“Dancing Hills Medical Center,” Regina says through a yawn.
“What am I doing here?”
“Your breathing was so shallow, we thought you were dying. We called 911, and you were brought here in an ambulance. You were unresponsive,” Regina says.
“The doctor said your blood pressure was off the charts and that you were severely dehydrated. They pumped you full of fluids. The doctor should be stopping by soon,” Kate says. “He said if everything looks good, you can leave.”
“You didn’t call Lance or my parents, did you?” I sit up, anxious for their response.
They shake their heads.
“Thank goodness.” I fall back onto the hospital bed, and the transport floods my brain. “I transported. Coach Crawford did kill Robert!”
“We know,” they say.
“You heard me?”
“Bits and pieces,” Regina says.
“We have to call Detective Williams,” I say.
“I’ve already left him a message, and I told him not to tell anyone that I called,” Regina says.
“It’s 6:00 a.m. on Wednesday,” Kate says. “We’ve been up all night.”
“I need to check on Patty.”
“You need to take it easy,” Kate says. “When we leave here, we’re going straight to the diner to get something to eat. Then we’ll go back to the condo to shower and strategize. By then, we should have heard from Detective Williams.”
I nod, wondering when Kate took charge of our operation. She has been an asset. “Where’s my phone?”
Regina reaches into my purse, draped over her arm, and holds it up. “By the way, I left your little friend at the condo,” she says.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching for my phone. I power it up and flinch when I see text messages from Lance, my father, and my mother. I also have several voicemails. “Lance and my parents have been trying to reach me. I need to get out of here.”
“Let me see when the doctor’s going to check on you,” Kate says, leaving.
Regina’s eyes shift from Kate back to me. She walks to me and takes my hand. “I’m so relieved you’re okay. You scared the mess out of me. I felt like I was losing Robert all over again.”
“I’m sorry I frightened you. You know, when I had that incident at Lance’s school, and I thought I was losing my mind, one of the first things I thought about is that I had given you false hope, that I had dragged you into some crazy situation. It devastated me that I had done that to you. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I love you. I really do, Regina.”
“You’re wrong—we’ve known each other all our lives. And I love you too. I’m glad you’re in my life, Gretchen. My agent submitting me for your project is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. We’re going to solve this case. And it amazes me how you’ve put your life on the line to do that.”
We turn toward the door when Kate, followed by a tall, dark-haired man with graying temples, walks in. He thrusts a pen into the pocket of his crisp white coat and fixes his blue eyes on me.
“Good morning, Patricia. How are you feeling?” He approaches me, and Kate and Regina move toward the door.
I scrunch up my face, wondering how this quack could become a doctor when he can’t even read a patient’s name off a medical chart. Oops—Patty has my ID, and I have hers. I guess I’m the quack. “I’m fine. Ready to go.”
“I want the nurse to check your blood pressure one more time. It’s lowered since you arrived, but I want to make sure it hasn’t spiked again. If it’s normal, you can go home. Be sure to drink plenty of fluids and relax.”
Regina, Kate, and I share a conspiratorial glance. “I can manage that,” I say.
******
Riding shotgun in Kate’s pink Cadillac, I try to reach Patty for the tenth time. If I don’t receive an answer soon, I’m going to have someone from the front desk go to her room. It’s 7:30 a.m. The auditions start at 10:00 a.m. Maybe she’s just sleeping in. I haven’t heard from her since she texted me last night to say she was at the hotel. I pray she’s okay.
I read through the text messages that came in last night. The ones from Lance and my parents don’t unnerve me, because before long they’ll be apologizing, when they see Coach Crawford being taken from his Dallas mansion in handcuffs. Every time I reflect on the transport, I get teary eyed. It breaks my heart to know that Robert, who was a father figure for Regina, wanted a father in Coach Crawford and believed he was going to achieve his dream, only to be murdered by the man.
Regina taps my shoulder and I turn toward the backseat. “How do you feel?”
“Sad. I was just thinking about Robert.”
“I was too. I want Coach Crawford behind bars.”
“Me too,” I say.
“Me three,” Kate says, pulling into the diner parking lot.
We get out of the car and head in. The place is packed, and Sarah, at the register, cashes out customers while two other women wait tables. Kate motions to one of the women, and she follows us to a booth in the rear. She takes our orders.
“Any word from Detective Williams?” I ask.
Regina checks her phone. “No. I have the ringer turned up. He should be calling soon.”
“I don’t want to wait too long. We need to move on this,” I say.
“I agree,” Kate says.
“We need to get that card,” I say. “My transporting to the scene isn’t enough. We need solid proof.”
The women nod in agreement.
“Speaking of needs, I need to use the potty.” Kate jumps up and leaves us.
Regina reaches across the table and takes my hands. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
We look up when Kate races toward us. “Come—hurry,” she says.
We grab our bags and follow her to the front of the diner, and she points to the TV. My heart clatters and claws at my chest when I see my face plastered on the screen. We move in closer to hear the newscaster, a short-haired, brunette with a perky nose and full lips, tell millions of viewers what has happened to me.
This morning, Gretchen Holloway, a Dancing Hills University graduate student, was found unconscious in the parking lot of the Dancing Hills Hotel by a groundskeeper. The young woman had been beaten beyond recognition and left for dead. Her fiancé and family have asked that anyone with information about the attack contact the Dancing Hills Police Department.
An ear-splitting scream fills the diner, and it takes a few seconds to identify the noise as my own. “Patty! No, oh my god, it’s Patty.”
Kate and Regina scoop me up and take me back to the Cadillac. They put me in the backseat and sandwich me in. “Calm down, Gretchen. You’ll raise your blood pressure again,” Kate says.
“I killed Patty.”
“No, you didn’t. She isn’t dead. That asshole who’s working for Buford hurt her, and we’re going to bring both their asses down,” Regina says.
Terror surges through me when I realize my parents and Lance think I’m Patty. I fumble for my phone. “Where’s my cell? I need to call Lance and my parents.”
“It’s still in the diner. And you need to let them keep thinking it’s you. If that monster finds out you’re still alive, he’ll come after you. We have to finish what we started,” Kate says.
“Poor Patty. Please let her live, God,” I say.
Kate gets out of the car. “I’ll grab our food, and then we’ll go back to the apart—”
“Hold up. My phone’s ringing,” Regina says. We wait for her to answer it. “Hello … This is she … Thank you for calling, Detective Williams. Yes, I saw the news … Thank you … That’s great news … We’ll be there … What did you say? … You’re breaking up … Hello, are you there?”
Regina looks at her phone, then hangs up. “I lost him. He says he’s been going over everything and that he found something suspect in the files, and he believes there was a cover-up. He’s at the station right now
and about to leave. He’s been in contact with detectives over at the Dancing Hills Police Department, and he wants us to meet him there in two hours.”
“I’ll grab the food. Let’s go to the condo, then go meet Detective Williams.”
Regina and I watch Kate sashay into the diner.
Chapter 34
Regina
Sitting in the office at the condo, waiting for Cookie to come back to the phone, my gaze drifts over the wall, covered with prints of vintage cars—a Ford Model T, a Hudson Super Six, and a Flint. Someone in Patty’s family must be into old cars. Poor thing. According to the latest news report, she’s still unconscious. I wonder what’s taking Cookie so long. I need to talk to her before I return Taylor’s call, to make sure we have our stories straight.
“Gina?”
“I’m here.”
“Sorry about that. I had a call come in from London. The guy said he didn’t receive his package. One of these days, I’m going to get out of customer service and back into acting.”
“I thought you hated acting.”
“I just don’t like auditioning. But I can learn to like it. Anyway, last night my father blew up both my landline and my cell phone. He even called me at work. Why haven’t you called him?”
“We’ve been busy. We know who killed Robert.”
“Yesssss! Who?”
“I don’t want to say over the phone and keep that to yourself. I’m going to be staying with you another night.”
“Damn, Gina. I can’t keep lying to my Pops.”
“Come on, Cookie. Work with me. Once Robert’s killer is brought to justice, your father will be my number one fan.”
“Call him.”
“I am. I just wanted to make sure … I have a call coming in—it’s him. I’ll talk to you later.” I take a moment then answer. “Hi, baby.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Cookie’s.”
“Why are you at Cookie’s when she’s at work?”
“Because she needs someone to do something uplifting for her. So I’m spending the day cleaning her apartment.”
“Regina, I’ve been on the planet for more than half a century. Don’t play me for a fool.”
“I’m not, Taylor. Baby, let me do something nice for your daughter.”
“FaceTime me.”
“Uh … what?”
“I said, ‘FaceTime me.’”
“You’re breaking up, Tay.” I hang up. Damn. I hate this. At least he knows I’m okay.
I turn toward the door when Gretchen peeks in. “Regina, Kate and I are done using the shower. It’s all yours. Kate did the laundry, so you have fresh underwear and clothes. There’s toothpaste and a couple of extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. Once you’re ready, we’ll head out to meet Detective Williams. Were you able to reach Taylor?”
“Yeah, and tell Kate thank you.”
******
I jump back when the too-hot water spray hits me. Adjusting the knob, I take the shower cap on the shower caddy and put it on my head, hoping I don’t get cooties. I’m not sure who it belongs to, but I don’t want to get my hair wet. I moan with relief while the water cascades over my tense shoulders. I just want this all to be over with. I take the washcloth Kate found in the linen closet and wash my face. I grab the bar of soap, and it slips out of my hand and onto the shower floor. Before I can reach for it, someone knocks on the bathroom door.
“Yes?”
“Regina, you need to wrap it up. There’s been a new development, and it’s not good,” Gretchen says.
“Now what?”
“We’re in the living room.”
“I’ll be right out,” I say, turning off the water. I hang the shower cap on the shower caddy, and Patty’s face leaps into my mind. I hope she didn’t die. I didn’t get a chance to meet her, but Gretchen showed us pictures of her. I dry off and dress slowly. I’m in no hurry to hear any more bad news.
I trudge to the living room, where I find Kate and Gretchen watching TV. I sit next to them and look at the TV screen, where I see three people standing at a podium, holding hands: a man who looks like the older male version of Gretchen, a dark-haired woman, and a blond, blue-eyed man in his mid-twenties. A woman with dark hair flecked with gray and a man with dark, curly hair stand next to them. Police officers surround the group.
“My family and Patty’s parents are holding a press conference,” Gretchen says, her voice full of dread. “This is a recording—it’s not live. I’m taping it. They know that Patty isn’t me. Now they think I’m missing and could be dead.” Kate takes the remote off the coffee table and turns up the volume. The man with red hair moves to the podium. “That’s my father. The woman next to the blond guy is my mother, and the blond guy is Lance. The woman and man crying are Patty’s parents.”
Gretchen’s father runs his trembling fingers through his hair, then clears his throat. Gretchen seems mesmerized. A sea of reporters can be seen in the background. The man, red in the face and with puffy eyes, forces out words.
First, I want to thank the Dancing Hills Police Department for their cooperation. Earlier today there was a news report that my daughter, Gretchen Holloway, had been found unconscious in a parking lot at the Dancing Hills Hotel, beaten beyond recognition. We have since learned that the woman is not my daughter. The young woman who was attacked is Patricia Crowley, the daughter of Travis and Karen Crowley.
The woman’s sobs grow louder.
At this time, we don’t know where Gretchen is. The last person to see her was her neighbor. She saw both Gretchen and Patricia leave my daughter’s condominium yesterday, between the hours of 6:00 p.m. and 7:00 p.m. If you have any information regarding Gretchen Holloway’s whereabouts, please contact the Dancing Hills Police Department. We’re afraid that she may be in danger and that the same person who attacked Patricia might be after my daughter. On Monday, this person slashed my daughter’s tires, and he’s been following her.
Gretchen grabs the remote and pauses the TV. “I need to call them.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Kate says. “We’re going to meet Detective Williams. Then you’ll call them. We need to go.”
Gretchen digs in her pockets and looks around the living room. She stands and searches under the sofa cushions.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“My phone. Dammit. I left it at the diner.”
“I had planned to get it when I went back for the food, but I forgot too. See, you’re not supposed to call them. I’ll have Sarah put it up,” Kate says.
“What car are we taking?” I ask.
“The pink lady,” Kate says.
Gretchen starts to turn off the TV, but then she stops and gasps.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She walks to the TV and peers at it. “That man right there.”
“What man?” Kate says.
“The one standing next to that reporter. It’s that damn goon. He’s wearing a suit, but it’s him. Holy crap. I have to warn my parents. I have to call them.”
“Here, use my phone,” I say.
Gretchen takes it and freezes.
“Call them,” Kate says.
“I don’t know their numbers. I don’t memorize numbers. They’re in my phone.”
“Millennials!” Kate screams.
“We need to call the police,” Gretchen says.
I snatch my phone from her and put it on speaker. “Call Dancing Hills Police Department.” Kate and Gretchen, wringing their hands, wait for my phone to dial.
“Dancing Hills Police Department. Officer Brown speaking. How can I help you?”
“My name is Regina Wilson, and I’m a friend of Gretchen Holloway, the missing graduate student. She’s not missing. She’s with me, and we just watched the press conference her parents held in front of the hospital. The man who beat up Patricia Crowley and is trying to kill Gretchen is at that press conference.”
“Ma’am, that press conference
was an hour ago. Can you describe the man?” I hand Gretchen the phone.
“Officer, this is Gretchen Holloway. My parents and fiancé may be in danger. The man is white, he’s about five foot ten, he has a dirty blond crew cut, and he’s clean shaven. He has brown eyes and a tattoo on his wrist that says AKIA.”
“Is there any way you can come to the station?”
“We’re on our way there. We’re supposed to be meeting with Detective Leon Williams with Shady Grove Police Department.”
“You’re timing is impeccable. He just walked through the door.”
“Can we speak to him?” Gretchen says.
“Just a minute.”
“Hello?”
“Detective Williams, this is Gretchen. We’re on our way. There’s a man working with Officer Buford Barnes. He’s the one who beat up my friend Patricia, and he’s after me and may hurt my family. He was at the press conference.”
“Slow down, Gretchen. I know. He’s working with quite a few officers at the department, including my partner, Tony Garcia. There’s a warrant out for his arrest as well as for Garcia and Barnes, who are currently missing.”
“I’m worried about my parents.”
“Your parents and fiancé, and Patty’s parents, are in protective custody.”
“Thank god!”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come here unescorted. I’ll come there. Where are you?”
“3517 Hidden Hills Avenue.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Gretchen?”
“Yes.”
“This is Officer Brown again. Detective Williams just left. Everything is going to be—”
“You’re cutting off.” Gretchen looks at my phone. “The service is really bad out here.” She hands me my phone, and we group hug.
Chapter 35
Gretchen
Detective Williams finally arrives, and we run to the front door.
“Who is it?” Kate says, looking into the peep hole.
“Detective Williams.”
Kate looks over her shoulder at us, and we nod for her to open the door. She does so, and Detective Williams enters the condo. His eyes travel over us and the room. “Are you ladies okay?”
The Truth About Gretchen Page 27