Not now. She couldn’t. “Thanks. But I’m fine.”
Will nodded and walked back to where Brad stood looking out the window.
Her mom squeezed her hand. “Our Will has turned out to be a fine young man.”
Andi’s gaze followed him. Broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist . . . he had indeed turned into a fine specimen . . . Wait, that wasn’t what her mother meant, and where had that thought come from?
Her own devious heart, that’s where. Falling in love with Will was a dead end. Too many complications—like he was her brother’s best friend and she knew from Brad that Will never dated anyone for more than a couple of months. She didn’t believe for one minute that the breakups were his fault. No woman in her right mind would reject Will. And if there was one thing she didn’t want to be, it was one of his rejects.
Refocus. “Do you really think Dad will be okay?”
“Now that he’s here, I do. I’m just thankful the doctors discovered he had a blockage before . . .” She shook her head. “The doctor said it’s in his main artery. Said he was lucky it happened when he was close to a hospital with people who knew what to do.”
Andi jumped when the beige telephone rang. Brad snatched it up and listened intently. “Thank you,” he said and hung up. “Someone came in worse off than Dad. There’ll be a slight delay before they start, but it shouldn’t be long before they take him.”
Andi tensed. She didn’t like this. Not one bit. Every few minutes she glanced up at the clock on the wall as she paced the room. Fifteen . . . twenty . . . sixty . . . Time ticked off slowly. Finally, her mother motioned for her to sit beside her.
“But what if something happens to Dad while they’re waiting?”
“Your pacing won’t stop it. Nothing is going to happen to him. God has this,” her mom said, “and he’s here with us.”
Was that supposed to give her comfort? God had Steph too, and look how that turned out. Andi didn’t ever remember a time when God was there for her, anyway. Her mother gasped, and Andi realized she’d said the thought out loud.
“Honey, you know better than that.”
Andi ducked her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see God here.”
“He’s here, honey, and this is one time you can’t run ahead of him,” her mom said gently.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about all the times you’ve gotten tired of waiting for something, so you make it happen. And things don’t turn out like you think they will.”
Even though the words were spoken gently, Andi sensed the restraint in her mother’s voice. She traced her finger over a crack in the vinyl chair. Chloe. That hadn’t turned out like she thought it would. She stiffened when her mom put her arm around her shoulders, and then forced her body to relax.
Her mom withdrew her arm. “You’re too independent and self-sufficient, honey. Always have been, even as a baby.”
Andi dug at the crack in the hard plastic, breaking her nail. She couldn’t help it that she didn’t need anyone.
A chuckle came from her mother. “Stephanie loved to be cuddled, but there was no cuddling you. No, I’d pick you up, and you’d get stiff, like just now. Then off you’d go, out of my lap, running to do something. It only got worse after Stephanie’s death.”
“I’m sorry the wrong daughter died.” Andi clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to grab the words that had been trying to escape for years.
“Oh, Andi.” Her mom’s voice broke. “No . . . I—”
The shrill ring from the telephone grabbed everyone’s attention. Andi jumped up, but once again, Brad snatched the receiver and then listened, nodding his head. “Thank you!”
He turned to them. “They were able to take him on to surgery and everything went great! They said we could see him now.”
“Yes!” Andi turned and grabbed her mom, who’d also stood. “He’s going to be okay!”
“I told you so. But honey, we need to talk—”
“Forget I said that, Mom. I was just stressed. I didn’t mean it. Come on, let’s go see Dad.” Ignoring her protest, Andi tugged her mom toward the door to the recovery room. She glanced over her shoulder. Will wasn’t coming.
“Go on,” he said. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Her dad had always spent a lot of time with Will. What happened tonight had to be killing him.
“Go,” he said, motioning with his hands.
With one last look, she followed her family through the doors. Dread filled her stomach the closer she came to her dad’s room. He’d been so gray . . . and lifeless. What if there’d been damage and he couldn’t do what he wanted to in his retirement? That’d be a slow death for him.
“Hurry,” Brad said from the room.
Pressing her lips together, she rounded the doorway as her mom kissed her dad on the forehead. He turned and saw her.
“Hey, pumpkin. Sorry I scared you.”
Her dad lay flat, but his color was awesome. Pink cheeks and his eyes sparkled. Tears sprang to her eyes, and grinning, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Wires were hooked everywhere, and a monitor beeped a steady rhythm.
“Give me a hug,” he said, holding out his arms.
She bent over, careful of the wires and sandbag on his upper leg, and hugged him. “You look great.”
“Doc says I’m lucky. Personally, I think it was God looking out for me.” He looked past her, and a frown crossed his face. “Where’s Will? I owe that young man an apology.”
“He’s in the waiting room,” Brad said.
“Well, get him in here.”
“I will.” Andi hurried back to the waiting room, but Will was gone.
Will exited the hospital and jogged to his car. What a day. First, he’d learned he was losing a mother he’d never actually had, and now the only man who’d ever treated Will like a son hated him. Mr. Hollister had taught him how to throw a curveball . . . taken him fishing . . . most of all, he’d talked to him like he was worth something.
That was important to a kid who didn’t have a father. Not that he’d ever been mistreated by his uncle. But the man had been too busy to notice Will. He didn’t know his dad, and the only story he’d ever heard about him was that his mom had called him from the hospital to pick them up after Will was born. She’d waited outside in the cold until darkness convinced her that he wasn’t coming. And so they went to live with his Aunt Mae and Uncle James, who lived next door to the Hollisters. Or, at least he went to live with them. He was four when he realized his mom wasn’t ever around.
He slid behind the steering wheel and slammed the door just as his phone rang. Andi. He didn’t want to talk to her right now and let it ring as he drove to his apartment. He’d brought a copy of Stephanie’s case home, and this would be a good time to go through it again, piece by piece.
Once he was home, he picked up this morning’s newspaper he hadn’t opened and carried it to his desk, where he checked his email. The state trooper had emailed that a TBI agent would be at the body shop tomorrow. Will shot him an email, saying he’d be there. Then he moved to his sofa and opened Stephanie’s files.
He separated Barnes’s reports from the others, laying them on his coffee table. Will had gone over everything twice already, and he picked up the toxicology report. He scanned it, stopping halfway down the sheet.
How had he overlooked this? Amitriptyline and more than a trace in Jimmy’s blood. It was no wonder that he didn’t remember what happened or that it didn’t kill him, like Lacey. Amitriptyline combined with alcohol was lethal most of the time. But what was amitriptyline doing in his system in the first place? The way Jimmy drank, no doctor would prescribe the antidepressant for him.
Suddenly it hit him. Both Lacey and Jimmy had the antidepressant in their system. The same MO.
But first he had to make sure Jimmy didn’t routinely use the drug. He took out his notepad and wrote a memo to ask Jimmy about it tomorrow. Then he took a pictu
re of the tox report and sent it to Maggie with a request to see if it was in Jimmy’s court records.
After another half hour of rereading the reports, he leaned against the sofa and rubbed the muscles in his neck. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he needed to get to bed, but he was wound like a compressed spring. His gaze landed on the morning paper, and he opened it up, scanning the headlines. That wouldn’t help him relax, so he turned to the sports page, then remembered the play-off game tonight that would determine who U of M played in the final round. Maybe he could catch the score.
Will turned on the news just in time to catch the sports report. Yes! He pumped his fist. The team he thought the Memphis team could beat won and would advance to the play-off. With a sigh, he turned the TV off and scanned the rest of the paper, stopping at a page he loved to read.
Today’s “Days Gone By” section featured a front page from the nineties. “Kidnapper Loses Last Bid for Parole” was the headline. He scanned down the page, noting that on that date, Hurricane Floyd was dying out after devastating the coast of North Carolina. Then his gaze caught the word diamond in another headline. “African Nations Work Together to Rid Supply Chains of Conflict Diamonds.”
A quick scan of the article told of how diamonds were being smuggled into the US through various channels. According to the article, an elaborate network of airline employees was smuggling rough diamonds from Sierra Leone through cities like Paris, Brussels, and London. The diamonds were bringing in millions to fund the civil war.
Was it possible? No, surely Stephanie wasn’t involved in anything like this. Will had read articles on conflict diamonds and the staggering amount of money that could be made by corrupt officials through diamond smuggling.
But how about the couriers? The ones actually bringing the diamonds to the States? How much did they make? Will dialed Brad’s number. “How’s your dad?” he asked when Brad answered.
“Much better when I left. Where’d you go?”
“Home. I’m going over Stephanie’s case files.” He hesitated. Brad sometimes reacted the same way as his dad. “Andi’s heart operation . . . was it life-threatening?”
“No. Well, Mom and Steph thought it was, but actually, Andi could have waited until she was older to have it. That’s what Dad wanted to do—wait until he had a job and the money or insurance to pay for it.”
“So why didn’t she wait?”
“Le Bonheur accepted her as a patient, and the doctor waived his fee. Dad would have paid every penny of it back, but Stephanie had a hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy with the airlines, and when it came in, they applied it to Andi’s operation. It didn’t cover the whole cost, but the balance was manageable for Dad. Why do you want to know?”
“No particular reason.” He couldn’t tell Brad what he suspected yet. “I found a blood panel in the file, and Jimmy had amitriptyline in his system.”
“You’re kidding. Just like Lacey.”
“Yeah. I figure the killer thought if it worked once to knock someone out, it’d work again. Once she was out, he could put her behind the steering wheel and start the motor. I bet he didn’t figure on the drug killing Lacey outright since it didn’t kill Jimmy.”
“I wonder if that came out at the trial?”
“I don’t know. Maggie has the transcript, and I faxed the report to her.” It was good to have Brad fully on board. “I’m going to Nashville tomorrow to ask Jimmy if he ever used GHB recreationally. Want to ride with me?”
“Yeah, depending on how Dad is.”
“Good. I had an email from the state trooper too. A TBI agent will be at the body shop examining Larry Ray Johnson’s pickup tomorrow and I’ll check on that as well.” Will started to hang up, but Brad cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“Look, you know how Dad can be sometimes. He’s really sorry about what he said. Do me a favor and talk to him.”
“Sure. If he gets to come home tomorrow, I’ll do that. See you around nine.” Brad might change his mind if he knew that Will thought Stephanie was involved in diamond smuggling. Heaviness settled in his stomach as different scenarios worked through his mind.
Another thought hit him. What if Stephanie had decided to keep a few of the diamonds? And what if Lacey Wilson knew where she hid them? Could that have been the evidence she had? He searched for the electrostatic latent image report and found the letters he was looking for.
Dear Andi,
Jimmy Shelton didn’t kill Stephanie, and I can tell you who did. Actually, you have diamonds in your possession—
Evidently she didn’t like how she’d started the letter and marked through the words and started over.
Dear Andi,
I have information that will exonerate Jimmy Shelton in the death of your sister. I contacted him, but he never responded.
He skipped down to a line in the letter on the next page.
and I let fear and greed overcome what I knew was right.
What if diamonds were why Lacey Wilson was killed? And maybe even Stephanie?
25
ANDI PUT A DOLLAR BILL in the drink machine and punched the button for a bottle of water. Her brother had left the hospital thirty minutes ago to pick up clothes so he could spend the night with their mom.
Her fingers shook as she took out two more Lortabs. What was this, four today? Or six? Couldn’t be six. And when did she exchange the ibuprofen bottle for the prescription bottle? Oh yeah. She’d only had four left and had grabbed the others when she went home to change.
“What are you taking?” Barbara Hollister asked.
She dropped the bottle, and it rolled to her mom’s feet. “Something for my back.” She bent to retrieve it, but her mom was faster.
“Lortab? How long have you been taking these?”
“Since I hurt my back.” Andi reached for the bottle, and her mother reluctantly released it.
“That’s strong stuff. What’s wrong with your back?”
Andi shrugged. “Something about a disc. Do you still have Jillian Bennett’s address?”
“Somewhere . . . in my Christmas list, I think. But changing the subject won’t work this time. You don’t need to keep taking those pills.”
“Mom.” Andi stretched the word out to two syllables. “I know what I’m doing. I won’t take these any longer than I absolutely have to, but right now, they’re getting me through the day. I can’t take time to have the operation the doctor wants to do.”
“There are other options, like physical therapy. Have you tried that?”
“Not yet. I just want to get through this thing with Jimmy, then I’ll see about it.”
Her mother opened her mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it. “I’ll look for Jillian’s address in the morning, after I get your father home.”
“Thanks. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”
“Brad has already insisted, and there’s no need for you both to stay. You’ll sleep better in your own bed, anyway.”
After getting her mother to promise to call if she needed anything, Andi drove home, blinking as lights from oncoming cars blinded her. After every turn, she kept watch in her rearview mirror for anyone turning with her. Had she set the alarm at her apartment before she left today? She couldn’t remember.
When she pulled up behind the house, the area was lit up like Christmas. Treece must have turned on all the outside lights. No one could find a shadow back here to lurk in. She climbed out of the car, and the warm night wrapped around her. She loved April—when it wasn’t storming. Andi tilted her head. Was that music? She searched for the source, but it seemed to float on the soft breeze that touched her cheek. Swaying to the beat, she danced up the steps. She felt good.
A minute later, she fumbled with the key. Why wouldn’t it fit the lock? There. Finally she had the door open, but now something was beeping.
She sang, mocking the sound. “Beep, beep, beep, beep—”
The alarm. What was the code? Her m
ind blanked. How long did she have to put the code in? She couldn’t remember, but it wasn’t long. Her nose itched, and she rubbed it. Oh yeah. Stephanie’s birthday.
“Thank you, Mr. Alarm,” she said when the beeping ceased. She flipped off the outside lights and plopped on the couch. Her eyes drooped. Maybe she’d just sleep here.
At eleven JD had almost decided Andi wasn’t coming home when she pulled into the drive and parked in her usual spot behind the house. He pressed his back against the wall away from the light flooding the yard, his dark clothing blending with the brick. He waited as she took her time getting out of her car.
Is she singing?
Andi climbed the steps to the back door and unlocked it. The steady beep of the alarm alerted him that she was getting better about setting it.
She closed the door, and a few minutes later the outside lights went out, then the apartment went dark. He forced himself to wait a good fifteen minutes before he eased to her car and knelt beside the wheel. Where to put the magnetic transponder so he could track her? The wheel? No. It might accidentally be seen. He placed it under the front fender.
Now, if she went looking for Jillian and found her, he could take care of his last problem. He might even get back the diamonds she stole. Scratch that. Jillian had probably sold them years ago. But he could have his pound of flesh.
He froze when Andi’s back door opened and she hurried down the steps. Thank goodness he was on the passenger side. She never saw him. As soon as she pulled out onto the street, he started to leave, then looked back.
Her door stood slightly open.
She hadn’t set the alarm.
He sneaked up the steps, his black clothing making him almost invisible, since Andi had killed the outside lights. Inside the apartment, he used his cell phone for a light and quickly and systematically searched the living room for anything the diamonds could be hidden in. And not just the diamonds.
If Andi had the diamonds, she probably had the missing journal pages. Unless one of the others had given her details, the only information on those pages could be the names of who was involved in the smuggling. That was enough to put him in jail, even though Andi probably wouldn’t know what she had.
Justice Delayed Page 23
