“Maurice…”
“Just, listen. You climbed on that roof in your snow suit and stayed up there while it snowed on you for two straight days just to get pictures of the guy lifting heavy equipment and crawling under the car.”
I remembered that I had to keep putting the camera in my snow suit because it kept freezing up in the low temperature. I almost lost my pinkie toes to frost bite. I looked at Maurice and shrugged helplessly. “He was lying. He could pay for his kids, he just didn’t want to.”
“Karen wasn’t even a paying client. She was a woman with no money, up against the wall, and she needed your help. You did the right thing by her. Despite my protest that it was a waste of time, and the fact that you had no real experience, you nearly froze to death to help the little guy.”
“Why are we talking about this, Maurice?”
“Because you believe that there is injustice here, and I know you have to do something about it. It’s who you are.”
I hugged myself in the cold garage. I didn’t feel like a champion for the little guy. I felt like I was the little guy. Out-maneuvered and out of my element.
“The Evans family is too powerful. Karen’s husband was one guy.”
“True,” Maurice said with a smirk. “But you’re not a rookie anymore.”
****
I left Maurice’s house with a belly full of pie and at least some of the fire I once had. I climbed into the cab and checked my phone. I’d missed a voicemail from Salem and one from Jimmy.
“Hey Reyna, Its Salem. I followed Shane to Rainier Beach. He met with some sleazy looking guy at another bar. What is it with criminals and dives? Anyway, I got some pictures of them walking back out. Don’t worry, I stayed in the SUV. I’m headed back to the hotel to upload the pictures. I’ll leave the laptop in your room. Call me when you get the message.”
I saved the voicemail and went to the one from Jimmy.
“Hey chér, I’m done with the dinner. So sorry you weren’t here. You would have loved the duck. I’ll head on over to the hotel in a little while. Hope you and Salem didn’t get into too much trouble while I was busy. Call me.”
I smiled and listened to the message again. I was about to call Jimmy’s cell when the cab pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. An ambulance blocked the entrance, lights flashing blue and red across the faces of the people gathered around. A cold hand squeezed at my stomach as we pulled to a stop. Barely breathing, I shoved money at the cabbie and scrambled out of the cab.
Paramedics wheeled a litter out of the lobby toward the ambulance. I raced towards it pushing aside the onlookers. I saw Jimmy, staring ashen-faced at the person on the gurney. A scream froze in my throat when I saw Salem’s face.
“Salem, what happened?” I yelled at the paramedics. “Salem!”
Jimmy turned and reached for me, his face a mix of relief and horror.
“Rain, there you are! Are you OK?”
“Jimmy, is he…”
I couldn’t finish. There was blood, lots of it, on his chest and his neck. I reached for the doors of the ambulance, tried to get in, but Jimmy pulled me back.
“Is he dead? Is he dead?” I screamed, as the paramedic slammed the door and the siren blasted.
“He’s alive. He’s been shot, but he’s alive, Rain.” Jimmy pulled me toward the parking lot.
“How could this happen?” I asked, as I cried.
Jimmy yanked open the passenger door, shoved me inside, and ran around to the driver’s side. “I don’t know, but we need to meet them at the hospital.”
He pulled out of the parking lot so quickly, I had to struggle to get the seatbelt on. We drove in silence. My heart was racing so fast I was hyperventilating. I rocked back and forth, willing my mind to slow down and think. We had to stop at a red light.
“Where were you tonight?” Jimmy reached over and turned my face toward his. He looked terrified.
“What?”
“I tried Salem’s room and you guys weren’t there!”
“I don’t understand…” I looked at Jimmy like he’d lost his mind.
“Rain, I checked Salem’s room and then went to yours. The door was ajar so I went in.” Jimmy let go of my chin and gripped the steering wheel so tight it creaked under his hands.
I stared at Jimmy and registered that the cuffs of his sleeves were red, they were covered in blood.
“Did you find him?” I asked, barely able to speak. “Did you find Salem?’
“I found him in your room, Rain.” Jimmy looked at me and nodded. He was shaking.
“My room?”
“Your room.”
A fresh wave of anger crashed over me, and I shook my head, not wanting to believe what Jimmy was saying. Salem had been uploading the pictures from his surveillance on Shane. He must have walked over to leave me the laptop when he was shot.
“They got the wrong person,” I whispered.
“Whoever shot Salem must have been gunning for you, instead.”
Anger and guilt and fear bubbled around in my chest and I wanted to scream. I’d pulled Salem to Seattle to protect him and now he was hurt, anyway.
“I’m sorry, Salem,” I cried. “So, so sorry.”
Jimmy reached for my hand, and I could feel the heat of his anger at whoever did this . Summer’s death had rocked Jimmy to his core, and now I’d brought more violence to his doorstep. I stared out the window at the ambulance pulling further and further away from us and fought back the anger bubbling in my veins.
This was going to end. All the threats, the attacks, and the lies were coming to an end. One way or another, I was going to stop all of this.
Purple Knot
33
I sat in the orange plastic chair, let my head fall back against the cold wall, and tried to breathe, despite the copious tears streaming. Salem was in surgery.
Jimmy sat beside me and sipped silently out of a foam cup the size of a thimble. Hospital coffee, as horrid as it tasted, was metered out in miniscule amounts on the surgery floor as if they had cause to be stingy.
Jimmy’s shoulders looked bunched up in his white t-shirt. Unable to wash Salem’s blood from his shirt sleeves, he’d simply pulled the shirt off and thrown it away. He’d given a statement to the police about how he found Salem, called for an ambulance, and tried to stop him from bleeding to death.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat and sighed heavily.
“He’ll pull through, Rain.” Jimmy reached over, wove his fingers through mine, and kissed my knuckles. He tried on a tired smile.
“Yeah.” I nodded and went back to staring at the ceiling.
“Look at me, Rain.”
I shook my head, knowing what was coming, and believing it wasn’t true.
“This is not your fault, ma chér,” he whispered.
“Jimmy, I asked him to come to Seattle. I left him to trail a killer on his own. On his own, Jimmy. What was I thinking?” My voice cracked and I couldn’t finish.
“You had him tail someone from a mile back and take pictures with a telephoto lens. He wasn’t in danger.”
“I should have anticipated…” I stood up.
“Anticipated what, Rain? He was supposed to stay in his car.”
“But when he called me at Maurice’s house he sounded hyped-up. Salem was caught up in the chase. He said Shane met with a man after his meeting with Parker. Jimmy, the way Salem described this guy, I should have called him off.”
“You were at Maurice’s?”
I’d forgotten that Jimmy didn’t know that.
“Yeah, I called him and he invited me over.”
“Why, Rain?” Jimmy stood up and leaned over me, his face tense.
“What does it matter, now?” I rubbed my face with both hands.
“What does it matter?” Jimmy pulled my hands away and the expression on his face sent my heart thumping. He looked mad.
“No…I didn’t mean…”
“Rain, you told me that you and Sal
em were going to trail Shane while I was at the benefit dinner. What do you think went through my head when I got to your room and found Salem on the floor bleeding out? What do you think went through my mind, Rain? I didn’t know where you were. I thought I’d lost you again!” He stepped back, angry.
“I called Maurice earlier in the day and asked him to get me the murder book on Summer’s investigation. I had to go.” My voice came out in a whisper. I reached for Jimmy but he pulled away. I let my hand drop down to my side and sighed.
Jimmy stopped pacing and stared at me silently. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was blank, like he was trying to remember where he’d put his car keys. When he spoke his voice was too even, too calm. “You had to have set that up way before I left you.”
“Jimmy, I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Maurice made it clear that you were not to see the murder book. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I didn’t.”
“Well, that’s just great, Rain. Is this how you’re going to keep handling things? Because if you are, then we’ve got a serious problem.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Why won’t you let me help you, Rain? Don’t you think I want to catch whoever did this to Summer?” Jimmy threw his arms up. He looked exhausted and exasperated.
“Of course I do. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“Stop doing that! Stop trying to keep me from worrying—you’re making things worse. I can handle worry. Not knowing what’s going on is what is killing me.” Jimmy took a quick step and grabbed my shoulders with both hands. I thought he was going to shake me silly, but he didn’t.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Jimmy.” I looked into his eyes, dark with fatigue, and nodded.
He moved to say something more, but the surgeon pushed through the swinging doors at the end of the hall. He tore off his head covering. I couldn’t decipher his expression and wondered if surgeons practice showing no emotion if front of a mirror. He nodded to Jimmy and then spoke to me. “Mr. Pratt is out of surgery now, and we’ve moved him to a section of the I.C.U.”
His mention of that hideous place made my stomach flutter, and I reached for Jimmy’s hand.
“Is he…” I tried.
“He came in with two gunshot wounds, both on his left side. One went into his left flank, and we were able to patch that one up pretty cleanly. The other bullet was harder.” He drew a line from his left ribs to the middle of his chest as he spoke. “The bullet entered through his side, broke a rib, and cracked apart on impact. It’s this shrapnel that gave us a problem. Its razor sharp and shredded its way across his chest cavity. He’s had some damage to his heart, but it looks good.”
“It looks good?” I stammered. The vice around my chest untwisted a bit.
“He’s not out of the woods, but he seems to have tolerated the surgery well. We’re going to keep a close watch on him for the next few hours.”
“Can we see him?” Jimmy asked.
The doctor shook his head. “Right now, he’s still out. We’re keeping him in the Ready Room for the next two hours.”
“What’s the Ready Room?”
“It’s a transition room between surgery and recovery. If we need to go back in, that’s the best place for Mr. Pratt to be.”
“So, when can we see him?” I blinked back tears.
“It’ll be a few hours, yet. We’re going to keep him sedated for a while.” The surgeon left Jimmy and me standing in the hallway.
“Do you think we can go back to the hotel?” I looked at Jimmy.
“Half that floor is a crime scene. We’re better off going to Hill House.”
I bit my lip, thinking. If Mona was at Hill House I’d rather sleep in the plastic chairs. I eyed them, and then Jimmy wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me toward the elevators. “It won’t be that bad, Rain.”
Thirty minutes later we drove up through the black iron gates and pulled in front of the house. The floor to ceiling windows glowed warm yellow light out into the night, and I flashed on the last time I had been here with Summer.
It was Christmas time a few weeks before I left Jimmy. She’d arranged a dinner with some of our friends. My mended bones ached from the cold wind, and I hugged myself and rubbed my arm, remembering.
Jimmy’s family home was as beautiful as ever. It didn’t have the thousands of twinkling lights or the oversized glass snowflakes dangling from the huge trees from that Christmas, but it was gorgeous none-the-less.
I didn’t want to be here again. I followed Jimmy up to the double doors and through the foyer. Music wafted down the spiral staircase to my right, and I tried to make out the tune. It sounded old, maybe big band or jazz.
“So, what do we do now?”
“We see what’s in the refrigerator,” Jimmy said quietly. He smiled and bobbed his eyebrows up and down quickly. He was after pie.
I sat at the marble counter and watched him root around in the stainless steel fridge. He pulled out a plate of grapes and cheese wrapped in plastic.
“No pie?” I teased.
“I guess they didn’t expect me.”
“I wish I had the laptop that Salem left in my hotel room. There might be something on there.”
“What, like an email from Parker warning he’s going to attack him?” Jimmy teased. “Besides, he was at the benefit dinner, Rain.”
“What?”
“I mailed Summer an invitation months ago. Parker showed up during my speech. I saw him sit down.”
“So your benefit is Parker’s alibi?” I frowned.
Jimmy shrugged unhappily.
“What in the world is going on here?” I ranted. “Either Parker and this lab tech are secretly diabolical geniuses, or we’re missing something.” I rubbed my eyes and sighed, frustrated. “Parker isn’t acting on his own. We know that at least one other person, this Shane guy from his department, is in on this deal.”
“The two of them conspired to steal this pseudo-ephedrine, but do you think this tech guy can make meth on his own?”
“Depends on his education and location, I suppose. Let’s say he has the chemical knowledge to make meth. I’m sure he could supplement his knowledge from the Internet. He would need a relatively isolated place to cook this stuff up. I remember reading somewhere that cooking meth is really smelly. The neighbors would know something was up.”
“So Shane would need a house on some property, or a cabin to cook this stuff up.”
I nodded and checked my notes. “When Salem and I figured out that Shane Morrison was involved I opened a skip trace file on him,” I said and leafed through the papers. “He lives in an apartment in Columbia. It’s not nice, at all. I didn’t find any other properties under his name, or his mother’s name.”
“So, it would have to be a place that Parker owns?” Jimmy frowned.
“I don’t think they’re making the drugs themselves. I think they’re supplying someone with ingredients.”
“Where are you getting this?”
“Salem called me when I was at Maurice’s and told me that Shane was meeting with someone else that night. He followed him.”
“And you think this guy, the mystery guy Shane met; you think he’s the one cooking the drugs?”
I was reaching. Parker kept surprising me. He had solid alibis for both times one of my friends was attacked. The more I tried to nail him to the wall with this, the more I seemed to exonerate him.
My cell phone made the dying sound and I fished it out of my purse. When I looked at the screen I saw that I had missed a message from Salem. My chest ached and I tilted the phone so Jimmy could see.
“What does it say?”
I pressed the teeny envelope on my keypad and the phone dialed my voicemail account. The computer voice said I had one message.
“Hey Reyna,” Salem’s cheerful voice intoned. “I uploaded all the pictures to your laptop. I guess you’re still out with that mentor detective guy so I’m going to leave it in your room and head
out for some dinner. Oh, I looked at the pictures I took and they’re awful. I didn’t use the right settings and the images are too dark. I’m sorry. I did upload a close-up of the guy Shane was meeting with to an aggregate website. It’s no face recognition database, but something might pop. OK, well, I’m going to go and eat and then maybe go visit that high rise bathroom. Call me back.”
I listened to the message a second time. Jimmy watched me but didn’t say anything until I was done. He rubbed my shoulder softly. “Are you OK?”
I nodded and tried not to cry. Hearing Salem’s voice after seeing his blood on Jimmy’s hands was surreal. “Salem said he uploaded the image of a guy Shane met with onto an aggregate site.”
“In English, please?” Jimmy raised an eyebrow.
“Do you have a computer I can use?” It would just be easier to show him.
“Yeah, in the study. You got something?”
I followed Jimmy to the study. He turned on the computer, and I waited through the start up by biting my thumbnail.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about or are you going to just keep nibbling until you get to your elbow?”
“You know how on those police shows they run a picture of some bad guy through a face recognition database and then a name pops up?”
“Yeah.” Jimmy pulled up a chair and leaned in.
“Well, we can’t do that.” I logged onto my email account for work and opened Salem’s email. He’d sent me the login name and password for his account.
“OK, so what did Salem mean by aggregate website? What is that?”
“Well, aggregate sites collect, usually via software, all sorts of feeds on the Internet. For instance, a news aggregator will collect headlines and breaking news from around the world and compile them on one page for easy viewing. There are all types of aggregators for whatever you’re looking for. Salem used a site called Current Clips. It is primarily a video and photograph aggregator. People post things like footage of vandalism or theft, usually on security video, post a few details, and anyone who knows anything can comment.”
“So we’re looking for comments from people who know this guy Shane met with?”
Purple Knot Page 21
