stuff.” Brody sat on the edge of Julian’s desk.

  Julian hadn’t missed the most cops distinction. “But not you? You’re a Christian?”

  Brody chuckled and moved to sit behind his own desk. “I am. It’s okay, though. It’s not a bad thing like the way you say it.”

  “I’m sorry. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Brody shrugged. “We all have to make our own choices. I just choose to believe in God.”

  At one time, Julian could have agreed with him. But ever since Eli had died . . . there was no sense. No logic. And if there was a God, if He allowed all this senseless violence to keep happening, well, He wasn’t such a great God.

  “I’m getting some coffee. You want a cup?” Brody asked, standing.

  “That nasty stuff?” Julian wrinkled his nose, made a face, then laughed. “Nah, man. Thanks, but I don’t think so. That stuff is deadly.”

  “It puts hair on your chest.” Brody laughed as he left.

  Julian stared after him. He’d learned more about Brody in the last couple of days than he’d known about him in the last six weeks since becoming partners. It was a little nice to fall back into a routine of having a trusted person to confide in, but Julian knew he couldn’t let himself get in too deep. Friendships, while great, could pull the rug out from under you when they were ripped away without warning.

  His cell rang. He checked the caller ID. “Hey, Charlie. How’s everything with you?”

  “Good. I’m on my way to the hospital to see Sophia.”

  Julian froze. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, I just told her I’d come this morning to be there when her doctor makes rounds, so I could ask some specific questions for her.”

  “Good.” He glanced at the pictures in the open case file. “Can you stay for a while? I have a couple of questions for Sophia. If you don’t mind.”

  “Hey, I’m on your payroll, Frazier.” Her chuckle made him smile.

  “Yeah, you are, so why are you calling me?”

  “Just wanted to touch base with you. See if you have any updates.”

  “Nothing concrete yet.” He couldn’t tell her about the sweat. While on retainer for the police department, she wasn’t actually on the force. At this point, he couldn’t even tell Sophia. Not until they had something.

  “Okay. Guess I’ll see you in a bit. Bye.”

  Julian put his cell back in its holder on his belt, thinking about Charlie. He’d met her through her brother, who had been a good friend of Eli’s. Scott was a great mechanic, who helped Eli restore old cars. Eli had introduced Julian to Scott when they’d started work on the Charger’s restoration. Julian had liked the deaf man immediately. He’d liked his sister even more the first time he met Charlie.

  Although no one at the force—not now anyway, since Eli was gone—knew Julian had actually gone out with Charlie a couple of times. No denying she was a beautiful woman, but there just hadn’t been any chemistry between them. They’d decided they were better off as friends than as a couple and had been good buddies for a couple of years now. Despite their having dated, Charlie was always looking to fix Julian up on some blind date or another. She said he was too hardened and needed a woman to soften him up.

  Brody joined him. “I’m going to go interview Nina’s neighbors again. See if anyone knows anything about a scooter or golf cart or whatever Sophia might have heard before the attack.”

  Julian nodded. “Good idea. Maybe it will give us a suspect.”

  Brody left without another word, leaving Julian alone with his disturbing relationship thoughts. He preferred to keep his feelings under wraps, thank you very much. Besides, he didn’t have time for dating. He was married to his work. To saving lives and keeping the streets safe for the good people in his town.

  Hey, it sounded good, right?

  * * *

  Sophia closed her mouth and stared as Dr. Rhoads stuck his penlight back in his jacket pocket.

  “Well?” she mouthed and Charlie spoke.

  “Looks like the swelling has continued to go down. The charge nurse left a note you were hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked over her chart again. “If you feel ready, we can remove the feeding tube. Your throat will be very sore, and I’d advise you not to try and talk for at least another day or so. You’ll be on a strictly liquid diet at least for twenty-four hours, but if you have no problems and I see no sign of infection, you should be able to start eating and talking, even if it’s a whisper, by Tuesday. We can further evaluate then. How’s that sound?”

  “Wonderful, Dr. Rhoads. Thank you.”

  “We’ll keep the humidifier running, though. Just as a precaution against crust formation and transient ciliary dysfunction.” He smiled at Sophia. “Now, I also see you had some questions about getting up and about?”

  Sophia nodded.

  “Are you having any pain in your pelvic region?”

  She shook her head.

  He set her chart on the table and gently probed her hips and abdomen. “Does this hurt?”

  Again she shook her head.

  “Here?”

  “No.”

  “Now?”

  “Nothing.”

  He straightened and reached for her chart. “Excellent. After the feeding tube’s removed, I’ll order the catheter removed. Then you can let the nurses help you up. While you should take it easy today, you can at least move around the room a little. You’ll have to be careful not to lose your balance, and you can’t walk around if someone isn’t in here with you, do you understand? With your pain medication, you’re a little groggy. We can’t take a chance on you falling.”

  “Yes. I won’t.”

  The doctor wrote on the chart. “The stitches used on your face and head are dissolvable, so they won’t require attention for removal. You may begin to notice a tightening sensation and itching in those areas over the next day or so before they start to dissolve. That’s completely normal.”

  She nodded. She’d wondered if she’d imagined the itching she’d felt during the night.

  “The bruising and swelling on your face are also resolving as they should. I see no signs of any infection.”

  Well, this was good news.

  “What about my hands?”

  “Your surgeon has been receiving the nurses’ notes every time they change your bandages and clean your wounds. He should be by to see you sometime tomorrow morning.”

  “What do you think?”

  Dr. Rhoads smiled and closed her chart, handing it to the nurse who shadowed him. “I think you’re a lucky young lady to be alive. Your surgeon will be by tomorrow to discuss your hands. Now, I’ll review your progress after the feeding tube is removed and you’ve gotten up. You might have wished you took another day to rest up.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Okay then.” He pointed at the nurse. “They’ll be back in a few minutes to take out the feeding tube.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Rhoads.” Sophia smiled at Charlie as the doctor left the room.

  “Excited to get the tube out?” Charlie asked as the hospital room door closed.

  “You have no idea.”

  Charlie smiled. “Actually, I do. I was in a car accident a couple of years ago and had a feeding tube.” She shuddered. “Was worse than the cast.”


  “I understand.” Sophia mouthed.

  The door whooshed open and the nurse who had been trailing Dr. Rhoads came in. “Okay, we’re going to take the feeding tube out now, then your catheter. Going tubeless.” She laughed at her own joke.

  Charlie stood. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

  “Thank you for coming.” Sophia smiled.

  “Oh. I talked with Julian earlier. He’s coming by to ask you some new questions, so I’ll stay and translate. I’ll just run down to the cafeteria and grab a snack.” Charlie patted her foot. “I’ll be back in to see the tubeless you soon.”

  So, Julian was coming by again? Sophia struggled to pay attention to what the nurse was telling her, but it was hard to do when all she could think about was the case.

  More questions? Did it mean they had a lead?

  “Okay, hon, let’s get you sitting as upright as possible,” the nurse said as she pressed buttons and the bed hummed in movement.

  Sophia’s heartbeat quickened. She couldn’t wait to get this tube out of her nose.

  “I’m going to remove the tape holding the tube in place. It’ll feel like pulling off a big Band-Aid.” The nurse pressed her cold fingers against Sophia’s face and pried the tape off.

  Sophia cringed.

  “Sorry. There’s always a little sting.”

  A little sting? Was she kidding? It was like pulling off a layer of skin on her already sore face.

  “Now, this next part is going to be a bit uncomfortable. You’ll feel pressure as I gently pull the tube out.” The nurse took hold of the tube just below where the tape had been. “I know the instinct is to get it out fast and furious, but we have to take a little extra care and go a little slower to make sure the tube doesn’t stretch and break.”

  Stretch and break?

  The nurse continued. “Now, once the end of the tube gets near the top of the esophagus, I’ll pause for a minute to give you a moment to rest. Okay?”

  Not really, but Sophia didn’t see any other options. She gave a nod and closed her eyes, pinching them tight.

  “Just try to breathe normally through your mouth.” The nurse pulled the tube. Uncomfortable? No. It was more like a razor blade snaking up her throat. Sophia concentrated on breathing with her mouth open.