Her eyes widened. “That’s not possible. Any doctor who looks at your hands will say the same.”
I gritted my teeth. “Just please do it, Connie.” She punched in the number, hit speaker and set the phone on the table.
Marta picked up immediately. “Britt, I’m so sorry about your hands.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”
Connie’s tsk was audible from across the room.
Marta said, “Just listen for a minute, Britt. I have to tell you something you won’t want to hear. Gonzales is already on a flight to South Sudan. We couldn’t wait, especially not knowing how long it would be before you healed.”
“This is payback from before, isn’t it? You’ll never trust me again. I promise I’ll be fine in a few days.”
“I’ve talked to your doctor. You have weeks of therapy ahead to even get movement back in your fingers. Don’t worry, there will be other projects. Take care of yourself.”
“Dr. Fromm doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I never miss an assignment. You know I have to prove to management that I’m reliable. I can do it Marta. Please.”
“I have to go, Britt. We’ll talk when you’re more rational.”
I yelled at the phone. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re selling me out. Firing me last year wasn’t enough? Now you’re taking this away from me, making me look bad? You’re a shit, Marta, a shit.”
“I’m sorry. We’ll talk next week.”
“Don’t hang up!” The line went dead.
Connie turned off the phone and set it back on the table next to me. Looking at me as if I were some pitiful mental case, she adjusted something in the IV, nodded at someone in the corner, and left.
Chapter 26
I followed Connie’s gaze. Partially in shadow, Little’s downcast eyes meant he was ashamed of me. He came over to the bed. “Ben said you were acting like a jerk. Do you want to talk about it?”
The IV sedative took the edge off. My head flopped back against the pillow, the anger disappearing as swiftly as it had taken me over. I’d wanted it all at the same time—to find the person trying to harm my brother and Lars, cover the Sudan story, and Ben too, and when I couldn’t have it all, I lashed out like a two-year-old.
“I didn’t mean what I said.” I wanted to take back every insulting word I’d said to Ben, Marta, Dr. Fromm and Connie.
“I’d better get back to the restaurant.” He pointed to an insulated bag. “Another smoothie for when you get hungry.” He hesitated on his way out. “I do understand why you’re acting this way. You’ve worked so hard to get your life back together after the drinking and now you think your job’s being taken away again. But we’re part of your life too, and we’ll never abandon you.” The door closed behind him.
I watched him leave with a heaviness inside that hurt worse than any of my injuries. Little had always looked up to me and I’d blown it last year with my drinking and unpredictable behavior. I’d tried to make it up to him and now I’d disappointed him again.
When I woke, Edgar was sitting in a chair under the window, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, snoring. I scooted into a seated position and the bed squeaked. His eyes opened.
“Hi, Edgar.”
He sniffed. “They say you’ve been kicking butt and taking names.”
My chin dropped to my chest and I mumbled. “More like making an ass of myself. Pushing away everyone who cares about me.”
He nodded. “That too.”
I leaned forward. “I photograph war and poverty—and the women and children who are forced to live in depraved conditions—working toward social justice, and in the meantime I hurt the people close to me. What’s wrong with me?”
“Forces can be at work within you that you aren’t aware of. One day you’ll catch up to yourself.”
I lifted my bandaged hands. “I won’t be catching myself for a while.”
“Good joke. Ha, ha. His arthritic hands felt for his cane, and he stood. “Henry’s on his way.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
He turned at the door. “They let those Willards go now that you caught the killer.”
I nodded. “They should be locked up; they’re bad people.”
His head bobbed. “Now that you have all this time on your hands, you can figure out what they’re up to.”
Did he really just make a joke about my hands?
The door opened and Henry came in. “Hey, Britt, how’re you doing?”
“I think my karma’s caught up to me.”
Henry crossed the room and put a hand on my shoulder. “You did a good thing. Sorry I can’t stay and talk. The casino’s really busy today.” He took Edgar’s elbow. “Ready to go, Grandfather?”
Thinking it must be that vision thing he did, I asked, “Edgar, how did you know Henry was here?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “It buzzed.”
Henry’s eyes disappeared behind his cheeks. “It’s our signal when we don’t have a fire and blanket.”
I smiled but it didn’t last. I’d insulted the people who were trying to heal me, probably lost Ben, my job and my dear friend. I’d never again enter the L.A. Times building lobby, walk past the old telephone booth, the row of clocks or the hallway lined with Times Pulitzers, mine among them. If I kept this up, no one would ever love me, not even Little.
In the morning, Dr. Fromm introduced me to Dr. Hillary Oliver, a burn specialist from the Mayo Clinic. “I’ve asked her to examine your hands.” His voice was chilly. “You can certainly be transferred to Dr. Oliver’s care. Let me know and I’ll make the arrangements.”
Shame made it hard to speak. “Thank you, Doctor, but there’s no need. I was out of my mind yesterday.”
“I insist.” Dr. Fromm signaled to Connie. She unwound the bandages and stepped back. Dr. Oliver’s gray head bent forward and she began her examination. She nodded at Dr. Fromm. “I see you’ve done some nice repair where the plastic ties melted into the flesh.”
My stomach flipped. That was new information. I looked at Connie but she turned away.
When Dr. Oliver finished, she said she wouldn’t have done anything differently and named the same timeline for recovery. I thanked her and forced myself to look at Connie and Dr. Fromm. “I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. You’re great at your jobs and if you’ll still have me here, I’ll do whatever you ask. I won’t be any trouble.”
They exchanged one of their telepathic glances and Dr. Fromm nodded. Professional and detached, Dr. Oliver said, “Well, then, Britt, if you don’t have any questions, I’ll be on my way.”
I swallowed. “What about scars?”
She said, “You might not have much scarring, but there will likely be some discoloration of the skin in some areas.”
If that was the worst, I’d take it. The doctors left and Connie finished re-bandaging.
“Thank you, Connie. I’m lucky you’re taking care of me.” I’d have to stop calling her Nurse Cranky behind her back. Her bedside manner wasn’t the best, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore.
The edges of her mouth tipped up. I slept again and woke up thinking about Edgar’s comment yesterday about the Willards. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Evil wasn’t a word I used often, but whenever I’d been near that family, a chill settled over me. The reason I couldn’t see past them couldn’t be all stubbornness on my part. We must have missed something. I needed to talk to Jason. Something he mentioned last week needed a follow-up.
I was spared asking one of the orderlies or nurses to help me call him when he and Thor came in mid-morning. I said, “Just the people I wanted to see.”
Thor must have dressed in whatever was left on her apartment floor. “We wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Jason opened his laptop. “If you’re up to it, Cynthia needs info for the StarTrib. She sends her best.”
I pointed. “My camera’s in
the drawer.”
Jason plugged the camera into his laptop and with a few deft strokes from his normal healthy fingers, sent my photos to the bureau. As I told him the details about Peder and our encounter, he tapped it out on the laptop. Thor twiddled with her multiple piercings until Jason finished and packed up to leave.
“Jason, I know you’re itching to get back to the bureau to work on the article but can you wait a second?”
“Sure, what do you need?” He and Thor sat in chairs under the window.
“Before all this happened, I asked you to check on other crimes in Iona Township, not just hate crimes. Have you had a chance to do that?”
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I found out that even though hate crimes are down, they’ve had an upsurge of missing persons in the past three months.”
“How much of an upsurge?”
“More in the past three months than in the past three years.”
I bolted upright. “Were you able to find out any details about the missing people?”
“All I got from the data was that some were men and some women, all different families. One was a child, but that turned out to be a guy abducting his own kid from the ex-wife.”
“Do you think you could contact the families of the missing people and try to find out if there’s anything that connects them?”
He crossed one leg over the other, frowning at the new wrinkle in his khakis. “I’m kind of busy with this Nazi story.”
Thor glared at him.
His head bobbed up and down. “But sure, I’ll see what I can find out and call you.”
I lifted my puffy hands. “I can’t pick up the phone.”
Thor narrowed her eyes at Jason. “We’ll bring it over.”
He nodded. “Ready to go, Thor?”
She said, “You go ahead. I want to talk to Britt a minute.” He ducked his head like an awkward teenager and backed away.
When he’d gone, Thor leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The BCA is helping us now and they’ve already gotten the results on that hairbrush. There’s a match with Charley and you, but information that can be obtained from a strand of hair without the follicles attached is limited. The hair in his brush had the follicles, but the baby's hair didn’t. Sorry. Oh, and the oar was from Peder/Fredrik’s boat.”
“Did you find out what poison he used in the candy?”
She nodded. “He made a liquid out of rhododendron plants. The whole plant is poisonous. Then he injected the serum into the bottom of each piece. The bitter dark chocolate masked the taste.” She made a face. “The sheriff said Peder was really pleased with his creative touch and hoped Wilcox would tell you it was rhododendron poisoning.”
I involuntarily shuddered. Locking me in my bathroom, taking Rock and Knute, the raccoon head in my camera bag, the rhododendron poison, all conceived to tease and impress me, just as Edgar had said.
She stood up. “There’s something else.” The words rushed out. “I’ve enrolled at the University of Minnesota to finish my degree. I’m starting in the fall.”
“That’s great, Thor. I know you’ve wanted to.” Not sure if I should be getting into the details but she brought it up, I said, “Jason must be taking it pretty hard.”
She twisted an earring. “I haven’t told him yet.” Her shoulders slumped and she left shortly after.
Thor probably wouldn’t come back to Branson. She was ambitious and the recent excitement had likely whetted her appetite for more challenges. For the most part, homicides here generally involved drunk driving. I ached for Jason, but nothing stayed the same. The bureau might not even be here in six months. I hoped they’d figure it out.
The time dragged. Waiting for Jason to get back to me was torture. I wanted to be working on the story, not lying in my hospital bed trying to ignore the throbbing where Peder whacked my skull. Every move aggravated the scrapes and muscle aches. But mostly, I tried not to think about my hands.
When Violet arrived mid-day with a satchel full of the tools of her trade, I almost jumped out of my bed to hug her.
“Mother said she heard you look a fright.” Violet’s cheeks turned a shade pinker than her blush. “I meant that some of your hair was singed off and with those burned hands you might need help freshening up.”
Wearing her judgmental frown, Connie followed Violet into my room and let her have it through pursed lips. “Britt has a head injury. Come back another time.”
Violet swooshed past Connie and plunked her bag at the foot of my bed. “I’ll be careful. I’m a professional.”
A voice came over the intercom. Dr. Fromm needed Connie in room 103. The doctor’s summons trumped everything and she hurried out the door.
Violet pulled a spray can out of her bag. “It’s instant shampoo. You spray it in and brush it out and your hair is magically clean and smells good again.”
I slid out of bed and used my foot to push the IV rack next to a chair. Violet pulled a round mirror out of her bag and held it to my face. Some of my hair was plastered to my head and the rest stuck out in burnt and frizzy nests. I waved the mirror away.
She snapped open a cape and draped it around my neck. “I’m just going to even it out.” She trimmed off three inches and when she was finished, a crispy mess littered the floor. I must have looked alarmed. Violet said, “You still have lots left and the layered style is great on you.”
She sprayed her special shampoo, brushed and styled my hair, and then produced a whisk and dustpan from her tote bag. “You are so lucky. That could have....”
I held up a gauze-encased hand. “Thanks, I get the picture.”
She grimaced, then reached into her bag again. “Want me to add a touch of makeup?” She winked. “In case Ben drops by.”
I nodded, although Ben had been absent since my meltdown. First, I’d blindsided him with Sudan and then insulted him for not having my best interest in mind when the doctor said I couldn’t leave. Ben always had my best interest at heart. I didn’t deserve him. A stab of self-pity made me wince.
Violet finished and held the mirror to my face. My hair did look much better, my face less pale. I said, “You’re Wonder Woman. Thank you.” Last year when I’d been chasing a bad guy and ended up in Branson Hospital, Violet came that time, too. I choked up.
“Oh now, don’t do that. You’ll get all red and splotchy and undo all my work.”
“This is getting to be a routine. I’ll triple-pay you for the hospital visit.”
“Don’t be silly. After what you did to get that awful man who hurt Lars and killed Charley? It’s our way of doing our part.”
Violet packed her bag, checked me over one more time and left the room with a satisfied smile.
It wasn’t easy getting back into the high bed while keeping my hospital gown from exposing too much and accidentally mooning someone coming into the room. It’s crazy how many things we do with our hands. I’d have to ask Little to bring my pajamas.
I watched the door all day, but Ben didn’t show up.
Jason bounced in before breakfast the following morning, eyes bugged out with a caffeinated buzz. “You’re so right. Data doesn’t always tell you everything. I had to track down the families of the missing and ask a lot of questions.”
“And?”
“Three gay men and two middle-aged gay women who lived together vanished. Family members and police concluded they left town because their families didn’t approve of their lifestyle. In fact, the Iona police didn’t see any type of foul play so they didn’t do more than a quick investigation.”
“Great work, Jason. Now you need to talk to the sheriff and tell him I have an idea about where those missing people might be.”
Wilcox stood in the door and cleared his throat, waking me from a drug doze. I blinked myself awake. Ben was there too. I wanted to apologize to him but not with an audience.
The sheriff stood at the foot of the bed. “Jason’s been over at the office talking about missing people in Iona. This better be
good. I’m wrapping up the Peder case.”
My mouth was too dry to talk. “Sheriff, could you hand me that water?” He passed it to me and I pulled my knees up, glad Little had brought my pajamas. “Just prop it up there.” With my knees clamped around the water jug, I sipped from the straw and told them my theory on the Willards.
Wilcox crossed his arms. “You’re guessing. I already had to apologize over the dogs.”
“Just get a warrant. I’ll go out there and get them to admit what they’re doing, and you can be ready with backup.”
Ben stepped closer. “They’ll probably shoot you this time.” He leaned in and I got excited, but he took the water from my knees, set it on the stand and moved away.
I said, “They won’t. They don’t want anything to cause suspicion.”
Wilcox said, “My understanding is that you’re not leaving this hospital for a week.”
I shot straight up in bed. “That’s negotiable.”
Ben and Wilcox exchanged looks.
We talked it over and in the end they both agreed and we came up with a plan. All I had to do was get Fromm to spring me. Wilcox had to have the last word. “You’re assuming I can get a warrant with no evidence.”
***
He got the warrant the next morning. Dr. Fromm released me on the condition that someone bring me in daily for bandage changes and visits to the occupational therapist, and that I continue with bed rest for another week. I would have promised anything to get out of the hospital.
Ben had picked up clothes for me and told Little I’d be in Spirit Lake by noon. My part of the plan should take less than half an hour. He set the bag on my bed.
I looked up at him. “I’m sorry for what I said, Ben. You know I didn’t mean it.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. “I know.”
I held up my immobile hands. “Could you help me get dressed?”
He hesitated, then opened the bag and took out my jeans. I leaned on him for balance as he pulled on one pant leg and then the other, tugged them over my hips and zipped me up. He reached in the bag for my bra, bit his lip and put it on me, concentrating hard on the hooks. Then he pulled my tank top over my head and torso before stepping back. He’d managed all that as if no one was inside my skin dying for his touch to linger just a moment. My cheeks on fire, I whispered, “Ben.”
Close Up on Murder Page 25
