"There. Everything's settled." Rebecca attempted a smile.
"It will be," Marcus said. "Once we catch this bastard."
She glanced at the detective. "Can I have a word with Marcus alone, please?"
"Of course. No more than five minutes. Marcus, when you're done, meet me in the exam room across from the nurses' station?"
"Okay."
When she was alone with Marcus, her hands began to shake and her lips trembled in fear. "I'm not sure if I can do this."
"You can."
"But some guy might come in here and try to kill me."
"Might. We don't even know for sure that anyone will show. And even if he does, he won't get far. Zur will catch him." He stroked her hand, his fingers warm against her skin. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. And you trusted me once before, remember?"
"Kind of hard to forget."
"June sixteenth, 2013," he said.
"Pardon?"
"Today's date. It's a 'one' day. New beginnings, remember?"
She smiled. "I like the sound of that."
"Be brave. You're a strong woman, Rebecca Kingston. And when this all over, you and I will go out and celebrate."
She gaped at him in surprise. "Are you asking me out? On a date?"
"Time's up! I have to go now."
He was gone before she could argue.
A second later, she realized he hadn't answered her question.
Chapter Thirty- Nine
Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 2:19 PM
Geraldo and Simms, two plainclothes officers, sat at a makeshift desk—the exam table—monitoring a live computer feed and scarcely acknowledging Marcus's presence as he wandered around the room. Every now and then they'd send a status report to Zur.
"Jesus," he muttered. "How long's this going to take?"
He didn't expect an answer. And he didn't get one.
The entire floor had been cleared of nonessential personnel. Patients had been covertly diverted to other areas of the floor, while hospital security restricted all visitors. Yet there had been no action near Rebecca's room.
Come on, asshole. Take the bait!
Marcus had spent the past few hours watching the video from Rebecca's room. Only the nurse, who had been cleared by the police, and John Zur had entered the room. The latter made an imposing figure dressed in doctor's gear, a stethoscope draped around his neck and a bogus ID tag clipped to his jacket pocket.
Marcus hovered over one of the techs and listened in.
"Need anything, Mrs. Kingston?" the nurse asked, flicking a look over her shoulder and staring into the camera. She gave the thumbs-up.
"Maybe a glass of water," Rebecca said.
The nurse disappeared into the washroom and returned a few seconds later.
After Rebecca had taken a few sips, the nurse said, "I have to empty the glass. An unconscious patient wouldn't be drinking water."
"I understand."
Marcus admired Rebecca's courage. She'd been through so much. She'd survived abuse at the hands of her husband and a murder attempt that had almost been fatal. And now she was luring in a killer.
His cell phone rang. "Hey, John. Any word?"
"Nothing yet. Security is tight, but there haven't been any reports of anyone suspicious entering the hospital. 'Course it would help if we knew who the hell we were looking for."
"I keep going over everything Rebecca told me. No one else seems to benefit from her death except—"
"Wesley Kingston. I know. We showed his picture around the hotel where Delaney was staying. No one recognizes him. We did get one interesting tidbit from Delaney though."
"What's that?"
"When we checked his bank records, we found a large cash deposit."
"How large?"
"Twenty-five thousand."
"Shit. There's no way Kingston had that kind of money lying around."
"Nope. And he didn't win it gambling. We called in a few favors, asked the casino some questions—under threat of temporary shutdown."
"Let me guess. Kingston didn't borrow twenty-five thousand either."
"By all accounts, Wesley Kingston was barely scraping by. Motive? Definitely. But he didn't hire Delaney."
"Then who the hell did?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, Marcus. We're still digging around, checking his debts. Seems he owes a few thousand, but unless the casinos are lying, that's it."
"Casinos aren't known for their honesty."
"Yeah, so we're back to the old theory. That someone's trying to send Kingston a message. We're going to bring him back in for questioning if nothing pans out here tonight."
The feed on the monitor wavered.
"What's going on?" Marcus asked Geraldo.
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't you see the camera move?"
"Probably a power surge. Cameras are both working. Nothing to worry about, sir."
Marcus watched the screen. The more he stared, the more he was certain there was someone in the room with Rebecca. Someone standing near her bed.
"Can't you see that?" he asked.
"See what?" Simms snapped.
Marcus was about to point out the shadow near the bed, but it was gone.
"Rewind the tape," he demanded.
Simms clenched his jaw but obeyed. The tape raced back a minute and a half, then played.
"I don't see nothin'," Geraldo said.
Simms glared up at Marcus. "Me neither."
That made three of them.
Shit…
"Marcus!" Zur shouted from the phone.
"Sorry, John. The camera in Rebecca's room flickered for a second."
"Don't worry. She's fine. They're streaming the feed to my tablet so I can see everything you see. Maybe you should go grab a coffee, take a break. This could be a long night."
Marcus hesitated. Last thing he wanted to do was leave.
"We've got her covered," Zur said. "Grab a coffee, clear your head, then go back to the exam room. We could be waiting all night."
"Fine. I'll take a short break."
Marcus disconnected the call, then grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall. He'd get some fresh air, bring back some coffee and settle in for the long haul.
"You two want anything?" he asked, feeling benevolent.
"Coffee, double cream for me," one said.
"Black," the other replied. "And a donut if they have any."
Neither man looked up.
Marcus sighed. Seems he had a coffee run to make. Hell, at least it got him out of the room for a while. He was starting to go stir-crazy, see things that weren't there.
He thought of Jane and Ryan. He'd been seeing their ghosts for six years. They visited him at night. He'd always insisted they were merely dreams. But Jane had made an appearance yesterday near the McLeod River, and there was no way he'd dreamt that.
What did it all mean?
Means you need to sleep, dumb-ass!
Zur was right. Marcus needed to clear his head.
Chapter Forty
Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 10: 55 PM
The lamp overhead cast soft shadows into the corners of the room as Rebecca lay in bed, staring at the tiny holes in the ceiling tiles, playing a random game of Connect the Dots. As she mentally drew the lines, her mind returned over and over again to the one thought that haunted her.
Who wanted her dead?
Her pulse raced, even though the machines beside her didn't register this. Lights flashed on it, giving the illusion that she was hooked up. But she wasn't.
There was a silence so thick it nearly choked her. It was broken occasionally by intermittent footsteps. When she heard them, she'd have a second to feign unconsciousness before Detective Zur or the nurse entered and reassured her she was doing the right thing.
She needed this nightmare to be over. She wanted nothing more than to gather her children in her arms and tell them everything was okay.
It will be. Soon.
She wouldn't even consider what would happen if Detective Zur's plan failed. Sure, Marcus had agreed to stay with her for a while, until they found whoever was doing this, but she couldn't expect him to stay forever.
Her body tingled when she pictured Marcus's kind face. His strong hands and soothing voice. She could tell he wasn't sold on Detective Zur's plan. He was afraid for her. He'd already saved her once. It was natural he'd feel somewhat responsible for her.
Is that all it is? This connection between us?
Perhaps she'd been reading the signals all wrong. It seemed rather silly to think there was anything more than a rescuer/victim relationship developing here. And maybe a little innocent flirting. They were both adults. He was single and she was almost single. Maybe he didn't think of her the way she'd been thinking of him.
At least Colton and Ella were safe. Kelly and Steve had picked them up and taken them back to Edmonton.
She pictured their sweet faces, and tears pooled in her eyes. My babies.
But even they couldn't keep the terror from her soul.
What if the police were too late? What if she died tonight?
A movement in the corner of her room caught her eye. She blinked. The shadows there rippled as though someone were standing there. She squinted, and for a second, she could almost swear there was a woman in her room.
But there was no one there.
The most peculiar thing was that instead of being horrified by the thought that someone was in her room, she felt this strange sense of peace. Like she was being watched over by a calm, loving presence.
She bit back a laugh. Good grief. Now you're imagining a guardian angel?
A breeze wafted over her, and she inhaled the scent of sandalwood.
Weird. Nurses aren't supposed to wear perfume. And I'm not wearing any.
So where was the scent coming from?
A sound interrupted her thoughts.
Footsteps.
Coming closer to her room.
The door opened and she shut her eyes, waiting for the nurse or Detective Zur to make themselves known.
Silence.
Maybe she'd imagined the footsteps too.
With caution, she slowly opened one eye. She didn't see anyone at first. She was about to open both eyes, when a voice whispered, "Keep your eyes closed." It was a woman's voice and not one she recognized.
Footsteps approached the bed, and Rebecca tamped down the lurching of her heart. A shiver ran down her body.
"Stay calm," the voice in her ear said.
What the heck? Why would a killer tell her to stay calm? And how would they know she was conscious? It didn't make sense.
The person standing by her bed leaned over her. Rebecca could tell because the dim light she sensed behind her closed lids became darker.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca," a second voice said.
That voice she recognized.
Chapter Forty-One
Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 11:08 PM
Marcus took the stairs down to the first floor and walked past the cafeteria on the way to the ER. As he moved toward the exterior doors, he noticed a man standing near the elevator, arguing with a police officer.
Marcus frowned. What the hell is Wesley Kingston doing here?
"I want to see my wife for a few minutes," Kingston was saying to the officer.
"Sorry, sir, but Detective Zur wants you to stay here. He'll be down in a few minutes."
"Problem?" Marcus showed the officer his ID. "Marcus Taylor, 911." He was sure by now all the officers on duty would know he had clearance. "Detective Zur can vouch for me."
"Already has," the officer said. "Mr. Kingston is insisting on seeing his wife."
Marcus turned to Rebecca's husband. "Wesley, your wife's in ICU."
"I know. I want to make sure she's okay."
"She's unconscious."
The man flinched, and a small part of Marcus took pleasure in Kingston's pain.
"They're doing everything they can for her," Marcus said. "Let's go grab a coffee."
"Tracey is getting me one. And some dinner. I would've joined her in the cafeteria except I was detained." He glared at the officer. "By this man. He even searched me like I was some common criminal or something."
The officer shrugged. "I'm following orders."
"Let's sit down somewhere," Marcus said with a sigh.
As much as he didn't want Kingston's company, it appeared he wouldn't be able to escape it. Someone had to calm the man down. He could blow everything.
"I'm sure you want the best for your wife, so trust me when I say she'll be fine."
"But the news said she'd had a relapse. She was supposed to be released today."
"These things happen. They're taking good care of her." Marcus took a deep breath. "You see anyone else around the hospital that you know?"
Kingston shook his head. "It's like a morgue around here. Dead quiet."
The guy was oblivious to how inappropriate his comment was, considering where they were.
"You're probably wondering why I even care, seeing as Becca and I are getting a divorce."
Marcus shrugged. "Not my business."
Wesley Kingston stared at the floor. "I made a lot of mistakes. Too many to count. But there are two things I got right—Colton and Ella. I'm not a deadbeat dad. I love my kids. And no matter what Becca and I become, friends or foe, that'll never change."
"The police think you hired the guy that ran your wife's car off the road."
"I would never do such a thing. Besides, how could I hire someone? I haven't got that kind of money?"
"What kind?"
"Whatever it takes to hire someone." Kingston gazed into his eyes. "I swear to you, Mr. Taylor, I had nothing to do with this. I don't hate Rebecca like that. I'm moving on. I have a fiancée, and I'm cutting back on the gambling. We're not rich by anyone's standards. But eventually I'll get a better job, and until I do, Tracey's income from the old folks' home is enough to survive on."
"So you don't owe anyone money?"
"You mean like the casinos?" Kingston shook his head. "Like I told the detective, I had a few small debts, but those were paid off last week."
"From the money Rebecca had saved."
"No, Tracey got a loan."
Marcus saw Zur approaching. He stood. "I have to go, Mr. Kingston. Your date has arrived."
Wesley Kingston greeted the detective with a glum sigh. "How's Rebecca?"
Zur flicked a look at Marcus. "She's still unconscious. I'll take you up to see her in a while. First, I have few more questions."
With his jacket tucked over one arm, Marcus left them to talk and stepped through the emergency doors and out onto the sidewalk. The night air was invigorating, and he inhaled it as though it might be his last breath. After a minute or two, a chill seeped through the thin dress shirt he wore. He shivered.
He was about to put on his jacket when a rectangular piece of paper fell from the pocket and wafted across the parking lot. His initial reaction was to ignore it. It was probably a receipt. But something made him rush after the paper. He grabbed it before it blew into the bushes.
It was the photo he'd taken from Rebecca's house.
Running back to the hospital entrance, he held the photo under the light and studied it. There was Rebecca looking happier than he'd ever seen her. Wesley appeared a bit nervous, but happy. In the background, a crowd of people gathered around them, champagne glasses raised in a congratulatory toast.
Marcus's gaze flitted across the unfamiliar faces.
Until he saw one he recognized.
Oh damn…
Warning bells blared in his head.
His eyes scoured the nearby bushes. Then the cars parked in the lot.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Then why did it feel like a current of electricity sizzled beneath his skin?
Jane?
She appeared in a fog of serene radiance,
her beautiful face and melancholy gaze expressing a despondency that gripped his heart. She stretched out a hand.
As he reached for it, she whispered one word. "Hurry…"
Chapter Forty -Two
Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 11:12 PM
Rebecca peeked between half-closed eyes. Her suspicion was correct. The voice had come from someone she'd never have suspected. In some ways it made sense, though they'd been civil to each other, and Rebecca wasn't a threat.
So then why was Tracey Whitaker in her room, dressed in a nurse's uniform and holding a syringe?
As instructed, Rebecca feigned grogginess. "Hi, Tracey. What are y-you doing h-here?"
Tracey leaned over her. "I came to finish the job."
"W-what do you mean?" Rebecca muffled an exaggerated yawn, praying that Detective Zur was getting every word on tape. "What job? What are you talking about?"
"You were supposed to die, Rebecca. Quick and easy." Tracey shrugged. "Well, maybe not so quick. But it was supposed to be a simple hit and run, no survivor."
"But you and Wesley are getting married. I'm not standing in your way. You can have him. There's no need to do this."
Tracey shook her head. "Rebecca, you have no idea. Of course I have to do this. For the money."
The money? This was all about the kids' inheritance?
"You know Wesley can't touch that money," Rebecca said in a faux-groggy voice.
"He can if you're dead before the divorce goes through. He'd automatically get custody of Ella and Colton, and everything that comes with them. Including the money your grandfather left them. Wesley would have signing authority."
"I'm not sure it would work that way."
Tracey smiled. "We've already consulted a lawyer. The guy insisted there's no contingency plan. If you die, Wesley gets the money."
"It's for the kids." Where the hell is Detective Zur?
Tracey placed her hands on either side of Rebecca's pillow, then hunched down close to Rebecca's face. "It's not difficult to make an expense look like it's for them and not us."
"I can't believe Wesley's in on this," Rebecca slurred. "I can't believe the father of my children would agree to murder. Of me or his kids. My God…"
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