by Gale Deitch
“Are you okay to drive?” he asked.
“I-I think so.”
“Okay, then turn on your speaker so we can talk until you get home.”
Daniel was waiting by the open door when I arrived. He helped me out of the car and gathered me up in his arms. “You’re trembling. Let’s get you inside.” He walked me into the bedroom, helped get me undressed and into his soft flannel shirt, the one I loved to sleep in. Then he covered me up and laid down next to me, his arm drawing me close.
“It was that woman again.” My teeth chattered as I spoke. “The one with the silver car and the platinum blonde hair. Belinda Scott.”
“Shhhh.” Daniel pulled the blanket up to cover my shoulders. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep.” I rolled onto my back and felt a stabbing pain. I folded my arms across my ribs. “I think something is broken.”
He sat up. “I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
“I don’t think…” I turned my head toward Daniel and brought my hand up to my neck. “Ouch. I might have whiplash, too.”
“That’s it. We’re getting you to the hospital now.” He helped me put on sweatpants under the shirt.
“What about Belinda Scott?” I asked as he walked me to his car. “I know it was her.”
“I’m contacting Will to check it out.”
“Good,” I said, careful not to joggle my body too much as he helped me into the passenger seat.
At the emergency room, I discovered that having a police detective fiancé opened doors much more quickly. Daniel was a known entity at the ER for the many times he’d been there questioning victims or perpetrators. The staff not only knew him by name but also knew who I was and proceeded as if I were a visiting dignitary, escorting me to a room within minutes followed by x-rays and scans to determine the damage to my body.
No sooner had I been returned to my room in the ER than a doctor came in with the results. The gray in his temples assured me he was older and most likely more experienced. In the wee hours of the morning, I’d expected a young intern learning the ropes.
“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Daniel asked, the creases in his forehead deepening.
The doctor smiled at me. “You’re a lucky young woman. A few bruised ribs and a minor case of whiplash. I’m going to prescribe a painkiller to get you through the next few days. Beyond that, apply ice to both areas and get some rest.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled my relief but was cut short by the pain that pierced my chest. “Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s pretty painful and hard to breathe.”
“It will most likely hurt for a few weeks. But the meds will help. You’ll be fine.”
He turned to leave, and Daniel shook his hand. “Thanks, Doc. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
A nurse came in to help me dress, and Daniel stepped out of the room to take a call.
When he came back in, he said. “Well, according to Will, your attacker was not Belinda Scott.”
“But it looked just like her. That platinum hair. The silver car.”
He nodded. “Yes, she is a platinum blonde, and she has a silver car. But there was no damage to her front bumper. Not even a scratch. Her car couldn’t have bumped yours twice with such force without causing any damage. Of course, we’re checking traffic cameras to see if we can get a read on the license plate.”
“Well if it wasn’t Belinda then who was it?”
“Someone with a silver car and a wig, I suppose.”
Of course. Anyone could have put on a wig to make me think it was Belinda. What about Myra? But after spending a couple of pleasant days helping her, I didn’t think she could be a murderer. A man could also wear a wig. Albert Burger or even…Ben Knight. He had a silver rental car. I shook my head. No, not Ben. He was trying to help find the murderer and prove Ally’s innocence. Wasn’t he?
“Let’s get you home,” Daniel said. He helped me out of the bed and onto my feet.
A thought occurred to me. Whoever it was had hit me pretty hard. Twice. For the first time, I wondered what the impact might have done to my precious orange Honda. “What about my car? Any damage?”
He hesitated and shook his head. “The rear bumper and the trunk are both caved in and probably beyond repair, not to mention some other unseen damage. I hate to say this, Trudie, but your car may have been totaled.”
“Totaled? No. I’ve had that car since college. She’s like a member of my family. I don’t want a new car. I can’t even afford a new car.”
“Let’s not worry about this now. We’ll call your insurance company when they open to report the incident and get an estimate on the damage. It might not be so bad. Although I’d feel a lot more comfortable with you driving a newer car.”
“I’ll have you know that car has been nothing but reliable all these years. Never had a bit of trouble with her.”
“Yes, but wouldn’t it have been better if you were able to call me or 9-1-1 on a voice-activated phone while someone was attacking you last night?”
I had to admit he was right. I would have called him as I was leaving work if I’d had that capability. And definitely would have called when I realized I was being followed.
A nurse wheeled me to the entrance and waited with me until Daniel pulled up in his car. I felt a bit unsteady on my feet, but they both helped me into the car. The medicine I’d been given was beginning to take effect, but every movement, even short breaths, caused sharp pain. Once in the passenger seat, I closed my eyes hoping to fall asleep, but each jerk of the car had me gasping.
At home, Daniel helped me into bed and brought ice packs for my bruised ribs and neck. When the pain began to dull, he brought me a tray with tea and toast. Pye settled in on one side of me, and Daniel sat next to me on the other side.
“The thing I’m wondering,” he said, “is why this person is stalking and attacking you. Why would they perceive you as a threat?”
I could tell Daniel was attempting to be tactful so as not to upset me. I wanted to be honest with him and knew he wouldn’t be happy with the truth. But I had to tell him.
I decided to be blunt. I turned to face him. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but Ben and I have been going through the list of suspects to determine who killed Gwendolyn Chong and to prove Ally’s innocence.”
“Ben and I?” His eyes widened and his face turned red. “Ben and I?” He stood and began to pace the room then stopped and held both hands out to me. “Trudie, how many times have I told you not to get involved with murder suspects? Can’t you see how dangerous this is? You’re a walking target for someone.”
“But don’t you see that this proves Ally’s innocence? She is not the murderer. Someone else is.”
“If that’s true, let the police do their job. We have a little more experience than you in confronting suspects. And how do you know it wasn’t Ally who wore that wig and rammed your car? She also has a silver car, doesn’t she?” He sank down onto the bedroom chair and shook his head, his face still crimson.
“No,” I said, attempting to sit up, but assaulted by a stroke of pain. “Ally would never try to hurt me. And if you police are so experienced, you would never have arrested Ally and accused her of the murder in the first place, and I wouldn’t have felt compelled to get involved.”
He stood and walked over to the bed, leaning down to me. His face was so close to mine that I could feel the heat of his breath. “Alternatively, how do you know that Ben Knight, your so-called partner in this investigation, is not the murderer?”
I choked back a sob causing a sharp stab in my chest. Then everything seemed to tumble toward me at once—the frightening incident in the car, the pain, the hospital visit, my damaged car, a murder investigation that wasn’t going anywhere, Daniel’s up-close confrontation, and the possibility that he might be right. Ben Knight could be the murderer. It was all too much. Too many unknowns when all I wanted to do was help my friend.<
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I began to sob, setting off an eruption of more pain.
“Oh, baby,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. But you’ve got to be careful and not take chances that will lead to trouble.” He laid down next to me and, knowing he couldn’t embrace me, leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead.
This made me cry all the more. The one thing I needed was Daniel’s arms around me, his warmth and comfort, something my injuries prevented. He continued to speak soft and loving words that gradually calmed me.
“How are you going to find out who attacked me last night?” I asked.
“Don’t worry. Will is checking out several suspects’ cars for damage to their front bumpers. Whatever it takes, we’re going to find out who did this to you.”
I hiccupped a few last painful tears, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
When I woke, Daniel had left me a tray with orange juice to take my pain meds, an insulated mug of hot tea and a fresh croissant with jelly. He’d also left a note. Trudie, call me when you wake up. I love you. Daniel.
“Thank you for leaving breakfast for me,” I said when he answered his phone. “How do
you feel this morning?”
I inhaled a tentative breath. The pain had dulled. “It’s eased up a little.”
“Good,” he said. “Promise me you’ll stay home and take it easy today?”
Even though he couldn’t see me, I held up a hand as a pledge. “I promise. My car isn’t in any shape to drive anyway, so you don’t have to worry.” I was still freaked out by what had happened last night. I planned to stay put.
After breakfast, I eased myself out of bed and went into the living room to relax on the sofa and read more of Hammered Halls. I patted the cushion as a signal for Pye to jump up and snuggle next to me. Instead he leaped up onto the book, which I’d left open, and began pawing at the pages as if digging himself a comfortable bed. Not only was he losing my place where I’d left off, but he might damage Mom’s copy of the book.
“Pye, what are you doing?” I said, half expecting the cat to answer me.
He glanced up at me then continued digging through the book until finally deciding on a page and plopping down on it, spreading his paws out front and back and totally covering the book. If I’d wanted to do some reading, Pye wasn’t having any of that. He wanted my undivided attention.
I laughed, causing a painful stitch in my chest then caught my breath. I’d have to be more careful. I reached over and ran my fingers through Pye’s coat. “All right,” I said. “I’m all yours today.”
I picked up the remote and tuned in to an episode of The Pioneer Woman on the Food Network. Watching her, I wondered what it would be like to live on a ranch with my husband and kids on acres of land somewhere out West, far from danger. Today, she was in her kitchen smiling calmly, preparing lunch for a bunch of hungry ranch hands who’d be arriving any moment. Cooking and trouble-free.
I leaned my head back against the sofa cushion and must have fallen asleep because when I woke, a different episode showed The Pioneer Woman making dozens of chicken sandwiches she would be delivering to her son’s football team, along with homemade sweet potato chips, cookies, and drinks. She was still smiling and still calm.
I reached over to pet Pye, but he had disappeared to some other spot, leaving the book open, the exposed page pleated with folds. I pulled the book onto my lap and attempted to smooth out the creased page. As I ran my hand along the page, the words caught my attention…rammed into the car’s bumper…causing it to lurch forward….” I inhaled a sharp breath and turned to the beginning of the chapter, reading quickly through the pages. Yes, I was beginning to remember, threads of the story I’d read ten years before coming back to me. A person in a car, wearing a wig to conceal their identity and to transfer the blame to another. Purposely slamming into someone who was getting too close to solving the murder. Running them off the road.
My focus on the book was intense now as I skimmed through the pages, determined to get to the end and discover the murderer. Who was it? Who? I couldn’t remember and had to find out. Who and why?
My phone rang.
“Trudie, I’m having contractions,” the shaky voice said. “And they’re getting closer together.”
“Katie?” I stood and dropped the book on the floor. “Did you call Will?”
“I tried, but I can’t reach him.”
“What about May?” I asked.
“She’s at the restaurant, and I don’t want to bother her. What should I do?”
“You should go to the hospital. That’s what you should do. How far apart are the contractions?”
“About five minutes the last time I checked, but I think they’re getting closer. I’m scared, Trudie.”
I didn’t know anything about childbirth or contractions, but I’d seen TV shows with women about to give birth. Five minutes or less sounded pretty close to me. “Hold on,” I said. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twelve minutes.” Twelve minutes would mean two or three more contractions, and hopefully they wouldn’t get much closer than that until I got her to the hospital.
I grabbed my car keys and purse and scurried out the door, sharpening the pains in my chest. I couldn’t let that slow me down. But as I approached my car, I stopped dead in my tracks. The back fender and trunk resembled a misshapen funnel cake that had gone awry in the fryer. For now, that didn’t matter. The car was drivable, and I needed to get to Katie. I eased myself into the driver’s seat and pulled on my seatbelt, the turning of my head and my twisting torso causing stabbing pain in my neck and chest.
Again, I wished I had a newer car with Bluetooth so I could get in touch with Daniel using voice activation. But I couldn’t take the time to call or text him now as every minute wasted was precious. I pulled out of the driveway and headed to May’s house to get Katie.
I let myself in the front door and yelled to Katie.
“Trudie, hurry. The contractions are really close.”
The scream that then emerged from upstairs couldn’t possibly have come from meek little Katie. I flew up the stairs, oblivious of the pain streaking through my body.
She was breathing hard now.
“Let me help you out of bed and we’ll get you to the hospital,” I said.
“No. I think the baby’s coming. My water broke.”
“The baby’s coming now?” That can’t be happening.
“I think so.” Holding her stomach, her breaths exploded into another intense scream.
I grabbed my phone from my purse and called 9-1-1. “Emergency,” I said. “A baby is being born right now. We need an ambulance, quick.” I spouted out the address.
“Help is on the way.” The calmness in the woman’s voice reminded me of The Pioneer Woman, serene and smiling as she produced food for an army.
“You don’t understand,” I said. “It’s happening now, and I don’t know anything about delivering a baby.”
“You’ll be fine,” the woman said. “I’ll help you through it step by step, just like following a recipe.”
A recipe? Maybe this was The Pioneer Woman on the other end of the line. I peered at Katie. She was in agony, her eyes wide and glassy. I drew back my shoulders. I can follow a recipe. I can do this.
“Okay, what do I do first?”
“You’re going to need a few things. Some clean towels or sheets, a shoelace, string or dental floss, a pair of scissors.”
Like following a recipe, I thought. Gather all your ingredients first. Mise en place. This, and the woman’s voice, calmed me and gave me focus. I’d stayed with May a few months ago and knew her house well. I grabbed a stack of towels and sheets from the linen closet, scissors from a drawer in the den, and dental floss from the bathroom.
“Okay, what now?” I asked, pressing the speaker button on the phone.
“Scrub your hands well with soap and water. Then put a clean sheet or towel under the
patient’s bottom.”
As I followed her directions, Katie began to breathe hard again, pursing her lips and forcing air in and out. “Will is supposed to be here with me,” she said through her teeth. “He took the class and knows what to do.” Then she let out another agonizing scream.
“Put the phone where the patient can hear me, too. What’s her name?” The Pioneer Woman asked.
“Katie. Will the ambulance be here soon?” I asked, putting the phone on the night table next to the bed.
“Yes, very soon. What’s your name?”
“Trudie.”
“You’re doing a great job, Trudie. How far apart are the contractions now?”
“They’re close. Maybe a minute or two.”
Katie let out another scream, even louder than before.
“I guess they’re closer than I thought,” I said.
“Katie, can you hear me?” asked The Pioneer Woman.
“Y-yes,” Katie said, her voice trembling.
“Good. Katie, next time you have a contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can, okay?”
“Okay.” Katie turned to me, her eyes wide and forehead damp with sweat.
I glanced at the supplies I’d gathered. “What are the dental floss and the scissors for?”
“You’ll only need them in case the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck.”
“What? But wouldn’t that strangle the baby?”
“Don’t worry. If it comes to that, and it probably won’t, I’ll tell you what to do. And Trudie, be sure to let me know when you see the baby’s head. Okay?”
The baby’s head. No. I didn’t want to deliver a baby. What if the cord was wrapped around its neck? I’d do something wrong. I couldn’t deliver a baby. I began to breathe almost as hard as Katie and backed away from her bed. I shook my head. I couldn’t do this.
“Trudie? Did you hear what I said? You have to tell me when you see the baby’s head.”
“Yes, I heard you. But I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Yes, you can. This is Katie’s baby. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”