“How’d you know where—”
“We’ve already got a ten-page file on you. Don’t worry; it’s all good stuff.” Haskins gave her a thumbs-up.
“So, am I still a suspect?” A chill ran down her spine when she considered the results of the phone call only hours ago. How could Devin really be gone?
Haskins’ pager went off and after glancing at the number, he pressed a button to silence it. “No, you’ve been cleared. There’s no way a woman in your condition could’ve lifted a 275-pound male into a manhole in an upright sitting position. And you’re not suspected as an accomplice because you have an alibi for the time of death.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence in my moral character,” Aubree said, feeling a little miffed. “When was the time of death?”
“Yesterday at about three in the afternoon. We figure he was shot and then moved to the manhole last night.”
“And I met with a client yesterday at 2:15 to show houses and didn’t finish until 5:00, but I’m sure you knew that.”
Haskins wiped his hand across his forehead. “Like I said, I’m very sorry about everything.”
Aubree looked at her stomach. The gauzy peach material of her maternity blouse was wrinkled and dirty. She felt grimy and clammy. Cody opened the door and helped a nurse with some food. Aubree’s mouth watered as she looked at the tray placed before her. A bowl of minestrone soup and a whole-wheat roll were sitting beside a large slice of carrot cake. She felt guilty for being so hungry. How could she eat at a time like this?
“Go ahead and eat. That baby needs nutrition no matter what’s going on in the world.” The nurse added a carton of milk to the tray. “When you’re finished, you can take a shower right in there.” She motioned to a door on the other side of the room, which Aubree guessed was a bathroom.
She stared at the tray and blinked away the moisture in her eyes.
“She’s right, you know,” Cody said. “It will help to have something in your stomach.”
The soup had a zesty smell, and Aubree made herself take a few bites, trying not to think about the turmoil in her life and focusing on her baby instead. She began to feel a bit more alive as she ate, but the tears were right below the surface no matter how many times she swallowed them away.
“We’ll give you some privacy now,” Haskins said. “We’re going to catch a bite, but I’ll keep trying to reach your mother.”
“Thank you,” Aubree said.
When they left the room, her spoon clattered on the tray, and she leaned back on the bed, letting the tears seep from her eyes. Sunlight fell in narrow strips across her bed, and Aubree looked at the window.
The shade was down, but the light shone through the space on the side. Dust particles fell slowly through the beams, and Aubree watched them. Her mind felt numb. With ragged breaths, she tried to keep her thoughts from returning to the moment that morning before she left for work. She couldn’t help it. Devin’s face flashed through her mind again— his wink, curly brown hair, and easy smile.
She didn’t want to think about how it was her fault he was dead. Some rational part of her mind knew it wasn’t really—she couldn’t control the man who had dialed the wrong number.
Aubree stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the water. She watched the steam rise to the ceiling. Then she stepped inside and let the warm water run over her body. She cried again, trying not to sob too loudly. She wanted a few minutes alone, but what she really needed was her mom. With her head in her hands, she pictured her mom’s clear blue eyes—the ones she had inherited.
“Mom, I need you right now,” Aubree whispered between ragged breaths. As the water poured over her shoulders, she prayed fervently. “Lord, please help me. I don’t know what to do.” She tried to ignore the raw pain that bubbled up with each sob and instead searched for a memory of peace. The fluttering motions of the baby reminded her of how excited Devin had been to feel the gentle nudges of their baby. She focused on that memory. Then she swallowed hard, stood, and washed the tears from her face.
After the shower, Aubree felt almost human again. She put on a clean hospital gown rather than wear her dirty, tear-stained clothes. Sitting in a soft chair, upholstered with sage green material, she combed her reddish-blonde hair. Even though she didn’t want to cry anymore, she couldn’t help it.
All of a sudden, she had become a single mother, and she couldn’t get used to the idea that her husband had been murdered. She needed to see him, to see his body, to make sure it was all true, but Haskins had told her she would have to wait until tomorrow. They were going to call the case a ‘robbery gone bad’ until they could discover what the killer had planned.
Before he left the room, Haskins had informed her that they were going to keep the media out of the loop as long as they could. Soon they would contact Devin’s family and release a statement to the press.
She rummaged through her purse until she found her checkbook. Photos of her family decorated the checkbook cover. She sighed when she saw the picture of Devin’s family. The photo was six years old, but she kept it close anyway because Devin’s parents had passed away five years ago in a house fire. Only Devin’s sister, Susie, and brother, Gabe, remained of the Stewart family. Aubree felt terrible that she knew about Devin’s death but couldn’t talk to anyone.
Aubree heard a light knock at the door, and then Dr. Samuels entered carrying another tray of food. “Now these are just some snacks, in case you get hungry later on. The police are going to be back to ask you a few more questions, and I told them you need your rest after that.”
“More questions? About what?” Aubree stood and walked toward the tray of goodies. She wrinkled her nose. “Haven’t I answered enough questions?”
“That’s what I said, but apparently you haven’t.” Dr. Samuels shook her head, and her short black hair swished back and forth. “I need to check your vitals and monitor the baby’s heart rate one more time, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Aubree leaned back on the hospital bed awkwardly as Dr. Samuels hooked up the monitor. “Thank you for helping me.”
“It’s been my pleasure. I’m only sorry it couldn’t have been under more pleasant circumstances.” Her mouth turned down slightly, and she brushed a stray hair away from her dark eyes. “You’re looking great, Aubree. Keep up the good work, and you should have a healthy baby soon.”
“I hope so.” Aubree swallowed hard, and her lip trembled.
“It’s okay to cry, but I want you to concentrate on growing your baby. You’ve lost your husband, and it’s not going to be easy without him, but you’ve got to try to keep your chin up.” Dr. Samuels patted Aubree’s wrist and smiled.
Aubree felt anger rising in her chest. How could this woman give her advice only hours after her husband’s murder? But as she formed a retort, she looked into Dr. Samuels face and saw genuine concern there. Aubree blinked, and the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She felt Dr. Samuels’ arms around her as she cried. After a few minutes, Aubree took a ragged breath and wiped away her tears. “I’ll be okay now,” she said.
“I have to run along, but I want you to remember what I said. Keep your chin up, keep your mind alert, and be aware of your surroundings.”
“Okay.” She watched as Dr. Samuels left the room. Why did she sense the doctor knew more than she was saying, as if she were trying to warn her about something?
Aubree thought about Devin and how she’d blown him a kiss that morning. She recalled his sleepy face when he poked his head around the corner to tell her she could borrow his cell phone. She covered her mouth and shook her head.
When he died, Devin was probably doing the same thing he had done every morning since he’d found out she was expecting: reading the morning paper and circling names. Aubree watched the tears fall onto the blue and white hospital gown. He was probably eating a bowl of his favorite bran flakes along with half a banana. He would linger over the paper and run his fingers through his curly brown hair as he rea
d the sports section and circle names with his red pen. Names he liked that he would later talk to Aubree about. Names he wanted to give their child.
Some of them would make Aubree laugh. Devin had been known to circle the names of stores like Kinko’s or Panda Express or especially nicknames of athletes. But several things he circled were names he truly liked, and a few times he had marked them with big red stars.
Since their baby had been too shy when Aubree had her ultrasound, the doctor hadn’t been able to tell if they were having a boy or a girl. So Devin always circled both boy and girl names, or sometimes he would circle a name like “George” and then write “if it’s a girl” beside it. There was a stack of newspapers at home that Aubree had saved with names she especially liked.
She let the images of the newspapers run through her mind and then sobbed even harder. Devin would never know his child. Her husband would never get to hold their baby and say its name. Suddenly, Aubree knew what she had to do.
A few minutes later, another knock announced the entrance of Haskins and Cody.
“I’m sorry to keep bothering you. We have a few more questions,” Haskins said as he sat in the chair by her bed.
Aubree sat up and spoke a little louder than she’d intended, “I need to have the paper Devin was reading this morning. Please make sure the police don’t ruin it.”
Haskins looked puzzled, and Cody frowned. “The paper could be ruined already, and it may be catalogued as evidence.”
“I need to see it. It was the last thing my husband read before he died. Please.”
“I’ll have to check with the investigating officer and see what we can do,” Haskins said.
Aubree noticed Cody was holding the notebook she had written in earlier. He coughed and looked at her writing. “I wanted to check with you to see if there’s anything else you can remember about the wrong number today.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I tried to remember everything he said, but I don’t know.”
“You’ve done well to remember what you did,” Cody said. “How positive are you about the use of the word intruder?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Intruder? He must’ve said it. I don’t know why else it would come to mind.”
Haskins turned down some chatter on his radio and looked at Cody. “It seems to stand out, and so we wanted to ask if you could remember exactly how the speaker used the word.”
“I’m trying to remember.” She picked at a string on the hospital blanket, wishing her brain didn’t feel like it was in some kind of fog. She didn’t want to hear that voice again—the one they thought was responsible for Devin’s murder—but maybe if she could remember what he had said, then she could forget.
“Do you think he said, ‘An intruder’? Or, ‘The intruder’?” Haskins asked. “I know it’s a small thing, but we’re working on some leads.”
“I’ll keep trying to remember. I want to help you find these people.” Aubree gripped the blanket in her hand.
“Thank you for trying,” Cody said. “Maybe some rest will help.”
As soon as the officers left, Aubree yawned. She eased into the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. She wanted to escape into the unconscious realm of sleep, and exhaustion was about to overcome her when a thought came to mind. If the killer knew they had the wrong cell phone, he must realize the mistake he’d made in killing Devin.
She’d already reported the information she’d heard to the police— the location of the body—and it had been found. It would probably only be a matter of time before the police tracked down Tidmore. What danger was left to her after he was behind bars? Was she truly in any real danger for the fragment of conversation she’d heard that morning? She doubted it.
Aubree hoped that the police would come to the same conclusion by tomorrow.
FOUR
THE NEXT MORNING, SUNLIGHT peeked through the blinds and warmed Aubree’s face. Opening her swollen eyes, she tried to remember why she was in a hospital bed. Then the realization hit her full force, and she groaned. A clean, citrus smell hung in the air, and she could hear people talking outside her door. Her husband was dead. How could it be true that Devin was gone?
Closing her eyes, she imagined Devin’s face and tried to hear his voice, his laughter, anything that would make him feel closer. The edges of her mental picture were fuzzy, and her grief seemed to crowd out happy memories.
Aubree remembered what the doctor had said about taking care of herself. She stretched and sat up slowly, wondering if a walk around the facility would help clear her mind. Before she could get herself out of bed, someone knocked on the door, and Aubree croaked, “Come in.”
Haskins pushed opened the door and entered, followed by Cody and another man. Aubree narrowed her eyes, frustrated at the early intrusion.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you this early, but we’ve got some important information for you.” Haskins clenched a folder and a notebook. “We also need to ask a few more questions.”
“No. No questions until I can at least go to the bathroom,” Aubree snapped. Haskins flinched when she spoke. She pulled her legs over the side of the bed and frowned.
“We’ll be back in ten minutes, and we’ll bring you some breakfast.” Cody stood and motioned for the others to follow.
“Okay.” Aubree walked stiffly across the room and slammed the bathroom door. She sank onto the tiled floor and tried to swallow the rising flood of tears.
“Why? Why did this have to happen to me now?” She spoke to the ceiling.
She shook her head, swallowed, and forced herself to clean up. The cool water on her face felt good. She looked at her haggard appearance in the mirror—the stringy hair and dark circles under her eyes. She offered a silent prayer: Please help me get through this day. It was all she could ask. If she could get through one day, maybe she’d be able to get through the next.
Aubree wiped her eyes and reentered her room, surprised that the three men hadn’t returned yet. She pulled a white hospital blanket from the bed and sat on the green upholstered chair. The air conditioning in the room was on high, and crying had given her the chills. She thought again of her mother and decided to insist that she be allowed to speak to her.
Cody returned first with a steaming plate of pancakes and eggs. When the smells of breakfast reached Aubree, her stomach lurched, but she forced herself to swallow and breathe slowly. She reached for the glass of milk beside the plate and took a sip. She had just picked up her fork when Haskins and the other man entered the room.
“Go ahead and eat. This won’t take long,” Haskins said.
Aubree put down her fork and frowned. “What kind of questions do you have for me today?”
“First, let me introduce Agent Jason Edwards from the FBI.” Haskins gave a half-smile to the man dressed in a shirt and tie.
“The FBI?” Aubree’s voice rose a notch.
“He’s going to tell you about some new information we’ve discovered and how it affects you.” Haskins sat in a wobbly folding chair.
Aubree stared at the FBI agent as he approached her. He carried the signature dark jacket over his arm. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up. He was lanky, but she could see the outline of his sculpted biceps. When he extended his hand to Aubree, she noticed a tattoo on his arm half-hidden by the rolled-up shirtsleeve. An orange and black flame wound around his muscle. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stewart. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. But I want to know if you’ve talked to my mother yet and if I can call her.”
“We were able to reach her early this morning, Mrs. Stewart. We’re arranging travel plans for her. She’s expecting to hear from you today.” He ran a hand through his short hair. It was bleached blond, and Aubree guessed him to be a native of California.
“Please call me Aubree.”
“I will if you finish your breakfast, Mrs. Stewart. We’re under strict orders from the doctor.” He smiled at her, and Aubre
e sighed and picked up her fork.
He sat next to her, and Aubree could smell the fresh scent of aftershave. He dug into a briefcase and retrieved two green file folders. “This investigation is being lifted to the federal level because of what we learned early this morning,” he said. “Several parts of the investigation are ongoing and cannot be discussed, but I can share a few details with you.”
Aubree’s heart quickened, and she took a deep breath. “The Federal level?”
“Yesterday you reported the details of a conversation. You said you heard the name ‘Tidmore.’ ”
“Yes, he said ‘Tidmore did the job,’ ” Aubree replied.
“Well, after the body was found and your husband was murdered, we immediately searched for any and all Tidmores.” Agent Edwards clasped his hands together and looked Aubree in the eye. “We found a Charles Tidmore today. He lived about fifty miles outside of San Diego and had been murdered in his apartment.”
Aubree gasped, and Haskins moved to stand beside her.
“I’m telling you this because we’re concerned for your life,” Agent Edwards continued. “By now you must realize that the killers have discovered that your husband was not the one who heard the conversation.”
Aubree’s head jerked up. “But how would they know—they killed Devin.”
“We don’t think this is just one person. The crimes have been committed very quickly—we think it’s a team.” He ran a finger along the collar of his shirt. “It would be easy for them to double-check the number they dialed against the number of the cell phone they took from your house and to discover they weren’t the same.” He tapped the green folders with his index finger. “We believe after they discovered this, they decided to kill Tidmore to cover their tracks.”
“Are you all right?” Haskins asked.
The only thing Aubree could do was nod as she watched the remains of her breakfast getting cold.
Agent Edwards rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “I’m sorry to upset you again, but you need to know because we consider you a witness in a triple murder investigation. We still haven’t identified the body found in the manhole yet, but we’re concerned that someone went to such great lengths to cover their tracks when you heard so little of the conversation.”
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