Beauty in Hiding

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Beauty in Hiding Page 20

by Robin Patchen


  He squeezed her hand and looked around the drab room, his eyes settling on the monitors beside him before he focused on her again. “I’m alive, I guess.”

  She let out a short laugh. “That you are, thank God.”

  He started to smile, but the look faded. His eyes widened, and he held her hand tighter. “Derrick. He was there.”

  Uh-oh. He was awake but not as lucid as he’d first seemed. “We’re still in New Hampshire. What would Derrick be doing here?”

  “He was there. He found me.”

  “That’s imposs—”

  “Listen to me.”

  She quieted at the urgency in his voice.

  “I called him yesterday from Steve’s phone.”

  No, no, no. Harper covered her mouth with her palm.

  “I showed him where I was with that pin-thing.” Red’s voice quivered. “He told me how.” Tears filled the old man’s eyes. “He told me not to tell you. Said he wanted to surprise you.” His grip loosened. “I’m just a foolish old man. I believed him.”

  “It’s okay.” Harper worked to keep her voice steady, to keep him calm. She glanced at the monitor, saw his heart rate had increased. “It’s fine. It’s okay that he’s here.”

  Tears filled the old man’s eyes as he looked away. “He almost killed me. Put a pillow over my face. Tried to smother me.”

  She sat heavily in the chair. “I should have… I tried to—”

  Red met her gaze. “Tried to what? Did you know he might…?” His voice was filled not with accusation but surprise.

  She took his hand. “I didn’t want you to know.”

  “You need to tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Remember how sick you got those last few days before we left?”

  He nodded, eyes narrowed.

  “He was poisoning your Gatorade. That’s why I made you drink that whole weekend, to get the poison out of your system.”

  His eyes narrowed. “It was vodka, wasn’t it? You kept calling it medicine, but—”

  “It’s an antidote to ethylene glycol. Antifreeze. Not the best one, certainly not the easiest one. I didn’t want to take you to a hospital.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask why, because after the scare he’d had, the last thing he needed was to be reminded of the bodies in his living room.

  “You were trying to protect Derrick. And trying to protect me from knowing the truth.”

  She nodded and swallowed the half-truth. Mostly she’d been trying to protect herself and Red from whoever had killed those men.

  “You took good care of me.” He looked away. “My own grandson…”

  She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to soften the blow for this kind, gentle man. “He’s just… He’s in too deep.”

  They were silent for a few minutes. His heart rate returned to normal. He kept his gaze away from her when he said, “I guess I should have just given him the money.”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  “I’ll keep telling myself that.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Look at me.”

  Slowly, his head turned toward her. She leaned a little closer. “You’ve been nothing but good to him. He got himself into a terrible mess, and now he doesn’t know how to get out of it.”

  He stared at the ceiling. “He couldn’t go through with it. All of a sudden, I couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fight. I thought I was a goner. And then, he just let up.”

  “Thank God.” At least Derrick had a sliver of decency left in him.

  “I was ready to go see my Bebe. I was ready.” He met her eyes again. “If anything happens to me, I want you to know, whenever the Lord wants to take me home, I’m ready.”

  “Don’t say—”

  “I’m glad, though.” He took a breath. “Glad he didn’t do it. Glad he doesn’t have to live with that on top of everything else.”

  “Me, too,” Harper said. Not for Derrick’s sake. Derrick deserved whatever he got. But she couldn’t imagine losing Red. Not now. Not yet. Please, God, not by murder.

  There was a soft knock. Harper waited for a nurse to walk in. When none did, she stood and opened the door. Jack and Garrison stood outside. Jack said, “How is he?”

  “Come on in.”

  She stepped aside, and Jack came into the room, bringing his steady presence with him. “Hey, Red. How you feeling?”

  While Red answered, Garrison gripped Harper’s arm. “We need to talk.”

  Jack pulled up a chair. He sent her a quick nod, then focused on Red.

  She didn’t want to walk away, but they weren’t giving her much choice. “Be right back.”

  Red waved her out, and she followed Garrison down a corridor and into a room not much larger than the exam room she’d just left. It was like a waiting room. Lining the walls were chairs interspersed with a table here and there.

  Inside were two men. She recognized them both—regulars at McNeal’s. She’d heard one called Chief. The other was the guy with the drawl she’d served her first day at work. They stood when she walked in, straight and solid. Were they going to arrest her right here?

  She turned to Garrison. “Please, don’t let them—”

  “Don’t worry,” Garrison said. “I’m on your side.”

  Right. She’d heard that before. The cops in Vegas had told her to trust them, too. She wasn’t stupid enough to get herself into the same mess twice. Jack had promised to take care of Red. She’d tell whoever these people were everything, but not alone. “I want a lawyer.”

  Garrison sighed. “You’re not in custody. We’re not here to question you or arrest you. We’re trying to protect you and Red. We think Derrick is here.”

  “Oh.” The icy backbone she’d pretended melted away, and she collapsed into a chair. “Yes. Red said the same thing.”

  Garrison stepped inside. “These are friends of mine. Brady Thomas.”

  The taller and older of the two, the one they called Chief, stepped forward and shook her hand.

  “And this is Eric Nolan.” The younger one did the same, and then they both sat.

  “Brady’s the Nutfield Chief of Police, and Eric’s a detective.”

  “You work at McNeal’s, right?” the chief asked.

  “Uh-huh. You’re here because of what Red said?”

  Chief Thomas nodded once. “Seems the other older gentleman, Steve, thought Mr. Burns was hallucinating, but based on what we learned from Garrison and your friend”—he glanced at a small notebook—“Jack Rossi, it seems it’s possible this Derrick person may have tried to kill his grandfather.”

  She nodded, swallowed. “Red said he tried to smother him, but then… I guess he couldn’t go through with it.”

  “But he’s tried before?” the chief clarified.

  “I can’t prove it, but he put antifreeze in Red’s drinks.”

  “You should have called the police right away.”

  She chuckled, though she felt anything but amused. “Things got a little out of hand.”

  Chief Thomas glanced at Garrison, who said, “That’s a long story. It’s not relevant to this discussion.”

  The chief stared at Garrison another moment, then said, “You’ll tell me later,” and turned back to Harper. “I’ll contact the Manchester PD, and I’ll have all the surrounding departments on the lookout for Burns. I’ve already spoken to hospital security, and they have his photo and know to keep an eye out for him.”

  She glanced at Garrison, then back at this man. These total strangers, these cops, were on her side? They were going to help her protect Red?

  She didn’t have to do it alone.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, to hide the emotion that bubbled up inside of her. “Sorry. I’m just… Thank you.”

  “Just doing my job,” the man said.

  The other cop, Eric, snatched a couple of tissues from a box on a table, stood, and handed them to her. “Here you go, ma’am.”

  Ma’am. He alm
ost sounded like home.

  She dried her cheeks and reined in her emotions. “Thank you.”

  “I’m a little curious, though.” The chief looked from her to Garrison and back. “Why would you need a lawyer?”

  Garrison stood. “Part of that long story.”

  “Sounds like a story I need to hear now,” the chief said.

  Garrison just laughed. “Thanks for coming, guys. I’ll take it from here.” He shuffled the two cops out the door.

  After they walked out, Sam walked in. Garrison closed the door while Sam sat beside Harper. “I’m working on putting together a group of people who can sit with Red. I’ll help, of course. And Jack suggested Ginny, his real estate—”

  “Wait.” Harper leaned away. What was she talking about? “That’s my job. I don’t need help.”

  Garrison sat on the other side of her. “You have to go to Maryland and get this cleared up.”

  “What?” She turned to him, tried to figure out what he’d said. “I can’t do that. I have to stay. He had a heart attack. He needs me.”

  “The hospital is keeping him for a couple of days. You can get to Maryland and back before he’s released.”

  “But what if they arrest me? What if they throw me in jail?”

  On her other side, Sam took her hand, but Harper snatched it away and stood. She turned to face them. “No. I can’t.”

  A knock sounded, and then Jack stepped in.

  She stared at him. Did he know what was going on?

  Whose side was he on? She hadn’t done anything wrong, but they were all against her.

  “Why aren’t you with Red?”

  “A couple of cops came in to take his statement.” He turned to Garrison. “Friends of yours?”

  Garrison nodded. “She met them.”

  “What’d you tell them?” Jack asked.

  “Nothing about the murders,” Garrison said. “Just about Derrick.”

  Jack stared at the man a moment, then focused on her. “You okay?”

  “He wants me to leave Gramps here and go to Maryland.”

  Garrison rose, too. They seemed to be in some sort of three-person stand-off. Garrison blew out a breath. “What did you think, that you were just going to be able to pretend it didn’t happen? Two men have been murdered, Harper. You have information about those murders. They have evidence—”

  “I didn’t do anything. What evidence could they have?”

  “I don’t know,” Garrison said. “I do know that as we speak, technicians are combing the Burns house, looking for more.”

  “Why? How would they—?”

  “I called them,” he said. “I told them the Cadillac likely belonged to Red Burns.”

  Panic rose like a tornado in May. “They didn’t die at the house!” Her voice was too high, but she couldn’t control it. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill anybody.”

  Jack took her hand. “Until you go and tell them your side of the story—”

  “I can’t! They won’t believe me. They’ll throw me in prison. And then Red—”

  “He’ll be taken care of.” The words came from Sam. She stood and walked to Harper’s other side. “We’ll take care of him until you get back. That’s what I started to tell you. Somebody’s going to stay with him, either in his room or outside his door, constantly until his grandson is located. And hospital security will be watching out for him.”

  So Red would be protected. At least for now. And she’d turn herself in. She could already feel the handcuffs. “But what if…?” She looked at Garrison, at Sam. Then she focused on Jack. “What if they don’t believe me? What if I don’t come back?”

  “If the worst happens,” he said, “I’ll hire you the best attorney money can buy. You didn’t do it. They won’t convict you.”

  “But what about when Red gets out of the hospital?”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Jack said. “God forbid you end up in jail, I’ll take him back to Maryland. I’ll stay with him until you can again. And I’ll be close.”

  “What? You can’t—”

  “And I’m going with you tonight.”

  Tonight.

  They wanted her to go now.

  To face the nightmare she’d left in Maryland.

  To tell the police everything.

  To trust that this time, this time, the justice system would get it right.

  And then, his words registered. “You’re coming with me?”

  “Of course.” He stepped closer, kissed her forehead. “We’re in this together.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Derrick cursed himself again.

  Why had he let up? Another thirty seconds, a minute at most, and Gramps would have been dead. There would have been no autopsy for an eighty-five-year-old man with health problems. Nobody would have questioned it.

  Derrick could have slipped out the back door, returned to Maryland, and been there to receive the sad news that his grandfather had passed away.

  And then he would have inherited everything. He wouldn’t have had the money within a week, but knowing the inheritance was coming would have satisfied Quentin.

  Now… Now he had no idea what to do. Because now Gramps knew how desperate Derrick was. And Harper had already known. Had they told the police? Were they looking for him?

  Derrick had been in his rental in the hospital parking lot for hours. He’d followed the ambulance here. Then, he saw Harper arrive with a man. Was it Jack, the man Gramps had told him about? Were they together now?

  The anger rose again. Harper belonged to Derrick. He’d rescued her from that dreary life in Vegas, wiping geriatric butts for a living, working two jobs just to make ends meet. He’d loved her, provided a home for her, given her gifts. He’d tried to be the man she wanted, the man she needed. And she’d betrayed him. And apparently, she’d already moved on.

  As if Derrick had never mattered at all.

  But he did matter. He did! If Harper didn’t see that… Why didn’t Harper see that? Why didn’t she realize what kind of man Derrick was? How important he was?

  Well, if she didn’t, who cared? He’d show her. He’d show them all.

  He itched to hit a casino, to prove his worth once and for all. To fix this with one hand of cards. He’d do it, too. Except right now, Quentin had no idea where Derrick was. If he set foot in any casino in the country, Quentin would hear about it. And the last thing Derrick needed was to have another run-in with the loan shark and his goons. He had nothing to give them. The cash he’d gotten from Roger was nearly gone, thanks to the wild goose chase he’d been on this week.

  So a casino was out. Derrick could run, far and fast. Except Quentin would eventually find him. Derrick knew how Quentin dealt with people who tried to skip out on their debts.

  He rubbed his eyes, as he’d done a thousand times since Vegas, to assure himself they were both there.

  No, running away wasn’t an option. He had to get the money to pay Quentin back. And he only had a couple more days to do it.

  Assuming Gramps remembered what happened, would anybody believe him? Nobody had seen Derrick in town, and the dementia sometimes made Gramps say crazy things. Maybe if Harper hadn’t figured out about the poison, nobody would believe Gramps now.

  Except Harper would believe him. And if she hadn’t put two-and-two together about the Gatorade before, she probably would now.

  So… Derrick would come up with a plan. He could deny he’d been at the other man’s house, deny he’d smothered his grandfather. He could admit to having been in New Hampshire, tell the police he’d come to find his grandfather. That Harper had stolen him away, and he’d been searching. All that was true. And plausible.

  He could say he’d gone to the food bank where Gramps had called him from and watched, but the place was deserted by the time he got there. So he’d planned to go back the next day. He’d been watching for them. That made sense, right?

  It would be Derrick’s word against Gramps’s.

&nbs
p; Without evidence, nobody could convict him.

  But they could arrest him.

  He’d seen two men arrive earlier who looked like cops. Their dark sedan was still parked against the curb near the ER doors. They were probably taking statements right this moment.

  Derrick had to get out of there.

  He had to figure out how to keep tabs on Harper without following her too closely.

  He mulled the problem over. Would she stay with the guy in the pickup? Would that eventually lead Derrick to where she lived? Maybe he could duct tape a cell phone to the bottom of the truck, then use an app to track it.

  There had to be a cheaper option. He pulled out his cell and searched for ideas. Yes, a GPS tracker that would report their every move, and it was on sale at a store in town. It was a risk to leave here, but surely Gramps wouldn’t be released from the hospital anytime soon. Harper would stay by his side. So Derrick should have time.

  He backed out of his parking space and drove down the aisle where the pickup had parked, snapping a photo of its license plate, just in case. If the truck was gone when Derrick returned, Tank could track it for him. The private investigator had sworn off helping him, but the man could be persuaded.

  He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the store, where he bought two trackers, just in case he needed one for Harper’s car, too, assuming he ever found it. He was back in thirty minutes. The pickup was still there. Derrick parked close to it, downloaded the app he’d need to track the devices. When he had a strong signal, he made sure nobody was watching and duct-taped the tracker to the underside of the pickup. Not exactly the way the instructions had written it up, and if the truck went through puddles, the device would likely be ruined, but he had no other choices right now.

  Derrick climbed back into his rental and drove away. At least he had that problem solved. By the time he figured out where Harper was staying, he’d have made a plan.

  He could still make this work. He had to get the money out of Gramps. Derrick had failed to kill him, and now Gramps would change his will. Which meant Derrick would have to find a way to compel Gramps to hand over the money.

  Gramps wouldn’t do it to save Derrick’s life. He’d already made that clear. But he’d do anything to save Harper’s.

 

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