“Did you say you were on the rig this morning?” Sheriff Doofus looked at me like I had three heads.
“Nope.” My ears roared when I shook my head.
Sebastian steered me by my shoulders to the Prius. “Can you get home on your own? This changes things.” He waved a hand toward the water. “We’ll talk later.”
“Sure,” I said.
He scrubbed a giant palm over his hair and exhaled. His face turned from mine to the explosion and back. “I can find Adrian to take you home. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m good.” I slid into the driver’s seat and stared through my windshield.
Sebastian pushed the Start button on my dash when I placed one foot on the brake and forgot the rest. He powered the windows down and shut my door. The sound roused my fuzzy thoughts. I buckled up for safety. He poked his head through my open window and kissed my cheek. “Stay put when you get home. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“’Kay.”
I backed out of the space and drove out of the park like my great-grandmother. Three fire trucks and another ambulance flew past me on my way through the forest.
I wasn’t ready to go home. I went straight to the Tasty Cream for a chocolate malt, but then I remembered it was still breakfast time, and I didn’t want breakfast or need coffee. My hands shook already. The thought of sitting in an empty apartment waiting for Sebastian terrified me. I didn’t want to think about what could happen to me alone in my apartment with all the local authorities out there on the beach. If the drowning related to Sebastian’s case and the giant explosion kinda confirmed it wasn’t an accident, he wouldn’t finish at the beach anytime soon.
Screw it. I sloughed off the mental safety blanket and forced clarity into my thoughts.
I pulled a U-turn on Main Street, confident local law enforcement was busy elsewhere. Four minutes later I circled the compact parking lot of Chincoteague Community Hospital. My eyes burned without sunglasses. The sun beat down on my world, bouncing off windshields and hospital windows until my head ached from squinting. A slow pounding at the base of my neck forced me to stop the car. I shifted into park and rubbed the knotted muscles. Whether I turned left or right, all the spaces were full until someone came out. If I’d had a better morning, I’d have parked on the street and walked over, but I hadn’t had a better morning. I’d had a morning made of suck and death.
Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr. An obnoxious car revved its engine in the distance. I twisted in my seat, looking for the moron. About fifty feet away, the equivalent of a demolition derby car torqued and rattled with each ear-splitting, neck-aching roar. The ugly thing probably couldn’t stay running without one foot on the gas pedal. Ahead of me an octogenarian couple with matching silver walkers scooted down the sidewalk from the ER into the parking lot. Thank goodness. A space. I shifted in my seat, getting comfortable.
Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr. Jeez. I leaned an elbow on my window frame and glared at the idiot with the crap car and muffler deficit. That couple’s spot was mine. I got there first.
Did this guy really need a black helmet with mirrored visor? Overkill much with the smashed-up car? The desperate attempt to prove his manliness was about as blatant as carrying a picture of his penis. No way he’d get the space. His beater pointed at my passenger door and the couple had already shuffled onto my driver’s side, though it was still unclear which car was theirs.
Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr.
My water-logged brain belatedly snapped into gear and fear whipped through me. A guy in a dark helmet and derby car were pointed right at me. I scanned the sidewalk for witnesses. A few early risers stopped to point at the car revving its engine. Adrenaline filled my limbs. Fight or flight overtook me. I needed flight, but the sudden bark of his tires shocked me into a statue imitation. My head whipped around and my brain misfired. The dented-up car rocketed toward me. The sound roared like a chainsaw.
Finally, my brain and foot communicated and I slammed my bare foot onto the gas. My car revved but didn’t move. Ah! I grabbed the gear shift and jammed it into drive as the beast of a vehicle barreled into me. My little Prius rocked onto two wheels and slammed down onto all four tires. Pain shot up from my shoulders into my head. Through the ringing in my ears, a dozen car alarms burst into a cacophony of stupid sounds.
Whooop! Whoop! Whoop!
Nee-ner-nee-ner!
Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk!
Orderlies rushed through the ER doors to the lot. The little old woman hung over the front of her walker. A rush of emotions flooded my vision. I blinked in desperation for clarity. The driver who T-boned me sat a few feet away hidden behind a helmet. Only the length of his smashed hood and the crescent shape of my car separated us. The passenger door tilted in on my right. The mammoth car backed up, rattling my car, which sputtered and died. No front plate. My chest constricted like a vise over my heart. If he came at me again, I was dead.
Dead. Death.
I clutched the front of my borrowed shirt and hoped my parents didn’t hear about their loss from a random tourist if I died. Or worse, some birder in a stupid shirt. I wasn’t even wearing any underwear.
“Miss!” A man in white stuck his arm through my window and yanked the latch.
The assailant angled out of the lot with another tire squeal. A line of spectators took pictures as he drove away.
A pair of strong arms slid around my back and hoisted me from the car. Another man pushed a gurney to our side. Together they lifted me up and strapped me down. More pen lights and questions. We bumped up the curb to the sliding ER doors and I gasped. Pain! My head! My neck!
“Patience?” A blonde’s face bobbed over mine. The paramedic from the beach.
“Ow.” I moaned and someone clamped an oxygen mask over my face.
“Can I call someone for you?” Her soft southern accent warmed me.
I nodded.
“Adrian Davis maybe?”
I frowned.
“Or that FBI man?”
“No.” I pulled the mask up like a headband and fished the cell from my pocket.
They wheeled me into a bay in the emergency room.
“Hey, now. Hold still until we get a scan of your neck and shoulders.” She slid a board under my back and wrapped my neck in foam before moving me to a bed.
I twisted my cell against my ear. It wouldn’t fit properly with the neck brace. “Skype.” I held the phone toward the woman. She hit the screen a few times and hooked me up to some machines.
“I’m going to check your vitals and the doctor will be here in a few minutes. No cell phones in the ER.”
I lifted the phone in front of my face with the arm not screaming in pain at the shoulder and tapped Claire’s face with a thumb. The EMT frowned and left but didn’t take my phone.
“Good lord in heaven! What happened?” Claire stretched toward the camera, adjusting her laptop screen. Thank goodness she was at work. The close-up isolated her bright green eye shadow and curly black lashes.
“Everything.” I gave her the CliffsNotes version of my morning along with a description of the car who hit me.
“I’m on it. Is Sebastian with you?”
“No. He’s meeting me at my apartment later. “ I sniffled and a tear rolled over one cheek.
“You need anything?”
“Yeah. Some scans, prescription pain killers and a long talk with the pathologist.”
“Mmm. I’m going to call Sebastian.�
�� Claire disconnected when the doctor arrived. I made a mental list of questions for the pathologist. I wasn’t leaving the hospital without talking to her.
Chapter Nine
Jennie McIntyre’s office smelled as bleachy clean as it looked. Tall and slender in her lab coat and heels, Jennie crossed and uncrossed her legs from behind an immaculate desk. Long sun-streaked hair hung over her shoulders. Aside from her natural tan and red lipstick, she wore only black-rimmed nerd glasses. I hated her. The naughty librarian look was one I aspired to and failed at achieving when I had a desk. My hair never stayed in the messy bun. The glasses slid off my nose or fogged from coffee. This lady nailed it. If I wasn’t planning to pry into her personal life, I’d invite her for coffee with Claire and me. Claire loved the chic geek look as much as I did.
I sat straighter and concentrated. Not an easy task. My focus was divided. The padded whiplash collar itched worse than the EMT blankets. I didn’t have whiplash, but the doctor had insisted the added stability would help with the pain. I laced my fingers together. Tugging on my collar would remove authority points.
“James Trent drowned this morning.” I shifted in my seat, chastising myself for my tactless approach. The pain meds affected me in unfortunate ways. On the elevator ride down to the morgue, I’d pushed every button inside the door. The man sharing my ride had stepped away.
“I’m aware of that,” Jennie said. She blinked several times and looked away.
I scanned the window wall on my left. Jennie’s desk overlooked the lab portion of the morgue. Good grief. Was Mr. Trent in there? Where else would he be? Images of him dashed in sand curled my stomach.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Turning my attention back to Jennie, I crossed my legs. Connecting with the subject required more than my mushy brain could manage, so I settled for mimicking her body language. I sent her some good vibes. Look at us acting all alike.
“This morning.”
“Before or after he died?” I leaned forward in my seat and gave my best “trust me, I’m a therapist” look.
“Are you okay?” She leaned forward as well. “Your eye’s twitching.”
Oh. I raised a hand to my face. It felt like moving a two-by-four through JELL-O. Pain medication and I didn’t work well together. I’d spent five hours at the hospital getting checked out and waiting my turn for scans and x-rays. I was there so long my parents came to visit twice.
“Is that a hospital band on your wrist?”
I covered the band with my opposite hand. After all those hours in the ER, they finally let me leave with a prescription for rest and ibuprofen as needed. Nothing fractured or broken, only a few overstretched neck and back muscles. Possibly some latent psychological reactions I’d consider later as symptoms presented.
“Who did you say you are?” Jennie asked.
“I’m Patience Price. I found James this morning.”
Her curious expression fell, taking all pretense of professionalism with it. Could she care about James even though he just got to town? Funny how people attached to one another and sometimes it stuck. Sometimes they washed ashore the next morning.
Jennie bit into a short, unpolished fingernail. I’d missed the slight tremor in her hands while they lay folded in her lap.
“We met at First Friday and hung out all evening. I went home with him afterward. We had fun, you know?” A blush crept across the sprinkle of freckles on her nose. Worried blue eyes appraised me. “He was fine when I left. I thought he’d passed out. He drank a lot during karaoke.”
I nodded, urging her to continue.
“I shouldn’t have left him without checking.” A tear squeezed over one eyelid. She swiped it away with trembling hands. “I’ll never know if I could’ve helped him.”
“You think it was an accident? Alcohol poisoning?” What? Speak, woman.
Her head shook short and fast. “I don’t know how he ended up in the water, but he drowned after he was poisoned.”
“Poison?” Didn’t I just ask that question? I glanced at the clock on the wall. How long until the pain killers wore off? Depended on when they administered them. I didn’t recall swigging any capsules. It took a minute to realize the nurse could’ve put anything in my IV. My neck barely hurt.
“Not alcohol poisoning.” She inhaled, steadying her feet on the ground. Something huge was coming.
“You examined him?” Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.
“Along with the alcohol, we found doll’s-eyes, Chincoteague blueberries, sugar and tap water.”
“He ate Doll’s-eyes?” He choked on doll’s-eyes? I watched those weird fetish shows on reality television, but yikes. Normally people collected the doll’s-eyes; they didn’t eat them.
“Doll’s-eyes are the pretty white flowers you see in so many gardens along the East coast, also known as white baneberry. Too many children die every year from ingestion of the little plant buds. They’re sweet, so it’s likely he didn’t notice anything strange mixed with the other things in his stomach. He munched on the bowl of berries all the way to the rig. He passed out a little while after we got on board. I took the opportunity and left, thankful I didn’t do anything stupid. We didn’t know each other well enough for me to stay, you know?” A sob escaped and she pressed a wad of tissues to her eyes, knocking the little cube-shaped box onto the floor. “I did do something stupid though, didn’t I? I left him.”
“You couldn’t know.” The look in her eyes warned me I’d missed the real story. “Sugar water and blueberries.” Ice settled in my heart. My dad doled out his mystic sugar water to everyone that night and Mom sold cups of fresh berries with pretty floral garnishes at First Friday from June to November. She knew which flowers were edible and which were poisonous. She’d never make a mistake like that and everyone knew it. People knew Mom wouldn’t make a mistake, but would anyone believe she could intentionally poison someone?
“I sent the initial findings to Sebastian Clark about twenty minutes ago.”
I raced to the parking lot, dialing my dad. A man in coveralls shoved a massive push broom over the asphalt where my car had taken its last breath. From the amount of green-tinted glass, and the size of his wheeled trash can, the insurance company wouldn’t replace this Prius without a fight. How many cars did one girl need in three months?
Apparently, three.
No answer on Dad’s cell phone. I dialed the Purple Pony and hobble-jogged toward Main Street, thankful for the replacement outfit and shoes Mom delivered during her second visit. I was already pissed that Sebastian had sent the police station receptionist to the hospital for my official statement. Frankie had apologized on his behalf when she arrived to question me. He and the sheriff weren’t finished with whatever they did after an explosion.
I’d stifled a tirade. I was hit by a freaking car. Boyfriends came to the ER after something like that. Thankfully, we zipped through the paperwork. Of course, my statement lacked useful details. A guy in a helmet rammed a beater car into me after revving the engine. The end. Probably the town flash mob had a better description of the car than I did. She interviewed the crowd outside watching maintenance cleanup, but no one had followed him and the car didn’t have a plate.
I shook away the memory as a bead of sweat trickled from under my padded neck brace and inched into my cleavage. I squinted against the sun. The sight of Sebastian’s Range Rover on the curb outside the Pony pulled my feet into a fevered sprint. Under the haze of medication and a blanket of intense humidity, my head hurt with every impact of my feet on concrete. Worst. Day. Ever.
I wrenched the glass door to the Purple Pony open and received a blast of icy air over my sweaty shoulders. Three faces turned to me. Half the lights were out. Only Sebastian and my parents occupied the store.
“We’re closed, Peepee.” Dad clipped his sentence, ran his gaze o
ver me and flew to my side. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I flopped into a pile of bean bags in the children’s book area and fought for a complete breath. “Sebastian. You can’t. Please don’t.”
“It’s fine, sweetie.” Mom lowered her graceful body beside me and pushed the hair from my face. “Oh, you’re burning up. We need to take her back to the hospital. Can we stop on our way to jail?”
I shoved my elbows beneath me, lifting my torso in objection. “Ahh!” Pain screamed through my neck.
“Here.” Dad presented a glass of water and my heart stopped.
I glared at Sebastian. He had the decency to look apologetic, standing over my family. Ready to arrest them.
“I got here five minutes ago. I planned to bring them to you before taking them in. They understand this is protocol. So should you.” If there was regret in his tone, I couldn’t hear it over the blood whooshing in my ears.
“They didn’t kill anyone,” I screamed, wishing he stood close enough to hit with something.
“He knows.” Mom patted my arm. Dad drank the water and set the cup aside. My stomach lurched.
“Sheriff Fargas wanted to pick them up. He let me come as a favor. I’ll stay with them the entire time they’re questioned and bring them home the minute they’re released.”
“Released? What’s happening right now? Are they already under arrest, or are you taking them in for questioning first? Anyone could’ve added doll’s-eyes to those berries.” My voice inched toward hysterics.
Sebastian dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“You have rights.” I grabbed Mom’s shoulders. “You had no motive for hurting James Trent. They can’t arrest you for suspicion or circumstantial evidence. James was drunk and anyone could’ve fed him the eyes.”
“We had a little fight,” Dad said.
“What?” My chin swung in the direction of my father. “Ow!” I rubbed my neck and cringed as my shoulders attacked my ears.
Sebastian put one hand on Dad’s shoulder in a supportive gesture. “A dozen witnesses confirmed. Your parents argued with Mr. Trent at First Friday.” Sebastian’s eyes were underscored in purple crescents. I wasn’t the only one losing sleep.
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