Never Come Back

by David Bell

Beth hugged herself against the cool air. We had left her house in a hurry, and she was wearing only a light sweater. It had a dark stain on the front. I thought it might be coffee, then realized it might be Neal’s blood. I looked down. I had some on my jeans and shirt as well. We’d make a pretty sight walking into a mental health facility after dark.

  “It’s stupid, really,” she said. “Stupid on my part. I wanted to talk about Mom. I didn’t have anyone else I could do that with because I didn’t know you yet. I had read in the paper that Ronnie had been taken into custody or whatever, so I wanted to see him.”

  “What if you’d run into one of us?” I asked. “Me or… or Paul.”

  “I went at an off hour, hoping no one would be there. But you know, I kind of wanted to run into one of you. God… Paul. He’s my uncle. He was my favorite uncle all those years ago. Such a sweet, sweet man.” She shook her head. “It’s strange. I never wanted to come back when I was young. But now I kind of just wanted to belong to a family again.”

  “And it was too much for Ronnie?”

  “He was pretty doped up,” Beth said. “I think he thought I was Mom. When he started to flip out, I just left. I couldn’t handle it. I hated to think I brought him any pain.”

  “He’s tough too,” I said. “And understanding.”

  The door was locked, so I rang the buzzer. A young nurse I had never seen before came to the door and pointed at her watch. She spoke to us through the thick glass. I had hoped to see Janie, but she wasn’t in sight—she must have been out having fun with her girlfriends.

  “Visiting hours are over,” the nurse said. “We open at seven tomorrow.”

  “We’re not here to visit anyone,” I said. “We just want to talk to you.”

  The nurse gave us both the once-over. She took in our tired features and frazzled looks. Who knows if she saw the blood? She stepped away and made a phone call. I knocked again, and when she looked, I made a waving gesture toward the door.

  “Come on,” I said.

  The nurse didn’t budge. Instead a trim and fit security guard, a young black man with a razor-thin goatee and a shiny gold badge, came over to the door. He approached us with his thumbs hooked in his belt. He meant business.

  “I don’t like cops very much,” Beth said as he walked up.

  “He’s a rent-a-cop.”

  “Those are the worst,” she said. “They have the most to prove.”

  The guard didn’t hesitate. He pushed the door open and used his body to block the opening.

  “Visiting hours are over, ladies.” His voice sounded surprisingly high, almost effeminate. I didn’t know whether that put me at ease or gave further support to Beth’s theory.

  “I know that,” I said. I tried to smile, to look harmless and pretty. The guy was about my age. Shouldn’t he fall for that stuff? “We just need to talk to the nurse and look at your logbook. You know, the one where guests sign in.”

  He shook his head. “You have to come back in the morning and talk to the supervisor. Her name is Miss Hicks.”

  “You know Janie Rader, right?” I asked. “She’s a friend of mine.”

  He shook his head again. “I can’t comment on our personnel. But you can speak to Miss Hicks in the morning.”

  “I don’t really have that much time,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “Everyone has an emergency.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I do.”

  “Miss Hicks. Seven a.m.”

  He started to shut the door, so I stuck my hand out, stopping it.

  “Now wait—”

  “Ma’am—”

  “Just listen—”

  “Elizabeth,” Beth said. “Maybe we should—”

  “If he’d just listen,” I said. “Just listen. My brother was here. And they say he tried to kill himself, but I don’t think it’s true. And I need to see—”

  “Ma’am,” the guard said. “Lots of folks got troubles.”

  “But my brother—our brother—Ronnie, he’s in the other hospital because they say he tried to kill himself, but I think someone tried to kill him.”

  The pressure on the door eased. Something softened in the guard’s face. The hard lines and edges of his mouth and jaw relaxed.

  “Ronnie?” he asked.

  “Yes, Ronald Hampton.”

  “Your brother is Ronnie Hampton?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “They told me Ronnie tried to kill himself with pills,” the guard said. There was a long pause. I kept my mouth shut and just waited. “Ronnie’s my buddy. We watched the baseball play-offs on TV together.”

  “Right,” I said. “He loves baseball.”

  The guard looked me over again. His eyes stopped on my pants, the bloodstain. Then he said, “There’s no way Ronnie would do himself in.” He stepped back. “Come on. What do you need help with?”

  Chapter Fifty-four

  The security guard told us his name was Edgar. He said he didn’t realize Ronnie had two sisters, that Ronnie had only ever mentioned one.

  Beth nodded toward me. “Ronnie always liked her best.”

  As we approached the nurse’s station, the nurse who had shooed us away—and had apparently summoned the guard—seemed nervous. She had large brown eyes like polished stones. I didn’t say anything to her right away. I looked up and down the counter, trying to find what I needed.

  “Can I help you with something?” the nurse said.

  “The book where everyone signs in?” I asked. “Where did it go?”

  “It’s back here,” the nurse said.

  “Can I see it?” I asked.

  “Who are you?” the nurse asked. “Edgar, do you know these people?”

  “They’re Ronnie Hampton’s people,” Edgar said.

  “Look,” I said. “The book isn’t a secret. It’s usually sitting right here. Every time I’ve been here, I’ve been able to see whoever signed in ahead of me. Can I just look at it? We’re trying to help someone.”

  “My father,” Beth said. “We need to know if he was here.”

  The nurse still didn’t move. “I just started last week…”

  I leaned over the counter. “It’s right there,” I said, pointing. “I could reach over and take it myself.”

  The nurse eyed the book but stayed firmly in place.

  “Would you prefer that?” I asked. “Would you prefer if I just took it? Maybe you stepped down the hall to get a drink of water or a snack, and I came in here and took it.”

  I didn’t wait for her response. I leaned over and grabbed the book. I flipped back a couple of pages and moved closer to Beth. “It must have been sometime this morning.”

  With Beth by my side, I scanned through the list of signed names and the times. I didn’t see Gordon’s name, which was no surprise.

  “He probably used a fake name,” Beth said.

  “Do you recognize his handwriting?” I asked.

  She took the book and studied the signatures. Her lip curled in frustration as she did. “It’s been so long,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Since I was a kid.” She pointed at one. “Maybe that. I don’t know.”

  It read, Stan Smith.

  “Sounds made up,” I said. “Do either of you know who Stan Smith is? Is there a patient named Smith?”

  The nurse looked confused. “I just started.”

  Edgar said, “Oh, yeah. Esther Smith. Down the hall. Her husband comes to see her all the time.”

  “Did you work this morning?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m on a double shift.”

  “Did Ronnie have any visitors in the evening?” I asked.

  “Hmm. I’m not sure. There was a lot going on.”

  “I’ll be specific. A fat little white guy with a thick neck. Sort of looks like a giant bullfrog.”

  Edgar snapped his fingers. “I know.”

  “What?” Beth asked.

  “I got called up to t
he second floor for about an hour this morning,” Edgar said. “There was a disturbance. Somebody stuffed a load of paper in the sink and the toilet and left the water running. Big flood. I had to help get it all cleaned up.”

  “Oh, yeah,” the nurse said. “I heard about that.”

  “That’s rotten,” I said.

  “Or really convenient,” Beth said. “If you’re going with this where I think you’re going.”

  I turned back to the nurse. “Okay, I need you to do us another favor.”

  “Another one?”

  “I need you to tell us what medicines my brother was taking.”

  “No, I can’t do that,” she said. “That’s private information. I can’t give that out. I could lose my job.”

  “We won’t tell,” I said.

  “I just started. I have student loans to pay off.” She looked up and down the hallway, then turned back to me. “I can tell you the police already came tonight and took all of your brother’s medical records.”

  “Okay. So give them to me too.”

  “They’re the police.”

  “Do you know I’m not a cop?” I asked.

  The nurse gave me a knowing look. “Edgar just said you’re related to Ronnie. You’re probably his sister.”

  “And I’m a cop,” I said. “I forgot my uniform.”

  “Wait a minute,” Edgar said. He held up his hand in an authoritarian manner. “What is it you’re trying to find out?”

  “I need to know if my brother was taking a certain drug.”

  “The one he OD’d on?” Edgar asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” Edgar said. He leaned over the counter toward the nurse. “Tanya, why don’t you just let them ask you if their brother was taking a certain medication. You can just answer yes or no. Then you’re not handing over all the records. And then they know what they want to know.”

  Tanya studied Edgar a long time. “I don’t know,” she said. “I could still get in trouble.”

  “Come on, girl,” Edgar said. “It will be fine.”

  Tanya looked back at me. “Okay. What are you looking for?”

  “I need to know if Ronnie was on a heart medication. Something called digitoxin or dioxin or something like that.”

  “Digoxin?” Tanya asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “I guess.”

  She turned and started typing on the computer.

  Beth looked at Edgar. “Nice job. You’re pretty smart.”

  “I try. I’m taking the exam next week to get into the police academy.”

  “Too bad,” Beth said. “I hate cops.”

  “Me too,” Edgar said. “If I get in, they’re going to make me shave my goatee.”

  Tanya leaned in close to the computer screen and clicked the mouse a few times.

  “Well?” I asked.

  She shook her head but didn’t say anything.

  “You’re not going to tell me?” I asked.

  Tanya shook her head again.

  “I think that’s your answer about the drug,” Beth said.

  “Okay,” I said. “Is there anything that would deal with the same problems digoxin deals with? Maybe it’s under a generic name.”

  “Digoxin is primarily used for irregular heartbeats and atrial fib,” Tanya said. “Did your brother have a heart problem like that?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Tanya clicked the mouse a few times again, and the screen went blank. “That’s all I can help you with, okay?”

  Edgar said, “Are you telling me someone tried to kill Ronnie with some pills? After someone already killed your mother?”

  “It looks that way,” I said. “And the good news is the police might have finally figured it out as well.”

  “Damn,” Edgar said. “Who would do such a thing?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

  Beth said, “Unfortunately, it looks like it was my father who did it.”

  Chapter Fifty-five

  I slept a long time in Dan’s bed. Beth and I went there after we left Dover Community, figuring that it was a safe place to spend the night. It was too late for her to drive back to Reston Point anyway, and once Dan got over his initial shock at learning that I suddenly had a half sister, he was willing to accommodate us. Beth slept on the couch, curled up with one of Dan’s old blankets pulled up to her chin. We made sure the door was double-locked.

  The only thing I could think about before falling asleep was Ronnie. I hadn’t been back to St. Vincent’s. I hadn’t checked in with Paul. Dan reassured me, telling me that when he’d left the hospital Ronnie was content and resting. He already looked healthier.

  “I need to see him tomorrow,” I said.

  And then I faded out.

  I don’t even think I got out of bed to go to the bathroom during the night. I was deep under, dreaming of Neal Nelson being chased by someone I couldn’t see, when the phone started ringing. It took me a long time to surface. Even though the dream scared me, I didn’t want to come out of it. I feared that the ringing phone was going to bring me something worse.

  Then Dan gently shook me awake. He held the phone in his hand.

  “You need to take this,” he said. “It’s the police. That detective, the one from your mom’s case.”

  I shook the tattered remnants of the dream away and wiped my eyes. I was in Dan’s bed. I was safe.

  I took the phone, hoping for Post but instead hearing Richland. I had called them the night before and left a message telling them what I had learned at Dover Community.

  “Ms. Hampton?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’ve been trying to locate you,” he said.

  “You just did.”

  “We went by your apartment and you weren’t there.”

  “That’s because a fat man with a knife wants to kill me.”

  “Can you tell us where you are?” he asked. “We need to give you an update on the investigation.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “We’d rather not get into it over the phone.”

  I sighed. Would the day ever come when I’d be done with the police? “I’m at a friend’s house.” I gave them the address. “Can you give me half an hour? And then after I talk to you, I need to go see my brother.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” he said. And hung up.

  That comment didn’t make me nervous. Not at all.

  • • •

  Beth sat up on the couch when I emerged from the bedroom. Her hair was tangled and ragged, her face puffy. Dan must have made coffee, because she held a mug in her hand. She lifted it to her mouth and blew on it gently.

  “Did you sleep okay?” I asked.

  “Not really.”

  “It’s not a great couch for sleeping, I guess.”

  “It’s not that,” she said. “I had a lot on my mind.”

  “I did too. But that didn’t stop me.”

  Dan disappeared into the kitchen. I heard water running and dishes clanking. He meant to give us our space to talk.

  “The police are coming to talk to me,” I said. “They have something else to tell me.”

  “They want to come here?” Beth asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but usually when they have to tell you some bad news, they come to your house and do it in person.”

  “At this point, I don’t know what to expect,” I said. “But you’re welcome to stay if you want. I’m going to shower since I haven’t done that in two days. But if you want to wait…”

  Beth shook her head. “I have to get back. My granddaughter has a soccer game. I know it’s not a big deal, but I agreed to take her. I could call my daughter and arrange something else, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I feel that you might be better off doing this on your own,” she said. “I feel like I brought all of this down on you. Ma
ybe you need to be away from me.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” I said. “Are you worried you might be in danger in Reston Point? Gordon knows where you live. He could hurt you or your family. He was already there with a knife. I’m pretty sure he broke into my apartment and trashed it.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I’ve been in tight spots before. Gordon is a son of a bitch, but I’ve known my share of those as well.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Well, I’ll call you when I know anything else. And if you want to come visit Ronnie in the hospital, you can.”

  She smiled, but it looked forced. She set the mug of coffee down on Dan’s table. I could tell there was something else she wanted to say. I could see her gearing up for it.

  “You’ve been very nice to me. Wonderful, really. And it’s great to get to know you like we did yesterday. But I understand that you and I come from very different worlds. If you decide you don’t even want to see me or talk to me again, I understand. I have my own family, and you have a nice life here.”

  “I wasn’t thinking those things,” I said.

  “Well, a lot of time has passed. I don’t want to force anything.”

  She stood up and grabbed her sweater. I stayed in my seat while she gathered her purse and started for the door. The water in the kitchen had stopped running. I suspected Dan was eavesdropping, monitoring my interaction with my half sister. He probably wanted to know whether I’d let her just walk away the way I’d let him go before.

  When Beth reached the door, I said, “You know, it was… I guess ‘fun’ isn’t really the right word. But I liked being with you last night. I mean, it felt fun to do those things with you, like getting into the hospital and all that.”

  Beth smiled. “We were like Thelma and Louise or something.”

  “Right.” She didn’t open the door. I continued. “I used to ask Mom to have another baby because I wanted a sister. She always told me she was too old. Which she was.”

  “How old was she when you were born?” Beth asked.

  “Forty-three.”

  “That is too old,” Beth said. “I already had grandchildren when I was forty-three.”

  “Damn,” I said. “Well, I know Mom thought Ronnie ended up with Down syndrome because she had him so late. She told me once that the main reason they had me was so that someone could take care of Ronnie after they were gone. It used to really piss me off that she said that.”