by Jana DeLeon
“Can I stay here with her?”
Dr. Stabler glanced at Sergeant Boyd, then looked back at her. “We don’t usually allow overnight visitors in the emergency room, but in this case, I think we can make an exception.”
“Thank you!” Relief washed through Shaye. If they hadn’t allowed her to stay in Corrine’s room, she would have spent the entire night pacing the emergency room lobby. Making the exception was easier on everyone.
“I’m going to make my rounds,” Dr. Stabler said, “but I’ll check back in before I leave.”
Shaye nodded. As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, Shaye whirled around and locked her gaze on Sergeant Boyd. “What the hell is going on? The police don’t answer calls for slip-and-falls.”
“No ma’am. We got a call from the paramedics on the scene. They said your mother had bruises on her shoulders and they thought she might have been pushed.”
“Who found her?”
“A couple of painters who were supposed to start work in the building next week, stopping by to get an estimate for supplies. Someone ran past them and knocked one of them down when they walked inside. They heard moaning and found your mother on the second-floor landing. I have officers going through the building now, but so far, it’s clean except for your mom’s footprints and boot prints in the dust.”
“Did the painters get a good look at the guy?”
“Unfortunately no. The entry faces east, so it was too dim to make out anything of relevance. They put him at six feet or so and stocky, but that’s all they could give us. We got her name from her license, and she had an ‘in case of emergency’ card in her wallet with your name and number.”
“Wait a minute.” Shaye turned to stare at the officer. “They didn’t steal her wallet?”
“No. Her wallet contained her license, the emergency contact card, one credit card, and forty dollars in cash. Her purse contained the wallet, her cell phone, car keys, lip balm, and one of those eyeglass cleaning cloths. Do you know of anything that might be missing?”
Shaye blew out a breath, trying to clear her mind and concentrate on what the officer asked. “She carried very light on the job, but she always had a can of Mace.”
Sergeant Boyd nodded. “The detectives found one on the staircase, but it hadn’t been used.”
“He got the jump on her.”
“Most likely.”
Shaye ran one hand over the top of her head. “Why was my mother in an empty building?”
“Her office said she got a call late this afternoon. A baby was screaming in the background and the caller claimed that had been going on for hours. She went to do a site check.”
“Did she get the address wrong?”
“Not according to your mother. I spoke with her briefly when I first got to the hospital. She was still a bit unclear on some of the details, but she said the address was in her cell phone. I checked the notes and it was a match for where she was found. All calls on the agency hotline are recorded and they pulled the tape and verified she took it down correctly.”
Shaye sucked in a breath. “Then that means…”
“Someone lured her into the building to attack her.”
“Oh God.” Shaye stumbled back from the bed and sat in a chair over to the side.
“Have you traced the call?”
He nodded. “Made from a disposable cell phone, paid for with cash at one of the hole-in-the-wall retailers with no cameras.”
“So you’ve got nothing.”
“I’ve already contacted her supervisor and asked for a list of people who might be holding a grudge against your mother, but given her line of work, I’m anticipating more than a couple of names. Can you think of anyone? Someone she might have mentioned at home? Someone she was scared of?”
Shaye shook her head. “Nothing that stands out from the norm. There’s always someone angry. Someone convinced the state is out to get them even though they’re horrible parents. But she hasn’t mentioned anyone in particular. Not recently, anyway.”
“Has she seemed different lately? More watchful? Worried?”
“No,” she said, hesitating a bit before answering.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Damn. The sergeant didn’t miss much.
“She has been more worried lately, but it’s because I moved out into my own place this week.”
Sergeant Boyd’s expression changed from concerned to understanding. “My youngest moved out two weeks ago. My wife was inconsolable for days. She probably used up all his cell phone minutes in the first week.”
Shaye managed a smile. “So you’re saying this is normal? How long does it last?”
“Until one of you dies.” Sergeant Boyd frowned. “I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say given the situation.”
“Don’t worry about it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Just take care of yourself and your mother. My captain has instructed us to leave a guard until we have a better handle on things. I’ll be here for the next hour or so, then Deputy Crocker will take over until morning.”
“Thank you.” The relief Shaye felt knowing that the police would maintain a presence at the hospital was bittersweet. If Corrine had been anyone else, it would have been unlikely that they’d receive this kind of security detail, but the heir to Archer Manufacturing and daughter of a state senator tended to get things outside the norm. Even without asking.
As Sergeant Boyd left the room, Shaye rose from the chair and went to stand next to the bed. Corrine’s face was drained of color, and the blood and bruises stood out like neon against her pale skin. Shaye reached up and gently brushed Corrine’s bangs back from her forehead. The lump was pronounced and already dark purple. Shaye said a quick prayer that Dr. Stabler was right with his diagnosis. That knot looked bad. At minimum, her mother was going to have a killer headache when she woke up.
Corrine stirred and her eyes popped open. She glanced wildly around before her gaze locked on Shaye and the panic subsided. “Shaye. Thank God! For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was.” Corrine lifted one hand, then groaned and let it drop back onto the bed.
“Try not to move,” Shaye said. “Your ribs are messed up, so any movement is going to hurt.” Shaye pressed the button to call the nurse. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I think so. A policeman asked me earlier, but some of it was fuzzy.”
“That’s because you have a concussion. Do you remember more now?
“I went to a site call, but when I got there, it was all wrong. The apartment was empty. They were all empty. Then I saw the door open for an apartment at the end of the hall across from the stairwell, and I knew someone was there.”
Corrine’s eyes widened and she gripped Shaye’s hand. “I pulled out my Mace and ran for the stairs. I thought I’d beaten him, but he fooled me. He wasn’t in the apartment with the open door. He was in the one next to the stairs. He pushed me down the stairs. I hit my head and my vision blurred. Then he was standing over me. I believe he kicked me. I think that’s when everything went black.”
Corrine squeezed Shaye’s fingers tighter and tighter as she talked, and Shaye felt her anger build that someone had put her mother through this. “Can you describe him?”
“No.” Corrine’s face contorted in frustration. “Damn it. He was too blurry. Tall, stocky, and a hoodie, but everything was blurry and gray.”
“Please don’t let it stress you. It will only make your head hurt more. The police are investigating. They’ll get him.”
A nurse walked into the room and Shaye moved back from the bed so she could check Corrine’s vitals. “Things look good considering, Ms. Archer,” the nurse said. “Does your head hurt? Your ribs?”
“Honestly,” Corrine said, “I’m not sure there’s a place on me that doesn’t hurt. I’m too old to go falling down stairs.”
The nurse smiled. “You’re still young and vibrant. Trust me, none of us were made to tumbl
e around the way you did. Dr. Stabler gave me instructions for a painkiller when you awakened.” She pulled a bottle out of her pocket, gave Corrine a white pill, and poured her a glass of water. “This should make you feel better and help you sleep.”
Corrine swallowed the pill and closed her eyes. The nurse turned to Shaye. “She’ll go to sleep quickly. If she awakens again, let me know.”
Shaye nodded and moved closer to the bed after the nurse left. Corrine opened her eyes. “I’m tired, but I’m afraid to sleep. Every time I open my eyes, I’m afraid I’ll see him standing over me again.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to be sitting right here, and Sergeant Boyd is right outside your door. No one is going to stand over you here except me and medical personnel.”
Corrine forced a smile, her swollen lips making it look more like a grimace. “Have I told you what a great daughter you are?”
“Maybe a time or two.” Shaye leaned over and kissed Corrine on her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”
Corrine shifted a little and closed her eyes. In no time at all, her breathing was rhythmic. Shaye stood there watching her sleep and mulling over everything Corrine and Sergeant Boyd had told her. Something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. The phone call to Corrine’s office, the empty building, the painters…the purse!
That was it.
She hurried over to the table against the wall, opened Corrine’s purse, and dumped the contents on the table. Wallet, phone, lip balm, keys…where was it? She flipped the purse back over and peered inside, opening the side pocket. And that’s where she found it. Not an eyeglass cleaning cloth like Sergeant Boyd thought, because Corrine didn’t wear glasses.
It was a decorator’s swatch.
Shaye’s hand closed around the cloth, making a fist. It wasn’t Corrine’s job that had put her at risk. It was Shaye’s. Her disguise hadn’t fooled the stalker, and he was letting her know that not only did he know who she was, he knew how to get to her.
Fear, rage, and guilt coursed through her. When she’d taken this case, she’d never imagined that it might put those close to her at risk, not even as she’d started to understand more about the stalker’s fixation. How had he figured it out? Had he followed Shaye to her apartment? Since she’d first met with Emma, Shaye had been extra careful when driving, more observant about the cars surrounding her.
She shook her head. The only way he could have followed her home is if he’d made himself invisible. Which meant he’d discovered her identity some other way. How much more did he know?
And how was she supposed to explain to her mother that all of this was her fault?
Chapter Twelve
Emma dashed into the emergency room and stopped at the nurse’s station, trying to talk and catch her breath at the same time. “Corrine Archer? Is she here?”
The nurse checked her computer screen. “She’s in room seven, but—”
Emma didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence. As soon as she heard the room number, she dashed through the emergency room doors and down the hall for room seven. Her pulse quickened when she saw the policeman sitting at the door outside of the room. He rose when she approached.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the officer said, “but I’m going to have to see your credentials.”
“Of course.” She pulled her identification out of her pocket and presented it to the officer. “Can you tell me if Shaye is with her mother?”
The officer handed back her identification and narrowed his eyes at her. “You know the Archers?”
“Yes. I mean, I know Corrine from working with some of her wards, and I know Shaye from, well, from recently hiring her to look into a problem of mine. Is Corrine okay?”
“You should probably ask yourself.”
“Of course. Thank you.” She cracked the door open and peered inside, then sucked in a breath as she saw Corrine, so pale and bruised.
Shaye sat in a chair next to the bed and must have heard her intake of breath, because her eyes flew open. Her gaze locked on Emma and she jumped up from her chair. Emma rushed over. “What happened? Is she all right?”
“She answered a distress call for an infant,” Shaye said, “but when she got there, the building was empty, and someone attacked her. She fell down the stairs and he clocked her in the head.”
“Oh my God! What did the doctor say?”
“Bruised ribs, a concussion, and the general knocks from the tumble. She’ll be sore and have a headache, but should be all right. He’s going to do more tests tomorrow.”
“Thank God. That’s good. I mean, not good in the big scheme of things, but good considering.”
Shaye nodded. “Some painters showed up to measure. If they hadn’t interrupted whatever he had planned…”
Emma shuddered and crossed her arms across her chest. “Could she identify him? Has she been awake?”
“She’s been awake, but her vision was too blurry to see him, and the painters didn’t get a good look either given the bad lighting.”
“Damn. I know, given her job, she probably isn’t popular with a lot of people, but this seems sort of extreme.”
“Yeah, I thought so too, until I realized it wasn’t about her job.” Shaye held out her hand, exposing a square of cloth with jagged edges. “I found this in her purse.”
Emma frowned. “I don’t understand…”
“It’s a decorator’s swatch.”
“No!” Emma’s hand flew over her mouth and she took a step back, as if the cloth were going to attack her. “Oh, Shaye, I am so sorry. I never thought…you have to stop now. Stop working the case.”
“And leave you with no one? I don’t think so.”
“But you never signed up for this, and your mother definitely didn’t. If anything happened to either of you, I don’t know how I’d be able to live with myself.”
“Nothing is going to happen,” Shaye assured her. “My mother will go home to top-of-the-line security and given who she is, probably a police guard.”
“But you won’t.”
“I’ll probably stay with her for a while—at least until she’s able to move around well.”
Emma shook her head. “It’s not good enough. As long as you leave Corrine’s house to work on my case, you’re still at risk. You see firsthand what he’s capable of. Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Shaye placed her hand on Emma’s arm. “I mean that. I’m going to figure this out.”
“What about the cops?” Emma said. “You have the decorator’s swatch. Corrine was attacked and it was planned. Surely they can’t ignore all that.”
“No. They won’t ignore it.”
Emma studied Shaye. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m convinced they’ll investigate Corrine’s attack. I just don’t know if they’ll agree with our take on why. My mother makes a lot of enemies with her work. This thing with your stalker is a big unknown and a leap.”
“That he would go from me to your mother?”
Shaye nodded.
“Damn it. He’s got us right where he wants us. We know it’s him, but other people might not believe us. The people we need to believe us might not.”
“Don’t worry about the police. I’ll handle that end of things. Just worry about yourself. Did you have any problems changing hotels?”
Emma shook her head. “I drove around for a while. No one could have followed me without me noticing.”
“Good. Did you sleep?”
Shaye’s worry was genuine, and Emma considered lying because the last thing she wanted to do was give the young investigator something else to be concerned about. But she knew the dark circles under her eyes were a dead giveaway.
“Not really,” Emma said.
“I know it’s hard, but try to get as much rest as you can. I need you strong. Is everything else all right? No more problems with the car? No random items appearing? No old acquainta
nces contacting you out of the blue?”
Emma frowned. “Not really. I mean, when I got to the hospital today, I ran into a guy I dated through high school, but he was carrying flowers, so he must have been here to see a patient.”
“Why did you end the relationship?”
“I got my scholarship in Dallas and he was staying here. And I wasn’t invested in the relationship enough to attempt a long-distance thing.”
“And he was okay with that?”
Emma hesitated. “He was hurt, at first, but by the end of summer, he seemed fine. We hung out at parties a couple times and he helped me pack to move. We lost touch the first year of school—you know how busy it is—but I can’t imagine our meeting was anything but coincidence.”
“Probably. What’s his name?”
“Stephen Moore. His family is a fairly prominent one…his father is an attorney.”
Shaye nodded. “I know the family a little by reputation. They’ve been involved in some of Corrine’s charity events. Did he ask you out?”
“No. I mean, not really. He gave me his card and told me to give him a call sometime so that we could catch up.”
“I’m trying to place him, but can’t. What does he look like?”
“Funny you should ask. That was one of the things that surprised me a little. He didn’t look like he did in high school. He used to have longer light brown hair that swept back on the sides sorta wavy—the preppy boy look. Now his hair is maybe a half inch long and a lot darker. But then that happens with age, right?”
“Lots of times,” Shaye agreed. “I can’t remember him, but then, I’ve met so many people at Corrine’s events, there’s no way I could recall them all.”
Emma frowned. “You don’t think…”
“I’m sure it’s fine. He acted normal, right?”
“Yeah. He seemed surprised to see me. Told me he was sorry about what happened with David. I imagine he saw it on the news along with everyone else in New Orleans. He seemed like he did in high school. Older, but the same.”
