by P. J. Cowan
Conscious of Muncie moaning softly beside her she did her best to turn the truck without jerky movements and accelerated smoothly away from the house. As they bumped onto the main road Austin caught a flash of white in the trees.
“Look. Is that a car?” she asked.
“I think I’m going to pass out.” Muncie answered.
Austin slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The truck hesitated, then surged forward, picking up speed.
Chapter 19
There were so many questions Austin wanted answered, but Muncie was in no shape to answer them. She’d concentrated on keeping him awake, having heard somewhere that that was important if someone had a head injury. She didn’t know if it was true but she wasn’t going to take any chances.
Who had attacked Muncie? Was it Will? She had been so sure he was telling the truth about his father and why he had run from the police. While he told the story she had almost been able to feel his frustration and anger, could see the Mercedes slide lazily down the hill. But there were pathological liars, people who lied so convincingly even they believed it. Maybe he was one of those. How would she know? Had she put Muncie in danger by not turning Will in when she had the chance?
The only thing she’d done since arriving at the hospital, aside from pacing, was to call Janice. Now, hearing the quick tap of hurried steps she looked up to see Janice hurrying across the waiting room toward her.
“Austin, what happened? Is he ok?” She looked as upset as Austin felt.
“They say it’s a concussion, maybe not so bad. They said they’d come tell me more soon.”
“What happened?” Janice said, repeating herself.
Austin led Janice to a quiet corner of the waiting room and they both sat down. Taking a deep breath Austin said, “Someone attacked him from behind. They hit him in the head, with – with a hammer. He was working at the Lake House, in one of the bedrooms and he says the next thing he knew he was on his knees. He doesn’t even remember getting hit the first time. He says all he remembers is being on his knees and then the person hitting him again, only it missed his head and hit his shoulder. He went down anyway and must have been hit again because he blacked out.”
“My God, that’s horrible. First Bunny, now Muncie. Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know,” Austin said quietly. She shut her eyes for a moment, rubbed her temples. Then she opened her eyes and looking at Janice said hesitantly. “I need to tell you about Will.” She told the story of Will’s appearance at the store and her idea of getting him to turn himself in to the police.
“So maybe what I did was let a murderer into my house. Maybe he was after me but he got scared when Muncie drove up. Could that be what set him after Muncie? Did he get scared and did that make him mad enough so that he tracked Muncie down, found him at The Lake House, and he tried to bash in his head with a hammer? Is it my fault that Muncie got attacked. I hired Will in the first place. Maybe it’s my fault that Bunny’s dead too.”
“But you were so sure it couldn’t be Will,” said Janice. “And even if it was him, that doesn’t make it your fault. Please Austin, don’t take this on yourself. You did not kill Bunny or do anything wrong. You did not hurt your brother.” Janice patted Austin’s arm. “Let’s sit down. Have you had anything to eat or drink today?”
Austin shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t want anything.”
Ignoring her, Janice strode away, only to return a short while later with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. Austin took a sip and nodded her gratitude. She and Janice sat down to wait.
Janice continued to try to convince Austin that she was not to blame for Muncie’s injuries.
“We don’t even know for sure that it was Will,” she argued. “We don’t know why Bunny was killed or why Muncie was attacked. How do we know they are even connected?”
“They have to be. It’s not like this is some crime ridden city, this is our quiet little town. When was our last homicide, five years ago, and that was a stranger, right?”
“That’s right. The first summer you spent in Spruce. I remember because my folks were worried you’d get the wrong impression.”
“She was a clerk at some store, like Bunny?”
“I think so. Hey, what are you thinking? The police decided it was a hobo. Someone who came into town took her out near the train yards and killed her.”
“Crushed her skull with a metal pipe, is what they said.”
“Don’t remind me” said Janice with a shudder.
“Did I tell you the police discovered Bunny had been beaten over the head and knocked unconscious, maybe was already dead before she was stabbed with the trowel?” Austin asked.
“I didn’t, but you’re starting to creep me out.”
“I wonder how strong a person would have to be to kill someone that way?”
“Okay, that’s enough. I think you should leave all this speculation to the . . .”
“Austin Ward?” A nurse called from the doorway leading to the Emergency Room. Austin and Janice followed her to the nurses’ station where a doctor joined them.
“Your brother is going to be fine,” he told Austin reassuringly. “As we expected, the x-rays show no sign of a fracture. We are assuming he sustained only a mild concussion. We want to keep him overnight, just for observation, however I’m fairly sure we’ll be able to release him in the morning.”
“Can I, can we, see him?” asked Austin.
“The police are talking to him right now, and he’s filling out a report, but you can go back if you like. They will probably want to speak with you as well. The nurse will show you the way.”
The sharp medicinal smell so specific to hospitals was strong, triggering Austin’s memory of that night she'd arrived to see her mother one last time, only to learn she was too late. She fought the urge to turn and leave, and instead meekly followed Janice and the nurse into the back. They walked quietly past rows of curtained rooms, each with its own gurney and baffling array of life saving equipment until they reached Muncie’s.
He was sitting on the edge of a gurney, his feet dangling, a white gauze bandage wrapped around his head. He was speaking softly to two police officers, one who seemed to be asking questions, the other scribbling notes on a small notepad. Muncie introduced Austin and Janice to the officers and immediately the offices asked Austin to step into the hall with them. Janice stayed behind with Muncie.
“Do you think the attack on your brother is related to the attack on Naomi? Why did you go to The Lake House? Were your brother and Naomi involved?”
The officer’s questions came fast, and though she tried to answer them as thoroughly as possible, they did not seem happy with her answers. She was beginning to lose her temper, and was close to bursting out with something rude about why they weren’t out looking for the killer, when she heard a familiar voice.
“Excuse me.”
She turned to see Blake striding toward her. He swept up and protectively put his arm around her shoulders. “You all right?”
She nodded. Blake finally acknowledged the presence of the two policemen. “Ms. Ward has had a real rough day. I’m taking her home. If you want to talk to her, call her lawyer. You have a lawyer, don’t you, Austin.”
“No,” she said, “I don’t.”
“That’s okay we’ll get you one. Ms. Ward’s attorney will be contacting your department. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He gently steered Austin away, and before she knew it they were passing through the front door of the hospital.
“That was impressive.” she said once she was safely seated inside his rental car. “But I have to let Muncie know what’s going on and my friend Janice is still in there. I left my stupid phone on the charger.”
Blake handed her his cell phone. From the calm of Blake’s car she called Janice.
“Blake showed up while the police were asking me about what happened. He sort of dragged me out of there. I really don’t want to deal with any more questions right now.
Do you think. . .”
“Of course I’ll stay with Muncie,” Janice said, without waiting for Austin to finish. “I’ll stay until he’s settled in a room and then call you at home.
“Thank you so much Janice.”
“Don’t thank me, just go home and get some rest.”
“I am. Quit nagging.”
“Right, that’s going to happen,” Janice said, and hung up.
Austin handed Blake his phone and said, “Thank you for the rescue.”
“That’s me,” he replied, “the white knight. May I drive the lady home?”
“I have my truck.”
“But you look like you shouldn’t be driving it.”
“Don’t be silly. I drove Muncie to the hospital didn’t I?”
“That’s different. You were running on adrenaline then. I bet you’re exhausted. Yes?”
Austin nodded. “I’m a little shaky, yes.”
“Then don’t argue.
“I don’t think I have the energy to argue.”
“Good.”
“Blake?”
“Yeah,” he asked, as he started the car.
“Why were you at the hospital? How did you know I was there?”
“I didn’t know. I was there to visit someone.”
“But I thought you didn’t know anyone around here.”
“You and my real estate gal are about it, that’s true. She fell off her horse and broke her leg this morning. She left me a message because we had an appointment today, so I thought I’d drop in, get her some flowers, tell her not to worry about anything. You know.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Sweet? Well, that’s not exactly how I’d put it. Just wanted to make sure she didn’t need anything.”
“Did you even get a chance to see her?”
“No, but that’s okay. They don’t keep you in the hospital long for a break you know. She might have already checked out. Anyway, I’m just glad I was there to get those cops off you. Not real clear on what was going on back there but I could see you weren’t happy about it. Guess you’ll tell me about it someday, when you feel like it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hide anything.” Austin then filled Blake in on what had happened in her life since the last time that she’d seen him. She told him about Bunny’s murder and the attack on Muncie and even a little about Muncie’s suspicions about Will. By the time they pulled up to her house he was as up-to-date on what was going on as she was, and as puzzled.
They were still discussing it as they got out of his car, and it seemed perfectly natural that Blake should walk her to the door and that she would invite him in for a cup of coffee.
As they stepped over the threshold and Austin switched on the lights she realized she was happy that Blake was there. She did not want to be alone. Night would come soon. Host of the darkness and of her fear, and she could not face it, not just yet.
“Got anything to drink?” Blake asked. “I think we could both use a shot of something.”
Austin agreed. “Beer? Tequila?”
“Yes, those sound about right.”
Austin laughed and shrugging off her coat, walked into the kitchen to get both. “Just hang your coat right there, by the door,” she said, gesturing to the coat rack.
“I have to warn you this Tequila’s pretty old,” she said. “I think it was left over from a fourth of July barbecue.”
“I promise not to complain,” he said.
Austin placed two shot glasses and the bottle of tequila on the counter that divided the kitchen from the dining room. Blake carried them to the dining room table and Austin took two cold beers from the refrigerator and joined him.
“Any luck with the property search?” she asked, after she’d taken a seat.
“Don’t you want to talk about your brother and all the things that have been going on?”
“No. I absolutely do not want to talk about it, or think about it. I appreciate your talking to me about all this on the way here but right now I just want to forget, for a little while.”
He lifted one of the shot glasses. “In that case…”
Austin picked up her drink as well. They clinked glasses and emptied them. Blake smiled as Austin gasped and took a big pull of beer to ease the burn in her throat.
“You were right, that is some nasty stuff,” he said. He refilled their glasses but didn’t drink again. Instead, he reached across the table and put his hand on top of Austin’s. His long fingers stroked the back of her hand. She could not meet his eyes. She watched as his fingers slid up the back of her hand to her wrist and then traveled slowly up her arm, barely touching the cotton fabric of her blouse but sending goose bumps up her spine. She hadn’t been touched in so long. She knew she should probably pull away, say something amusing, turn it into a joke. She barely knew him. She closed her eyes.
His response was to stand up and move behind her. She felt his hands rest on her shoulders and then they were sliding down her arms, his touch firmer this time. She kept her eyes closed as his hands slid back up to her shoulders, resting there, his fingers touching the bare skin above her collarbone. Then his hands slid across the front of her blouse and his fingers fumbled with the top button.
Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright.
“Wait,” she demanded. “Stop.” She practically jumped to her feet, almost upsetting her chair and he backed up a step. She swung around to face him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for . . .” She began to explain, to apologize.
He reached up and his hand was in her hair, tangled in it, pulling her forward. He took a step, pressing himself against her. She could smell the sharp tang of tequila on his breath. She jerked free. Red faced and determined she pushed him away.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what? I haven’t done anything,” he said. “Yet.”
He reached for her again and this time he kissed her, or at least tried to. His lips were on her mouth and his hands around her waist but she turned her head quickly to the side and struggled to break free.
Austin felt trapped, her breath came fast, shallow panting breaths that weren’t enough to fill her lungs. She would have fallen to her knees, too weak to stand, if Blake hadn’t been holding her.
The doorbell rang.
Blake let her go.
The moment she was free, strength flowed back into her body. She stumbled away from Blake and toward the door, toward rescue.
Blake stopped her. He put his hand on her arm and pulled her around.
“I don’t know what that was that just happened. I don’t know why you got so scared but I didn’t do a thing to you. You remember that. I didn’t do a thing.”
Austin looked down at the fingers wrapped around her upper arm and Blake released his hold.
“Austin, honest I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Blake’s tone had changed from angry to conciliatory in an instant. “Please Austin. I wouldn’t have done anything you didn’t want.”
The doorbell rang again.
“It’s okay,” Austin lied, annoyed by the quiver in her voice. She pushed her fingers through her hair, tugged down the front of her blouse. “We’ll talk about it later. Maybe I overreacted. I can get freaked out when someone holds me too tight, like I can’t breathe, you know?”
Blake nodded, though Austin could tell it was less an agreement with what she was saying, than an acknowledgment that whatever had happened between them was over.
“I’d better get the door,” Austin said.
Blake nodded, looking somewhat dazed. She imagined she wore a similar expression.
Austin paused at the door to run her fingers through her hair again and then opened it. Mark was standing there. His hand raised to knock on the door. Surprised to see her therapist she didn’t know what to say.
“Austin. Sorry. I know you weren’t expecting me,” he explained. “Your friend Janice Simmons called me this afternoon. She left a message that your brother ha
d been hurt and that you might want to see me. If this is a bad time I’d be happy to leave.”
“No, this isn’t a bad time. Please come in.” Austin opened the door and stepped aside.
“Thank you,” he said, stepping across the threshold. Then, seeing Blake, he stopped.
Austin stepped into the living room. “Mark, this is my friend Blake, um Blake?”
“Roberts,” Blake supplied, stepping forward to shake Mark’s hand.
“Mark is helping me.” Austin said without explaining further. “He’s here to talk to me about Muncie.”
“Cop?” Blake snapped, with what Austin thought was a bit too much hostility.
“No,” said Austin. “Just a friend.”
“I see. Well I was just leaving. Austin, can I call you later?”
“Of course.”
“All right then. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m sorry. . .”
“Don’t be sorry. We’ll work it out later.”
He leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, then took his coat and left. Austin shut the door behind him.”
“Sorry for the interruption,” Mark said.
“You aren’t interrupting,” Austin reassured him. Blake really was just leaving. He drove me home from the hospital because I was too upset to drive.”
Austin suddenly realized that the top of her blouse was gaping and felt a blush blaze across her face. To hide it she turned away. “Let me tidy up a bit and I’ll be right there. Just take a seat anywhere. Oh, and you can hang your coat up there by the door if you like.”
Mark looked around the living room, with its old wood plank floors and river rock fireplace, and chose a comfortable chair, placed to catch the warm slant of afternoon sunlight streaming through the big picture window.
“I like your house,” he said as Austin returned.
“It’s old and sort of beat up.”
“But comfortable and sort of, friendly,” he offered.
“Yeah, I think so too,” Austin agreed. She had buttoned her blouse, run a comb through her hair and made faces at herself in the mirror.
“Would you like something to drink? Beer? Soda?”