Mystery Dad

by Leona Karr

  She was aware of the swaying action of the ambulance and muffled voices that came and went like echoes in a tunnel. After she felt the vehicle braking to a stop, someone propelled her on a fast-moving gurney into the building. Different voices assaulted her.

  “A mugging.”

  “Bring her over here!”

  “Head injury.”

  “Call Dr. Vanderfelt.”

  Blurred faces hung over her, and every part of her body seemed to be compressed, constrained or restricted. She felt like a doll whose stuffing was being pulled out by uncaring hands.

  “Can you hear me?” A man asked as he pulled back her eyelids and shone a bright pinpoint of light in her eyes.

  She managed a croak that he must have taken to mean, yes.

  “Good. Looks like someone gave you a good wallop on the back of the head. I’m checking your eye reflexes and visual fields. Can you tell me your name?”

  She wanted to ignore him, but he kept prodding her, so she mumbled, “Kerri Kincaid.”

  “Do you remember what happened, Ms. Kincaid?” he asked as he tested her limbs for loss of sensation, and checked on her muscle strength.

  Kerri’s memory was like an old strip of movie film, broken and frayed. As pain ricocheted through her head, some scenes came clear, others blurred and fuzzy. She’d been in Mark’s apartment, she remembered that. Looking for something. Yes, the note. She latched onto the memory as if it were a rescue line, but she couldn’t quite recall what happened next. Her memory jumped and she was running out of the building. Even now, a sense of urgency remained with her but she couldn’t pin down the reason.

  “Do you know who hit you?”

  Once again she croaked a sound that caught in her throat.

  “All right, Ms. Kincaid, the cranial nerves seem intact. We’re going to take some pictures and see what we have.”

  With a wave of his hand, the stretcher was moving again. She closed her eyes against the dizzying patterns of lights flashing by on the ceiling above her. Various hands lifted, tugged and pulled, and crisp voices ordered her to hold her breath.

  By the time they’d finished with X rays and checked her into a patient room on the ninth floor, she was ready to shut out the world and go to sleep. But they wouldn’t let her.

  “We have to monitor your vital signs,” a pleasant woman advised her as she took Kerri’s blood pressure, pulse and respiratory rate, yet again.

  “Can’t you go pester somebody else for a while?” she grumbled.

  The nurse just laughed. “So, we’re getting better, are we?”

  When the doctor came in, Kerri had a good look at Dr. Vanderfelt for the first time. A small, dapper man in a white coat, he sailed around the side of the bed and gave her a cheery smile. “How’s the head?”

  “Thumping like a bongo drum.”

  “Well, we can give you a little something for that. And we’ll remove your neck collar. You’re lucky, Ms. Kincaid. No sign of a skull fracture. Looks like head trauma, with a transitory loss of consciousness. Of course, we’ll have to keep you a while to observe for subdural hemorrhage or brain injury.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “How long is ‘a while’?”

  “We’ll know more tomorrow.” He patted her arm. “Just relax.” He murmured some instructions to the nurse and disappeared.

  A few minutes later a nurse came in with her pain pill. “A policeman is here to see you. Do you feel like talking? He says he’s your brother-in-law.”

  “Oh, yes, let him in.”

  Tears swelled up in Kerri’s eyes as Harry came in. Harry. Blessed Harry. Still in uniform, he bent his sturdy frame over her bed, wrinkles of concern in his round face. “What happened, Kerri?” he asked softly.

  “I…I don’t know for sure.”

  “The report came in as a mugging. A woman driving by in her car saw you slumped on the sidewalk and called it in. Your purse with your wallet was still on you, so identification was immediate. As soon as the report came in, I came right over.”

  “I’m glad,” she said, more foolish tears springing to her eyes.

  He bent over her. “Kerri, if you can give us any clue at all who did it, we’ll put out a net.”

  “I wish I could, but nothing’s very clear.” She bit her lower lip. “The doctor says my mind will clear as the trauma to my head lessens but I’m having trouble remembering.”

  He nodded, and patted her hand. “It’s okay. When you think of something, let me know. We usually don’t have muggings in that area. It’s too well patrolled and there’s good security in buildings like the Crystal Lofts. The attack on you must have been an impulsive one.”

  Impulsive? Maybe so, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would someone mug me and then leave my purse and wallet?”

  “Maybe they were scared off,” Harry offered. “So far no witnesses have come forward, but we might get lucky. Anyway, we’ll keep a lookout and see what we can dig up.” He patted her hand again. “Rest while you can, hon. Your mother and sister will be here shortly to smother you with attention. Grandma and I will watch over the kids while they tend to you.”

  Harry gave her an avuncular kiss on the cheek and told her not to worry. “Everything’s going to work out.”

  After he’d gone, she felt guilty about causing her family even more trouble. What in the world would she do without them? She’d really pulled them into a mess this time. How could she do her job of tracmg anyone when she couldn’t think straight? And what would be Mark’s reaction when he heard what had happened?

  HE NEARLY DROPPED the phone. “What?” Mark gasped when he called Kerri’s office the next morning from Los Angeles, and Debbie informed him that Kerri had been mugged the night before and was still in the hospital.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you call me?” he roared.

  “I didn’t know anything about it myself until a few minutes ago,” Debbie retorted defensively. “Kerri called me from the hospital herself, and she didn’t say anything about notifying you.”

  Damn stubborn woman. He swore. “How badly is she hurt?”

  “She’s hoping they’re going to release her later today.”

  Some of the tightness in his chest lessened. “Then she’s going to be okay?”

  “She sounded a little out of it on the phone,” Debbie admitted. “I mean, her voice was all wavery, and I could tell she was in pain. Real pain.” Debbie sighed. “It’s so sad. Her being all alone like that. And she shouldn’t be worrying about business, but I guess it’ll take more than a crushed skull to slow her down.”

  “A crushed skull! Is that what she has? Why would they be releasing her with a severe injury like that?”

  “Oh, you know hospitals these days,” Debbie said with a meaningful sigh. “And Kerri’s so stubborn. I was surprised she didn’t want me to bring some work over to the hospital. She’s determined to find your sister-in-law at all costs.” Debbie sighed again. “If she hadn’t gone to your place, she wouldn’t have been mugged.”

  “What? She was mugged in my apartment?”

  “Not in your apartment. But right in front of the building.” There was a slight accusing edge to Debbie’s tone. “Kerri doesn’t remember exactly what happened. The police are trying to find a witness.”

  Mark couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Never in the world would he have thought her in any danger stopping by the loft to look for the note. And yet, somehow, he felt responsible. “Which hospital?”

  “Saint Joseph’s. Would you like the number?” Debbie asked sweetly. “She’s in room 912. I know she’d love to hear from you.”

  Mark wasn’t so sure. Maybe she rued the day she’d ever met him. With a driving need to reassure himself that she was all right, he quickly dialed the number, but didn’t get past the front desk. “I’m sorry sir, we have a temporary hold on that number. I am unable to connect you.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “I have no information, sir, but there’s no need to b
e alarmed. It may be that the doctor has ordered complete rest, no visitors, no telephone calls.”

  “But she was hoping to go home today.”

  “That would be up to her physician.”

  “Who is her physician?”

  “I’m not authorized to give out that information. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” Mark snapped and hung up the phone. Then he dialed information and got Kerri’s home number. After several rings, a sweet old lady’s voice answered very politely, “Kincaid residence. To whom am I speaking?”

  Kerri’s grandmother. Mark didn’t want to alarm the old lady by questioning her about what was going on at the hospital, but he had to know. “It’s Mark Richards,” he said and tried to identify himself by adding, “I brought the children to your home the other day and—”

  “Oh, Mr. Richards. I remember you very well. I was telling Kerri you were a fine strapping figure of a man.” Her voice suddenly became muffled and he realized she had put her hand over the receiver and was talking to someone in the room. He thought he heard his name, and then there was a silence before Kerri’s mother with her Irish lilt came on the line.

  “Oh, Mr. Richards, how nice of you to be calling. Kerri was saying that you were in California. Are you back then?”

  “No, I’m calling from the Los Angeles office. I just learned this morning about Kerri’s accident. I tried to talk to her at the hospital but they wouldn’t put my call through.”

  “Doctor’s orders. That girl of mine is as stubborn as a goose laying eggs. Doesn’t know the meaning of rest when there’s a phone within reach. She was hoping to come home today, but the doctor wants her to stay quiet for another twenty-four hours. That means no visitors, and no phones. If you’re wondering how soon she’ll be back to work on finding the children’s mother, I really don’t know.”

  Mark hadn’t even thought about the delay this might cause in finding Ardie. “We’ll worry about that later. If Kerri’s okay, and they let her out of the hospital tomorrow, that’s all that matters. I can’t fly back to Denver until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll check with you as soon as I get back.”

  “I rather suspect she’d be willing to give you a minute or two,” Mrs. Kincaid answered dryly.

  He asked how the children were doing, and listened to a glowing monologue about every cute thing they’d said or done. No doubt about it, the kids had hit the lotto when Kerri took them home to be with her family. Mark found himself wishing he’d seen their antics himself.

  THE NEXT TWENTY-FOUR hours were the longest Mark had ever spent as he tried to keep his mind on hiring a new consultant. He knew there was nothing he could do to ensure Kerri’s well-being, but that didn’t keep him from wanting to pick up the telephone and begin issuing some orders. Instead, he’d sent flowers and a note that promised he’d see her as soon as he got back to Denver.

  When he was finally in the air, counting the minutes of the two-hour flight, his anxiety rose to a new peak. Maybe Kerri hadn’t been released from the hospital as planned. What if her condition had worsened since he’d talked to her mother the day before? Would someone have called him? He doubted it. He wasn’t family, just a client. Reaching for the cellular phone on the plane, he silently cursed himself for not keeping in touch with Debbie or the family every few hours. He dialed Finders, Inc., and received a recorded message for his efforts.

  Where in blazes was Debbie? Glancing at his watch for the hundredth time, he saw that it was only two-thirty Denver time. Was she taking a long lunch hour? Or had she gone to the hospital? He quickly dialed the number for Saint Joseph’s Hospital. A repeated busy signal fueled his frustration to an explosive flash point. When he finally had the receptionist on the line, he was ready to do battle, but was left without a target when she said, “Miss Kincaid was released this morning.”

  Weakly, he hung up the phone, leaned back in his first-class seat, and motioned the stewardess to bring him a strong Scotch and soda. As soon as they landed, he picked up his car, and went straight from the airport to the house.

  Cathy answered the door and gave him an appraising smile as she invited him in. “What a nice surprise, Mr. Richards.”

  “I called the hospital and they said Kerri had been released.”

  “Yes, we brought her home a couple of hours ago.”

  “How’s she doing? Is she up to company? I know she needs to rest, and I wouldn’t want to tire her. If she’s sleeping, I could come back. I guess I should have called first, but I was anxious about her so I came straight from the airport. I really would like to see her.” He knew he was talking too fast, but his nervousness, pent up for too many hours, demanded some release, and he wasn’t even embarrassed by this plea to see for himself that she was all right.

  Cathy’s smile broadened. “I think your visit would be good medicine. Come on, let’s go upstairs and take a peek into her bedroom. If she’s awake, you can say hi.”

  He followed Kerri’s sister up an old-fashioned staircase with a beautiful banister, topped by a polished mahogany newel post. Wide steps creaked under his weight, and a grandfather clock that dominated the landing welcomed him with a deep bonging that boldly declared the hour. He could hear muffled noises somewhere deep in the old house, but on the second floor, there was a hushed quietness that promised soothing tranquility to frayed spirits and a hurting body. Thick walls had weathered storms raging against roof and rafters, standing firm, and protecting those inside. He could almost feel the presence of all those who had lived within these walls, as if something of their loving spirits remained. For the first time, he understood why Kerri loved this house so much that she chose it over any modern condominium.

  Kerri’s bedroom door was open. Mark hesitated in the hall while Cathy poked her head inside the room. Then she turned back to Mark. “She’s awake and decent. Go on in.” With a knowing chuckle, she disappeared back down the stairs.

  “Hi. It’s me,” he said from the doorway.

  Kerri sat up against some pillows in the middle of a large brass bed. A late afternoon sun coming through lightly curtained west windows lent a muted golden glow to the room. If the situation had been different, Mark would have laughed because she looked very much like a little girl pretending to be grown-up enough to sleep in the monstrous bed.

  “Come in,” she said with a welcoming smile.

  “How’re you doing?”

  “Fine. Just playing lazy.” Shadows darkened her deep-set eyes, but he was relieved to see that she seemed as spunky as ever.

  “I should have known you were too hardheaded to come to any harm,” he said lightly, even as his heart tightened just looking at her. He hadn’t been able to think about anything but how important she was to him, and how devastated he was that something like this had happened to her.

  “You don’t look so hot yourself,” she chided, eyeing his tired, worried expression and the deep lines around his mouth.

  “Thanks, I make the trip from California like a bat out of hell, and all you can do is insult me.” He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “I worried about you the whole trip back. I didn’t know whether you’d been released from the hospital, or if something had happened to keep you there. I tried calling your office from the plane but only got a recording.”

  “I sent Debbie over to the graphologist’s with Ardie’s note. No use everyone lying around taking a holiday,” she said, smiling at him. “Thanks for the bouquet of roses. I think five dozen is overdoing it a bit,” she chided. “I wasn’t that sick.”

  “Really?” He searched her face, and fought the need to take her in his arms and hold her close. “I was under the impression that you got carted off to the hospital in an ambulance.”

  “I just got bopped on the head.” A slight tremble of her lower lip defied the bravado in her voice. “I don’t know who or why. The police think it was a mugging, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  He took one of her hands in his, lightly caressing it with his thumb. “Don’t tal
k about it if it upsets you.”

  “I need to understand what happened. My purse wasn’t taken and nothing I had in it is missing. It just doesn’t add up.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve had trouble remembering everything that happened. I know I went to your apartment and found the note just where you thought it would be.” Moistening her dry lips, she said, “And last night, I woke up from a dream and remembered something else.” Her hand tightened in his. “I think I saw Ardie when I was leaving your building.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” she admitted reluctantly. “I told you my memory is a little faulty. Until last night I didn’t remember seeing anyone in the foyer. Then it came back to me as clearly as anything. There was a light-haired woman, Ardie’s height and weight, on the other side of the glass doors. I had just come out of the elevator when she saw me and hurried away. I remember running outside.”

  “And did you see her?”

  “No, but that’s when someone hit me on the head.”

  “Could she have been the one that did it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because just a second after I was hit, I know I heard a man swear.”

  Mark was silent, trying to make some sense out of what Kerri was saying. If Ardie had returned to his place, why wouldn’t she come out in the open about getting her kids back? Mark knew Kerri could easily be hallucinating about having seen her. The impression that she saw Ardie could have been a subconscious illusion. And her conviction that it was a man who struck her could be a part of the same faulty memory.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Kerri drew her hand away from his. “Well, to tell the truth, I don’t believe me, either. There’re too darn many pieces of this puzzle that don’t fit anywhere.” She brushed a hand across her eyes as tears of frustration threatened to well up in the corners. “Maybe I’m not the one to solve this thing.”

  As she tried to turn her face away from him, he gently brought it back, and lowering his head, brushed soft kisses on her moist eyelids.