“Mr. and Mrs. Carver?”
Dean Maverick.
The tips of my ears burned hot as I hopped up from my chair, letting the blanket fall to the floor. “Oh, no you don’t, you sleaze!” I whisper-yelled, trying not to disturb the receptionist. “You leave these people alone. They only just got here and already you’re looking to poke and prod the child they haven’t even been able to see yet? Well, I’m here to tell you, ambulance chaser, not while I’m breathing! Take yourself and your cheap outlet-mall suit right on out of here!” I pointed to the door, my finger shaking with my rage.
But my outburst didn’t even lift a hair on Dean Maverick’s perfect head. “I have every right to be here, Miss Valentine.”
“Did they teach you that in your online class for lawyering?”
His eyes gleamed, as though sparring with me was something he lived for. Dean smiled lasciviously when he said, “My law degree comes from the University of Virginia, just FYI.”
“Huh. I didn’t know they had online classes.”
Now he full-on grinned. “You are very spicy, Ms. Valentine. I like a girl with gusto.”
“Do you like a guy who’s bigger than you by at least six inches and fifty pounds escorting you from places you’re not wanted?” Hobbs asked, looming over him. “I’m going to make a suggestion for a peaceful end to this by asking you to leave.” Hobbs hitched his eyes toward the door.
Dean Maverick sized him up and sucked his teeth as he rocked back on his heels. “Easy, big guy. I’m just trying to help the people out and catch a killer.”
I nearly blew my head off from the sky-high shot my blood pressure took. “You’re doing no such thing. You’re looking to cash in on people’s pain and get them to sue for some frivolous cause that won’t win in even the most three-ring circus of court rooms, all so you can make a buck and bill for nonexistent hours. Go away, Mr. Maverick, or I’m going to call the police and tell them you’re harassing people—and then you’d better hope you took the class in how to post your own bail!”
Dean lifted his chin in arrogant defiance, but his smile remained. Unruffled, he pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out to Mrs. Carver. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”
Oh, the number of bad words I was fighting to keep on the inside right now was off the charts. But I clenched my fists and fought for all the restraint Atti preached.
Mrs. Carver took the card, but she threw it on the ground and, as she looked directly at Dean Maverick, she ground her foot on it and turned her back.
Still, Dean wasn’t at all affected. He took his time, strolling out of the emergency room, his tan trench coat swishing about his knees as he did.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carver,” I apologized. “He’s been hanging around, looking to score clients with this whole mess. I’ll try to make sure the hospital knows he’s been hassling some of us.”
“Some of us?” she asked, a worried frown on her face. “Who else is there?”
I explained her daughter’s connection to the reasons why Dean Maverick would come sniffing around, excluding the bit about the taillight Stiles told me they’d found, virtually proving she’d been at least in the vicinity of Feeney’s.
“The night my uncle was hurt and the night Gable Norton was killed he was hoping to talk to my Uncle Monty because somehow he’s roped Anna Norton into making him her attorney.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Carver?” asked a tall man with a white doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around his neck.
I held my breath when he approached them, praying as hard as I’d ever prayed that Kerry would at least physically be all right.
I backed away, not wanting to intrude, but Mrs. Carver reached for my hand, pulling me toward her. “This is the woman who stayed with my girl in the ambulance. She can hear whatever it is you have to tell us.”
Hobbs came to stand by my side, grabbing my other hand and standing close.
“Overall, she’s in pretty rough shape. I don’t know how long she was out in this weather, but she has some hypothermia that concerns us, aside from her cuts and bruises. She was also dehydrated and exhaustion is certainly a factor. When she came to, we weren’t able to calm her down, even after reassuring her she was in the hospital and safe. So we’ve given her a sedative for the moment, to encourage peaceful rest, and an IV of fluids, and we’ll also run some tests. But she’s a strong young lady, and physically, her future looks good. You can see her for a bit once she’s settled in her room, but I caution you, she’s pretty banged up. ”
I tried to hide the long breath I let out, hissing from my lips like air from a balloon. Thank you, Goddess.
I couldn’t help it. Tears fell from my eyes as Mr. and Mrs. Carver hugged. And then Mrs. Carver hugged me. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. Thank you.”
The Carvers left us to go tend to Kerry—and it was in that moment that everything came crashing down around me. My uncle’s surgery, Kerry Carver’s condition, looking for a killer in a haystack.
As the quiet settled over me, and the last two days’ events seeped in, I dropped my chin to my chest and shuddered an inhale, crying in gratitude and relief.
Hobbs wrapped his arm around me, and I let my head fall to his chest, where I had a good cry.
Today, I’d let all my fear out.
But tomorrow?
Tomorrow I’d take on the day like a fierce warrior and figure out who did this to my uncle, to Kerry Carver, to Gable Norton.
But that would have to wait until tomorrow.
My phone’s loud buzz woke me from a sound sleep. I answered groggily, “Hello?”
“Miss Valentine?”
I sat straight up in bed, my eyes flying open wide. “Yes?”
“This is Belinda Espinoza, from the hospital, do you remember me?”
I scrubbed my eyes with my hand and nodded, then remembered I had to say the word out loud. “Yes, Belinda. I remember. Is everything all right?”
Terror set in, my mouth going dry as I swung my legs over the side of my bed and Atti buzzed to life, flying to my shoulder.
“We need you to come into the hospital, please. We can talk then.”
I froze in fear. “Is my uncle…is he all right?”
There was a small hesitation before she said, “Yes. He’s all right, but we do need you to come in right away.”
“Should I bring his husband with me?” I squeaked, afraid of the answer.
Belinda paused another moment, and then answered, “It might be better if you didn’t disturb him.”
I looked at the bleached-wood clock above my fireplace and blinked. It was three-thirty in the morning. “Okay, give me ten minutes and I’ll be right there.”
I jumped off my sleigh bed and went into my bathroom, taking one look at the hair mashed to the side of my face and my puffy eyes, and I didn’t care what Atti was going to say about it—I’d frighten the staff of the hospital, looking like this.
Snapping my fingers, I closed my eyes and let my magic do its thing, letting the warmth of it wash over me. My teeth instantly felt clean, my breath was fresh, my hair was brushed and up in a quick topknot, my eyes were no longer puffy and my clothes magically replaced my pajamas.
Atticus instantly buzzed into the bathroom and hovered by my head.
“I’m worried, Atti. The nurse said Uncle Monty was fine, but why would they want me to come in so late at night?”
“I don’t know, Poppet. It could be a hundred different things. Don’t fret now. Simply stay the course and focus. No panicking until we know there’s a reason to do so. Now, shall I come with?”
“No. Stay put in case Uncle Darling wakes up.” Snapping my fingers again, I conjured up my favorite boots, looking down to be sure they were tied. “Don’t say a word, Atti. Not a word. I’m not going to the hospital looking like I just hopped out of the garbage bin.”
“I shan’t,” he said groggily, his deep voice, so reminiscent of Lou Rawls’s, even deeper after slumb
er. “I’m too tired to fight you, Poppet. In fact, zap yourself over there rather than driving and I shall have your truck waiting for you, toasty and warm in the parking lot when you’re finished.
I mock gasped at him in the mirror. “Atti? Are you—are you becoming a softie in your old age?”
“The mere thought gives me the vapors. No, Halliday, I’m becoming exhausted with your constant involvement in the affairs of murder. Now, be on your way, and I shall ensure Andrew stays asleep. I don’t imagine you need his brand of dramatics this eve.”
I kissed my fingers and smiled at him. “Thanks, Atti. See you in a bit.” I gave him a quick stroke on his tiny head and snapped my fingers again—landing squarely on the side of the hospital in the dark parking lot.
I fell out of my transportation spell with a jolt, almost smacking into the brick face of the hospital before I caught myself and faceplanted to the ground.
Squaring my shoulders, I smoothed out my jacket and, as I made my way into the lobby of the hospital, saw that Atti had indeed dropped my truck in the parking lot for me.
With a smile of gratitude, I hit the elevator button for Uncle Monty’s floor and stepped inside with a yawn, curious to know what was so urgent.
When I stepped out, I didn’t need anyone to tell me what was so urgent. I saw for myself.
The short walk from Uncle Monty’s room to the elevator was strewn with all manner of medical debris. A bedpan lie on the floor, along with a toppled cart of medicine, now strewn across the tiles, colorful pills and the tiny plastic cups they divided them into all lining the halls.
I ran to my uncle’s room, my feet clapping loudly. Skidding to a halt, I grabbed the doorframe of his room, which was wide open.
His room was also a mess. The chair was toppled over, his TV tray tipped on its side.
And there were drops of blood on the floor.
His bed was surrounded by nurses and a doctor, making my heart crash in hard beats against my ribs.
“What the frack happened?” I had to fight not to scream the words.
“Miss Valentine?” a male voice said from behind.
I whipped around to find a fresh-faced police officer, the one I assumed had been watching my uncle this evening, staring down at me with a serious expression.
“There was an incident.”
“An incident?”
He nodded curtly. “Someone, dressed as hospital staff, got into your uncle’s room and tried to strangle him.”
Chapter 14
A Holly Jolly Christmas
Written by, Johnny Marks 1965
I sat by my uncle’s bed, forcing a smile to my face. His head was still bandaged with more gauze than I thought could possibly exist in all of Marshmallow Hollow, and his arms were bruised from the pokes of the needle for his IV.
“What can I get you, Uncle Monty. Do you need something to drink? More pain meds?”
“I need a fishbowl of tequila and a good Cuban cigar,” he groused. If my Uncle Darling was flamboyant and over the top, my Uncle Monty was practical and down-to-earth. He was the calm to Darling’s storm.
I ran my hand over the uninjured side of his forehead and giggled. “In light of the fact that Uncle Darling would probably skin me alive, there’ll be no booze for you, buddy, but I promise, if you get better soon, I’ll make you a margarita that’ll knock your support socks off.”
He gurgled a laugh and reached for my hand. “I do love you, kiddo. You know that, right?”
I looked at the angry red marks on his neck and tried to keep my rage in check. “I love you, too, and the next time you want to get me flowers? How about you just ask Uncle Darling to conjure them up?”
He laughed, then put his hand to his head. “Man, that smarts. I don’t think the old noggin’s ever going to be the same.”
“You sacred me to death, Uncle Monty,” I whispered with a sniffle.
“I scared me, too. But it’s okay, Hal, honey. What would a trip be without a little adventure?”
“I’d prefer your adventures didn’t land you in the hospital with major brain surgery.”
“I did a million shows on the road with testy drag queens who all have an opinion on their best light. You don’t think a little brain surgery’s going to get me down, do you?”
I shook my head with a soft laugh. “You need to get some rest, and so do I, because when Uncle Darling finds out someone attacked you, he’s going to spit an entire can of glitter hairspray. Now, before I go, can you tell me anything more than you told the police about this attack, or is that all you remember?”
He looked at me with tired eyes. “Just what I told them, Hal. I didn’t see anything until he had his hands around my neck and he was above me. Woke me up from a sound sleep. He wore a mask and one of those surgical caps, too.” Uncle Monty shook his head with a wince. “I don’t know how I managed to knock that vase of flowers on the nightstand over, but I’m thanking all the forces that be that I did. That nice kid outside came in here like a bat outta Hades. They fought just like you see on those cop shows, but he got away anyhow.”
According to the officer in charge of watching after my uncle, the man who’d done this had taken off after a skirmish. The police had searched the perimeter of the hospital and the surrounding areas, but had come up dry.
Of course, there’d be video from the hospital corridors, but how much help could it be if he wore a surgical cap and mask?
But make no mistake. That man wanted to kill my Uncle Monty for what he thought he knew. What he thought Uncle Monty saw. And I wasn’t going to let that happen. There had to be some kind of protection spell I could put on him to keep him safe.
Yet, the only one I knew of wouldn’t keep him from being strangled, or worse. I was a pretty decent witch given the right circumstances, but I wasn’t that boss.
“Did he say anything, Uncle Monty? Anything to give us an indication about who he is?”
“Nope, but he smelled like smoke. Just like that night. Remember it clear as day. Has to be the same guy who killed that kid and left me in the shape I’m in.”
“And you still can’t remember what happened that night…?”
“Not a blankety-blank thing, honey. I’m sorry. I wish I could help,” he said groggily. “I heard they brought that girl in here tonight. They’re saying she escaped him. Tough little cookie, that one is.”
The moment he mentioned Kerry Carver, my heart sped up with worry, even though I knew she was safe because the officer had assured me she and her room were heavily guarded.
Right now, I didn’t want to talk about anything other than him getting his rest. “How about you don’t worry about anything other than getting better so you can come see all the amazing things I’ve done at the house.”
“Can I go to the bathroom inside now?”
I barked a laugh then covered my mouth. The house had needed some updates, for sure, but not that many.
“You stop, or I’m going to have to accuse you of hanging around Uncle Darling and his flair for thespianism.” Leaning in, I gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Now, you sleep, and Darling will be here in the morning. I love you, Uncle Monty.”
But his eyes were already closing, his chest rising and falling peacefully.
I tucked the blanket under his chin and tiptoed out to find the officer in charge of looking after my uncle.
He was sitting on the chair again, the hallway no longer filled with debris, stoically watching his surroundings.
“Hi there. I’m Monty Danvers’s niece. Is there anything I can get you? A hot cup of coffee, maybe?”
Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m just sitting here feeling really bad that guy got in there in the first place. I’m sure sorry.”
But I held up a hand as I read his name tag. “No apology necessary, Officer Little. You can’t be expected to know all the staff.”
“I wish that made me feel better, but you can bet I’m going to keep an eagle eye on him now. Prom
ise you that.”
“I know you will.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t catch him, or maybe I can…” He shook his head in disbelief.
I felt like he needed to vent, so I asked, “What do you mean, maybe you can?”
“He fought like some kind of amped-up ninja—like an expert in something. Never seen anything like it. He was slippery as an eel. Got away from me and never looked back.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
Officer Little gave me a sheepish glance. “I think you know I can’t give you that information, Miss Valentine. But I’ll be honest when I say I didn’t see much. He had on a surgical mask and a cap and he was like some trained attack dog.”
I gave him a sympathetic look and shook his hand after thanking him again for looking out for my uncle, realizing there wasn’t much he could tell me without creating trouble for himself.
But when I walked down that hall, my stomach was somewhere around my feet. Someone wanted to kill my uncle.
Kill him.
And I had jack squat.
Cigarette smoke, a pink lipstick and an amped-up ninja. What did these three things all have in common?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing at all.
Covering my mouth as I sneezed, I trudged into the barn where Nana Karen slept peacefully, trying not to wake her. It was still early, but after getting back from the hospital and visiting my Uncle Monty, I figured there was no point in going back to bed.
It was chilly inside, the bales of hay stacked high in the corner, the floor creaking as I looked at the wide-open space with bleary eyes. I’d put a Christmas tree in here for Nana. In fact, we’d decorated it together.
She’d said it was silly, but I reminded her about how it was one of her favorite activities during the holidays, and I missed sharing it with her. She acquiesced, and we’d made a small tree in the corner together one night, while I sipped hot chocolate and let her have one of her beloved candy canes.
It twinkled in the early morning light, soft and white, with some of the decorations I’d made when I was little.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Witness Page 12