Travis got out of his chair, stiff muscles rebelling against the effort, and went to Crystal’s side. Her hair had almost completely fallen out, but what was still there, he stroked gently. Her skin was grayer than it had been when they’d admitted her the other day, and she was much weaker. He could feel her drifting away, pulling into herself, preparing to surrender to death, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
She’s going to bounce back. She always has before. This treatment is going to work.
He turned away from her bed and ran both hands through his hair. It was badly in need of a cut. Quietly, he stepped to the window, peered out between the blinds. People were parking and walking in and out, reminding him that life existed outside this room.
Images of his twin sons flashed through his mind, and he wondered how they were doing with Wendy today.
“They keep asking for Daddy,” Wendy had told him on the phone earlier. “I guess they’re getting used to Crystal not being here, but it’s hard to explain why they can’t see you.”
Travis had bitterly mumbled that she should just tell them the truth, that they couldn’t always have what they wanted in life. But the moment he uttered the words, he’d hated himself and apologized. The situation was too complicated for their young minds to understand. It was too complicated for him.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out and saw the text from Dustin. He was out of jail.
Travis breathed a long sigh of relief. He had barely thought about his partner since seeing Jamie Powell this afternoon. What kind of friend was he?
Crystal moved beneath the sheets, and Travis turned toward her. Her eyes fluttered open, their pale glaze blurring the clarity he always hoped for. But behind that glaze, she was still there. She glanced around the room, met his eyes, and the slightest smile lifted the corners of dry, cracking lips. “Perk up, Grey. You look awful.”
He tried to smile, but he knew that waking up meant she would have to face another battle with pain. And that was something he couldn’t joke his way around. At least, not without effort.
He took her hand. She was cold. She was always cold lately. He pulled up her covers and tried to warm her hand in the heat of his.
“Did I dream about Dustin being in jail?” she asked in a voice barely stronger than a whisper. “Or did you tell me that?”
Travis wished he hadn’t told her, but it was hard to be selective about facts when she yearned to know everything that went on and never stopped asking Travis to fill her in. News about friends and family was a lifeline for her. It kept her fighting. “Yep, it’s true, but don’t worry. It’s all a mistake. He just texted me that he’s out.”
“But it’s serious, isn’t it?”
“He’ll get it straightened out,” Travis said with a reassuring smile.
“You have to help him.”
“He’s using our line of credit for the bond. I’ll do whatever else I can. All he has to do is say the word.”
But he knew he wasn’t going to leave Crystal’s side, even if Dustin asked him to. Travis knew Dustin would understand. That was what friends were for.
20
Dustin looked uncomfortable in Jamie’s passenger seat, his arm propped on the door beneath the window. “You look like you’re bracing yourself,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ve gotten better since you taught me how to drive.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I was just having a flashback. Garbage cans and mailboxes flying in all directions.”
She laughed for the first time since he’d come back into her life. “You haven’t changed,” Jamie said.
He glanced at her. “And you still look eighteen.”
“I’d say the same thing, but you were never eighteen, were you, Dustin?”
“No, I guess I never was.” He glanced off into the distance. His eyes held a trace of amusement, the way they always had when she hit a nerve.
“So tell me about this house you rented.”
“We put it in my assistant’s name, so no one should be able to trace us there. It’s a big house. You can have the bedroom on the first floor, and Avery and I will sleep upstairs. They allow pets, so . . . Dude . . . can stay with you.”
He chuckled. “You like that name?”
“It sounded just like you.”
His smile faded. “I really doubt all this is necessary. Saying you’d take responsibility for me.”
“Trust me, it is. The press don’t know about this yet, but they will today. It’s not going to look good. The DA and judge could have refused bond. I had to give it everything I had. It was either stay with me or stay in jail.”
He sighed. “Well, I appreciate it. I’ll pay for the rental, unless you’re putting it on my tab.”
“We’ll work it out,” she evaded.
“It’s a lot of trouble for you and Avery. How old is she now?”
She smiled. “She’s seven. You’ve never seen her, have you?”
“No, but I bet you have pictures on your phone.”
She clicked on her phone and showed him the photo she used as her wallpaper.
He took the phone and studied it with a smile. “That’s incredible. She looks just like you. Almost the same as when I met you.” He laughed. “Glad she doesn’t take after Joe.”
The comment surprised her, but he quickly spoke up again.
“I’m sorry I brought that up. It must still be painful for you, what happened with him.”
“Yeah, it is. But it’s been four years. It’s all right, though. I know you never liked him. Turns out you were right about . . . you know. The drugs.”
“I didn’t want to be right.”
“I know.” She could have gone deeper, but she decided it was best to let it go at that.
“This rental is actually to protect us as much as you. You’ve never been on the receiving end of a media frenzy. We have to be ready.”
He looked out the window. The gravity of the situation seemed to settle over him like the rain clouds gathering. “Maybe I should get a different lawyer.”
She glanced over at him. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re putting yourself in danger, representing some guy being blamed for killing a bunch of innocent people.”
“You’re not some guy. You’re my friend.”
He kept his face diverted, and his hand came up to his mouth.
“Do you remember the day you left to join the army, Dustin? When we were all at the bus station saying goodbye?”
Dustin didn’t look at her. “Yeah, I remember. Aunt Pat smiled more that day than the whole time I lived with her.”
“But I didn’t.” Her eyes clouded, and suddenly she felt like that eighteen-year-old standing at the station, realizing for the final time that Dustin Webb was fading from her life. “I was proud of you, though. You sent Pat some pictures of you in your uniform, and she gave one to me. I thought you looked so handsome. You had so much purpose, so much pride. But . . . I really missed you.”
He still didn’t look at her.
She paused, then found her voice again. “I thought I’d hear from you. That you’d write. Something.”
“I got busy.”
“Yeah.” Jamie swallowed the old emotion that had never let go of her. After a moment she found her voice again. “Well, now is what really matters, isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and told herself she wouldn’t let the hurtful memories get in the way of the good ones. “I know you’re tired, but I feel like we need to work fast while we can do it unimpeded. Could you get Travis to meet us somewhere so I can interview him?”
“I doubt it. If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to go to the hospital. His wife is really sick. He can’t leave her.”
“If I go, can you come with me? I need to go over things with both of you.”
“I was hoping to go rent a car this afternoon, since they took mine for evidence.”
“I’ll take you there right now,” she said. “Then you can meet me at
the hospital. I know you’re tired after being in jail, but we have a lot of work to do.”
“Yeah, I figured that.”
Jamie drove him to an Enterprise shop. In front, cars were lined up, waiting to be rented. “Text me if you have any problems. I can come back and get you.”
“Will do.”
“See you at the hospital. Listen, if anybody with the press calls, don’t talk to them. Just hang up. In fact, don’t answer calls unless it’s me.”
“Don’t worry.” He got out of the car and leaned back in. “Listen, about Travis. Don’t expect him to be too social. Crystal’s having a real bad time right now.”
“Is she dying?”
“No.” He said it as if the mere act of denial could stop the inevitable. “I mean . . . I hope not. They started her on a new treatment a couple of days ago, and we’re optimistic. But he’s really under a lot of stress.”
As she pulled away, she thought about Dustin’s words and realized he must be close to Crystal, too. The emotion had been clear on his face, and his denial had sounded like the words of a family member who couldn’t cope with the loss.
She hated to storm into the hospital demanding an interview, but time was important to Dustin as well. The media attention was about to slam into them like the bomb that had started this whole cascade of events. She had to be ready.
21
The area around Trudeau Hall was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape and barricades, but outside the perimeter, at the sign near the street, a little sympathy area had formed, where mourners had laid flowers and pictures of loved ones who had died.
Taylor approached the makeshift shrine and knelt in front of it, the terror and heart-pumping memory of yesterday overcoming her. She pulled out the pictures she’d printed of her friends and placed in clear plastic report covers. Later she would have better copies of these pictures laminated and replace this set. But for now, she wanted everyone who came to see her friends’ faces—faces of actual human beings who hadn’t seen the explosion coming, the explosion that had snatched away their lives when they were in their prime. She forced herself to look at the pictures already there. There were some she recognized. They’d been sitting in front of her or down the row. Who would have thought they’d all be dead now, mourned by strangers touched more by their deaths than by anything these victims had time to do in their lives.
Harper hugged her when she got up, and as they walked back to the car, a reporter and camera crew confronted her. She was too emotional to talk to them, so she waved them off and locked herself in the car.
Raindrops hit the windshield as they started to pull away. “It can’t rain,” Taylor said. “Everything will get wet. All the pictures . . .”
“I know,” Harper said. “But we can take fresh ones tomorrow. They’ll bring more flowers. More posters.”
They could rebuild the shrine, Taylor thought as the rain started to come down harder. They couldn’t rebuild the lives that had ended with such force.
She cried silently on the way home, wiping her face and her chin, mopping her nose, as Harper drove without talking.
When they got into Taylor’s apartment, Harper stayed and made herself busy in the kitchen.
Taylor curled up on the couch, watching TV pundits speculate whether Ed Loran’s opponents in the presidential race were possible culprits, while the news anchors suggested it was foreign terrorists who were known to target large crowds. Taylor took in every theory and tried to make sense of it in her head.
Extensive reports on Ed Loran’s background waxed poetic about who he was and how he’d become a presidential contender.
“Loran’s time as CEO was marked with controversy over the radiation said to be emitted from the Cell Three Therapeutics plant, which allegedly caused the cancer rate in the surrounding community to increase by a multiple of twenty. He navigated the company through that crisis and won the court case that would have cost the company millions in restitution to the town. After he resigned from Cell Three, he took over as CEO of BioTronics, a pharmaceutical company that created a universal flu vaccine . . .”
“I can’t decide if he was a good guy or a bad guy,” Harper said from the kitchen area.
“Me either.”
“Why were you a supporter?”
“I wasn’t,” Taylor said. “He just had all these relationships in LA, and he had major headline musicians playing at his rallies. I went to see Blue Fire. That’s all. I didn’t know I was walking into a death trap.”
“Politics can be deadly,” Harper said. “He was siphoning off votes from both parties. Somebody wanted him out of the way.”
“I hope not enough to kill him. Is the world that evil?”
“Yes,” Harper said. “It is. Politics has gotten brutal. They’ll get to the bottom of it. Just wait a few days.”
Taylor hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. She didn’t know if she could sleep until she knew whom to hate.
22
Sunlight from the world outside entered the little hospital room like a shy visitor afraid to come inside. Travis plugged the adapter into the hospital TV and started his download of Duck Soup onto his computer. He had read an article about laughter being the best medicine and had convinced himself that the Marx Brothers might have just the healing power Crystal needed.
“Wait till you see this,” he told her. “It’ll crack you up.”
Crystal managed to smile. “If you wanted to crack me up, you should have brought those home movies of us in Rio.”
Travis sat next to her on the bed as the credits rolled. “The karaoke ones where I sang ‘Blue Suede Shoes’? You were mortified.”
Crystal laughed for the first time in days. “No, it was when you sang ‘I Feel Pretty’ from West Side Story. It was such a weird choice.”
Her words tumbled into laughter again, and Travis laughed, too, savoring every ounce of life he heard in the lilt of her voice.
“Did Dustin videotape all that?” Travis asked.
“Of course he did. Hey, that was the night that waitress hit on him.”
“Old Dustin,” Travis said. “He’s always drawn the women, hasn’t he?”
“Out of the woodwork,” Crystal said.
The laughter gave him a healing release from his dreads and anxieties. It was enough to make him truly believe that his wife was on her way to recovering yet again.
If only the laughter held such healing power for her, too.
23
Jamie had just stepped into the lobby of the hospital when her phone chimed. She glanced at the screen and saw a Google alert for Dustin Webb, which she had set up earlier. Her heart sank. That meant someone had just mentioned his name in an article posted somewhere on the Internet. She stood in the lobby and clicked on the alert.
There it was, an article on a local TV station’s website, posted fifteen minutes ago. Her stomach clenched. Things were about to get ugly.
Dustin walked through the front glass doors, and she showed him her phone. “The media’s got it.”
He glanced at the headline. “They named me?”
“Yeah. We need to talk to Travis and then get out of here before your picture is all over the news.”
“How much did they tell?”
“Just the facts about the arrest.” She punched the elevator button. “I’m sure they’re digging up more.”
“The facts,” Dustin muttered. “Crazy how condemning a bunch of facts can look.”
The elevator opened, and they stepped on. “They didn’t connect you with the bombing yet.”
“How long do you think that will take?”
“We can hope it goes over their heads. At least for a while. Sometimes things do. Not that many people will read this. It’s a short article.”
“No, not many. Just a few hundred potential clients, every friend I have in town, and my dear, sweet aunt Pat.”
“Pat knows already,” she said quietly. “My mother talked to her last night.�
��
Dustin turned away from her and faced the elevator door. “Terrific. She’s probably already called the judge and convinced him to add an extra twenty years.”
“I guess she took it the way you’d expect,” she said. “Mom said she was upset.”
Dustin gave a bitter laugh. “Upset? Don’t you think that’s an understatement?”
Jamie wished she could tell him that Pat supported and loved him and believed in his innocence. But they both knew that wasn’t the case.
The elevator opened. “Let’s go see Travis,” she said.
They got off on the floor where so many cancer patients were being treated. A family stood in the hallway crying and hugging each other.
Dustin met Jamie’s eyes. “Sometimes my own problems seem so small when I compare them to what these people are going through.”
“Your problems aren’t small, Dustin.”
“I know. It’s just that Crystal’s in here going through God knows what.”
“Are you close to her?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Real close.”
She thought he would leave it at that, but after a moment, he went on. “Travis and I met in basic training, and we got assigned together after that. Two tours to Afghanistan. When we got out of the army, we started our security business, and we’ve been partners ever since. I was with him when he met Crystal. Travis told me right away he was going to marry that girl, bet me a thousand bucks, no less. I lost.”
His expression faded into soul-deep sadness as they walked toward Crystal’s room. “She’s irreplaceable. She has to pull through.”
Jamie didn’t know Crystal, but she felt Dustin’s pain. She set her hand on his shoulder. “She will,” she said, wishing she had the power to make it so.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” he said with waning conviction. “Come on, it’s this way.”
Jamie hesitated. “Maybe I shouldn’t go with you,” she said, suddenly feeling like an intruder now that she knew just how bad Crystal’s condition was.
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