“Winston would agree with me,” she said, softening her tone. “He knows what it’s like to lose someone you love to murder.”
She glanced up to see Finn’s raised eyebrows. Someday she’d have to fill him in on Winston’s history. The fact that the cat had witnessed his previous owner’s murder was something few people knew. Veronica still didn’t like talking about it.
“I just want you to be safe and happy,” Ling insisted. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Veronica sighed. It was always the same old refrain. But if her mother was really concerned for her daughter’s happiness she should have more faith in her. Veronica felt the urge to say what she’d been thinking for so long.
Why don’t you trust me enough to tell me the truth about my father? How can I ever be happy if I don’t even know who I am?”
Turning her back on Finn, Veronica lowered her voice and spoke into the phone, not trying to hide the hurt.
“Try to have some faith in me for once, Ma,” she said, knowing it wasn’t the time or place to raise the subject of her father again.
The silence on the other end of the line brought a stab of remorse. Better just to apologize. She needed to get back to work, and it was easier to pretend she was fine. After all, she’d been doing it for years.
“I’m sorry, Ma, just forget about it. It doesn’t matter.”
Veronica tried to make the lie sound convincing.
“And I promise I’ll be careful. You’ll see, nothing’s going to happen to me.”
When she turned around Finn was staring at her with a curious expression. Veronica was relieved when he didn’t say anything about the call. He just picked up the camera, raised his hand, and began the countdown to go live.
Five, four, three, two, one…
“Good morning, Willow Bay. This is Veronica Lee reporting live from Kingston Road where a woman was attacked and killed earlier today. The Willow Bay Police Department is now searching for the suspected assailant who is still at large…”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The girl in the hospital bed pulled the thin blanket over her shoulders. She appeared to be shivering, although her skin looked pale and sweaty under a spattering of bruises. Nessa imagined the chill of the air conditioned room must be a shock to the girl’s system after the furnace-like conditions outside. Summoning a reassuring smile, Nessa stepped into the room.
“Hi, Alexandra, I’m Nessa Ainsley, Willow Bay’s chief of police.”
The girl’s puffy blue eyes widened in fear.
“Am I in trouble?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“No, of course you’re not in trouble.”
Nessa crossed to stand beside the bed, masking her surprise.
“I’m just here to make sure you’re okay, and I want to talk to you about what happened this morning.”
Dropping her eyes, the girl sunk deeper into the covers.
“Well, I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned her face away. “Besides, I already told the detectives everything I know.”
Nessa pointed to a chair by the bed.
“Do you mind if I sit down, Alexandra?”
“I guess not, but only if you stop calling me Alexandra.”
The petulant retort reminded Nessa of Cole’s tendency to pout whenever he wasn’t getting his own way. She hid a smile as she slid onto the chair and opened up her notebook.
“Okay, what should I call you, then?”
“Most of my friends call me Lexi, although my mom calls me Alex.” After a slight pause, she added, “I prefer Lexi.”
Nessa cleared her throat.
“Well, Lexi, I know from your earlier statement that you drove your car over to Kingston Road to see Molly Blair. Why’d you go over there this morning?”
“Molly called me.” Lexi’s voice was flat. “She asked me to come by right away. She didn’t say why.”
“What was the nature of your relationship?”
Lexi’s eyes darted around the room as if seeking an escape.
“We were…friends,” her voice quavered on the last word. “She started helping me out after my mother moved to Jacksonville.”
“Okay, I see.”
Nessa jotted a note in her book, but she wasn’t buying Lexi’s story. The emotion Lexi exuded when she spoke of Molly Blair was one of anger or resentment, not grief.
“So, Molly was kind of like a surrogate mother to you, then?”
Lexi’s mouth tightened into a thin line as she shrugged.
“Something like that,” she conceded.
“Then you must be pretty torn up that she’s gone.”
Reaching for a glass of water by the bed, Lexi ignored the question.
“I really just want to get out of here,” she said, sipping at the water. “I’m fine. I don’t know why they even brought me here.”
“The doctors want you to stay overnight for observation. They say you ingested a lot of water and might have blacked out during the…the incident. Best to keep an eye on you.”
Nessa had also overheard the nurses saying Lexi’s vital signs were unstable, but that wasn’t something she had been supposed to hear.
“I’d like to show you something, Lexi.”
Pulling out a thin laptop, Nessa opened it on her lap and clicked on an icon. Within seconds a video began to play. It showed an exterior door of the Riverview Hotel. Suddenly a young woman with pink hair charged through the door and disappeared into a gap in the wall. Almost immediately a man barreled out, running with his hooded head down. He flew past the gap in the wall without slowing, and the clip ended.
“That was footage from a security camera outside the Riverview Hotel,” Nessa said, watching Lexi’s face drain of all color. “And I think that young woman running out the door might be you.”
Shaking her head in denial, Lexi crossed her arms over her chest.
“I don’t know who that is, but she looks nothing like me.”
Nessa bit her lip, wondering what Lexi hoped to gain by lying.
She looks petrified. What or who could be scarier than the man who came storming out of the hotel after her? What is she hiding, and why?
Leaning back in the chair, Nessa studied Lexi’s face. Behind the fear and the bruises, she was a lovely young woman, with high cheek bones, big blue eyes, and a long, slender neck. But there was a vulnerable tilt to her chin, and her hands trembled as they clutched the blanket to her chest.
“I can see that you’re really scared, Lexi. And I don’t know why, or what might have happened to you before today. But if you tell me what’s wrong, I can try to help you.”
Nessa’s heart dropped as a guarded expression hardened Lexi’s face and she looked away with pursed lips.
“That man is still out there.” Nessa stood and crossed to the window. “He might be out there hurting someone else right now, and I may not be able to catch him if I don’t have your help.”
A frown appeared between Lexi’s eyes, and her hand trembled as she lifted the cup of water to her dry lips. She was just about to speak when a nurse came bustling in to review her chart, ignoring Nessa as she turned to her patient.
“How are you feeling, dear?”
“I’m okay,” Lexi replied in a shaky voice, “but I…I just need a little pain medicine and then I’ll be good to go.”
Peering at Lexi over her glasses, the nurse raised her eyebrows.
“What kind of pain are you experiencing?”
“My head, my back…” Lexi’s voice trailed off. “Just like…general pain. If you can give me something to help, I can get out of here.”
A sudden understanding clicked in Nessa’s brain. How had she missed the signs? The pale skin, trembling hands, and paranoid behavior were all signs she’d seen before in the addicts who were occasionally picked up for illegal or erratic behavior.
“A doctor would have to prescribe any medication.” The nurse put the chart back on the end of the
bed. “I’ll ask Dr. Ivanhoe to come see you. You can talk about a possible discharge then.”
Waiting for the nurse to disappear through the door, Nessa moved back to the side of the bed and stared down at Lexi.
“You don’t have to be scared of me, Lexi,” Nessa assured her in a low voice. “I’m not going to arrest you for anything you tell me in relation to the man in that video. I’m not worried about your drug use…other than to help you get help if you want it. But I am interested in finding the man who killed Molly Blair.”
Lexi glared up at Nessa with bitter eyes.
“You want to help me? That’s a laugh.”
Tears stood in Lexi’s eyes as she spit out the words.
“That’s exactly what Molly said before she hired me and got me hooked on pills. But she didn’t help me…she just used me. Just like you want to use me to catch that psycho.”
“I don’t want to use you, Lexi,” Nessa insisted, feeling her own anger rising. “I want to help you. But I also have a responsibility to protect the people in this town. If you know something that could save someone else’s life, you have to tell me.”
Dropping her tear-streaked face into her hands, Lexi let out a tortured moan. Her thin shoulders shook with emotion, and Nessa found herself leaning over to pull the girl into a consoling hug.
“It’s okay, honey,” Nessa soothed, running a soft hand over Lexi’s shirt blonde hair. “You’re going to be all right.”
Lexi let her head sag onto Nessa’s shoulder, and she sobbed like a little girl as Nessa waited for the storm to pass. Finally, Lexi raised her head and wiped at her eyes with the edge of the blanket.
“Molly ran an escort service and I was…one of her girls.” Her words were soft but edged with pain. “I went to the Riverview on Friday to meet a date. That’s what Molly called our clients.”
Nessa squeezed Molly’s hand but remained silent.
“When I was leaving down the stairs…I always used the stairs so security wouldn’t notice me…well, I heard these footsteps, and I looked up…”
Lexi’s voice faltered, and Nessa could see the fear on the girl’s face as she replayed the events in her head.
“He looked so angry. He started charging down toward me, so I just ran. I didn’t have time to think about it, but I knew he would hurt me if he caught me.”
“And you were able to slip away?”
“Yeah, I usually park on the side street. That way I don’t have to see anyone in the garage. I knew a shortcut and…I left. The next day I heard about that writer dying in the hotel, but I wasn’t sure…”
Nessa nodded her understanding.
“You couldn’t have known who he was or what he’d done.”
Sniffing back tears, Lexi shook her head.
“I didn’t know…I swear I didn’t. But then I saw him the next day outside the hotel, and I couldn’t help but think it could be related.”
Adrenaline shot through Nessa’s veins at the words.
“The man was still at the hotel the next day?”
Lexi nodded and the fear returned to her eyes.
“He was outside with the reporters and he saw me. I’m sure of it. But a car blocked my view and then he was gone.”
Lexi drew in a long, trembling breath.
“Next time I saw him I was at Molly’s house. He popped up behind me and said he had been waiting for me.”
Reaching for the water, Lexi took a sip, then started coughing. By the time she’d regained her ability to talk, she was sweating again, and her trembling had worsened. Nessa was tempted to call the nurse, but she still had questions.
“How do think the man found you?”
Lexi considered the question, then shrugged.
“Maybe he figured out why I was there and asked around. Molly makes arrangement with someone at the hotel, so, the man…the psycho…must have tracked her down to get to me.”
“Do you know who Molly’s contact was at the hotel?”
Shaking her head, Lexi grimaced and clutched at her stomach.
“I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Nessa reached for the nurse call button, feeling bad for pushing Lexi too hard. The girl needed help, and she needed protection. The rest of the questions would have to wait.
✽ ✽ ✽
Frankie Dawson was just coming through the hospital doors as Nessa was leaving. He took her arm and pulled her toward the lobby.
“How’s Lexi?” He sounded worried. “Is she staying overnight?”
Nessa shrugged, uncertain what Lexi would do.
“I know they want her to stay for observation, but I’m not sure Lexi will agree.”
Nessa hesitated, knowing she couldn’t tell Frankie about the girl’s addiction, but wanting him to understand how vulnerable she was.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into her,” Nessa said, looking at her watch. “I need to get back to the station. I wanted to have a sketch artist come by and work with Lexi. See if we can get a composite to put on the news.”
Frankie scratched his unshaven chin and frowned.
“You think the same guy that killed Molly Blair was involved with Portia Hart’s death?” Frankie asked. “You think it’s related?”
Not sure what she could say without compromising the investigation, Nessa decided to evade the question for the time being.
“Why are you so interested, Frankie?” she asked. “And why were you and Barker at Molly’s house anyway?”
“I’m trying to help the poor girl. She’s a fucking mess.” Frankie’s voice was indignant. “I saw her at the hotel on Saturday, and then Sunday morning she almost crashes into me and Barker when we were heading over to the office.”
Nessa snorted.
“You and Barker work Sundays now?”
“We do when insurance companies agree to pay us a big retainer.”
A lightbulb went on in Nessa’s head.
“Oh, right, Barker told me you guys were going to work for some guy looking into Portia Hart’s cause of death.”
“Yeah, Maxwell Clay from Sterlington Group or some shit like that. He was supposed to come to the office to sign the paperwork by ten this morning,” Frankie explained. “But I was worried when I saw Lexi’s Mustang weaving all over the fucking road, so I told Barker to follow her. We saw her Mustang parked in the alley and heard a scream. The rest is all in my statement.”
Deciding it was best to break the news to Frankie sooner rather than later, Nessa looked at her watch again and grimaced.
“Sorry to break the news to you like this, but that guy, Maxwell Clay? Well, we looked into him and it turns out he’s not an insurance investigator with Sterlington Trust.”
“He’s not an insurance guy?”
“Well, he is in insurance. He owns an independent agency, but he’s not with Sterlington and he’s not an investigator. Riley Odell did a quick background check on him and…well, he doesn’t check out.”
A flush turned Frankie’s face red. Nessa wasn’t sure if he was angry or embarrassed. Possibly both.
“I was actually planning on asking one of the detectives to look into his background and interview him today,” Nessa said, “but now that we’ve got this other homicide, resources will be stretched pretty thin. Maybe you and Barker can save me some time and get Maxwell Clay to tell you his real story.”
“Yeah, we’ll get that phony jerk to come clean,” Frankie agreed. “And then we’ll drop his ass for misrepresenting himself.”
Putting a hand on Frankie’s shoulder, Nessa spoke in a low voice.
“Would you do me another favor?” she asked. “Would you try to convince Lexi to stay here…at least overnight? If she insists on leaving I’ve asked Officer Ford to drive her home and assign a patrol car to keep watch over her house throughout the day.”
“You got it, Nessa,” Frankie agreed. “But the best way to protect Lexi is for you guys to find the fucker that attacked her.”
“We�
��re doing our best,” Nessa said, giving him a parting wave.
But as Nessa got in her Charger and headed back toward the station, she wasn’t sure that would be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Frankie stepped off the elevator and approached the nurse’s station, which stood guard between him and the patient rooms in the corridor beyond. He waited as a man in blue scrubs behind the counter scribbled onto a clipboard. Eventually the man paused and looked up at Frankie with raised eyebrows.
“Sorry to disturb you, Doc, but I’m here to see Lexi Marsh.” Frankie looked around as if she might be wandering the halls. “She’s a patient up here. Came in this morning.”
“Ms. Marsh hasn’t been cleared to see visitors,” the man said, returning his attention to his paperwork.
Unfazed by the curt dismissal, Frankie used his trump card.
“Actually, Doc, the chief of police has asked me to look in on Lexi. I’m a private investigator and she’s asked for my help.”
“I’m not a doctor,” the man said in a dry voice, not looking up. “I’m the head nurse on duty today, and if the police chief wants you to see a patient on this floor, then she’ll have to arrange for that in advance with the patient’s doctor.”
Frankie was about to open his mouth and try again, when he saw Andy Ford coming down the hall toward him. The uniformed officer frowned when he saw Frankie.
“Officer Ford, it’s good to see you,” Frankie said, throwing the nurse a sideways glance. “Nessa asked me to check in on Lexi, but the staff here won’t allow me through.”
“Chief Ainsley wants you to talk to Alexandra Marsh?” Andy looked doubtful. “She didn’t say anything about that to me.”
Frankie guided Andy to the side and lowered his voice, not wanting the hard-nosed nurse to intervene.
“I’m the one who found her, you know,” Frankie said, trying to look modest. “And she trusts me.”
“I don’t trust anyone, actually.”
Lexi’s voice directly behind him caused Frankie to jump. She was dressed in jeans and a tank top, and her pale face was marred by ugly bruises. She’d washed the sweat and grime off her face since he’d seen her outside Molly’s house, and her hair looked freshly washed.
Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller Page 13