The first diver shook his head. "Nothing but a lot of old trash."
"Didn't find a knife or anything that could have caused those stab wounds?" the sheriff asked.
"No, sir."
Stokes turned to Alex. "Well, where in hell is your old man's knife?"
Two hours later, Alex stood with the sheriff on the dock next to Skipper Frank's boat, the Maggie Mae. Stokes took off his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. He looked at his watch. "Should be coming up in a few minutes, son," he said.
Alex watched bubbles coming up to the surface from the two divers making their way around the boat, looking for any evidence in the death of Horton Bayes. It had been a long sweltering day down on the docks. The divers had been making ever-widening circles around the boat in their search.
"Here we go," Alex heard the sheriff say as the first diver's head and face mask broke calm surface of the river. The diver had come up about twenty yards out from the end of the dock and began slowly swimming back. He lifted a mesh bag from the water and held it up as he kicked his fins.
The diver spit the air regulator from his mouth and yelled out, "Sheriff, you need to see this."
Alex and Sheriff Stokes both walked out and knelt at the end of the dock. The diver handed the bag up to Stokes. He laid it carefully down on the dock. Alex felt a sick feeling in his gut when he saw the sun glint off the blade of a long fillet knife.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Hanna had done her best to ignore her stepmother for the past two hours in the waiting room. Her efforts were helped by the woman's constant chatter on her cell phone. Hanna overheard numerous conversations about charity galas, her golf league, getting a new workout trainer, someone's divorce. She seemed to have no shortage of friends to keep her occupied.
Hanna looked at her phone. The three messages from Alex Frank were still on her call list. She finally decided to listen to the last one. She found little solace in his apology and explanation. Her senses continued to warn her, close the chapter, Hanna!
She looked up as her father's cardiologist, Dr. Mason, came into the waiting room in his blue surgical scrubs and mask hanging from his neck. He saw Hanna and Martha and came over and sat next to Martha. Hanna went to join them.
The doctor took a deep breath, clearly tired. "Ladies, we have good news and bad."
"Good news, please," Martha said.
"Your husband handled the procedure satisfactorily. He's in recovery and doing well."
"Well, thank goodness," Martha said.
"And what's the bad news, doctor?" Hanna asked.
"The bypass was successful, Hanna, but I'm afraid it's only a temporary solution. I had hoped this procedure would be sufficient, but it's clear he's going to need a transplant if we want to keep him going longer-term."
"A transplant." Hanna repeated, resignation clear in her tone.
"A complete heart transplant?" Martha asked.
"I'm afraid so," the doctor said.
"How soon?" Hanna asked.
"Well, the healing process for the procedure today will take time. I'd say we're looking at several months from now. Once he's fully recovered, we can get him on the donor list. Then, it's a matter of time until the right donor is available and he's on the top of the list. Sometimes it takes more than a few months.
Hanna was somewhat relieved her father's condition seemed to be stabilized. On the other hand, a heart transplant was a frightening prospect.
"When can we take him home, doctor?" Martha asked.
"A few days, if we can get him to sit still for that long."
"He'll want to get back to the office tomorrow," Hanna scoffed.
The doctor frowned. "I'm going to insist he take a significant leave of absence to get his strength back and avoid the stress of his work."
"Good luck with that." Martha said. "Allen will go crazy sitting around the house."
"When can we see him?" Hanna asked.
"Should be an hour or so. I'll have the nurse come and get you."
It was nearly two hours before a nurse came out to escort them back to Allen Moss's room. Hanna and Martha followed her down a long corridor and then into a room filled with monitoring equipment and nurses taking readings. Hanna's father lay propped up with pillows, tubes running out from numerous locations on his body and an oxygen feed in his nose. She thought he looked ten years older than when they took him in earlier in the morning. She watched a thin smile come across his face as they entered. The two women sat on opposite sides of his bed, the nurses moving aside to make room.
"Hello, girls," he said, weakly.
"Sounds like you've had quite a day, Allen," Hanna said.
"Wouldn't recommend it on Trip Adviser," he replied.
"How are you feeling, dear?" Martha asked.
He licked his lips and reached for a cup with a straw to get a drink of water.
Hanna watched his hand shake as he tried to drink. She reached to help him hold it.
"Got some real good drugs running through these hoses," he said gesturing up to the fluid drips hanging beside the bed. "Never felt better."
"Dr. Mason told you about the transplant." It wasn't a question. Hanna knew the doctor had already shared his prognosis with the patient.
Her father just nodded.
"You're going to need to cut back on your schedule," Hanna said.
"Maybe we can take a trip," Martha said, trying to sound cheerful.
Hanna scowled. "You need to take it easy for a while. Get your strength back."
She watched him take another sip from the straw, then he looked back at her. "I have too many open cases pending. I'm going to need your help."
Hanna knew this was coming. "You've got plenty of talented attorneys down there who can pick up the slack."
"But they're not you, daughter."
"Let's not talk about this now," Hanna said, panicking at the thought of stepping into her father's role at Moss Kramer.
Martha made a flourish of looking at her watch. "Dear, get some rest. We'll be back soon. I have a hair appointment but will be right back to see you."
Hanna shook her head and reached for her father's hand. It felt damp and cold and it gave her chills to think of her father's failing health. "You get some rest. They can come and find us if you need anything."
Hanna was sitting alone in the Waiting Room. Martha was still away having her hair done. There was one other family on the far side of the room. Two small children were playing with the toys in the corner. The mother was reading a People magazine. Hanna had been on the phone several times with her office, trying to keep on top of the open cases on her desk. Her assistant and volunteers were trying to pick up the slack while she was away.
She noticed Alex's messages again on her call screen. She knew she had to get this over with sooner or later. She pressed the Return Call button. He picked up on the second ring.
"Hanna!"
She didn't respond.
"How is your father doing?"
"He's okay, but there's a long road ahead."
"I'm sorry." He paused and there was silence on the phone between them. Finally, he said, "You got my messages?"
Hanna sighed and closed her eyes. "Alex, I know you're in a tough situation up there with your father and now all this with your ex."
"Hanna..."
"No, let me get this out," she said. "You need time to see this all through."
"What are you saying?" he asked.
"I don't want to be a distraction."
"You're not a distraction," he insisted.
"I've told Phillip I can't work on your father's case."
"What?"
"Alex, I'm sorry. I let this go too far between us. I just can't be in another relationship this soon." She felt a cold chill as goosebumps flushed all over.
"Hanna, I want to see you."
She didn't respond.
"Hanna?"
<
br /> "I've offered to help Phillip in the background if he needs any assistance with research or motions, but I can't be directly involved anymore... with your father's case... and with you."
"Hanna, please. Let me explain."
"There's no need. You have to work this all out, Alex." She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Goodbye, Alex," and ended the call.
Her phone started buzzing almost immediately and she saw it was Alex, but she didn't answer. She hung her head and took a deep breath to gather herself. Close the chapter, Hanna.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Alex heard his call go to voice mail.
"Hello, this is Hanna Walsh..."
He didn't leave a message. She was leaving him. He had lost her, and he sat stunned in his car as he replayed the conversation in his mind. She thinks she's a distraction, he thought. She's the only sane thing in my life right now.
Then, the more he thought it through, the more he came to realize she was right. He needed time to help his father. He needed time to sort everything out with Adrienne. He needed time to work through this situation with his son, who thought he was just a friend of his mother. Despite all that, he sat heartsick at losing Hanna. He knew he would never meet anyone like her again, anyone who was so right for him.
The thought of having to see Adrienne later tonight sent a surge of anger through him. He knew if it wasn't for the son they now shared, he would have nothing further to do with her. But that wasn't the case. They did have Scotty, and he needed to face that and deal with it.
It was late afternoon and Alex was sitting on a folding chair on the aft deck of his father's shrimp boat, the Maggie Mae. He had been sitting there for over an hour, silently looking out across the river and the boats, thinking about all he had to work through. He was trying to keep Hanna out of his thoughts and focus on the murder case against his father and how he was going to move forward with Adrienne and Scotty.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Phillip Holloway. He answered his cell right away.
"Hello, Alex."
"Phillip, I should have called earlier. The divers found a knife in the water near my father's boat. I'm not sure, but pretty likely it's his knife. The Medical Examiner has it now for prints and blood trace."
"Okay, I'll check with the DA to get everything they have," the attorney said. "Did you get a picture of it we can show to your father?"
"Yes, on my phone," Alex said. "I'll email a copy to you."
"Alex, this is the last thing we needed." Alex didn't respond. "Anything else?" Phillip asked.
"No. I've spoken to several people who were in the bar the night of the fight. I'm not coming up with anything new or any other suspects who may have reason to want Bayes dead."
"Okay, keep asking."
"Phillip, I talked with Hanna this afternoon. She told me she's off the case."
"Right. What's going on between you two?"
"Long story."
Alex walked up the steps to Ella Moore's house, a sense of dread looming over him that he couldn't put out of his mind. One step at a time, he thought, as he knocked on the wood screen door.
Scotty came running to let him in. "Hi, Alex. Mom said we're gonna get some cheeseburgers!"
The boy’s excitement made him forget his dark mood. "You bet. Where's your mom?"
Adrienne came up behind her son and tentatively said, "Hello, Alex."
"You ready to go?" he asked.
"We're ready!" Scotty yelled out.
"Thought we'd walk down to the Dairy Queen. Burgers and a shake. Whaddya think?"
Scotty pulled his mother's arm. "Let's go."
The boy ran out ahead of them as they walked back into town, kicking a stone down the sidewalk.
Adrienne said, "Alex, can we get past last night?"
He didn't answer right away, watching Scotty up in front of them. He decided not to mention Hanna and their breakup. "I don't know. Let's take this a step at a time."
She said, "I need to get Scotty enrolled in school for the fall. He's gonna be in fifth grade. I want him to go to school here."
"Okay," Alex said, hesitantly.
"We're gonna stay with my mother, if the two of us don't kill each other." She didn't explain why.
Alex just kept walking.
"I'm looking for a job. I need to make some money. Mom's a little tight right now."
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I don't know, wait tables, probably."
Alex said, "When are we going to tell him?"
"About you?"
"Yeah, he needs to know."
Adrienne hesitated, then said, "Derek called this afternoon."
"Your husband?"
"Yeah, he wanted to talk with Scotty. He wants us to come back to Florida."
"And what did you say?"
"After he was done talking to Scotty, I told him to go to hell!"
"So," Alex said, "you're definitely through?"
"You know a cheap lawyer?" she asked.
"I used to," he said, and then tried to put Hanna out of his mind.
She gave him a puzzled look. "I'm going to file for divorce."
"Okay,” he responded, glancing over at her with a suspicious look.
She walked on a bit, then said, "Will you be able to spend time with us? If we tell him, I mean. You're gonna be back in Charleston."
He sighed. "Right, but it's not that far away."
"He needs a father," Alex. He needs his real father."
He looked over at her again and the serious look on her face.
"We'll make it work," he finally said.
On the way home from dinner, Alex had them stop at the hardware store. He bought two baseball mitts and a ball. He and Scotty were playing catch on Ella Moore's front yard. The boy was a natural athlete and had a strong arm. Adrienne sat on the porch watching, a big smile on her face. Alex was wrestling with the conflicting thoughts racing through his brain... the joy of playing with his son, the heartbreak of losing Hanna Walsh, the confusion in how to build a life and relationship with Adrienne to support his son. It was all just too much to sort through and he tried to just enjoy the moment with the boy.
He saw Ella Moore come out on the porch and sit next to her daughter. What a family!
Chapter Thirty
Hanna had come back to her father's house in Buckhead an hour earlier after spending much of the afternoon with him down at the hospital. She planned to get some dinner here and then go back to Piedmont Hospital for another visit before he went to sleep for the night. He seemed to strengthen some through the afternoon as the sedation wore off and the doctor and nurses were able to stabilize his pain meds.
She was sitting on the bed in her own room on the second floor of the big house with two windows looking out across the vast estate grounds. The bedroom was much the way she had left it when she went away to college. The room was much larger than her entire apartment back in Charleston. She wasn't wild about the pink walls and decor that had been her preference as a younger girl. Different times, she thought.
The family's long-time housekeeper and cook, Anna Parsons, was down in the kitchen making a quick dinner of salad and steamed vegetables for her. Martha had left earlier to go out to dinner with friends, her support group, she had said.
She raised her feet up on the familiar old queen-size bed and propped two pillows behind her. Though she tried to push thoughts of Alex away, she was failing miserably. She couldn't help remembering the many close and happy times they had spent together these past months. Different times, she thought again, her despair spiraling downward.
Her phone on the bed beside her lit up and she saw Detective Lonnie Smith's name on the caller ID. Hopefully, they've found Jenna Hall and her son, she thought as she answered the call.
"Lonnie, hi." He didn't answer right away, and alarms went off in Hanna's brain. "Lonnie, what is it?"
His vo
ice was low and subdued. "Hanna, I'm really sorry. We found Jenna..."
"What's happened?" she cried out.
"We found her in an alley downtown. She'd been beaten... she's dead, Hanna."
"Oh my God!" Hanna felt a surge of nausea race through her gut. She took several deep breaths to try to calm herself. "What about the boy?" she managed to ask.
"We haven't found him, yet."
"It had to be Moe Hall, the father, right?" she asked.
"We're not sure, but he's obviously first on our list of suspects. We have an "all points" out on him.
Hanna didn't think her gloom could grow any deeper. Shouldn't it be easier to find him if he has the boy with him?" she asked hopefully.
"If they're together, yes," Lonnie said. "We don't know for sure."
"Oh Lonnie, I wanted to do more..."
"You did all you could, Hanna. Sometimes people just can't accept our help."
"Have you called Greta down at the shelter?" she asked.
"No, you're my first call."
Hanna said, "Let me call her."
"Okay," she heard the detective say. "Hanna, listen, I heard from Alex. He told me about the two of you. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too, Lonnie," she said. "Not meant to be."
Hanna skipped dinner and said goodbye to her friend and confidant, Anna Parsons, in the kitchen of the big house. She drove back to the hospital for another visit with her father. He was in a lot of pain and they had his meds pumped up. He hadn't been very coherent. He did make another appeal for her to come "home" to Atlanta. She hadn't responded to his plea.
She was on the expressway now, an hour out of Atlanta on her way back to Charleston. She had called Greta Muskovicz earlier and the two women had cried together on the loss of the young woman, Jenna Hall. Greta had promised to call if there was any news of the son, William.
Hanna drove on, numb in her grief for Jenna Hall. Such a beautiful and young life taken needlessly.
Suddenly, the thought of being alone in her small apartment over the legal clinic was more than she could tolerate. She looked ahead at the approaching headlights on Highway 20, coming into Augusta. She decided to go to the beach for the night, to the house on Pawleys Island.
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