by Marta Perry
The elevator stopped. He stepped out into the hallway. No one was at the nurses’ station at the end of the hall, so he turned toward the room, grown familiar by so many visits. Noah found himself walking quietly in response to the stillness of the area, thinking how oppressive silence could be in a place that was usually bustling.
Joanna was there, on the far side of the bed. Someone in hospital scrubs towered over her. For an instant he didn’t know what he was seeing. Then he knew. The man had his hands on Joanna’s throat.
Panic and fury surged through Noah, sending him flying toward them. He barreled into the figure, grappling for a hold to rip the man’s hands away from Joanna. He yanked one hand free and both of them crashed against the wall, rattling his teeth. The man got a hand free and knocked him back. His head hit the footboard of the bed and he saw stars.
Joanna—he had to get to Joanna. He shook his head, trying to shake away the mist before his eyes. Vaguely aware of the swish of the door, he stumbled toward Joanna, who lay on the floor, gasping for breath.
“Help,” she managed to whisper. “The call button...” She gestured toward the cord that dangled from the bed.
He grabbed it, pressed the button and then shouted for help, his voice echoing in the room. Joanna caught his arm, using it to pull herself to a sitting position.
“Wait, take it easy. Lie there until someone comes.”
But she was shaking her head before he finished. “Meredith.” Her voice rasped. “Pillow. He... I came in... Pillow on her face.” She struggled, trying to rise.
“It’s okay. You stay quiet.”
The pillow wasn’t on the bed. It had been tossed or fallen several feet away. He bent over the woman, murmuring a silent prayer. She was breathing. Thank the good Lord, she was breathing.
“I think she’s all right.” He grasped Joanna’s arm. If she was determined to get up, she would, with or without his help. “Really. There’s nothing you need to do.”
Running footsteps sounded in the hallway, and the door flew open, letting in a nurse and an aide, followed in a few seconds by a security guard.
“Call the police. Someone attacked Joanna and tried to hurt your patient.”
The nurse bent over her patient, rapping out quick orders to the aide to check on Joanna. The security guard was inclined to argue about the police, wanting to question Joanna himself, but when Noah reminded him that the chief was responsible for the woman, he scowled and turned to the phone.
Suddenly, there seemed to be nothing he needed to do. Noah leaned against Joanna’s chair, longing to put his arm around her. Was it a comfort to her to know that he was there? He felt better at being a touch away.
The aide checked Joanna’s neck, murmuring at the vivid red marks of the man’s fingers. At an order from the nurse, she rushed out to retrieve an ice pack.
“How is she?” Joanna whispered, nodding toward Meredith.
“She’s fine.” The nurse came around the bed to bend over Joanna. “Better than you, I’d say. Who did this?”
Joanna tried to shake her head but stopped, hand going to her neck as she winced. “I couldn’t tell.”
“A man,” Noah said. “Wearing hospital scrubs... A mask covered his face. I never got a good look at him.”
A couple of minutes later he was repeating the same thing to Chief Jamison, while one patrolman went off with the security guard to find out if anyone had seen the man leave, and the other began a minute search of the room.
“He had one of those white things over his hair. I never got a good look at him.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t anyone you knew? Think. You have to have seen more than hospital clothes and a mask.”
Easy enough to understand what had put the sharp edge to Jamison’s voice. He’d thought his problem had been resolved with the woman identified and her family ready to take charge of her. Now someone had thrown a monkey wrench into his neat solution, and he was inclined to blame anyone around.
“He was about my height, I think. Sorry, but that’s all I can say. It was over almost before it started.”
It occurred to him, belatedly, that although he hadn’t struck the man, he might well be considered guilty of breaking the church’s stand on nonviolence. Since he knew he’d do the same again, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. A glance at Joanna, leaning back in a chair with ice packs around her neck, assured him that saving her was worth any cost.
Seeing Jamison turn to Joanna, Noah wished he had something else to say, just so that he could give her a few minutes’ respite. But Joanna made the effort necessary to sit up, and her answers, delivered in a whisper, didn’t add much to what he’d said.
After a chat with the aide, she’d come in quietly and seen who she took to be a doctor at Meredith’s bedside. She’d almost retreated so as not to disturb him, but when he picked up the extra pillow from the bed and pressed it over Meredith’s face, she had rushed to her defense. To the chief’s disappointment, she couldn’t give any sort of description of the man, either.
“I would if I could. But like Noah said, he was all covered up.” Her voice rasped and she put a hand to her throat, wincing.
The need to protect her was stronger than any other consideration. “I think I should take Joanna home,” he said, before the chief could plunge into more questions. “She ought to be in her own bed with her aunt taking care of her.”
Jamison looked ready to snarl at him, but at that moment the aide pushed the door open. “There’s someone downstairs, asking for the patient, Chief Jamison. He says he’s her cousin.”
“Tell him to wait there. I’ll be with him in a few minutes.” He turned back to them. “All right, you take Joanna to her aunt. I’ll send Donovan along with her buggy. He knows horses. Meanwhile, I’ll deal with this cousin. If you think of anything—the slightest hint—that might help identify him, you call me immediately.” His scowl would be enough to cow anyone who dared to argue. “I’m putting a guard on this room, and nobody is getting in unless I say so.”
There seemed nothing else for them to do. He helped Joanna rise, cherishing the way her hand clung to his arm. Carrying the extra ice bags the nurse forced on her, he led her away.
* * *
JOANNA MOVED RESTLESSLY, trying to block out the light that intruded on her sleep, but it was no use. She forced her eyes open, tried to sit up and barely suppressed a groan. A light touch informed her that her neck was even more painful than it had been the night before. Still, she couldn’t stay in bed. Too many jobs loomed ahead of her.
Slowly and cautiously, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor, feeling the familiar braided rug under her toes. She was back in her own bed, in her own room. She was safe. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to get her thoughts into some sort of order. Noah had brought her home, saying little as if knowing how hard it was for her to speak, and delivered her to Aunt Jessie with one last comforting clasp of her hand.
Jessie had fussed and scolded, of course, but her hands had been gentle as she’d tended to Joanna, comforting her with a cup of tea with honey to soothe her throat and tucking her in bed with the ice packs arranged on her neck. Neither of them had mentioned sending for her parents.
She’d never thought she’d sleep with the memories of hands closing around her neck. But there had been comfort, too, remembering Noah’s arm protectively around her when he drove her home. The comfort of his embrace stayed with her after he’d left, and she’d fallen asleep at last.
Forcing herself to her feet, she’d taken one step when the door opened, and Aunt Jessie surged in.
“You’re up,” she said. “I’d hoped you’d still be sleeping. You need your rest, but that Jamison is downstairs, and he says he has to see you. I told him to come back later, but he wouldn’t.”
It sounded as if Aunt Jessie was building up a strong resentment against
Chief Jamison. Joanna tried to sound better than she felt.
“It’s all right. Just tell him I’ll come down when I’m dressed.” She reached for the dress that hung from a hook on the wall and winced.
“I’ll get your clothes ready for you.” Aunt Jessie bustled around the room, arranging Joanna’s clothes on the bed and keeping up a string of annoyed comments.
“You’d best go back and speak to the chief before he loses patience and comes up here. Then I’m fixing something soft for you to eat. Cream of wheat will slide down easily, so don’t bother to argue.”
Joanna gently turned her toward the door. “I’m all right. It’s just my voice.” She could hardly disguise the raspy whisper that was all she could manage.
Aunt Jessie gave her an assessing look and nodded. “Better wear a sweater,” she said, and stalked out, clearly disapproving of Chief Jamison and all his doings.
Dressing as quickly as she could, Joanna moved to the mirror to pin up her hair and blinked at the sight. The red marks on her neck had darkened into livid bruises. A plain dress wouldn’t hide them. Jessie had been right about the sweater. She pulled it on, arranging the sweater’s neck to cover as much as possible, and stood back to look at the result.
Not good, but the best she could do. And now she’d best go and rescue Chief Jamison from Aunt Jessie.
She found them silent but glaring at each other, and she could only be relieved no one was in the shop this early. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“My fault.” Jamison met her at the bottom of the stairs. “I’d have waited until later, but Ms. Bristow’s cousin was on my doorstep at dawn, insisting on seeing her.”
“I thought you wanted him to see her, so he could confirm her identity.”
Jamison’s face hardened. “After what happened, I’m not letting anyone see her until I’m sure they’re okay. That’s why I need you. Come on.”
“But what—” she began, but Jessie charged into battle.
“Look at her. Poor child hasn’t even had her breakfast yet and you want to drag her off. It’s ridiculous. What are you thinking?”
“Aunt Jessie, it’s all right. But I don’t know what you think I can do. I’ve never met the man.”
If possible, Chief Jamison’s ruddy face got even darker. “Sorry. I’d just like to get this cleared up. You go ahead and eat something. I’ll wait.”
Knowing perfectly well she couldn’t choke down any food with the chief waiting for her, she shook her head. “I couldn’t get anything down now. Later, I’ll try.” This last was addressed to her aunt, who nodded but sniffed in an unbelieving way.
“Good. I mean, well, this won’t take long. I just want you to see the man before I let him in. He could be the man who attacked Ms. Bristow.”
She was about to say that she couldn’t recognize him, but that would just encourage Aunt Jessie to argue, so she followed Jamison out to the car.
By the time they reached the hospital, Joanna felt as if she’d been up for forty-eight hours, and every separate muscle in her body ached. But she’d agreed to look at the man, and Jamison probably wouldn’t allow her to change her mind. He led her directly to a small room off the hospital lobby where he said Landon Bristow was waiting for him.
She went in a little hesitantly, hoping the chief didn’t intend to call any attention to her. A man stood by the window, talking on his cell phone. He glanced at them while continuing to talk, giving Joanna time to assess him against her slight memory from the previous night.
Well dressed, that was her first thought. In a country town where men didn’t wear a coat and tie except for weddings and funerals, he was overdressed. Not young, somewhere in his fifties, probably, and he had an air of expecting and getting the best of anything.
“All right, just come in the lobby. The first door on the left. I see the police officer has just arrived. Maybe we can finally get something done.”
He slid the phone into his pocket as he came toward them. “The family’s attorney. He came along to help get things settled.”
“Fine.” Jamison didn’t seem intimidated, if that was intended. “The more, the merrier. I just want to get the patient identified.”
“Then you should have shown her to me instead of keeping me waiting here.”
Joanna expected him to add that he was a busy man, but he restrained himself. Shown her to me. Joanna repeated the words silently, her initial impression of the man worsening. As if Meredith were a lost item. She must have some relatives who actually cared about her.
Whether the chief would have responded she didn’t find out, because the door opened to reveal the man he’d said was the family’s lawyer. He came in unobtrusively, nodding to them. Assuming that the chief would want her opinion of him, as well, she tried to form one, but found it impossible. Average height, average weight, average face of the sort one would soon forget. He did have a pleasant smile, though, as Chief Jamison introduced himself.
“Tom Watson,” he said, shaking hands with him. “I hope you have good news about Meredith. Everyone has been worried.”
There was the concern she expected from Bristow, and she couldn’t help smiling as he looked at her.
“This is Joanna Kohler, the one who found Ms. Bristow and called the paramedics.” The chief introduced her quickly. “Ms. Bristow seems to respond more to her than anyone else, so I thought it would be useful to have her there when you see her.”
The attorney’s expression grew warmer. “I’m sure we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“I was glad to do what I could,” she said, feeling her face flush at his words.
“If we can get on with this now,” Bristow said. “I’d like to be sure it really is my cousin, so we can make arrangements about having her transferred to a hospital near her home. And then I have to get back to the office before the day is over.”
Chief Jamison looked at Joanna, clearly waiting for her opinion. She gave a slight shrug. It was impossible. Her only sense of the man who’d attacked her was of someone overpowering her. It could have been either of them or someone entirely different. The thought sent a shiver of apprehension through her. She was perfectly safe with Jamison there, she reminded herself.
Grasping her meaning, he opened the door. “Let’s go up.” He led the way to the elevator, the others following.
Joanna began to feel more and more out of place as they approached the room, but the chief didn’t give her any opportunity to retire. He ushered her inside. Bristow followed, but Mr. Watson held back.
“I’m sure you don’t want a crowd of people in there. I’ll wait here unless I’m needed.”
Jamison nodded, ushering her over to the bed where Meredith lay, eyes closed. “See if you can get her to wake up, all right?”
“I’ll try.” She took the chair next to the bed. “Meredith, it’s time to wake up. It’s Joanna, and I’ve come to see you.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“That’s right. Wake up now.” She sensed the men moving closer.
Meredith opened her eyes, seeming to focus on Joanna’s face. Her lips curved slightly and then moved. “Joanna,” she said softly.
“That’s right. Here’s someone else to see you.” She gestured toward Bristow, but Meredith didn’t turn her head.
“If you look over that way...” she began, but Bristow interrupted her.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I confirm that this woman is Meredith Bristow. Now, if I can arrange to have her moved, I’ll be on my way.”
Jamison’s expression was often hard to decipher, but at that moment Joanna had no difficulty. He looked as annoyed with the man as Joanna felt.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible yet,” he said. “The doctors don’t want her moved right now, and I can’t let her go until the investigation has been wrapped up.”
Brist
ow’s face reddened. “Do you expect me to hang around here for days? Let’s see what my attorney thinks about that.” He charged out of the room. Jamison shrugged and followed him.
Attorney or not, she didn’t think he’d succeed in moving Meredith until Chief Jamison decided he could. There was no reason why that should make Joanna happier, but it did. As long as Meredith was here, there was a chance of finding out why she had come to Joanna and what she might have to do with the secret of her adoption.
CHAPTER TEN
JOANNA HAD STAYED on in the room when Chief Jamison had taken the other men away. She’d enjoyed the quiet, and Meredith seemed to like having her there. Once Meredith had been propped up to sitting position, she’d seemed much more alert. She’d even tried to brush her long hair until Joanna offered to do it for her.
Sitting next to her on the bed, Joanna had eased the hairbrush through the strands of deep coppery hair that curled around the brush. She’d often thought how much fun it would have been to have a younger sister to do just this for. Of course, if she had, the exercise would have ended in braiding the hair and twisting it up into a snug knot to fit under a kapp. Not for Meredith, clearly.
When the nurse had chased her away at last, she’d gotten all the way downstairs when she realized that she didn’t know where she was going. Joanna hesitated in the lobby, wondering if she should ask at the desk for Chief Jamison. But they probably had no idea where he was.
She’d been left behind, and it was hardly surprising that Chief Jamison should forget, given the number of problems on his mind. It wasn’t far, so she could walk back to the shop.
By the time she’d reached the parking lot outside, Joanna knew that wasn’t going to work. The fatigue that had receded in the past hour had surged back, stronger than before. She could almost sit down on the pavement and weep.
Like the answer to a prayer, a buggy pulled up in front of her. It was Noah, coming quickly around to help her into the seat.
