by Janice Kay Johnson - Cop by Her Side (The Mysteries of Angel Butte)
“What about you?” she asked. “How did your morning go?”
In between bites, he told her. She finally had the chance to start eating.
“Stillwell wasn’t pleased to see me. He professed not to understand why I’m treating a woman who lies unconscious in the hospital as a suspect.” He grimaced. “Not that you haven’t said the same.”
“Not recently.”
“No.” He went on to say that Lissa’s boss had understood why he needed to interview Lissa’s coworkers. “Mostly it was a waste of time. I got the same thing you did. I was told how bubbly she is, how much fun. A couple of the women were obviously taken by Lissa’s husband.” He sounded wry. “And what darling daughters. I heard how devoted a mother she is.”
“I actually think she is. It’s...one of her redeeming qualities. Her not wanting to take Bree along on an errand is really unusual. I mean, she didn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. She insisted she’d go out of her mind, but she does spend a ton of time with them.”
Clay seemed to accept what she said. “The one place the vibes weren’t quite as warm and fuzzy was, interestingly enough, in the finance department. An overblown description for an office with a grand total of three employees. They have a temp filling in for your sister right now,” he added.
On a spasm of grief, Jane wondered if Lissa would ever be going back to work at Stillwell Trucking. Or to work at all. She bowed her head momentarily, concentrating on poking a tomato slice back into the roll.
“This time Ms. Bitterman, the other bookkeeper, sounded a little catty. I didn’t get the impression they liked each other much.”
“I’ve had the impression Lissa didn’t like her,” Jane admitted. “She didn’t think Betty Jean did a fair share of the work. Lissa thought Mr. Stillwell should let her go.”
“Did she call the boss mister? Not by his first name?”
“No, it was always Mr. Stillwell.”
He nodded. “Arnett, the accountant, was irritated I was wasting his time. He’s not a real friendly guy. I may be mistaken, but I’d swear I caught a flash of intense dislike for your sister before he hid it with impatience.”
“But...how does it matter? Do you picture either of them forcing Lissa off the road and then abducting Bree? Why would they?”
“Betty Jean, no. Arnett... I’ve got to tell you, my impression is he’s cold enough to do anything he thinks he has to. Why, though, that’s another story. What I didn’t get from anyone at the company was the sense Lissa had anything going with Arnett, or any other man, for that matter.” He wadded up the wrappings. “No hint of an affair from any of her friends?”
Jane shook her head. “Nope.”
“All right. Keep at it.” He rolled his shoulders as if the muscles were tight. “Goddamn, I wish she could talk to us.”
“Drew thinks any minute. He said she’s making noises that aren’t quite words.”
“That’s good.” His tone was encouraging, but his eyes said as clearly as words that Lissa might never speak coherently again.
Suddenly losing her appetite, Jane set down the heel of her sandwich and bundled it into the wrappings, ready to throw away.
“Now what?” she asked, hopelessness stealing over her again.
Clay’s gaze met hers. “Your sister has been in a position to see the money trail at Stillwell Trucking. Stillwell was a little too alarmed today. I think he’s dirty. I don’t know how, but I’m going to start poking around.”
She stared at him. She’d spent a good part of the last year investigating the messy world of drug trafficking. Law enforcement attention had mostly been focused on private airfields and the small planes flying in and out, but trucking... That was another form of transportation, one that rarely caused a second glance.
“What if it’s drugs?” she said.
Clay smiled. There was no light of humor in his eyes. She couldn’t help thinking that his expression was wolfish. “Great minds think alike. Stillwell bragged to me about how his trucks run from the Mexican border north to the Canadian. He’d be perfectly situated.”
“You’re thinking Lissa saw something she shouldn’t have.”
“Maybe.”
His response was unexpansive, but it was all he’d say. Jane needed to get to the hospital, Clay back to work, so they parted in the parking lot, Clay kissing her lightly on the lips this time, his last words, “I’ll call.”
She watched him stride away, wishing she was going with him instead of to the hospital.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“A LOT OF people are pulling for you, Lissa,” Jane said softly.
Because she’d been busy all day, she had come to the hospital after dinner to sit with her sister. She thought Drew, so exhausted he almost looked worse than his wife, had been relieved at Jane’s offer to take his place. With Lissa’s coma so light, Drew wanted someone with her as much as possible. Jane agreed. It really seemed now as if Lissa was responding to their voices, if not to what they were saying. Her fingers tightened on theirs, she tossed her head on the pillow, she made sounds, from whispery quiet to guttural. Sometimes she looked as if she was fighting her way free.
Please.
“We need your help,” she said, watching her sister’s face. “No, not we. Bree needs you.”
Lissa opened her eyes.
“Lissa?” Jane’s voice cracked. “Oh, my God. You’re awake.”
Her sister’s lips moved but nothing came out. Then she worked her mouth as if it was too dry to be functional.
“A sip of water? Is that what you’d like?”
Jane swore those lips formed a yes. She’d brought a water bottle with her she hadn’t yet opened. Now she took the top off and slid her hand behind her sister’s neck to help her lift her head slightly. She was careful to give only a few sips, although Lissa seemed to want more.
“You really are awake,” she said then, and discovered her faith had been shakier than she’d known. “Let me tell the nurse.”
A flurry of activity ensued, and she had to step back out of the way. A doctor came in to examine Lissa, and for a while there were several people around the bed blocking Jane’s view. She saw enough to know that Lissa’s eyes had remained open, though, and that she’d croaked a few words.
Drew. She had to call Drew.
And Clay.
Jane withdrew from ICU and paced in the empty corridor outside as she dialed.
“Drew? She’s awake.” She had to tell him she didn’t yet know how clearheaded Lissa was, only that she’d looked as if she recognized Jane, had been able to drink water, and had said a few words. “It’s early enough, maybe you could arrange for Alexis to spend the night with one of her friends. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so most of the parents won’t be working.”
“I’ll make calls,” he said, sounding frenzied. “There must be someone.”
Jane phoned Clay next, who sounded pleased to hear her voice until she told him why she was calling, at which point he became all cop.
“You haven’t had a chance to ask any questions yet?”
“No, of course not! I don’t even know yet whether she’s suffered brain damage. I just thought you’d like to know.”
“Do you want me to come?” he asked.
Yes. She was stunned at how much she did. Not because he could pry information from her sister, but because her own emotions were in turmoil and she wanted him there, holding her hand. Looking at her with those understanding blue eyes and saying whatever she needed to hear.
The strength of her longing was enough to add crispness to her voice. “No, there’s no point yet. At the very least, she’s bound to be confused. I’ll let you know when it might be possible for her to be questioned.”
“The sooner the better, you know.”
“I do know.” S
he resented the sharpness in his voice. Did he think she could forget Bree for one single minute?
Except...she had. Ashamed, she knew that when she was making love with Clay, she hadn’t thought of anyone but him. Bree was either dead or being held somewhere, terrified, and Aunt Jane had been indulging herself in passion.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly.
“Call me. No matter what. I want to hear how she is, and—” there was a hesitation “—how you are.” His voice had softened.
He was never entirely cop with her. “Okay.” She had to clear her throat. “I’ll let you know in a couple of hours how it’s going.”
His “goodbye” was gentle, stirring up all the complicated feelings Jane had for and about him. Trying to block them out, she put her phone on her belt and hurried back into ICU.
The doctor had gone, and only one nurse remained at Lissa’s bedside. The nurse, middle-aged and likable, beamed at Jane. “She asked for you.”
“Really?” Jane took her sister’s hand. Lissa’s fingers curled around hers. Her eyes had been closed, but now they fluttered open again.
“Janie?”
When they were little girls, that was what Lissa had called her. It had been so many years since Jane had heard that. Her heart lurched. Was Lissa lost in the past?
“Yeah,” she said huskily. “It’s me. Oh, Liss. How are you?”
“Head...ache,” her sister whispered.
“I bet.” She surveyed Lissa’s face. “You hit your head really hard. You’ve still got a whopper of a black eye, you know. Well, not black so much anymore. More purple. If you were looking in a mirror, you’d be reaching for the concealer.”
Lissa’s mouth curved into a smile. It felt like a miracle.
“I called Drew. He’ll be here in a few minutes. He was with you all day.” Her smile probably wobbled. “I’m the evening shift.”
“Thank...you.”
“I’ll leave you alone,” the nurse said kindly, and disappeared toward the nurses’ station.
“Hos...pi...tal?” Lissa seemed to be having to frame words one syllable at a time.
“Yes. You had an accident.” She tried to talk slowly, waiting for comprehension. “You went off the road. Shrubbery stopped your Venza, but not suddenly enough to make the air bag deploy. Because of the angle you ended up tilted at, you hit your head on the side window. It knocked you out.”
“Oh.” Lissa seemed to be trying to remember and failing. Finally, her eyes drifted shut.
Jane hardly breathed, watching her sister. Apprehension filled her. Had Lissa slipped back into a coma? Was she asleep? A sense of urgency pounded at Jane, but it was obvious Lissa was in no condition to answer questions. She wanted to wake her, evoke a response, just to make sure she hadn’t reverted to the coma, but also knew that Lissa would have to take her recovery slowly. Probably she’d been exhausted by as much effort as she’d already made.
And really, she’d done splendidly, Jane told herself. Lissa had been...present. Aware of her surroundings. She knew Jane. Her eyes had seemed to acknowledge her understanding of why Drew had sat at her side all day, and was now rushing to the hospital again. They could all lay to rest their worst fears. She truly seemed like herself.
Suddenly chilled, Jane thought, No, this wasn’t their worst fear at all. That had to do with Bree, not Lissa.
She ended up sitting silently, unable to take her gaze from her sister’s face, doing nothing but watching her breathe. Worrying. It must have been half an hour when she heard quick footsteps beyond the cubicle. She was already rising to her feet when Drew rushed in.
His eyes searched her face, then his wife’s. “Lissa?”
His voice was loud, and Lissa started. Her eyes opened again, and she stared wildly around before she fixed on Drew’s face.
“God, Lissa.” He stumbled to the chair Jane had been sitting in earlier, and almost fell onto it. He sounded...shattered, as if he was jubilant but terrified, too. Jane didn’t blame him.
Part of her thought she ought to leave them alone, give them some privacy. But another part of her—Lieutenant Vahalik—didn’t want to. Didn’t entirely trust Drew to be honest about everything Lissa admitted to him. She felt a tiny twinge of guilt at her earlier hurt when Clay had transformed in an instant to detective instead of lover. She of all people should understand.
So instead of leaving, she backed away, hovering near the foot of the bed in the doorway in hopes of being unobtrusive. It must have worked, because Drew and Lissa focused utterly on each other.
“You’re awake.” He touched his wife’s face, his fingers shaking. “I can’t believe it.”
“Head.” She tried to lift her own hand.
Drew captured it in his.
“It’s been a week. Almost a week. Do you know how scared I’ve been?”
Her head moved slightly on the pillow. No.
“Do you remember me talking to you?”
Ripples across her forehead indicated confusion. “Not...sure.”
“No.” He laughed, a sound as distraught as his expression when he’d first arrived. “Of course you don’t. Sweetheart, do you remember...?”
Jane tensed.
“’Member?” her sister mumbled.
“The accident? Anything about it?”
“No-o.” Lissa drew the word out, as if unsure even of that much.
“I shouldn’t push you. It’s just—” He jolted and his head turned until he was looking at Jane. So he hadn’t entirely forgotten her presence.
She shook her head slightly in answer to the question he seemed to be asking.
Instinct said they had to give Lissa time. With her confusion so apparent, she was unlikely to be able to tell them anything useful. And upsetting her might slow her recovery. What if her distress was so great she had to be sedated?
“Not yet,” Jane murmured, and he nodded even though his expression was still wild enough, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted him not to press for answers.
Lissa seemed content to hold his hand. She drifted off to sleep again, and finally he gently placed her hand on the bedcover and stood. Jane stepped outside and he followed.
“I’m going to stay,” he said.
Her sense of urgency hadn’t abated, but she didn’t believe that half an hour or even two hours from now Lissa was going to wake up remembering all and demanding to know where Bree was.
“I think we should let her rest,” Jane said. “Even a few words seem to tire her. I understand why you need to stay, but I’d suggest you don’t do anything for now but comfort her if she seems to need it. We may see a big improvement by morning.”
He looked back through the open doorway to the bed. “All right. I will sit for a little while.”
“Alexis?”
“She’s at her friend Zoe’s house. She’ll be fine. Zoe’s mother said she could keep her all day tomorrow if I needed to be at the hospital.”
“Good. Well, then, I think I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
Worry quickened on his face and he stepped too close to her. “You aren’t going home, are you? I mean, I hope you’ll stay at our place. We can talk later.”
“For tonight, at least.” Caution made her add, “I may not wait up for you, though. I know it’s ridiculously early, but I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m ready to crash.”
He’d visibly relaxed. “I know what you mean. That’s fine. I’ll see you at breakfast, then?”
It was a question, one she had to answer, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he had to say. Probably he just hoped to have someone to listen as he babbled out his relief, but...Clay had made her nervous and more aware that Drew was sending some mixed signals.
“Sure,” she said easily. “Drive carefully when yo
u head home. You’ve got to be at the end of your rope.”
“I guess I am.” He suddenly gave an exultant grin. “She’s herself, Jane.” He drew her into a quick, hard hug, then went back into the small glass-fronted room.
Jane walked out, hoping she was doing the right thing leaving him. Before she even stepped out into the parking lot, she was calling Clay.
* * *
BY THE TIME Jane called him again midmorning, Clay’s tension had stretched to the point where he couldn’t even sit at his desk. He prowled instead, making everyone else edgy.
Tips had picked up again after the press conference, keeping his small task force busy on the phones. He’d sent officers out to check further into a few, but none struck him as especially promising, certainly not enough to get him excited.
He’d occupied himself talking again to the witness who’d actually seen the car that had been stopped at the accident. Clay took with him pictures he’d printed out in color of luxury sedans. There were a lot of more ordinary four-door sedans, but in his experience, people’s first impressions tended to be accurate. The car might not turn out to have been a Lexus, but he was betting it was something in that class.
The guy was clearly embarrassed to have been so unobservant. Mumbling something about not being a car guy, he flipped through the sheaf of pages, starting with Audi at the top and Volvo at the bottom, then the second tier of slightly more modest models, from Acura to the Toyota Avalon. A few of them he shook his head decisively over, but in the end he had to admit he didn’t know.
Clay thanked him and went back to the station, where he sat at his computer and pulled up DMV records. He started with James Stillwell, who, he learned, drove a 2013 Land Rover. The second car, in his wife’s name, was a BMW, but a model that was too small to fit the witness’s description, and red besides.
Glenn Arnett clearly wasn’t hurting for money, either. He’d gone for an even bigger SUV, the Cadillac Escalade, in a dark blue. The family’s second car was a hybrid, a Prius, and they were also registered as owning a vintage Mustang. The sixteen-year-old son had a brand-new Mini Cooper, presumably a gift from Daddy.
