Several rained-soaked miles down the main highway, a car came up behind her. She turned to wave it down, an act she’d tried several times before, but the vehicles simply cruised by without slowing. Her hair flopped in her face and her clothes hung on her like tattered rags. She must have looked like a homeless person, she thought. No wonder they won’t pick me up.
To her surprise, this time the car stopped for her.
Someone was in the passenger’s seat, so Emily pulled open the back door. The dome light came on, and Emily recognized the driver. Everett Pratt’s last lady love, the one he found at church, Amy Bushnell.
“I couldn’t see well, but I thought that was you. What are you doing out here all alone?”
Emily tried to squeeze the water from her hair before she hopped in.
“I, uh, my car broke down.”
“I didn’t see a car back there,” said Ms. Bushnell.
“It was on one of the county roads off to the West, about two miles back.”
“And you walked all this way?”
“No one would stop for me.” Emily sat back, then quickly leaned forward. “I’m going to get your seats soaking wet.”
“Don’t worry about it. They’re leather. They can take it.”
The passenger turned around to look at Emily.
“This is my daughter, Rachel. Say hello to Ms. Rhodes.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. The daughter was blonde and blue-eyed, a beautiful twelve-year old. This had to be the younger sister of the daughter Ms. Bushnell told Emily Everett has put the moves on.
“Hi.”
The girl smiled. “Hi.”
“I didn’t know you had two daughters, Ms. Bushnell.”
“What made you think that? Rachel is my only child.”
Chapter 18
Ms. Bushnell chatted about the weather, the economy and her job at the newly opened candy shop downtown. “I hope it works out. Stores tend to go under quickly around here. What do you think? Will it last?’
Emily’s mind wandered back to the interview with Amy Bushnell and her confession that Everett Pratt had made a pass at her daughter. This daughter, thought Emily, this girl, this child? What a horrid man. No wonder someone killed him. She sneaked a peak at Ms. Bushnell’s face. Could she have killed Everett? She certainly had motive, but Emily couldn’t see this delicate woman wielding a barbeque poker. Poison? That was another matter. Emily wondered why Ms. Bushnell had not contacted the authorities and reported Pratt. It was a question she wanted to ask her but not with the daughter in the car.
“Ms. Rhodes? Are you all right? You seem to be someplace else.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m fine. I was just worried about a friend of mine who’s in the hospital. I need to go visit him. Could you drop me there?”
“Oh, certainly. I’d be happy to.” Ms. Bushnell glanced at Emily out of the corner of her eye, and Emily knew the woman was reading her mind. But Ms. Bushnell said nothing.
When they pulled up in front of the hospital, the rain let up a bit.
“Well, so much for that drought they were predicting. A lot of good a full moon does when hidden by all the clouds,” said Ms. Bushnell. Emily caught the nervousness in her voice and in the laugh that followed.
“Thanks for the lift. And, Ms. Bushnell…”
“I know. We need to talk. I’ll call you. Soon. Very soon.” She drove off, leaving Emily standing at the curb. Emily made a mental note to herself not to wait for that call, but to get in touch with her as soon as she was certain Lewis was okay. And after she’d given Donald a piece of her mind.
Naomi sat in a deserted waiting room. Donald was not with her.
“Mom! We were worried. Donald is looking for you right now. We drove back to pick you up, but you were gone.”
Emily hugged her daughter. “I’m just fine, maybe a little wet. So you convinced Donald to come back for me. How long did that take you?”
Naomi looked as if she wanted to deny she was the one who talked Donald into changing his mind about Emily, but Emily held up her hand and shook her head.
“Okay, we were almost here when I told him that if anything happened to you he’d have to answer to Lewis. He turned around to find you, but we guessed someone had given you a ride, so we scooted back here using a short cut Donald knew.”
“Never mind Donald. How’s Lewis? Have you heard anything yet?”
“Nothing other than he’s in surgery.”
Emily and Naomi sank down onto the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. The hours ticked by until the morning light penetrated the hospital windows. Emily kept checking at the desk. Still no word. Finally at nine o’clock, Emily again approached the nurse on duty. She shook her head, and Emily headed back to her chair. A few minutes later the phone on the desk rang. The nurse answered it, listened intently, then beckoned to Emily.
“He’s out of surgery and doing well. Only relatives are allowed to visit, but you look like his sister and niece to me, so go on up to his room, number 212. There’s already someone there now, so you can’t stay long.”
Emily was curious who could be there already. She stopped in the doorway, then entered. Lewis turned his head.
“We’re so happy you’re alive,” she said in a whisper. She was happy he was alive, so happy she wanted to cry, but that would have made two women weeping over him. The other woman, seated near his bed, her face stained with tears was Adrienne Milford, Lewis’ ex-wife. She held his hand with one of hers, with the other, she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“What are you doing here? You almost got him killed. Couldn’t you have the decency to stay away?”
This wasn’t the moment to take on the woman, thought Emily. For once her better nature won out. She gave him a tremulous smile.
“Naomi and I just wanted to say hello and see that you were recovering. We’ll talk some other time.” Emily turned to go.
“You come back here. I’ve got some things to say to you.” The woman tore herself from his side and followed Emily out the door. In the hallway she grabbed Emily’s arm.
Although Adrienne was far taller than she, Emily ‘s work in the bar hauling cases of beer and booze developed the muscles in her arms, shoulders and back. She pried the hand off her arm, then took her by the elbow with her other hand in the woman’s hair, and pulled her down the hall, away from Lewis’ room.
In a low voice Emily said,” Now is not the time for you to throw one of your fits. Your ex-husband almost died. If you want to be here, be here for him and leave me out of it or I’ll pull every auburn hair from your head and kick you off your stilettos. Got me?”
Adrienne opened her mouth to speak, but Emily gave a yank to the hair to emphasize how serious she was.
“Better do as Mom says,” said Naomi. “She’s like a bobcat when she gets riled.”
Emily gave Adrienne’s hair another tug, then shoved her back down the hall. “Get in there and do your grieving wife thing or whatever you think you were doing. It almost looked like the genuine article to me. Maybe you can fool him too.”
Captain Worley walked off the elevator and approached them.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“Arrest her for assault,” said ex-wifey
Worley looked hesitant for a moment, then smiled at Emily, ignoring Adrienne’s words. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine. Go on in. I know he’ll be pleased to see you.”
“I told you to arrest her.”
Worley again ignored the outburst. I guess he’s got her number, thought Emily.
Finally Worley turned to the ex Mrs. Stanton. “If you’re going to be this excitable, I don’t think you should be in there with him.”
“What? Why you second-rate cop. I’ll have your badge for this.”
“And if you can’t control yourself, I’ll have to remove you from the hospital.”
Adrienne gave him a look filled with rage, then spun on her heel and stalked down the hallwa
y to the elevator. “I’ll be back.” She punched the button, and, when the car failed to appear, she began to pummel it with both hands. Worley and the two women watched. Finally the doors opened and the wife got in, catching her heel on the lip of the car. The heel broke off with a snap, lodging itself in the door mechanism. The door hit the heel and opened again, then continued to open and close, open and close, until the doctor who exited the elevator when Adrienne got in, reached down and handed the broken heel to her. The doors snapped shut and Worley, Emily and Naomi gave out a collective sigh of relief.
“I thought they were divorced,” said Worley.
“He is. She isn’t,” said Emily.
“You want to go in with me?”
“No, I think he’s had enough women for the night. Tell him I’ll be back before I leave for work this afternoon.”
“I wonder who called his ex?” asked Naomi as they took the stairs down to the main floor.
“They probably searched his wallet for next of kin, and her name was still there.”
“She seemed real upset. Or was that an act?” asked Naomi.
“Who knows. What I hear tell of her she’s drama queen. I just wonder what she wants out of him.”
Emily sounded sanguine about Adrienne’s presence in Lewis’ room, but her insides churned with anger and concern at the woman’s appearance and what Lewis might make of it when he was back to himself once more. Would he welcome the prodigal ex-wife’s return or want to throw her out on her ear?
The hospital’s doors closed with a muffled whoosh leaving them in a world smelling as clean as if it had been washed of all its dirt, emotional as well as physical. Emily drew in a breath of the laundered air.
“We need a ride home,” said Naomi.
Emily took her phone out of her pocket and contacted Vicki who drove up a few minutes later.
“What’ll it be, ladies?” Vicki said once Emily and Naomi were in the car.
“Take us to my car first. Then a cup of strong coffee, and do you have any Key Lime pie at your place?”
“Yep. Just baked one yesterday.” Vicki gave a sniff, then another. “I’m glad to get you the pie, but maybe someone should consider a shower first. You both smell like you spent the night in the swamp.”
“We did,” said Naomi.
“Shower.” The word came out of Emily’s mouth with a shaky moan. She thought back to the night on Jekyll Island, and how she pulled Lewis into the shower with her. She burst into tears.
“Why is she crying about a shower?” asked Vicki.
Naomi wrapped her arms around her mother. “Lewis will be fine,” she said, correctly guessing Emily’s concern.
“Sure,” said Vicki, “There’s nothing in the world Key Lime pie can’t make better.”
Lewis opened his eyes when Worley entered the room. He tried for a look of strength, but every atom in his body ached.
“Where’s Emily? She was here a minute ago.”
Worley smiled. “So was your wife.”
“Ex-wife. It wasn’t the gunshot that put me in this state. It was waking up to Adrienne hanging over my bed. My own fault. I forgot to take her number out of my records as emergency contact.”
“Emily talked her out of staying.”
Lewis watched the flicker of a smile appear on Worley’s lips, then disappear to be replaced by his usual stern look.
“Did she now? And she and Naomi are…?”
“Just fine, as is Donald. What the hell were you doing at the Pratt’s still with that motley posse?” This time there was no smile on Worley’s face. Lewis was expecting this, and he knew he deserved any reprimand Worley might throw at him. He’d acted like a rank amateur.
“Never mind. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I have other news.”
The floor nurse entered the room. “He’s had too many visitors already. Now shoo. Anything you have to say can wait until he’s rested.”
Lewis held up his hand. “Wait. What news?”
Worley hesitated a moment, then said, “We dropped the murder charges against Bill Harper and released him. Damn that Toby.” He clapped his hat on his head and left.
Key Lime pie will make everything better, thought Emily, as she forked the creamy dessert into her mouth. Mmmmm.
“I made two,” said Vicki. “I’ve got plenty. Why not drop a piece off to Lewis on your way to work this evening?”
Emily and Naomi were stuffing themselves on coffee and the pie in Vicki’s kitchen. Her husband was off playing golf, and the house was quiet. Emily was about to reply to Vicki’s offer when the rumble of a loud truck pulling into her drive next door cut off her words.
Emily looked out the side window. “Oh great. It’s Donald.”
“Donald! I haven’t seen that old curmudgeon for weeks.” Vicki sprang to the window. “Hey, you. Over here. I got pie.”
Donald presented himself at her door, bass cap in his hand, wiping his feet on the mat. Vicki let him in, turning to give Emily a look that said, “This one’s a keeper, so neat and polite.” So crabby and cantankerous, Emily thought. Of course, Vicki liked Lewis too, thought he was equally mannerly and tidy in his ways. And always so damn right.
“Someone at the hospital had to tell me you got a ride.” Donald’s tone said he was displeased she hadn’t called him.
“Someone in an ambulance had to cart Lewis off to the hospital because his friend left him to go charging around in the woods last night,” she spit back.
“At his insistence,” said Donald.
Vicki gestured toward a kitchen chair and, when he sat, she placed a steaming cup of coffee at his hand.
He looked up and winked at her. “Some women are appreciative of a man’s efforts at rescuing little gals that go wandering off in the dark.”
Emily threw her fork onto her plate and pushed away from the table. “I am not sitting here after the night I’ve had and listen to a ratty fisherman bad mouth me. I’m going home.” She slammed out the door.
“Pie?” she heard Vicki offer Donald.
Soon Naomi followed her into the house. “Get some sleep, Mom. Donald offered to come into work early today, so you can rest the remainder of the afternoon.”
“He did what?”
“He’s worried about you. He said you seemed more strung out than usual.”
“I am not strung out. Ever. I should go over there and give him…” She heard the truck start up and pull out of the drive.
“Too late. Why not give him the benefit of the doubt. He was doing what he and Lewis thought was the best thing to do.”
“Lewis could have died.”
“Lewis knew he wasn’t going to die, and so did Donald. They were both worried about us. Lewis felt responsible for getting us into that situation. In fact, Donald stopped by his room to see how Lewis was doing. He ran into Worley, who told him it was a good thing Lewis was lying in a hospital bed shot up because he wasn’t going to be doing detective duties anyway. Worley put him on paid leave. He was showing off for us, Mom, taking us up there to see the still. It got him in more trouble than he bargained for.”
“I’ll bet Donald was thrilled to hear of Lewis’ leave.”
“I think Donald was angry at Lewis, but he’s the closest thing Lewis has to a guy friend. That doesn’t mean he was happy he was shot or put on leave.”
“Donald is never happy.”
“He is sometimes, usually when you’re around.”
“Only because he has an easy target for his barbs.”
“You’re anything but easy, Mom.”
Emily fell into the couch and dropped her head into her hands. “I thought he might die.”
“Lewis? Naw. He’s too tough for that.” Naomi joined her mother and put her arms around her.
“Sleep. You need it. Now.”
“You too, honey.”
The two women helped each other down the hallway and flopped into Emily’s king-sized bed. Soon Emily could hear the soft, even breathing of her daught
er. As exhausted as she was, she had a difficult time getting to sleep. She could still envision the blood covering Lewis’ shirt and jacket and see the pain in his eyes.
The following night Toby drove north on Route 441 out of town careful to avoid any cop cars. He was anxious to finish his own clever plan and get on with the kidnapping of the women for Smith and Barry. After he wrapped up his business, he wanted to get out of the county, perhaps the state, and find him a hidey hole until he could think of how to finagle a way out of his prison sentence. He’d heard his cousin Bill was free, and that wasn’t good. Something had gone wrong. What it was, Toby couldn’t imagine. But once he got the money out of his scheme and dropped a dime on the guys he’d blackmailed, he was sure he could fix things. They were the killers, right? They should pay—both Toby and the state, he thought.
Toby knew Smith and Barry wouldn’t be following him tonight, yet he kept looking into his rear view mirror and nervously biting the inside of his mouth as he drove toward the old rodeo grounds. Mr. Smith and Naomi’s husband decided the best time to grab the two women would be the first night of the barbeque competition at the festival grounds which would be crowded with people. Smith and Barry could blend in with the influx of people from the coast and other places coming to the cook-off. Toby was certain their victims would attend; he learned through his contacts that both of them were scheduled to work at one of the beer booths.
Tonight was the perfect time for Toby to settle his business with his blackmail victims or “retirement consultants” as Toby preferred to think of them. He smiled to himself as he thought of the money he could put under his mattress to replace the pension he’d lost when the police department fired him. That was mostly the doing of his partner and his partner’s girlfriend, the Yankee gal. Well, they’d get their up and comin’s soon.
Smith’s bilge pump had lost pressure, so he and Barry took it up to Port St. Lucie for a repair and, while they were there, they decided to take in a ‘gentlemen’s club’ in the area. Of course, they did not invite Toby along. Toby had never been to a club like that, and he was eager to go, but Smith ordered him to keep an eye on things.
Grilled, Chilled and Killed Page 18