Читать книгу Echo Of Danger - Marta Perry - Страница 11
ОглавлениеJASON TILTED HIS face to the available light, making sure the Morris woman recognized him. With a slight nod, Deidre lowered the window manually, apparently deciding he was trustworthy.
She was wrong. Her car wasn’t starting because he’d made sure it wouldn’t. Nothing serious. A mechanic would spot the loose connection in thirty seconds, but he was banking on Deidre not even looking under the hood.
“My car is dead.” She glanced at her watch. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong.”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a mechanic, but I’ll be glad to wait with you while you call your garage. Or my car is here, and I can easily take you home.”
Now she managed a smile. “The garage will have closed at five, and nothing short of a three-car pileup would get George Frazer away from his television at this hour. If you’re sure you don’t mind...” Deidre was already opening the door.
“Not at all. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?” So easy. She didn’t suspect a thing. Too bad the drive was so short, but at least he’d have some chance of talking with her. “I’m parked out front.”
They walked together along the alley toward the street, their footsteps echoing on the concrete. Shadows lay around the building, and it surprised him that Deidre didn’t seem warier. Maybe small-town living deadened the instincts.
“I appreciate the offer. It’s certainly time I relieved my babysitter.”
“Teenagers always have the meter ticking, I suppose,” he said lightly, wondering who watched the judge’s grandson when she wasn’t there.
“It’s not that. A friend of mine is staying with my son. I hate to call a teenage sitter on a school night, especially when I think a meeting might be lengthy.”
They’d reached his car, and he opened the passenger-side door so she could slide in, then went around quickly to get in and start the car. “It wasn’t my imagination then. It did go on and on.”
“And on,” she said, amusement in her voice. “I’m afraid it wasn’t a very good introduction for you. But typical. Everyone has to have their say.”
“Even if someone else has already said it.” He slanted a smile at her.
“Especially if someone has already said it. No one wants somebody else claiming credit for his or her good idea. I have a theory that the amount of work that gets done is in inverse proportion to the number of people on the committee.”
He had to laugh at Deidre’s dry tone.
“I shouldn’t laugh at them,” she said, shaking her head. “They all mean well. I just hate keeping Dixie out late, even though she insists she doesn’t mind.”
“Dixie?” The name rang a bell. “I think there’s a Dixie in my building.”
“The same one. Dixie James. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, although she just moved back to Echo Falls a couple of years ago. Speaking of which, I hope you’re settling in all right.” She sounded like a good hostess, checking on a guest’s comfort.
All in all, he was beginning to wonder if Deidre Morris, with her honey-colored hair and candid blue eyes, wasn’t just a little too good to be true.
He suspected a show of candor on his part would win her sympathy. “I don’t know if I should bring it up, but I hope...well, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I seem to be taking your late husband’s position in the firm.”
Jase didn’t think he imagined a hesitation before she spoke.
“Not at all. I know the firm needed another person. Trey Alter’s been overworked, especially during the times when court is in session and the judge is unavailable.”
That last bit sounded a tad formal. He should have asked the judge what his current relationship was with his daughter-in-law. If they were in a state of open warfare, he’d have to step cautiously.
He’d been wondering if he should mention her husband or play dumb. But anyone might let it slip that they’d been in law school together. Better play it safe.
“I was sorry to hear about Frank’s death. I noticed it in the alumni newsletter. Guess I should have sent a card, but...well, you wouldn’t have known who I was.”
She turned in the seat to look at him. “Were you a friend of Frank’s?” So that had caught her attention.
“A classmate. I was working too hard to have much time to socialize. But he was a nice guy.”
“Yes, he was.” She didn’t sound overtly mournful, but it had been about a year, and she was probably used to dealing with condolences by now. “When you see our son, Kevin, I think you’ll notice the resemblance.” She was smiling now, maybe at the thought of the kid. “At least, I always thought he looked like Frank, although Frank didn’t agree.”
“Frank thought he looked like you, did he?”
“He claimed Kev was Pennsylvania Dutch through and through. That’s my side of the family, the Wagners. You’ll have to get used to all the German-sounding names in an area like this, especially with the number of Amish we have.”
She was talking more easily now. He’d made some progress, despite the fact that they were pulling up to the house already. She’d feel as if she owed him a favor, and that would make it easier to pursue an acquaintanceship that the judge seemed to feel would pay off.
Jase drove past his own driveway and turned into hers. “I’ll drop you right at the house. No point in walking across the lawn in the dark.”
“You don’t need...” Deidre stopped, staring.
He followed the direction of her gaze, and his nerves went on alert. The front door of her house stood open. That couldn’t be normal.
Deidre grabbed for the door handle, and his hand shot across to arrest the movement.
“Stay here. Call the police. I’ll check it out.” He slid out of the car, not looking back to see if she’d obeyed him. Something was wrong, and there was a defenseless child in that house.
It took him seconds to reach the porch. Deidre was right behind him, and he didn’t waste his breath telling her to stay back. They hit the doorway at the same time, and he grabbed her arm, stopping her from plunging inside.
His gut clenched. A woman lay on the area rug in front of a sofa, blood from a head wound soaking into the fibers. Dixie, he supposed. The child—
Deidre gave an anguished cry that sounded barely human. She yanked free of his restraining hand, running toward the stairway at the back of the room. Then he saw what she had. That small bundle on the bottom step, tangled in a blanket, had to be her son.
* * *
DEIDRE STUMBLED TO her knees next to Kevin, reaching for him. Some rational part of her mind shouted for her to be careful, not to move him suddenly.
She had to hold him—had to know he was breathing. Sliding her arms around him, she managed to cradle him against her. His lips were slightly parted, and a gentle breath moved against her cheek. Relief flooded through her.
Please, God. Please, God, let him be all right...
Deidre’s fingers found a fluttering pulse. But he was pale...so pale that the faint blue shadows under his eyes looked like bruises.
“Kevin, baby, can you hear me?”
Nothing, but she could see the vein pulsing at his temple.
Someone knelt beside her, and she realized it was Jason. “Careful. Don’t move him.”
“No. His head...”
Jason bent over her son, seeming to trace the swelling behind Kevin’s ear with his gaze. “EMTs are on the way. They’ll be here soon. Two ambulances, I told them.”
“Dixie...” She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Kevin long enough to look. And now, when she tried, Jason’s solid body blocked her view.
“Head injury,” he said briefly. “It looks...bad.”
Deidre’s sluggish wits started to move again at that moment. Kevin must have fallen, but Dixie... How could she have gotten a head injury sitting on the sofa?
“What...what happened to her?” Ridiculous to think that he would know any more than she did.
“Someone hit her. She couldn’t have done that much damage falling.”
Amazing that he could sound so calm. Dixie had been attacked. How could that be true? That meant that someone had come into her house and done this.
Jason had turned, surveying the room. Looking for evidence? Deidre cradled Kevin closer, trying to control the trembling that had seized her. She had to be strong. She had to be there for Kevin. She couldn’t fall apart now. Frank was gone, and she was all Kevin had.
Jason’s hand came down on her shoulder, his firm grip steadying her. “It’ll be all right.”
He didn’t sound as if he believed the words. She didn’t. How could anything be all right again when the unthinkable had happened?
Sirens wailed. Jason stood up. “I’ll go signal them. Hold on.”
Deidre managed to nod. She’d hold on because she had to. She couldn’t lose Kevin.
In what seemed a moment, her small living room was filled with people. They’d obviously called out both of Echo Falls’s paramedic teams. One surrounded Dixie while the other moved swiftly into place around Kevin.
“You’ll need to move back just a little.” It was a female voice. “I’m just going to slide your arms out from under him, okay? You don’t need to worry. Joe has him.”
She must have made some sound as hands pulled her away, because the woman patted her. “Just ease back a bit. You can put your hand on his foot, okay? That way he’ll know you’re still here.”
Her throat was too tight to allow for speech. All she could do was close her fingers around Kev’s bare foot, sticking out of the blanket. The superhero pajamas he’d insisted on wearing were getting too small for him. She should get him a new pair. Clinging to the thought was holding her to normalcy for a moment. She held on to a world in which the biggest threat to a small boy was outgrowing his favorite pj’s.
The paramedics talked to each other in low tones, and then the woman put her arm around Deidre. “We’re going to transport Kevin to the hospital in the ambulance. You can ride with him, okay?”
Deidre nodded, unable to think beyond the moment and the clasp of her hand around Kevin’s foot. Voices murmured in the background, people giving orders, asking questions, making arrangements. All she could do was move when they told her to, watch Kevin being lifted onto a stretcher and maintain a tenuous hold on the feeling that assured her he was still alive.
As they made their way toward the door, someone moved in front of her. A police officer, saying something she couldn’t take in, focused as she was on Kevin. Then Jason was deflecting him, drawing him away.
“I was with Mrs. Morris. I’ll answer your questions.”
Good, because she wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t going to let anything or anyone separate her from her son.
Lights flashed in the dark outside, turning the trees odd colors. Someone helped her into the back of the ambulance. She slid to a position as close to Kevin as she could get, all her attention focused on him, shutting out everything else. The paramedics murmured to each other, but her mind couldn’t seem to sort out the words.
They slid out of the driveway, making the turn toward town and the hospital. The siren wailed, and they sped along. People would be looking out windows, wondering who and what.
Kneeling in the ambulance next to Kevin, Deidre was barely aware of the journey until they came to a smooth stop. She glanced up to see the lights of the emergency room, and then they blurred in a flow of smooth, controlled activity as the doors opened and the ER staff moved to join the paramedics. Kevin was so small—there hardly seemed to be enough space for everyone to work on him.
In seconds they were out on the pavement. As Deidre followed the gurney carrying Kevin inside, another ambulance wailed into the drive behind her. Dixie. She breathed a silent prayer. But Dixie of all people would understand that she had to stay with Kevin.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR LATER, she stood alone in the small room set aside for families waiting for news of their loved ones. With its neutral-toned upholstered furniture and muted landscape prints, it had been designed to convey a balance between hope and comfort. She should know—she’d been on the hospital auxiliary committee that decorated it. A discreet plaque on the wall informed anyone who noticed that the lounge had been given through the generosity of Franklin and Sylvia Morris.
She clenched her hands, trying not to give way to fear, to panic. The door opened, and her breath caught. But it wasn’t one of the doctors. It was Judith Yoder, her neighbor, her friend. Deidre’s control broke, and she stumbled into Judith’s outstretched arms.
“Hush, hush.” Judith patted her as if Deidre were one of her children. “Don’t cry. You must be strong for Kevin. You can be, I know. Let the gut Lord help you.”
Judith’s Amish faith might seem simple to an outsider, but it was bedrock strong and would carry her through anything. It seemed to bolster Deidre’s own faltering strength.
Deidre choked back a sob and straightened. She managed to nod. “How did you know?”
“Eli saw the flashing lights from the bedroom window. He could tell it was at your house.”
She knew it hadn’t been as simple as that. Eli, being a volunteer firefighter, had probably run to the phone shanty to call dispatch and find out what had happened. Then he’d have called an Englisch neighbor to drive Judith to the hospital. But nothing would be too much trouble for either of them when a friend needed help.
Judith sat beside her on the sofa, clasping her hands as Deidre spilled out everything that had happened in a probably incoherent stream.
“They took Kevin for tests. I heard someone say to have an operating room ready. I haven’t heard anything about Dixie. I don’t know what’s happening.” That was the worst thing—not knowing.
“When someone said a woman had been seriously hurt, I thought it was you.” Judith’s previously calm voice trembled.
Deidre closed her eyes for an instant, seeing Dixie lying on the rug in her living room. “If I’d been home...” She struggled for breath. “Dixie was only there because she was doing something kind for me.”
Judith’s grasp of her hands tightened. “Ach, Deidre, you must not start blaming yourself. This is the fault of the person who did it, no one else.”
She tried to accept the words, but guilt dug claws into her heart. She hadn’t been there. Kevin had been in danger, and she hadn’t been there.
Judith seemed to understand all the things she didn’t say—the fear, the panic just barely under control. She talked, a soft murmur of words that flowed around Deidre in a comforting stream even when she didn’t fully listen.
The door opened and closed as others began to arrive—the judge, gray-faced and controlled, demanding answers no one had; the minister, looking young and uncertain; even Jason, who surely realized he didn’t need to be here at all but seemed unwilling to leave.
Deidre roused herself to speak to Jason. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure you’d prefer to go home.”
It was her father-in-law who answered. “I’ve asked Jason to stay, for a time, at least. He can deal with the police and any reporters who show up.” His tone implied that any reporter unwise enough to attempt to speak to them wouldn’t have a job for long.
One of the aides carried in a tray with coffee and tea. Deidre shook her head, but Judith insisted on fixing her a mug of hot tea with plenty of sugar.
“It will make you feel better. Drink it up, now.”
It was easier to obey than to argue. And Judith was right. The hot liquid eased the tight muscles in her throat and warmed her cold hands.
The judge paced. Jason leaned against the wall, solid and apparently immovable. After what seemed an eternity, Kevin’s pediatrician, Elizabeth Donnelly, came in, accompanied by a tired-looking older man.
“Deidre.” Liz came quickly to clasp her hands. “Kevin’s in good hands, and it looks hopeful. This is Dr. Jamison, who worked on Kevin from the moment he came in, and he can explain what’s happening...”
“Is the boy going to recover? Is he awake? Does he know what happened?” Judge Franklin rushed into speech, demanding the attention of everyone in the room.
“As Dr. Donnelly said, it looks hopeful.” The older doctor seemed unfazed by the rapid-fire questions. “Kevin has what I would consider a fairly severe head injury, but nothing that we feel requires surgery at the moment. We’re monitoring him closely, and we plan to keep him in a medically induced coma for a day or two to help minimize any damage. If the brain should swell, we might need to go in to alleviate the pressure, but if not, we could see a fairly rapid recovery.”
Deidre’s thoughts had hung up on one word. Damage. “Do you mean—Will Kevin have brain damage?”
Liz squeezed her hand. “We just don’t know yet. The next twenty-four hours will tell us a lot. Hang in there.”
“Thank you.” The words were automatic. “Can I see him?”
The two doctors exchanged looks. “For a few minutes, at least,” Liz said.
“I’m coming, as well.” The judge grasped Deidre’s arm, and she thought it was the first time in a year that he’d voluntarily touched her.
She glanced at him, and then looked away. The pain in his face made it indecent to stare.
They followed the doctors down the hallway, and it seemed to Deidre that she was moving as awkwardly as a robot. She had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, and she longed for Frank’s presence beside her. But Frank was gone, and he had never seemed so far away.
Then a door opened, and she saw her son. Despite the machines and wires that formed a mechanical cocoon around his bed, Kevin looked as if he were sleeping, his head turned slightly to one side as it always was in slumber. She slipped forward, able to move now that she could see him.
She folded her fingers over his hand. He was alive. Whatever happened, she would deal with it, but Kevin was alive.
Liz moved a chair up to the bed and nudged her into it. “Just sit here with him for a few minutes. Don’t attempt to wake him. The nurse may have to ask you to leave at some point. I know I can count on you to cooperate.”
Don’t make a fuss, in other words. But she wasn’t the type to fuss, was she?
Liz turned away, and Deidre reached out to catch her hand. “My friend, the one who was with Kevin, do you know how she’s doing?”
Liz’s eyes clouded. “I’m sorry. I’ve been told that Dixie James died without regaining consciousness.”
* * *
JASE SLIPPED OUT of the waiting room and watched as Deidre and her father-in-law trailed the doctors down the hall. They disappeared from sight into the boy’s room. An unaccustomed emotion wrenched at his heart. Poor little guy. Still, things did sound hopeful regarding his recovery.
He’d really been pitchforked into trouble when he’d set out to meet Deidre Morris tonight. There was a bright side to his actions in sabotaging her car—at least she hadn’t been alone when she’d made that grisly discovery.
So why did the memory of his actions bring with it a wave of guilt?
Jase glanced back at the waiting room, but he was too restless to sit in there. He had to talk to the judge as soon as possible. Given what had happened, he’d surely want to delay any action against his daughter-in-law, and Jase would be relieved to be out from under the burden of that task. Whatever Deidre’s other failings, there’d been no mistaking her anguish over her son. He didn’t doubt that she’d have changed places with the boy in an instant.
Kevin’s injury had been bad enough, but at least it had looked like an accident. But the woman—that had been deliberate. He was no expert, but he’d be surprised if anyone could have survived that blow to the head. What on earth was going on in this supposedly peaceful small town?
The hall was as quiet as a hospital ever was, the lights slightly dimmed and most of the patient room doors closed. Two nurses were having a conversation about their weekend plans at the nurses’ station, their voices as cheerful as if it was the middle of the afternoon.
He moved toward Kevin’s room, making little sound on the tile floor. A talk with the judge was definitely in order. He’d done his best to answer the cop’s questions, automatically not volunteering anything extra. But the police would have to question Deidre sooner or later, and if he was meant to represent her, that had to be clarified.
Pausing, he watched the door, reluctant to make a move. It swung open, and he had a brief glimpse of the child on the high, narrow bed, with Deidre sitting next to him, her eyes intent on his face. Then the door closed as the judge, still gray-faced, approached him.
“Can we have a word?” Jase kept his voice low.
Judge Morris glanced around, nodded and led the way to the window at the end of the corridor, safely out of earshot of the nurses’ station.
“How is the boy?” He sounded awkward. Not surprising, since he felt awkward. Dealing with emotion had never come easy to him.
“You heard what the doctor said, so you know as much as I do. It’s a matter of waiting.” Judge Morris looked as if the concept was completely unfamiliar to him.
“I’m sorry.” Jase hesitated. “Under the circumstances, I take it you won’t want me to proceed with any further investigation.”
Morris’s face froze. “Then you take it wrong. It’s more important than ever now.”
“But with your grandson in the hospital...”
“That’s the point,” Morris snapped. “Why is he here? Was he injured because something Deidre did put him in danger? I have to know, or how can I protect him?”
Jase got where he was coming from, but at the moment there seemed nothing to tie Deidre to the attack on the woman. “It’s possible it was an attempted burglary that turned violent. Nothing to do with either Mrs. Morris or Ms. James.”
The judge shook his head impatiently. “A burglar would have seen the lights and known someone was home.”
“True, but even so, the violence was directed at Dixie James.” It seemed to him more likely that, if it wasn’t a burglary or a random attack, someone had either followed Dixie or had known she was babysitting that night.
“We have too little information to speculate, I suppose.” The judge glanced around, as if expecting that information to materialize because he wanted it.
“Deidre is unlikely to do anything to raise questions about her behavior while her son is in the hospital,” Jase pointed out, trying to be the voice of common sense.
“I suppose not, but I still want you to represent her with the police. And help her deal with any reporters.” The judge turned away, and then turned back as if struck by a second thought. “I’ll have a word with the chief of police to make sure he keeps you abreast of what’s happening in the investigation. It’s best to be prepared.”
Being prepared to the judge obviously meant pulling as many strings as necessary to ensure that he took care of his grandchild. Jason couldn’t fault his goal, whatever he thought of his methods. In any event, he didn’t have much choice.
“All right.” Movement down the hall caught his eye. “Looks as if the cops are here.” Two officers, one young enough to look as if he were growing into his uniform and the other a silver-haired older man, had just emerged from the elevator.
The judge looked at them and stiffened still more. “Under no circumstances are they to attempt to question my grandson. I won’t have his recovery jeopardized by an overeager policeman. See to it.”
Jason nodded, privately thinking that not much effort would be necessary. The doctors would no doubt do that job for him. “They’ll be wanting to speak to your daughter-in-law tonight. They do have an assault to solve.”
“Murder,” Morris corrected. “The doctor told us the woman didn’t survive. I’ll have a word with them on my way out, and I’m relying on you to make sure their questioning is as brief as possible.”
Jase nodded. He suspected that would be an easy matter after the judge spoke to them. Judge Morris clearly carried a lot of clout in this town, and the police would be more aware of that than anyone.
He watched as the judge approached the two, spoke for a moment and then gestured to Jase. Obeying the summons, he approached to find himself being surveyed coolly by the older man.
“Chief Carmichaels, Jason Glassman. Glassman is the new associate at the firm. He’ll be handling anything necessary for my daughter-in-law.”
With a curt nod, the judge stalked to the elevator and pushed the button. Even the elevator obeyed him, opening promptly.
By what seemed to be common consent, the three of them waited until the doors had closed before turning to business. “I hear the boy’s in a bad way.” Chief Carmichaels’s expression softened. “Poor little guy.”
“I understand the doctors are hopeful that he’ll recover. But they’re keeping him in a medically induced coma for the next few days.” He trusted he didn’t have to spell it out for the man.
Carmichaels nodded. “Meaning we won’t know what, if anything, he saw until he comes out of it.”
“Maybe not even then,” Jase pointed out. “People sometimes have no memory of the events leading up to a head injury. And I doubt you can expect much from a five-year-old, anyway.”
“We have to try.” Carmichaels’s tone was mild, but Jase didn’t miss the steel in his eyes. This was a man who would do his job, no matter what anyone said. Still, he’d probably try to do it without antagonizing anyone, which would help.
“As for Mrs. Morris...” Jase began.
“Now, Mr. Glassman, I’m sure a big-city prosecutor like yourself knows we have to talk to her, no matter how inconvenient it might be. This is now a murder case.”
In other words, his reputation had preceded him. It would have been foolish to think otherwise.
“She’s sitting with her son at the moment.” If the chief’s words had been a challenge, he wouldn’t take it up. “I’m willing to ask her to come out for a few minutes, providing you keep it brief. I was with Mrs. Morris the entire time and probably better able to observe the situation, since I wasn’t personally involved.”
“I understand you drove her home from a meeting at the library. You went together, did you?” The chief’s silver eyebrows lifted slightly, as if it seemed unlikely to him.
“No, I just met Mrs. Morris for the first time at the meeting. Afterward, I noticed she was having trouble getting her car started, so I offered her a lift home.”
“And you went into the house with her,” Carmichaels added.
“Only because I noticed the door standing open. We city-dwellers are always on alert for signs of a break-in, as you can imagine.”
The chief nodded, as if satisfied with that explanation. “If you’ll ask Mrs. Morris to give us a few minutes, then we’ll get out of the way.”
Jason frowned as a thought occurred. “Are you leaving someone on duty here?”
“I don’t have a big enough force to spare a man, but I can ask the security guard to check in often. You have a reason to think the child is in danger?” There was an edge to the cop’s voice.
“I’ve only been in town two days. I know next to nothing about the situation, but if the child might be a witness to murder...” He let that trail off, satisfied that he’d made his point.
“We’ll make sure he’s never left alone.” He glanced toward the door meaningfully, and Jase took the hint. He wanted to see Deidre, and he didn’t appreciate being told his business by an outsider. Nobody did, but maybe an outsider saw more by virtue of the fact that everything was unfamiliar.
He slipped into the room, pausing for a moment to be sure he wasn’t startling Deidre or the boy. But Kevin was deeply asleep, his chest barely rising and falling as he slept, and Deidre looked up immediately at the change in light when the door opened.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he murmured. “Chief Carmichaels needs to ask you a few questions. If you’ll just come out for a minute or two...” He could see her instinctive response.
“I can’t leave Kevin. What if something happens?”
“I’ll get someone to stay with him.” But even as he spoke, a male nurse, identification plainly displayed, entered the room.
“I’ll be here with Kevin for a few minutes.” He gave Deidre a reassuring smile. “I’d have to ask you to step out, anyway. And I won’t leave until you come back, okay?”
Seeing she had no choice, Deidre removed her hand slowly from her son. She bent over and whispered something to him before coming to Jase.
“It’s all right,” he said quickly, putting a hand on her elbow. If she got any paler, she’d be whiter than the sheets. “I’ll make sure the cops don’t overstay their welcome.”
She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze with a look of surprise and gratitude that startled him. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved in this at all. If you hadn’t been so kind as to give me a lift, you could have been safely home by now.”
Kind. There was her child lying in a coma, and she thanked him for being kind when he was the one who’d sabotaged her car. He couldn’t feel any lower if he tried.
