The Decorator Who Knew Too Much

by Diane Vallere

  I parked in a lot identified as visitor parking and Emma was out of the car before I’d put on the emergency brake. I caught up with her and cut off her path before we entered. “Hudson told me they took Jimmy one way and him another. Once we go inside, we’re probably not going to see each other. Is there anything you need to tell me? Anything you know about what happened today or—just—anything?”

  Her face had gone from the ghostly pale I’d seen in the car to flushed red. She was on the verge of crying again, but was trying hard to hold herself together. She grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them. “Everything happening around here is my fault.”

  “Emma, this isn’t your fault. You weren’t anywhere near the guys today. You don’t even know what happened. Try to be strong. Two men you love are in there and for all we know, they’ll be examined and sent on their way with a bottle of painkillers. Don’t jump to conclusions,” I said.

  But the men wouldn’t be sent home with a warning to rest and a bottle of painkillers. Hudson had a mild concussion. Jimmy had a collapsed lung and two cracked ribs. They were both admitted overnight with no immediate plans for release.

  EIGHTEEN

  I had more than enough experience with hospitals to make me hate them. My first memory was from the time I tore my ACL while skiing away from the man I thought I’d spend my life with. In twenty-four hours I went from receiving a proclamation of his love to the news he was married, then to two dozen pink and yellow roses delivered with a note that said, “I’m sorry. I need more time.” It turned out his personal demons beat out his desire to make it up to me.

  My most recent hospital stay had come after the life-threatening fight that caused my nightmares. The physical injuries sustained had been temporary. Hudson had looked after me during those first few weeks. My reliance on sedatives to sleep through the night had approached addiction. The nightmares had started when I stopped taking the pills. The only reason I’d held out on telling Hudson about the pills, the flashbacks, and the nightmares was because I didn’t want to take away how much it had meant to know he’d been there for me.

  The Desert Regional Medical Center was more architecturally interesting than any of the hospitals I’d stayed at, but the smell was the same. It conjured up thoughts of tongue depressors and cotton swabs with a faint antiseptic cherry overlay. My throat constricted and I forced a dry swallow.

  Emma and I were updated on the condition of the men shortly after arriving. A man in white scrubs volunteered to escort Emma to Jimmy’s bed. As I had no official relationship to Hudson other than girlfriend (a term that felt far too awkward to use considering my age), I was told to find a seat and wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  Two hours passed. The assortment of people in the waiting room thinned out. I exhausted the entertainment factor of my phone and finally went out front to check in on Rocky.

  “This is Madison Night,” I said when Officer Buchanan answered. “How’s Rocky?”

  “He’s a sweet dog. Kinda changes things around the office. Don’t tell anybody, but I took a secret video of some of the guys playing fetch with him. Should be good for the annual holiday party.”

  I pictured how Tex and Hudson had both been charmed by Rocky. “He has that effect on people,” I said.

  “How are the men?”

  “I don’t know details. I don’t even know what happened. They told us Jimmy has broken ribs and a collapsed lung and Hudson has a mild concussion. Neither one is getting out tonight. Emma’s with Jimmy, but they won’t let me back to see Hudson.”

  “Let me make a phone call. I’ll see what I can do.”

  The officer’s offer surprised me, but I wasn’t about to question his motivation. “Thank you,” I said. A moment passed and then I inquired about his investigation. “Have you determined anything about the body? The identity or the cause of death?”

  “The identity hasn’t been released yet, but the cause of death was drowning.”

  “That’s horrible.” I waited a few moments, expecting him to tell me more. He did not. “I should go back into the waiting room in case they change their mind about Hudson having visitors. I appreciate anything you can do to make that happen.”

  “I’m on it.”

  I thanked him again and went back inside. Omar, the same orderly who had attended to my tetanus shot needs, approached me. “Madison, how’s the leg?”

  “Better. A few more days under a Band-Aid and it’ll be good as new.”

  He chuckled. “Watch out. That Band-Aid is going to leave you with some funny tan lines.”

  “Good thing I use sunscreen.” I looked at the desk where I’d had no luck getting information about Hudson. “Can you help me get an update on a patient?”

  “Who?”

  “Hudson James. He’s the one who brought me the other day.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s getting a tetanus shot too. I should have given you the two-for-one special.” He smiled.

  I tried to match his expression, but my face felt frozen. “Not exactly. He came in a couple of hours ago with another guy. I don’t know who brought them or what happened. Nobody will tell me anything.”

  “Follow me.” Omar led me to the nurses’ station and said something to the woman behind the counter. She looked at him, then at me, and then at him again, this time nodding. She pointed behind her and Omar looked up at the gray doors. “He’s in the ER waiting room. Come on. I’ll take you back to see him.”

  I put my phone in my pocket and followed him. We passed through heavy doors the shade of silly putty. They swung shut behind us. He turned left and then used a small ID card to scan us into a wing not open to the public.

  “Crazy thing happened to your friends,” Omar said. “There’s a rough crowd out by the Salton Sea. They’re not known to mess with people during the day, but the way Mr. James told it to the police, it was like they were waiting for them.”

  “Who?”

  “Benji Nalder’s gang.”

  Benji Nalder. Aside from the face-off at the quarry, he was like a ghost at the fringes of our time in Palm Springs. I’d wanted to see the confrontation at the quarry as an isolated incident, but I couldn’t, not now. I’d gotten out of there before Benji got physical, but he’d used intimidation tactics to scare me. And now it seemed he and his gang had been responsible for jumping Hudson and Jimmy in Salton, which meant my omission of information could have prevented the attack. I’d been defensive after Jimmy accused me of playing the victim. What had they been doing in the quarry and what did it have to do with the attack on the men today?

  Omar continued. “A couple of them have been arrested for possession of drugs, but Benji always manages to stay in the clear. Last year some kids came in here high as a kite, said they bought the stuff from him. They died in the ER. Benji doesn’t come around Palm Springs anymore. The cops are so desperate to get something on him they’d probably push him into an intersection and arrest him for jaywalking.”

  We went through another set of doors. To the left of us was a row of curtained off beds. To the right was a large U-shaped area where several hospital personnel worked. Omar walked to the second curtain on the left and pulled the fabric back. “Mr. James, you have a visitor.”

  Aside from the backdrop of the hospital bed, the heart monitor machines, and the bleached white linens, Hudson looked much the same as the last time I’d seen him. Instead of a bandana tied over his black hair, it was white gauze. His black T-shirt had been replaced by a hospital gown. There was a small cut over his left eye, held shut with two butterfly bandages, and a bruise on his cheek below. His bottom lip appeared to be slightly fuller than usual. I moved to his side, held my left index finger to my lips, and then transferred a kiss to his. He flinched almost imperceptibly. His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip and I noticed a small cut there as well.

  “How
are you feeling?” Omar asked Hudson.

  “Great. They gave me some painkillers about half an hour ago and I think I’m starting to hallucinate.” He looked at me. “I could swear my girlfriend is standing next to the bed.”

  I took his hand and he ran his thumb back and forth over my fingers.

  “If you need anything, press the call button,” Omar said. “Someone should be by to move you in the next hour or so. We’re just waiting on an available bed.”

  Omar left. I pulled a gray plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked.

  “I’d rather talk about you,” Hudson said. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I couldn’t ignore that Hudson avoided details of his attack in much the same manner I’d avoided telling him about what had happened to me. “You’re the one in a hospital bed, not me,” I said gently. “Just think, if you hadn’t convinced them to keep you overnight, you might have gotten the Florence Nightingale treatment.”

  “Doris Day never played a nurse,” he said.

  “Shows what you know. The Doris Day Show, season four. She impersonates a nurse on one of the Peter Lawford episodes.” I held my hands up to my head. “She wore a cute little hat and everything.”

  “I should have known.” A smile flashed across his face but then disappeared almost immediately. As close as I felt to Hudson, I became aware of the distance between us. He’d been attacked by the same people who had approached me at the quarry. I had to come to terms with the fact that my life wasn’t just about me anymore.

  “This is not what I had in mind when I asked you to come with me to Palm Springs,” he said. He raised his hand to his lip and touched it, and then looked at his fingers as if expecting to see blood. He picked up my hand with his other hand and held it.

  “Really?” I said lightly. “And here I thought you were making sure we had an exciting time.”

  The smile returned to his face if only briefly. “You hear anything about Jimmy?”

  “When we got here they told us he had a collapsed lung and you had a concussion. Emma went to see him, but I’ve been waiting out front.”

  “They wouldn’t let you come back?”

  I held my left hand up and pointed to my empty ring finger. “Seems I didn’t have the proper credentials.”

  His voice grew husky. “Do you want the proper credentials?”

  “I want you to get better,” I said softly.

  He nodded his head slightly and then closed his eyes. Whatever medication had eased his pain had pulled him into slumber. I wondered briefly if he’d remember our conversation when he woke up.

  I remained by Hudson’s bed until they asked me to leave. Plans to move him had been delayed based on another patient. He’d woken up twice, but both times fell back asleep quickly.

  I found Emma in the lobby. Her makeup was gone from her face and her puffy eyes indicated where it had gone. She stood up when she saw me. I put my arm around her and guided her out of the ER to the car. There was no discussion over who would drive.

  The main roads of Palm Springs were becoming more familiar to me, but the roundabout way we’d reached the hospital had put me off my compass. Emma navigated with the occasional, “left here,” and “right at the light.” Before long we entered the stretch of dirt road that led to her and Jimmy’s house.

  I pulled into the driveway. “Emma, you and Heather shouldn’t stay here by yourselves tonight. Go inside and pack overnight bags. I’ll get Mortiboy. Tell Heather we’re going to have our own sleepover. We can all stay in my motel room. I’ll call Officer Buchanan and ask him to meet us there with Rocky.”

  Emma nodded. The life had been sucked from her and the only thing she was capable of was following instructions. She went inside the house and I called Buchanan.

  “Hi, Officer. It’s Madison Night. Thank you again for getting me in to see Hudson. I’ve been with him most of the day, but they just kicked us out.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “I was wondering if we could arrange for me to pick up Rocky.”

  “Sure. I’m just finishing up with the ME. Are you still at the hospital?”

  “We’re at Emma’s house, but we’re going from here to the Tiki Tropics motel. Why don’t I call you when we’re there?”

  “Sounds good.”

  At that moment, Emma ran out of the house with a half-filled suitcase in one hand and her phone in the other. Her eyes looked wild. She dropped the suitcase and ran to me.

  “Madison, the school called to make sure Heather got home safely. She’s not here. Nobody’s here. I don’t know what to do.” She held up the phone. “My little girl is missing!”

  NINETEEN

  I took the phone from Emma’s hand. “Hello?” I asked. “Who is this?”

  “Madison? It’s Jo Conway. Emma called me. Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t think so. Can you hold on for a moment?” I set the phone down on the end table and led Emma to the sofa. She sat down and bent over, gasping for breath. “What did the school tell you?”

  “They said they gave Heather the message that I was running late. The vice principal said Heather waited on the steps, but she was gone when he left. He wanted to check to make sure everything was okay.”

  “Did you call the school?”

  “No. I was with you at the hospital. I left a message for Jo—”

  Despite the desert heat, I felt chilled. I became vaguely aware of a tinny sound and it took me a second to realize Jo was still on the phone. “Wait here.” I picked up the phone and went into the next room. “Jo? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. What’s wrong?”

  “Did you see Heather when you picked Gina up from school today?”

  “No, but I took Gina out of class early today, so I wasn’t there at the usual time.”

  “Did you get a message from Emma?”

  “No. Why? What is going on?”

  “Heather’s missing. I have to call the police.”

  I hung up and called Buchanan. “Officer, this is Madison Night. Emma’s little girl is missing.”

  “For how long?”

  “There was a mix-up at the school, so it’s been a couple of hours.”

  “Tell Ms. McKenna to call the school and anybody else Heather might be with. It’s too soon for official action.”

  “But she’s nine years old! Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “I’m on my way.”

  The day that wouldn’t end got even longer. Emma called the school, the teachers, and the last five babysitters she’d hired to sit Heather. I went next door and checked to see if Jo was home. None of our actions netted us answers.

  What had happened while we’d been at the hospital? The details were thin. Someone had called the school and posed as Emma. They’d left a nine-year-old girl vulnerable and alone and now she was missing. Someone had known we’d be gone all day, someone who’d been responsible for Hudson and Jimmy’s injuries. It sickened me further to think the assault on the men had been little more than a diversionary tactic.

  While my mind backtracked over everything that had happened since arriving in Palm Springs, Emma sat next to me, as still as a statue except for the action of chipping off her nail polish.

  Buchanan arrived in minutes. He let Rocky out of the car, and he ran to me, his fur flying behind him. Emma stood up. “Have you found her?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. McKenna, like I told Ms. Night, it’s too soon for us to take any official action.”

  “But my little girl is gone!” She was borderline hysterical. I hugged Rocky to my chest and thought about the alternative, how I’d feel if it had been him.

  “Officer, there must be something you can do,” I said. I set Rocky down on the yard and held tightl
y to his leash.

  “Tell me what you know,” he said.

  Emma wiped the tears from her face. “Her school lets out at two. The school claims I called them and said I was running late and asked Heather to wait out front for me—but I didn’t. The vice principal said when he left, Heather wasn’t there anymore, so he thought I picked her up. He called here to make sure everything was okay—that’s how I found out she never came home.”

  Buchanan looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then tapped his right foot against the step a few times like I did when I felt mine going numb.

  “Officer, where were you when we called?”

  “At the station house. I was about to take your dog to my house where my Pomeranian is, but two dogs that don’t know each other…not a good idea. I asked one of the patrol officers to watch him while I met with the ME. That’s when I got your call.”

  “But you’re a patrol officer too, right? Why are you involved in this case?”

  “I feel a little to blame for this investigation getting messed up from the start and I want to help Detective Drayton see it through.” Buchanan turned his attention to Emma. “Mrs. McKenna, I’d like to take a look in the house, see if anything is amiss.”

  Emma didn’t have to let him inside, but unless she was hiding something, there was no reason not to. No matter what guilt she felt over her affair, it had been pushed aside to make room for the protection mode she needed to find her daughter. We both stood up. She opened the front door and led the three of us inside.

  The house looked much like it had when I’d left that morning. Jimmy’s coffee mug, plate, and fork sat in the sink. A bag of bagels sat on the counter. A bowl of water sat on the floor.

  “Mortiboy,” I said. The three of them looked at me. “Hudson’s cat. He should be here somewhere.”

  “What does this cat look like?”

  “He’s black, probably about five or six years old.”