Hope's Path

by Carrie Carr

  Charlie and Frank both jumped to their feet as she came into the room. The sheriff said, "Martha took her to get cleaned up and dressed. Is something wrong?" He felt a knot of apprehension build in his stomach.

  "Not with Mandy. Although they said that the next twelve hours are crucial. We need to find out exactly where they were today. Mandy has been poisoned." Anna Leigh looked around the room. "While we were in there with the doctor, a nurse came in with the most alarming information."

  Charlie immediately changed from concerned family member to sheriff. "Are you saying that someone else was poisoned too?"

  Anna Leigh nodded. "That's what the doctor told us. And now he wants to talk to Lexington to find out where they were today."

  "Oh, Lord," he said. "I'd better make some phone calls."

  The door opened and Lex walked through. She was wearing her usual denim shirt and jeans, and a pair of comfortable-looking boots. Martha had also braided her hair in one plait, and it dropped casually down her back. She was followed by Martha, who looked quite upset. "Lexie, please calm down. I'm sure that Charlie can get to the bottom of this in no time." Martha looked up and saw Anna Leigh approaching. "Has there been any word?"

  "Not yet. But the doctor has gone back in to check on Mandy now." Anna Leigh crossed over to Lex and gently touched her arm. "What's wrong, Lexington?"

  Lex had to stop herself before she shook off the light touch. "It's bad enough that they won't tell me what the hell is going on, but now there's a couple of policemen who want to talk to me about Amanda." She looked over at Charlie with tears of frustration in her eyes. As much as she hated asking for help, the lawman's presence would be a great comfort. "Can you go with me, Uncle Charlie? I could really use the moral support."

  "That's a good idea. I need to talk to them anyway." The lawman wrapped an arm around Lex's shoulders. How can anyone so strong suddenly look so frail? Poor Lex. She looks as if she's about to collapse. "Come on. Let's go see what they want." He nodded at Martha, who returned the look. They'd better be easy on her. I don't think she can handle much more right now. Although I'd feel better if she had a lawyer with her, not just me.

  "Do you want me to go with you?" Martha asked.

  Lex looked at the housekeeper with a sad look. If for some reason they arrest me, I don't want her to witness that. It would just about kill her. "Would it be okay if just Charlie went with me?"

  "That'll be fine, Lexie. I'll just wait here with Anna Leigh, okay?" The housekeeper patted Lex on the back as they walked by. "If you need me, just holler."

  AFTER A SHORT foray down the corridor, Lex and Charlie walked into a small room and looked around. The doctor's consultation room was furnished with a cheap formica-topped desk and several uncomfortable looking chairs. Two plainclothes detectives stood. The older one was a tall blonde with a crew cut. The shorter, stockier of the two had loosened his tie, and his dark hair was damp with perspiration. Both looked uncomfortable in their dark suits.

  The shorter of the two men came forward and offered his hand. "I'm Detective Weingart, and this is Sergeant Byers." He motioned to the taller man. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us, Ms. Walters. This is not an interrogation. But if you'd feel more comfortable with a lawyer present, we can wait." At the negative shake of her head, he continued. "We know what a trying time this is for you since your friend is so ill. Please, have a seat, and we'll try to make this as quick as possible." The detective looked speculatively at Charlie, who was still wearing his sheriff's uniform. Suppressing a sigh, he offered his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met."

  Charlie moved forward and shook the man's hand. "I'm Sheriff Bristol from Somerville." He gently guided Lex to a nearby chair. "I hope you don't mind if I sit in." Although I'm not about to leave. I don't like the way the short guy is looking at Lex. He's going to be trouble, I'll bet.

  The sergeant reached over and shook Charlie's hand also. "Not at all. We were just hoping that Ms. Walters could help us figure out how Miss Cauble was poisoned."

  "Poisoned?" Lex gasped, missing the edge of the chair and falling to the floor. She scrambled to her feet, not even noticing how much Charlie helped her up and into the chair, then moved to the side. Lex was completely disoriented. "Did you say that Amanda has been poisoned? How in the hell did that happen?"

  "That's what we'd like to know. Was she with you at all times today?" the blond man with the crew-cut asked. "Did she come into contact with any strangers or suspicious persons?" He consulted an open folder lying on the desk.

  "We were together all day today. I promised to take Amanda Christmas shopping at the mall, and we spent the entire day there. We never left each other's side." Lex frowned in deep thought.

  "Wait. I did leave her at the atrium while I went to get us something to drink, but she really wasn't out of my sight."

  The sergeant wrote furiously in the folder while the detective circled the desk and sat on the corner closest to Lex. "You both had something to drink at the mall?" He looked down at the upset woman. "How do you explain that Miss Cauble became ill, while you appear to be in good health?"

  Charlie got between the detective and Lex. "I don't think I like your insinuation, Detective. Just what is it you're trying to say?"

  "We're not insinuating anything, Sheriff. We're just trying to find out how Miss Cauble could have been exposed to the poison." Detective Weingart stood firm obviously not appreciating the attitude of the older man or this woman.

  Lex stood and put a reassuring hand on Charlie's shoulder. "It's all right. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as they do." She guided the sheriff into the chair she vacated and stood over the still-seated detective. "We ate the same foods, drank the same drinks--" She stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Damn."

  Sergeant Byers looked up from taking notes. "What is it, Ms. Walters?"

  "I'm not sure, it may be nothing, but--" Lex's brows creased in thought.

  Detective Weingart crossed his arms across his chest. "Why don't you let us be the judges of what's relevant, and what isn't. Just spit it out."

  Lex ignored him and spoke directly to the sergeant. "I bought a couple of drinks from this little stand in the mall. There was this obnoxious teenaged boy behind me, pushing people around, and just being a general nuisance. When I turned back around from getting lids for our drinks, he had disappeared."

  "And you expect us to believe that a teenage boy is responsible for something as devious and well-planned as this poisoning obviously was? How was he supposed to know which drink belonged to which person?" The detective snorted in disgust. Save me from amateurs.

  "I don't know. But that's the only . . ." Lex paused in mid-sentence. "Wait. I forgot. I didn't drink mine."

  Detective Weingart pointed an accusing finger at Lex. "So you admit that you didn't have the same drink. Did you have a lover's quarrel or what?"

  "If you'll just shut your damned mouth for half a second, I'll finish telling you." Lex glared at the pudgy man. When he leaned back a bit and nodded, she continued. "Amanda was talking to an elderly lady when I got back to the atrium benches. I gave Amanda one of the drinks and offered mine to the other woman because she looked as if she needed it."

  The two policemen looked at each other in silent communication. "That certainly explains a few things," the tall man murmured to his partner.

  "Explains what?" Irritated, Charlie stood again. "Are you about through giving Lex the third degree? I don't appreciate you treating her as if she was some sort of criminal." He quieted when Lex put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, but I can't stand by and watch them treat you like this."

  Lex smiled at him. "I really appreciate your concern, Uncle Charlie, but these guys are just doing their job." Although, "chubby" over there is beginning to get on my nerves. I hope they're not trying to play good-cop, bad-cop. She bit back a wry smile at that thought. Too many reruns of Miami Vice, I'll bet. She looked back at the officers and posed Charlie's question again. "What exac
tly does this explain?"

  Detective Weingart looked over at his sergeant, who shrugged. "We received a report from Somerville Community Hospital some time ago. An elderly woman was admitted earlier this evening with the same symptoms as Miss Cauble."

  "Elderly woman? Oh, God." Lex paled and sat back down in her chair. "How is she?"

  "She passed away about three hours ago," Sergeant Byers said sympathetically.

  Lex closed her eyes and slumped in her chair. "She's dead because of me." Charlie's comforting hand on her shoulder almost did her in. "What about Amanda? Do you know if she--" I couldn't survive if I lost Amanda. God.

  "Mrs. Carruthers had a history of heart problems. Her family said that she had been complaining of chest pains for the past week or so. We're fairly certain that the poison just sped up the inevitable," the sergeant explained. "I know that this must be tremendously difficult, ma'am. Just as an added precaution, we've assigned an officer to Miss Cauble's room. We don't want whoever slipped the poison to her to try and finish the job. We're relatively confident that that's not going to happen, but better safe than sorry."

  "I don't think Amanda was the target, gentlemen." Charlie squeezed Lex on the shoulder again. "Why don't we let Lex go back to the waiting room, and I'll be more than happy to brief you on the events preceding today. It's a rather long and complicated story."

  The burly detective had been sitting off to the side, arms crossed on his chest, with a disbelieving look on his face. Now he spoke up. "I don't know. I think that I'd like Ms. Walters to come down to the station for further questioning. I want to make sure that we have all the details correct." He practically glared at the seated woman.

  Lex stood and challenged the red-faced policeman with a defiant look in her eyes. "Then you're going to have to arrest me, Detective, because I'm not leaving this hospital any other way. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go check on my partner." She turned and stalked from the room.

  The stocky detective jumped to his feet and started for the door. "She wants to be arrested, I'll be more than happy to oblige her."

  "Hold it, Barry. Let her go," Sergeant Byers ordered. "I'm sure that Sheriff Bristol can answer any questions we may have." When Charlie nodded, he motioned for the detective to sit back down. "Now why don't you start at the beginning, Sheriff?"

  MARK GARRETT SAT in a hotel room about four blocks away from Parkdale General. He had been parked outside the Cauble's home earlier to see if his plan had worked, but had been horrified to see Lex carry an unconscious Amanda to the Suburban. Now he was ascertaining the need for damage control. He picked up phone and called the hospital. "Hello. I would like to check on the condition of a patient that you have there."

  "Yes, sir. And what is the name of the patient you are inquiring about?" the receptionist asked pleasantly.

  "Amanda Cauble." Mark crossed his fingers. Please let her be okay. I'll be in so much trouble, otherwise. Stupid teenager. Can't depend on anyone to do anything right.

  The nurse paused for a moment. "Umm, let me check. Will you hold for a moment, please?" Loud classical music played on the line as she put him on hold.

  Mark quickly slammed the phone down. "Dammit." He jumped up from the edge of the bed and paced the small room. They must have figured out what happened. That stupid kid was supposed to drug both cups, then make sure that Amanda didn't drink hers. He checked his watch and sighed. Midnight in Los Angeles. Damn. I really do not want to make this phone call. With slumped shoulders, Mark sat back down on the bed and dialed a number from memory. After several rings it was finally picked up.

  "Yes?" A slightly breathless voice answered.

  "It's me." Mark knew that no other identification was necessary.

  "Where in the hell have you been? I've been waiting by this phone for hours," the voice berated. "I called your hotel last night, and they said that you had already checked out. What's going on down there?"

  The weary man wiped a hand over his face. "Everything kind of fell apart. I had to go into hiding."

  The person on the other end of the phone sighed heavily. "It has to do with that jackass you hired, doesn't it? I knew that he was too stupid to be trusted."

  "Well, that's part of it." Mark leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. This is not going to be fun. "He attacked Walters in her barn yesterday morning."

  "You've got to be kidding me." Shocked, the speaker paused to reflect, then continued. "Well, was he able to do any damage? That would at least be some consolation."

  Mark sighed. "Not exactly. She pretty much kicked his ass all over the place, even though she was still recuperating from his last mistake." He took a deep breath. "And, to top it all off, the sheriff is actually engaged to her housekeeper--so he had spent the night there at the ranch. Sterling never had a chance. He got hustled off to jail in a hurry."

  There was another thoughtful silence on the phone. "This just keeps getting better and better." The sarcasm fairly dripped from the voice. "Thank God the idiot doesn't know much." A slight pause. "He doesn't know who I am, does he?"

  "No. Of course not," Mark assured his boss. "That little voice-altering device not only made the voice indistinguishable, but scared the hell out of him. But, I have more bad news." He braced himself for the outburst that was sure to come. "I wanted to surprise you by getting Walters out of the picture, but things didn't go quite as I had planned."

  The voice turned icy. "What did you do?"

  He tried to soften the news. "It really was a great plan. Even if it didn't succeed, her reputation would be in question." It would have looked like she overdosed on drugs. My plan was practically foolproof.

  "What. Did. You. Do?" Each word was bitten off sharply as the question was drawn out angrily.

  "I paid this punk kid fifty dollars cash to dump some drugs in her drink--he was supposed to put it in both cups and then whiz by on his skateboard to knock Amanda's out of her hand."

  "Dear God. You don't mean that--" Pain colored the voice. "Is she all right?"

  Mark sat up again. "She's alive. But Walters gave her drink to some old lady, and it killed her."

  "You almost killed her? You stupid fool. Where is Amanda right now?"

  "She's at Parkdale General Hospital. The last I heard, they had her in intensive care. But I can't call for any information. I think the cops know that she was poisoned, and are screening all incoming calls." Mark twirled the phone cord around his finger. "What do you want me to do?"

  Silence.

  "You still there?" he questioned cautiously.

  "Yes, I'm here. Shut up for a minute while I think. I suppose this should teach me never to use amateurs instead of professionals when I want something done."

  The exhausted man sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for a brilliant resolution for his problem. "Do you want me to--"

  "No. You've done quite enough already. Just sit there quietly while I try to think. Wait. My other line is flashing. Hold on a minute." A quiet click, and there was silence on the line.

  Mark sat patiently. Other scenarios kept running through his mind. I don't know where everything went so wrong. If I weren't so afraid of going to prison, I'd shoot the Walters bitch at point blank range.

  "I'm back." The voice sounded tired and upset. "That was my obligatory phone call notifying me of Amanda's condition. About time they called me, don't you think?"

  "Maybe they were just waiting until they had something to report. How is she?" Mark really didn't care too much about her condition. He was more worried about what would happen to him if she died.

  A slight silence, then a heavy sigh. "She's still in intensive care. The doctor said it would be sometime tomorrow before we know for sure if she'll pull through."

  "Is there anything I can do?" he asked with fake concern.

  "I believe you've done quite enough, Mark. Get yourself on the next flight to Los Angeles, and we'll find someplace for you to hide until this mess all blows over."

  He didn't like the so
und of that. Thoughts of a sudden car accident, or of disappearing altogether flashed through his churning mind. He knew how cold-hearted his employer was, how much failure was frowned upon. Feigning calmness, Mark nodded at the phone. "All right. I'll drive straight to the airport from here. I should be able to get a flight out in the next couple of hours."

  "Actually, I think it would be better if you drove to Austin to catch a flight. I know it's a lot further for you, but the authorities won't be looking for you there."

  "Good idea. I'll leave immediately." He was anxious to please his employer after the mistakes of the past week.

  "Now remember--keep as low a profile as possible. Fly back coach, and try to make yourself as invisible as you can. I don't want anyone to remember you. I'll have you booked on a flight out of the country when you get here. There will be someone to meet you with your itinerary."

  Mark exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I know that I let you down, but if you'll just give me a chance, I'll make it up to you."

  "I know you will." The voice was calm, almost soothing now. "None of this was your fault. Everything is going to work out just fine. Now hurry back. I've got an assignment for you in Great Britain that I think you'll enjoy."

  "Thank you. I won't let you down," the happy man gushed. I knew I was special. This just proves it. A shame my worthless wife didn't seem to think so, but once I get settled overseas, I'll try to get custody of the kids.

  "Oh. Just in case. You don't have anything with you that could be traced back to me, do you? I'm a little concerned that you could be caught by a radar-happy trooper."

  Mark thought for a moment. "Nope. Not a damned thing. But you don't have to worry. You can trust me completely."

  "I believe you. I guess I'm just a little paranoid." A nervous chuckle crackled through the line. "Hurry back, and we'll get you settled overseas."

  "Great. I'm leaving right now." Mark hung up the phone with a satisfied smile. Guess someone else will get to take care of that Walters woman. Oh, well. He grabbed his suitcase and looked around the room. No more backwater dives for me. Ritz Carlton, here I come.