“I’m her son, and this is my sister. Tell us. Will she be okay?” Ethan’s tone of authority demanded the answer he wanted.
“She’s going to be fine,” the doctor said with a satisfied smile. “It will take time. She’s in recovery, and family will be able to see her in a few minutes.”
A cheer went up. Tears of joy fell, and they patted each other’s backs and exchanged hugs.
Bleakness descended over Jerrod. The hospital wouldn’t consider him family. They wouldn’t allow him to go in. God, he needed to see Jill with his own eyes. She’d been so white when he carried her up the embankment only moments before bright red and yellow flames engulfed the vehicle. The explosion rang in his ears.
Ethan’s hand on his shoulder made him jump. “Come with us.”
Jerrod took a deep breath and released it. “Thanks.”
“Not all of you at the same time and only for a moment. She needs to rest.”
The words came to Jill through a fog. Rest. Why did she need to rest? Sleepy. She was so sleepy. Not tired. She wanted to look around, but her lids didn’t cooperate. She concentrated. There. They batted open for a moment. Ellen’s face shimmered in front of her. Jill frowned.
“Thought...you’d...” What’s the word she wanted? Yeah. “Left.”
“Mom, don’t try to talk. I love you.”
Ah, sweet. Sometimes grown kids don’t use those words to their parents. Ellen picked up her hand. Jill wanted to squeeze. No movement. Huh. Must be more tired than she realized.
“Mom, you’ve had surgery, and you’re in recovery. You’re going to be okay. Ethan’s here, too. We’re coming in one at a time to keep from tiring you out. I’m leaving so he can come in and see you.”
Again, Jill tried to squeeze her daughter’s hand. Maybe more this time...and then her son’s low tones warmed her heart.
“Hey, Mom. I’m the one who’s supposed to have the dangerous job.”
Danger? What’d he mean by that? She willed a smile in his direction but wasn’t certain it made it to her mouth before he faded out of sight like a cartoon ghost. Poof, he was gone.
“Jill.”
Jerrod’s deeper tones? Her eyes popped open again. Sure enough, the whiskered face she loved so much floated into view and wavered before coming clear. She wanted to touch him, but her hand wouldn’t do what she wanted. What was the matter with her? “Sick?”
“You’re in the hospital, Jill, but you came through the surgery fine.”
Was he kissing the palm of her hand? Her fingers slid through his whiskers, soft to touch. A tear fell from one of his eyes. Would he forgive her? The hope faded away, and she couldn’t remember why she wanted him to. But it was important. Again, another kiss to her palm. Safe with Jerrod, she drifted off.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27
Riley disconnected the call and leaned back against the headboard in his Woodstock motel room. His smile so wide it almost hurt. He’d followed his gut and returned to the New England town concerned about Jill Barlow’s safety. He’d been right to be worried but hadn’t been in time or in the right place to protect her.
The phone call from the Austin homicide detective who’d investigated Bill Stevens’ death had brought good news. Richardson cratered when faced with the information the authorities held another flash drive. He decided to turn state’s evidence against Sid Cranston, the Las Vegas mob kingpin behind the push to legitimize casino gambling in Texas. Richardson wanted to escape the death sentence Texas so liberally handed out.
Maybe they’d get the evidence needed to seal the files on Jill’s husband and father’s murder cases. Finalizing those cases would be great. Give the woman some closure. Then she could move back to Fort Worth.
He glanced around his room. It was furnished in the traditional New England manner, according to the fliers he’d picked at the front desk. The fire crackling in the hearth did more than warm the body.
He understood why Jill ran to this town. But her roots were in Fort Worth. For God’s sake, she was a Texan.
He didn’t question why it mattered to him where she chose to live. It shouldn’t matter at all. Yet it did.
Jill Barlow was on her way to a full recovery. Mike needed to make plans to go home. He’d put a dent in his stored-up vacation days, but he was glad he’d come. If things worked out the way it appeared they might, solving two murders would be more than worth his efforts. He’d get his travel plans lined up and stop by the hospital to tell her goodbye.
First, he’d bring the local officials up to date with Austin PD information. Hardwick should know how to get in touch with Don Phillips. Mike slung on his jacket and hurried to the car. Damn. He was going to freeze his butt off if he didn’t get out of this state. A spot near the Woodstock Public Safety building opened, and he slid in his rental. Thank God, he wouldn’t be out in this snowy weather long. He walked in out of the cold and spoke to the deputy. “I’m Detective Jack Riley. If Sheriff Hardwick is in, I’d like to see him.”
“Just a minute.” The officer checked with her boss. “Go on back.”
“Thanks.” He nodded to the deputy. Small town law enforcement had advantages. He could get right in to see the headman without an appointment.
“Hey, Mike. Good to see you.” Hardwick held out his hand and Mike met his grasp.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you thanks for having my back out on the road.” Jack said.
“No sweat.”
“Have a seat.” Jack gestured to a chair.
“I was glad Jill Barlow came through the ordeal okay.” Mike slouched into the seat in front of Hardwick’s desk.
“Yeah, everyone is.” Hardwick, seemingly a patient man, waited to see what Mike wanted.
“Heard some news this afternoon. Expect you’ll be interested.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
Mike told him how the Austin cops turned Greg Richardson and expected to get the man from Vegas behind everything.
“That’s great. Maybe the forward movement of the investigation will give us info on who killed Phillips. Mitch was screwed up, but he didn’t deserve his fate. No one does.”
“I’ll be heading home to Fort Worth tomorrow. Got a late afternoon flight out of Hartford. When I learn more about the situation, I’ll keep you posted.” He stood.
“Appreciate that.” Jack reached his hand across to meet Mike’s. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, have a safe trip. What kind of weather you got out there now?”
“Hate to tell you, Jack, but we had a warm front come through, and temperature’s forecast to hit seventy tomorrow. If you ever get down our way, I’d be happy to show you around Cowtown.”
“Thanks. I might do that.” Jack nodded.
Mike shouldered his way outside into the frigid air. His warm breath rolled out in clouds. It might be good idea to stop off at the hospital and get the visit over. He’d pack tonight and leave early tomorrow morning. No telling what shape the roads would be in for his trip to Hartford. He wanted to give himself plenty of time to get to the airport.
He rode the elevator up to the floor in the hospital where Jill’s room was and paced outside. This was probably a mistake. Maybe he’d leave without seeing her. He didn’t have to. He stepped away from her door, then stopped.
If she never returned to Fort Worth, this would be the last opportunity he’d have. He needed to see for himself how she was healing. She had so much family around, he’d not come before.
Mike never had feelings for anyone involved in a case, so this was a new experience for him. Not that anything was going to come of this... What? Crush? Damn the word sounded lame.
Anyway, he’d read the clear signs that Jerrod Phillips was in love with Jill. No telling how she felt about him. He straightened his shoulders and tapped on the door.
“Come in,” Jill said in a stronger voice than he’d expected.
She sat up in the bed. The red line from the earlier knife wound made more visible by the pallor from her ordeal an
d surgery. A sling supported her left arm. Still beautiful to him. He swallowed. “Hey, how goes it?” Brilliant, man. Absolutely brilliant. His fingers gripped the brim of his hat.
“Oh, Mike. I’m so glad to see you. I was afraid you’d already gone home, and I hadn’t had the chance to tell you...”
Was she crying? He stepped closer to the bed and handed her a tissue.
“Damn. Just when I think I’ve gotten the nasty effects of the anesthesia out of my system, I get weepy again.”
“Don’t worry. You’ve been through a lot.” His heart skittered in his chest when she reached out a hand for his. He laid his hat on the chair. At the rate he was going, he was about to end up with a permanently bent brim.
“I will get this out.” She clasped her other hand over his. They were cold. He couldn’t help but wrap his other hand on top of hers. “You can’t imagine what it meant to me to come out of that jail cell and see someone from home. Someone who knew me. Someone who believed in me. I’m forever grateful.”
More than a little embarrassed by her gratitude, Mike tried to make light of the situation. “Oh, you know I’d never been to New England, and I had more than a few days of vacation time coming. Glad I could help. I’m heading back tomorrow. The temperature’s gonna be seventy degrees. Want to come along?” He pushed what passed for a chuckle through his closed-up throat. What the hell? She’d think he was nuts. Maybe he was.
She smiled as if at a private joke. “Probably can’t quite make it yet, still hooked up to a few things here.” She gestured to some of the monitors. “I’m sure I’ll go back. Eventually. My house will sell. I won’t make Gary and Michelle deal with the sale without me. Gary was executor for Dad’s will when it was probated, but going through all the stored stuff? Nah, I’ll have to return.”
“Well, call me when you get back, we’ll compare notes on what we know about the wrap up of this business with your husband and father.”
“I’ll do that, Mike. Take care and have a safe journey.”
He patted her hand, grabbed his hat, and left her lying in the bed in the Woodstock Hospital. Time to get yourself home, cowboy.
Chapter Nineteen
MONDAY, DECEMBER 3
Greg Richardson paced the perimeter of his office. He’d stashed away enough money he should get out of Texas. Maybe go live on one of those secluded islands where nobody would ever find him. He didn’t have to stay here.
The thing was, he hated for anyone to screw with him as Cranston had done. Sid promised he had the New England deal taken care of. What a laugh. Sid’s associates turned it into a real disaster. All they needed to do was steal the God damned flash drive from the Barlow bitch. Greg’s anger increased his breathing rate. He began to hyperventilate.
That’s all they needed to do. All they had to do. How many times did they try, and how many did they fail? Well, it didn’t matter. Bottom line, Cranston didn’t live up to his part of the arrangements, and now Greg’s ass was about to be cooked. Well, he wasn’t going down alone.
He glanced at his watch. He’d convinced Cranston to fly over to give them a chance to clear up a few issues. Yeah, they’d get things cleared up all right. Greg paused in front of the large mirror hanging on one wall of his office. A smile of satisfaction curled up a corner of his mouth. The wire Greg wore didn’t show at all. He’d nail Cranston for everything.
The island Greg wanted was still a possibility. He’d spend some time in the pen, which was what he’d negotiated with the Feds. They couldn’t get him on Barlow and Stevens’ deaths. Greg fed the FBI Eddie Franklin, his jerk of an informant in their office. Now Franklin was going away for a long time. Greg would watch his trial with enjoyment.
Buzz. Greg jumped and flipped the intercom button.
“Mr. Richardson,” a night security man said.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got a Mr. Sam Chalmers down here. You want me to let him come up?” Cranston’s usual punctuality helped with plans for tonight.
“Yes. Direct Mr. Chalmers to the correct elevator.”
Within moments, the soft swish of the elevator doors announced Sid Cranston’s arrival. He strode into the office, his Italian suit and loafers, and the large diamond on his right pinky finger shouting his I’m-in-charge-person.
“Glad you could make it,” Greg said to his guest.
“Yeah, it seemed necessary.”
“Want a drink?”
“Whiskey. Straight.” Cranston looked around the office and opened the doors leading into other corridors.
“Nervous?” Greg poured them each two fingers.
“Cautious.”
“You come alone?”
“Nah. Left my guys downstairs with the security man. Good system you have.”
“Sit, sit. Let’s figure out where we are after these fucking screw-ups.”
Cranston took a sip of the drink. “I’m not making excuses for my men. They’d worked for me a long time. I figure they bit it. I haven’t heard anything since they called to say they had Barlow and the flash drive.” Cranston lowered his bulk into a large brown leather chair.
“We had a good thing going here, Sid. When your people got rid of Bill Stevens? God, we were home free.” Greg settled on the end of the matching leather sofa.
“That should’ve taken care of any roadblocks. My guys did good work after that first misstep when they took out George Barlow. Goddamn, that was disappointing. If they’d killed Stevens then, we’d have been raking in the dough from those casinos for a couple of years.”
“Past history. Can’t do anything to change that.” Greg sipped his booze, his hand steady. Nothing showed of his inner turmoil. “You did get him, and I worked my tail off twenty hours a day after that, trying to swing those votes so the bill would be approved last spring.” He shook his head. “Damn shame.”
“Sure as hell is.” Sid took a slug of his whiskey.
“Next Legislative session enough time will have passed, and we won’t have their stupid emotions working against us the way we did this year.” Greg polished off his whiskey. “Tell me, Sid.” Greg crossed a leg and straightened the crease. “Why’d you initially think you had the New England thing handled? When I first said where the questions were coming from, you didn’t sound surprised. Gave me the impression you had it controlled.”
“Should’ve been. The idiot I worked with disappointed the crap out of me. The amount of money Mitch owed should’ve motivated him to pull off the assignment. When he didn’t, I had no more use for him. Sent Judson in to clean it up. Now he’s gone, too.” He finished his drink.
“Want another?” Greg stood to refill his own.
“Sure, why not?”
“So, what do you suggest we do next?” Greg handed Sid the crystal tumbler with the high dollar liquor. This may be the last drink the man enjoyed for a long time.
“We lay low for a while. If the committee schedules meetings during the down time, attend, but don’t make any public statements.” Sid swallowed half the liquid in his glass. “Let things settle until the fall before the January session.”
Sid stretched out his legs as if he didn’t have anything to worry about. He’d see how wrong he was.
“That will be soon enough to start pushing these chicken-shit legislators to do what we want. An extra envelope or two of cash for some of the key players will ensure we get satisfaction.”
“What about the flash drive? What are the odds the authorities got hold of the one Barlow had from her father?” Greg paced in front of his desk.
“If they had it, we’d not be sitting around drinking your good whiskey.” Sid held the glass up to the light. He could be enjoying its color. “You’ve got the original, right?”
“I never let it out of my sight.” Greg picked up his keys and leaned against the desk. A shiny device hung below the other items on the ring. He took a sip from his glass.
Sid stood, made his way to the sideboard, tipped his head, and downed the rest of the drink.
He set the glass on the dark credenza and turned.
The silenced weapon in Cranston’s hand pointed directly at Greg’s chest. His breath stopped. His legs threatened to give out, but he pulled himself upright.
“Shit, man, what are you doing with that gun?” The fucking Feds better have heard him. They needed to make their move fast, or he was done for.
“Taking care of loose ends, kid.”
Cranston’s voice shot fear through Greg’s blood like sleet in a blue norther. The booze that went down so smoothly rose in the back of his throat.
“What I should’ve done some time ago, when I saw the way this was going. Too many actions weren’t panning out. So now you’re one less piece of the puzzle to worry about.”
Where the hell were the agents? Greg’s heart pounded in his chest. His hands were so sweaty the glass fell but didn’t make much sound on the thick carpet. Odd the things you noticed in a moment like this.
Sure enough, your past life did rush by. If the Feds didn’t get in here in the next second, he was a dead man. The flash from the gun registered a second before the soft thwack. He grabbed his middle where a piercing sharpness threatened to cut him in two. His knees buckled, and he fell toward the floor. Guess he should’ve worn the vest like the Feds wanted him to. He’d badly misjudged Cranston. The door burst open, and gunfire popped. Cranston tumbled to the ground, a red bloom spreading across his chest.
Well, at least Sid got his, too.
Chapter Twenty
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4
“I don’t want to be a bother to you, Ellen I’ll be fine here.”
Jill’s daughter folded a sweater and shut the bureau drawer in her Jill’s bedroom. She hated doing nothing when others worked.
“But Mom, I’d love for you to come.” Ellen said. Jill didn’t know how she could desert her store or her friends. Or Jerrod. Her hands twisted while she paced. The thought of leaving gouged a giant hole out of her middle, leaving emptiness.
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