by Lynne Hinton
“Yes, I guess so. I was with your father late last week and over the weekend. Then I came back on Monday, and that’s when we went to the clinic and then here.”
Evangeline nodded. They were just outside the door when all of a sudden the nursing assistant came running out. She was startled to see the two women, immediately recognized Evangeline as the daughter of the patient, and was about to complain about her father, when she took a closer look at Megan.
“Oh, my!” she said and fell back into the room.
THIRTEEN
“You’re …” The nursing assistant was at a loss for words. “You’re … you’re that movie star?” She had regained her balance and was standing before them. The door to the room had pushed her forward. Her eyes were wide with excitement. “I love your work!”
Megan smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Megan Flint,” she introduced herself. Her tone was humble, her kindness genuine.
“I know!” the hospital employee exclaimed. “I loved you in Too Far Away!” Her face reddened. She reached out and took the young woman’s extended hand.
“That was a very special movie for me too,” Megan replied. “Thank you so much.”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” She yanked Megan into a big hug.
“Oh, well, thank you.” Megan tried to pull away, startled by the overwhelming affection.
As Evangeline watched the encounter, it all began to make sense: the hat and sunglasses, the way Megan could so easily get what she wanted from hospital security guards, the stares from the women at the nurses’ station as they passed. Megan Flint wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She wasn’t just a client and the girlfriend of a Hollywood director. She was a celebrity.
Eve had forgotten about that role in society. In her years at the convent, she had become unfamiliar with how people longed for fame, longed to be in the limelight, longed to be close to those who were famous. She watched Megan and realized that kind of pressure must be somewhat intense, maybe even unwelcome.
“What are you doing here?” the nursing assistant asked. “You aren’t sick, are you? Oh, please tell me you aren’t sick!”
Megan shook her head and held her hand to her chest. “Oh, no,” she answered, drawing out the word no.
“Well, that’s a relief,” the woman responded.
An angry voice bellowed from behind them, “Do you mind?”
“You’re not related to him, are you?” She pointed behind her and rolled her eyes. “Because if you are, then you have my sympathies.” She seemed to realize once again that Evangeline was standing right there.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Divine.” She was clearly embarrassed.
Evangeline took in a breath, calming herself. “It’s Diveen,” she explained.
“Right, I’m sorry.”
Evangeline nodded and the three women stood together awkwardly at the door.
“Oh, goodness, what am I thinking? Can I have your autograph, Miss Flint?” the nursing assistant asked. She patted her pockets, searching for a piece of paper, and then held open the chart she was holding and a pen.
Evangeline could see that the young movie star was being asked to sign her autograph in her father’s medical chart, on a progress note, to be exact. She was about to point out the inappropriateness of such a request when the Captain yelled once more for the chitchat in the hall to be done elsewhere.
Megan quickly signed her name and handed over the pen to her fan. “Thank you for all the good work you do here at the hospital,” she said, her voice thick and sugary.
“Oh, it’s a pleasure,” the nursing assistant responded.
The Captain yelled again and she closed the chart.
“Well, I mean, most of the time,” she said, whispering. “I guess I need to go.” She backed away from the door and the two women. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she added.
“Can’t you please take it somewhere else?” The patient’s voice was loud enough for others in the hall to hear.
Everyone standing around in the corridor and at the nurses’ station at the other end stopped and stared in the direction of the three women.
“I better go,” the nursing assistant whispered. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Megan said, touching the woman on the arm.
“Well,” Evangeline noted as the hospital employee quickly hurried away, “we’re in luck! I’d say he’s awake.”
And the two of them headed into the room.
FOURTEEN
“I told you that I don’t drink decaf!” the man growled as the door opened.
“Well, maybe decaf’s not such a bad idea,” Evangeline responded as she entered with Megan, closing the door behind them. She moved over to his bedside.
“I thought you were that ridiculous excuse for a nurse.”
“Do you think you might tone it down just a bit?”
“That girl tried to give me the wrong medication!” he yelled. “She could have killed me!”
Evangeline rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to scream. And she’s not the nurse, she’s the nursing assistant.”
He placed his arm across his forehead and closed his eyes. “Well, that explains why she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Why do the nurses need assistants? Can’t they do their own jobs? Who was doing all the talking? I’m trying to take a nap.”
“I think you know Miss Flint,” Evangeline said, motioning their guest forward.
“Oh, Jackson,” the young woman said, moving over to the bed and taking him by the hand. “I’m so sorry you’ve been hospitalized.”
Evangeline was surprised by the transformation. She had never seen her father so affected by a woman. The reaction was not at all what she expected. He smiled at the visitor, turned quickly to his daughter, then again to the other woman, and tried to sit up a bit in his bed. “Megan?” he asked. “What are you doing in New Mexico? I figured you’d be back in L.A. now that they found … the body.”
She squeezed his hand and let go to pull a tissue from her purse. “I stayed to hear the autopsy report,” she replied as she wiped her eyes. She put the tissue in the pocket of her coat. “He was murdered, Captain Divine. I just can’t believe it.”
Evangeline stepped out of the way to make more room for Megan. She watched with interest to see how the Captain would respond.
He reached up for her hand again, and when she placed it near him, he patted it gently. “I heard this morning. I’m so very sorry,” he said, with a voice more gentle than Evangeline thought the Captain capable of. “And you’ve been here all week?” he asked. “Did you see his body?”
The young woman nodded tearfully.
“I met Miss Flint on Monday,” Evangeline announced, speaking from behind the young woman as she tried to join the intimate conversation. “And then we ran into each other again this morning in the morgue.”
“What were you doing down in the morgue, Eve?” he asked.
She didn’t reply.
“She came to pray for Chaz,” Megan answered for her.
Evangeline couldn’t tell if the young woman was covering for her or had really believed that was what she was doing there. Whatever the reason for the assistance, she was grateful.
“Anyway, it was terrible,” Megan continued. “I had to sneak down there like some criminal.” She wiped the tear that had fallen down her cheek. “His wife is here,” she added. She seemed to think the Captain would understand. “She was here Monday, too, when I came with Eve and Daniel.”
Evangeline peeked around her to see his reaction.
“Oh,” he answered. “That must have been ugly.”
“She started screaming like a banshee. I was rudely escorted out of the emergency department. It was humiliating.” With all the flair of Hollywood, she turned her head away.
“I’m so sorry,” the Captain said, patting her hand again.
Evangeline studied the two of them, unsure of which one was the most interesting to observe. Both wer
e giving quite stellar performances, she thought, and she was impressed by how they seemed to play off each other.
“Eve, did you know Megan was a Golden Globe nominee?” he asked, smiling.
“Oh, that was almost three years ago,” she said, practicing modesty. “And I didn’t win,” she added.
“Still, to be nominated is a big deal,” he said.
There was a pause as the two grinned at each other.
“Who are you?” Evangeline asked and then was embarrassed to realize that the words had been spoken out loud.
The Captain cleared his throat and dropped the woman’s hand. “I think they’re going to let me go home this weekend,” he said.
“I thought they wanted you to go to a rehab center for a couple of weeks,” Evangeline responded.
“I don’t need rehab. I survived being shot once and being hit by a drunk driver. I can manage my own rehab.” He sat up in the bed.
Evangeline shook her head. “Look, I still think—”
“You were shot?” Megan asked, sounding very impressed.
“It was nothing life-threatening,” he answered boastfully. “It’s not a terrible scar,” he added, and as if it had been scripted, he pulled down his hospital gown to show off the wound on his shoulder that Evangeline had seen a thousand times.
“He was fooling around and got popped at the shooting range,” his daughter explained. “A Boy Scout hit him.”
“Wow, that looks like it must have been really painful,” Megan noted, not paying any attention to what Evangeline had said.
“I winced a little, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at his scar as if he were reliving the event. He shook his head.
Evangeline wanted to get back to the issue at hand. “Did you tell the doctor you weren’t going to rehab?”
Jackson pulled the corner of the gown back over his shoulder and turned to his daughter. “Sure I did,” he said. “You’ve been here long enough. You can go back to Pecos.”
Evangeline stepped forward. “That’s not what I’m implying.”
There was an awkward pause.
Megan cleared her throat. “You know, I just wanted to say hello. I don’t need to stay. I can go if you want.”
“No, no!” the Captain exclaimed. “You stay!” He smiled. “I want to hear more about what they’re saying about Mr. Cheston.”
And as if on cue, the door opened and a man’s voice bellowed, “They’re saying somebody killed him and then threw him down the hill at the Silver Cross.”
All three of them quickly turned in the direction of the announcement and the man who had just entered the room.
“Not that it’s any of your business.”
FIFTEEN
“Hello, Jackson,” the uniformed man said and walked over to the bed. “I heard you kicked your last hornet’s nest.” He grinned.
The visitor was of medium height and build, solid, and was carrying his hat under his arm. Everything on him bore a bright shine—the stars on his collar, the badge on his shirt, the buckle of his belt, the tops of his shoes, the clip on his dark blue tie.
“Lester,” the patient addressed him. There wasn’t a lot of cheer in his greeting.
The man turned to Evangeline. “Afternoon, Sister,” he said with a slight bow. “I know your dad is glad you were able to be here with him. How are things in Pecos? They still making the nuns move out? And have you paid those speeding tickets?”
She managed a smile. “Hello, Chief,” she responded. “And things are just fine at the abbey. We’re still working with the diocese. And yes, I believe I am all square with the state police.” She knew everybody who read the papers was familiar with the monastery’s situation, but it seemed to her that everyone in law enforcement knew her history of moving-vehicle violations.
The chief hadn’t changed much since the Captain’s retirement party. He kept the same hairstyle, the same black mustache. Except for the addition of a few extra pounds around the middle, he looked exactly the same as he did almost fifteen years earlier.
Evangeline had known Les Painter for more than two decades. He had served on the force with her father, but she had never known the Captain to refer to him as a friend. In fact, from the very beginning when Officer Painter had transferred from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, her father had few good things to say about him. The man had risen to the rank of police chief about the time Captain Divine retired. She had always wondered about the coincidence of the shared timing of both.
The visitor then glanced over to Megan, who had shifted to stand closer to the Captain’s side. He lifted his eyebrows and held out his hand. “Well, Jackson, you never told me you had such lovely acquaintances.”
The young woman took his hand.
“I’m Chief Painter,” he announced. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”
Before she could answer, the Captain said, “You don’t need to be introduced. What can I do for you, Lester?”
The chief of the Santa Fe Police Department turned his attention away from the young woman. “I was just downstairs speaking to the press, heard you were here and thought I should stop by and check on an old friend.” He glanced down the full length of the bed, his eyes stopping for a second at the patient’s legs covered by the sheet and blanket, then back up to face Jackson. He started to say something and then seemed to think better of it. He just shook his head as if he felt sorry for the man.
“Well, that’s fine of you to drop by.” Jackson appeared uncomfortable. He shifted a bit in his bed. “I’ll be heading home pretty soon, so things are going very well.”
Chief Painter nodded.
There was an awkward pause.
“I’m real glad to hear that. Of course, everybody who knows you knows nothing can keep you down.” He sounded sincere. “Even with one leg, you’ll probably run circles around everybody else.”
Evangeline watched the Captain. She wasn’t sure how he was taking the man’s comments, and she wondered how long he could stand it before he lost his temper and said some things she knew he had to be thinking.
“So, what are the press and the chief of police doing at the hospital at the same time?” he asked, his words clipped, his tone masking what Eve knew lay just below the surface of the conversation.
The visitor was still grinning.
Jackson waited, feigning ignorance.
“Now, Jack, don’t act like you don’t know what’s happening on your old stomping grounds.” He took the hat from under his arm and held it in his hands.
Jackson shrugged. He wasn’t giving an inch.
“I’m pretty sure that I recall seeing the first missing person’s report and that your name was written somewhere on that file. Am I right about that?”
They all waited for Jackson’s reply.
He hesitated, then relented. “I believe I did talk to some of the fine men in blue about a fellow missing in Madrid. It seemed that when the report was sent to your office, there wasn’t a lot of interest shown in a county case.” He glared at the visitor. “Of course, you know that I am always happy to help out the department. I know how busy things can get for you here in the capital city.”
SIXTEEN
“I guess you’ll be pretty busy with tracking down the details of what happened.” Evangeline tried to sound interested and cheerful. She made her way closer to the bed and stepped between the two men, hoping to keep the Captain from losing his cool.
The chief forced a smile. “Well, we have declared this a homicide investigation, and that does set forth a certain protocol for our department.”
“And why exactly is the chief of police in Santa Fe suddenly in charge of a county investigation?” Jackson asked, paying no attention to his daughter’s attempt to keep him out of the conversation.
“The sheriff’s office doesn’t have the kind of financial resources to take this on alone, Jack,” Painter replied, moving a little so he could once again see the patient. “Surely you of all people
know about that. We work together on the big cases now.”
“Especially the ones with television coverage,” Jackson muttered.
Megan faced the man standing beside her. “Do you know what happened to Cha—” She stopped herself. “To Mr. Cheston?”
The police chief quickly snapped his attention to the other guest in the room. He seemed to be thinking. “You’re the one who hired Jack, isn’t that right?” He smiled, watching her. “I do believe that I heard it was a lovely young woman, unrelated to the victim, who had employed a private detective in this case.” He paused. “Megan Flint, am I right?”
“I contacted the police first.” She seemed uncomfortable with the question, her voice small and tight. “But I was told there needed to be more time for a missing person’s report to be filed.”
The chief placed his hands on his hips. “Well,” he replied with a nod, “we do have procedures in place that we follow.” He focused on the Captain. “I’m sure Jack explained all that.”
Megan glanced back down at Eve’s father. She turned again to the chief. “Of course,” she answered. “He was most helpful.” She smiled.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He winked.
Even as she stood between the two, Evangeline was worried that things would escalate beyond her ability to control.
“But as far as your question about what happened to the victim, unfortunately, we are not at liberty at this time to give any details.” His words sounded flat, rehearsed. “But we will be in very close contact with the victim’s next of kin.” He stopped. “Now, I have that right, don’t I, Ms. Flint? You’re not related to Mr. Cheston?”
Megan blushed.
“In fact, since we’re here together, perhaps you can enlighten me. What was your relationship with the deceased?”
“Chief Painter,” Evangeline interrupted. “Perhaps you could do this somewhere other than here in this hospital room.”
The chief eyed her and then focused once more on Megan.