Alexia wondered if he was telling the truth. As they approached Columbia, Mo called approach control. Within a few minutes, Alexia spotted the state capitol building and the stadium where the University of South Carolina played its home football games. On Saturday afternoons in the fall it would be filled with garnet and black. Small hills began to dimple the landscape as they continued toward the northwestern corner of the state. Many people from Charleston and the coastal areas thought the rest of South Carolina was devoid of personality. Alexia generally agreed.
Greenville shared an airport with Spartanburg. Its official name was the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport, but it didn’t serve foreign nations, only other states like Georgia and North Carolina. Air traffic was light, and they were cleared by the tower to descend to the runway. Mo set the plane down as casually as a farmer dropping a disk harrow in spring soil. There was one bump, and then they quickly slowed down.
“Be sure to check the overhead bin for your personal belongings and don’t unbuckle your seat belt until we reach the terminal,” he said with a grin. “There won’t be anyone available inside the concourse to direct you to your next flight because we don’t have any other employees. I hope you had a pleasant trip.”
Alexia smiled. “It was fine. I’ve never flown in a small plane before.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. When are you going back?”
“I don’t know my schedule. I’m going to see someone at the hospital.”
“Let me know if I can fly you in the future. You need a few more lessons before we practice recovering from stalls and spins.”
They taxied near the terminal, and Alexia climbed out. By the time she reached the main building, Mo was already moving back toward the runway.
10
Still questioned me the story of my life.
OTHELLO, ACT 1, SCENE 3
Rena arrived at the ICU waiting area around 9:30 A.M. after a few hours of fitful sleep at a nearby hotel. She recognized several familiar faces from the night before, but her father-in-law’s wasn’t among them. Ezra Richardson had finally arrived at the hospital after Rena met with Dr. Kolb at 2 A.M. Usually in total control of himself and those around him, Ezra was obviously disoriented and struggling to come to terms with the terrible news about his younger son. Rena repeated her rote version of the accident and gave a summary of the doctor’s gloomy assessment of Baxter’s condition. However, when Rena suggested the merciful thing to do might be to terminate life support, the older man’s eyes blazed, and she beat a hasty retreat while he stayed at the hospital. She hoped that after her father-in-law heard Baxter’s prognosis directly from the doctors he would see the situation in a different light.
Rena approached a perky young woman who was monitoring ICU visitation.
“I’m Rena Richardson. How is my husband, Baxter, doing this morning?”
The young woman picked up a clipboard, read down a list, and flipped it over. A puzzled look came over her face. Rena’s heart skipped a beat as the truth hit her. Baxter had died during the night, and they’d moved him from ICU to the morgue. The young woman started over at the top of the list. Rena was both ecstatic and upset. She was glad that Baxter had breathed his last, but mad at her father-in-law for not notifying her. It was the height of rudeness for Ezra not to leave her a message on her cell phone that Baxter had died. It was already midmorning, and she needed to get busy with the funeral arrangements. She would let him know how she felt as soon as she saw him.
“Here it is.” The young woman interrupted the flight of Rena’s thoughts. “I missed him the first time.”
“Oh, he’s alive?” Rena asked.
“Yes. Do you want to see him? I can let you go right back.”
“Is anyone with him?”
“I just came on duty, but if he had a visitor with him, it would be marked on this sheet.”
“Okay.”
Rena didn’t want to spend pointless time viewing Baxter as the machines put him through his morning paces, but expectations demanded at least a cameo appearance. When she entered room 3824, it was exactly as she’d left it the previous night. Baxter hadn’t moved a millimeter. Even the IV bag seemed to be at the same level. It was a world of suspended animation. Rena didn’t linger at Baxter’s bedside, but stepped into the small bathroom to inspect her appearance.
There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. The knot on the side of her head was hidden by her hair, but it was tender to the slightest touch and had made it hard to sleep on her left side. The scratches on her face were slightly inflamed. She hadn’t covered them with makeup. They were her red badges of courage, the proof that she had scrambled heedless of her own safety into the rocky ravine to try to save her husband.
After a final glance at Baxter, Rena returned to the waiting room, where a familiar silhouette was sitting in a chair, reading a newspaper. She stopped and stared in disbelief. It wasn’t Ezra Richardson. It was the hideous detective who had told her Baxter was alive. Giles Porter turned, and before Rena could avoid his gaze, their eyes met. The detective stood and casually walked over to her.
“I was able to contact your father-in-law,” he began. “Has he arrived?”
Rena did her best to be civil. “Yes, thanks for calling him. He came in late last night. He’d been out of town on a business trip and had to fly in from Baltimore.”
The detective nodded. When he did so, it gave Rena a clearer view of the scar on the top of his head. It grew redder as it progressed across his skull and then split into smaller, pale tendrils.
Rena felt suddenly dizzy and had to sit down. She closed her eyes for a second.
“Are you okay?” the detective said.
Rena didn’t look up. “Uh, very tired.”
The detective sat down beside her. When he did, Rena could hear the clink of metal against the wooden arm of the chair. She didn’t know if it was handcuffs or a gun.
“How is your husband this morning?” Porter asked.
“No change,” Rena managed. “He’s in a coma and on life support. He may be totally paralyzed.”
The detective shook his head in sympathy. “Do the doctors think he’s going to recover?”
“It’s fifty-fifty. I haven’t talked to them this morning. I was supposed to be here for a meeting.” Rena looked at her watch. “They may be waiting for me in one of the consultation rooms. I’d better be going.”
When Rena stood, the detective did, too, and blocked her path.
“I don’t want to hold you up too long,” he said, “but I have a few more questions for you.”
Rena felt her face flush. “I told you everything I know yesterday.”
The detective didn’t move out of the way. “It’s been my experience that the day after a tragedy people remember more information because the immediate shock has subsided.”
Rena shook her head. “I’m still in shock and having you harass me doesn’t help.”
Porter gave her a patient look. “Mrs. Richardson, I’m not trying to harass you, but I have to do my job when there has been a death or serious injury in Mitchell County. If you can answer a few questions, I’ll be on my way.”
Rena was tired of the detective’s badgering and considered brushing past him, but in the split second she had to decide what to do next, she remembered that Giles Porter was a man. Manipulating men was not new to her. She turned from sour to sweet.
“Okay,” she replied with a tired smile. “I’ll talk to you for a few minutes. I’m sorry I’ve been rude.”
Porter put his hands in his pockets. “No need to apologize. You have every reason to be upset.”
The detective looked past Rena as if searching for the right question. When he spoke, it was on the same topic he’d asked her about before.
“Tell me what happened at the waterfall.”
Rena rewound the memory tapes she’d developed during the hike away from the falls. The tapes were still intact, and her words tracked ver
batim what she’d told Porter the previous day. Porter listened impassively. When Rena finished what she thought was a satisfactory answer, he asked another question. Rena’s resolve to be sweet began to melt under the heat of the detective’s probing. Every answer led to another question. Rena began to fidget.
Alexia got off the elevator. A sign on the wall directed her to the ICU waiting area. She pushed open the door and saw an expensively dressed young woman with blonde hair talking in an animated way to a medium height, pudgy man wearing a brown, wrinkled suit and green tie. Alexia walked quickly over to her.
“Excuse me,” Alexia said, “are you Rena Richardson?”
Startled, the woman shifted her eyes from the man to Alexia.
“Yes.”
Alexia extended her hand. “I’m Alexia Lindale, a lawyer with Leggitt & Freeman in Santee. I’m here to help you.”
“You’re my lawyer?” Rena asked.
Alexia repeated her instructions. “Our firm represents you and your husband’s family. We learned about the accident, and I came up to help.”
Alexia turned toward the bald man and saw the scar on his face. The detective spoke first.
“Ms. Lindale, I’m Detective Giles Porter with the Mitchell County Sheriff ’s Department. I made the initial contact with Mrs. Richardson and helped transport her to our local hospital for medical care while a helicopter flew her husband here to Greenville.”
Alexia shook the detective’s outstretched hand.
Rena turned toward Porter and spoke with an edge in her voice. “That’s enough questions for now. My husband is on life support, and I have some difficult decisions to make without the distractions of being interrogated. I told you everything I know yesterday.”
“I’m not interrogating you, Mrs. Richardson,” Porter said in a slow voice. “But I have a few more questions to ask before I file my incident report.”
Rena shook her head. “You’ve already asked a lot more than a few questions. I need a break. I can’t think straight.”
Hearing the tension in Rena’s voice, Alexia stepped in. “Could it wait, detective? I haven’t had a chance to talk with my client.”
The detective touched the place over his left eye where his scar began. “I’d like to finish my investigation so I don’t have to make another trip. I only have a few more questions.”
“That’s what he always says,” Rena interjected.
“What kind of questions?” Alexia asked sharply.
“About Mrs. Richardson’s conduct after her husband fell.”
“I can’t remember anything else,” Rena said. “I told you everything yesterday and again today. Leave me alone! I don’t want you in my face every time I turn around!”
“I’m not trying to be difficult, Mrs. Richardson, but I have a job to do.”
Alexia spoke. “Is she under criminal suspicion?”
Porter looked directly at Rena when he answered. “Maybe.”
Rena’s face went white. “No!” she shouted.
Alexia stepped back. The hospital worker sitting at the desk glanced up. Porter didn’t budge.
“You can’t do this to me!” Rena cried out. She grabbed Alexia’s arm. “Please, help me!”
Since totally focusing her practice on divorce cases, Alexia hadn’t handled any criminal cases, but she knew Rena Richardson was in no condition to answer questions about anything. She touched Rena’s shoulder.
“Please, go sit down. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Rena fled across the room to a chair where she buried her head in her hands.
Alexia faced the detective. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.
“Just doing my job. Mrs. Richardson made statements about the incident that are inconsistent with the facts.”
“What kind of statements?”
“I’d rather not go into that right now,” Porter responded dryly. “I don’t see any benefit to talking to you if your client isn’t going to talk to me.”
Alexia felt a flush of anger at the man’s attitude. Porter gazed back impassively.
Alexia spoke in a soft but intense voice. “I’m going to advise my client not to answer any more questions at this time. She’s obviously distraught. If you give me your card, I’ll call you later so we can discuss the matter more fully.”
Porter took out a card and handed it to her. “Suit yourself. But I want to talk to her, not you.”
Alexia handed the card back to the detective. “Then here’s your card. I won’t be calling you. There’s no sense in wasting our time in a pointless discussion.”
Porter shook his head. “No, keep it. May I have one of yours?”
Alexia passed one to him. He glanced at it and put it in his shirt pocket.
“You know, Mrs. Richardson has been hiking in those woods all her life,” Porter said. “She didn’t tell me, but I found out that her maiden name was Callahan. After her mother died, she lived with her stepfather in a bend in the road called Nichol’s Gap.”
Alexia didn’t respond. There was something inherently accusatory in the way the detective spoke. He made it sound as if growing up in Nichol’s Gap with the name Callahan was a criminal act. Alexia could understand why Rena Richardson didn’t want to talk to him.
“I hope your client’s husband makes it,” he continued. “He took quite a fall. He’s lucky to be alive. If he comes around, I’d like to talk to him.”
“That will be up to him.”
Porter straightened his tie, but it remained crooked. “I hope you’ll suggest that the family keep a close watch on Baxter. He’s been through a lot. He may be in a coma now, but the human body has a remarkable way of coming back. I’d hate for anything to stand in the way of a full recovery.”
“I’m sure the family will see that he receives the best medical care available.”
Porter nodded. “Of course. I’m sure they will.”
As soon as the detective left, Alexia went over to Rena. She was still crying.
“I’m sorry about that,” Alexia said.
Rena spoke through sobs. “That horrible man has been bothering me ever since they found me on the road in the forest. I know I shouldn’t have yelled, but the past twenty-four hours have been a nightmare, and I couldn’t take it anymore. ” She dried her eyes. “What did you tell him?”
“To leave you alone. You can tell someone like him the truth, and he would make you think it was a lie. I can see why he upset you.”
Rena looked up and dried her eyes with a tissue. “That’s exactly how I felt. I told him exactly what happened, but he wanted to twist it around and make me think I was lying.” Rena’s chest heaved one more time, and her voice trembled. “Is he going to arrest me?”
Alexia wanted to reassure the young woman without making any guarantees. “I don’t know, but I think he’s just fishing for information. Was anyone else with you and Baxter on the hike?”
“No.”
“Did you see other people?”
“No. The trail was deserted.”
Alexia thought for a moment. “He’s suspicious because that’s his job, but you probably don’t have anything to fear. If he comes back, don’t talk to him. He’ll just try to twist your words.”
Rena rubbed her eyes. “Okay. I’m so glad you came when you did. I need somebody I can trust.”
“That’s one reason that I’m here.”
Alexia waited for Rena to regain her composure.
“Has your family been to the hospital?” Alexia asked.
“What about my family?” Rena responded sharply.
“The detective said you grew up in this area. He said your maiden name was Callahan.”
Rena’s eyes grew wide in fear. “Did he contact my stepfather?”
“He didn’t say. He mentioned a place called Nathez Gap.”
“Nichol’s Gap. It’s where I lived until I was fifteen.” Rena put her head back down in her hands. “My mother died when I was eleven, and my stepfather is a horrib
le man. I haven’t seen him in years. I didn’t even let him know I was getting married, and he doesn’t know where I live.”
Alexia could imagine a few things that would make Rena want to sever all contact with her stepfather. She looked at the young woman with increased sympathy.
Rena’s tears threatened to return. “Do you think the detective will tell my stepfather where I am?”
“I’ll give him a call and tell him not to reveal any information about you. If need be, I’ll seek a court order for your protection.”
Rena sniffled. “Thanks.” She wiped her eyes again and then looked up with a new fear in her eyes. “Don’t tell Baxter’s father either. Baxter made up a story about my past so that his father would accept me. It would be a disaster if he knew the truth.”
Alexia hesitated. One of the land mines she’d feared was at her feet. She chose her words with care.
“Everything between us is confidential and protected by the attorney-client privilege. That means I won’t repeat it to anyone. Your father-in-law is also one of our clients, but the information about your family is not related to our representation, so I won’t repeat it to him or anyone in my firm.”
Rena sighed. “Okay. That makes me feel better.”
Alexia wanted to ask more questions but stopped. Rena Richardson’s present stress was bad enough without dredging up additional memories from the past. She took out the folder with the documents she’d brought from Santee but left it unopened in her lap. Rena needed space, and Alexia gave it to her. The young woman sat with her eyes closed for several minutes while Alexia kept guard. Rena opened her eyes.
“How long are you going to stay?” Rena asked.
“I don’t have a set schedule. Do you know when Mr. Richardson is coming to the hospital?”
“No, we didn’t talk about it last night. He was so upset when I mentioned unplugging Baxter’s life support that I left the hospital. I don’t want to lose my husband, but when I see him lying in bed kept alive by machines, it seems cruel not to let him go.”
“What did the doctors tell you about his condition?”
Life Support Page 9
