by Lynne Hinton
“I’m happy to come to the station,” Megan volunteered. “I mean, if there are questions that I can answer.” She smiled and seemed a bit more self-assured. “I’m staying in town, so I can come any time.”
Chief Painter appeared to be thinking about Evangeline’s request and Megan’s offer. He narrowed his eyes at the young woman. “As long as we have a contact number for you, it’s fine that we finish this discussion later.”
“Perfect,” Evangeline responded, gently patting the chief on the shoulder.
“Okay, then,” Chief Painter said, reading the signs. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Jackson.”
There was no response from the Captain.
“Ladies,” Painter added with a nod and headed out the door.
Evangeline interrupted before the Captain could call out the expletive that she knew he was thinking.
“So …” she said cheerfully, “now that you’ve had the chance to meet the chief of police for the city of Santa Fe, Megan, why don’t you pull up that chair by the window and have a seat?”
SEVENTEEN
“What exactly did you tell them?” John Ewing stood in the doorway of the small, cluttered office at the stables. He had just returned from his day’s excursion and was surprised to find the police, the news vans, and at least a dozen bystanders gathered near the gate to his property at the Silver Cross. He had learned about the body as soon as he pulled into the driveway. He managed to park, but an officer met him before he was even able to get out of his truck. The interview that followed with the policeman in the house had lasted almost an hour. After that, he had to talk to the customers who had been the two other witnesses. This was the first time he’d been able to be alone with his employee.
Aaron shrugged. He was hanging up the saddles, wiping them down after their use in the day’s ride. “I told them exactly what we saw,” he answered.
“And what was that?”
“That we were up on the top, at the end of the trail. I was showing them the view before we headed back. And then the woman saw it,” he explained.
Aaron knew his boss had already heard an earful from the two customers. They, too, had been questioned by the police, and even though they had been excused, they had chosen to wait for the proprietor of the stables to return. He’d heard that Mr. Ewing had already been informed that he was paying the medical costs for the woman’s ambulance ride to the clinic just three miles from town, where she was checked out and released, as well as the dry cleaning costs for the damage done to her brand-new jeans. It turned out that would be more than the doctor’s bill. She had been walking around the ranch, making sure everyone saw what a mess she had fallen into.
“It was on the west side of the wash, where the snow was melting.” He waited. Apparently, that was not enough of an answer.
“The woman saw the body first. She screamed, her boyfriend or husband, whoever he was, fell off Lucy, spooked the mare terrible, then the woman fainted and she fell backward into the …” He hesitated. “Well, you saw how that ended.” He was trying not to grin. “Or at the very least, you smelled it.”
“And then?” Ewing asked, not amused.
Aaron took a rag and wiped off the stirrups. He also had already answered the questions asked by numerous police officers, signed a statement, and excused himself from the reporters trying to get an exclusive.
“Clover and I walked their horses back here. I drove the four-wheeler to pick them up, brought them to the stables, called the sheriff and the ambulance, because she was crying that she’d hurt her neck. When the ambulance arrived, I rode down there to see if I could tell who it was.”
“And could you?” The rancher filled up the space in the doorway. He stood firm, both arms leaning on the frame.
“He had on leather loafers, no socks, a light jacket. I don’t think he had been hiking.” He shook his head. “I brushed the snow away from his face.” He turned to his employer. “I don’t think the police were real happy about that, but I told them I was just making sure I couldn’t save him. How was I to know for sure that he was dead?” He waited.
Ewing was waiting as well.
“It was him.”
John Ewing blew out a breath and turned, keeping his back to the cowboy. “They find out what killed him?” Ewing’s voice sounded far away.
“I couldn’t see nothing once they pulled him out of the snow,” Aaron replied. “They put up a big tarp around the body while they dug him out. Jerilyn was on the ambulance that came to get that woman, and you know how big her mouth is. By the time the state police were here, it looked like the Placer gold rush. They must have closed down all of Cerrillos and Madrid. Anyway, I couldn’t see anything after that. And they weren’t talking.” The young man paused. He was surprised by all the questions. “You worried this will hurt the business?”
Ewing spun around. “I couldn’t care less about the business,” he blurted out.
The two men didn’t speak. They listened as the helicopter came closer and could hear the vehicles still driving past the stables, the drivers and passengers hoping for a better view and the voices of folks walking by the property.
Aaron finally broke the silence. “Does Mr. Biltmore know?”
The rancher didn’t answer at first.
Aaron waited and then turned back and continued cleaning the saddles. He could see that his boss was upset, and after hearing no response for so long, figured their conversation was finished. He knew when to quit prying.
“Mr. Biltmore left the country a week ago.”
Aaron faced Ewing.
“He was upset about something but wouldn’t tell me what.” The older man pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his forehead. It was not warm outside, but John Ewing had certainly been sweating.
“You tell the police anything else?” Ewing wanted to know.
Aaron dug his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I don’t know anything else to tell,” he said, lifting his eyes to get a look at the other man.
The rancher watched him for a second, turned away, and nodded. “No, I guess you don’t,” was all he said.
EIGHTEEN
“This was never anything you and I discussed.” Captain Divine was sitting in his wheelchair in the family conference room on the third floor. His discharge was scheduled for later that day, and he and several hospital personnel, along with Evangeline, were gathered to discuss his continued care at home.
Evangeline had spent the night in Madrid, getting settled back into her old room, buying necessary groceries, and trying to make the arrangements needed for the patient to return home. She had gone out to dinner with Megan, learned more about the young movie star and how she had been taking care of her mother after she suffered a stroke. Megan enjoyed being an actress, but it wasn’t just about the fame. She needed the money to pay for her mother’s care. Evangeline had even learned more about the young woman’s relationship with the Hollywood director. She had planned to share what she’d learned with the Captain. She was told about the team meeting concerning his discharge when she arrived at the hospital.
“Mr. Divine,” the social worker started.
“It’s pronounced Diveen,” the Captain interrupted.
“Mr. Divine,” she started again, pronouncing the name correctly and trying to ease the tension between the patient and his daughter. It was clear to everyone gathered that he was hearing for the first time that Evangeline was planning to go back to Madrid and care for him. “Since you have declined rehabilitation services at a local facility, we are willing to extend our home care to you.” She tapped her pen on the papers in front of her. “But we are not able to be with you twenty-four hours a day.” She leaned back in her seat. “And it is the consensus of everyone around this table, along with your doctors, that you cannot stay by yourself.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “And how does everyone around this table, along with my doctors,” he sneered, “know exactly what I c
an and cannot do?”
“Are you able to transfer from your chair to the toilet?” the charge nurse asked. She waited.
There was no response.
“Can you get into and out of the shower without assistance?” She clasped her hands. “Is your house even wheelchair accessible?” She took a breath.
He did not answer.
“Captain Divine,” the nurse said with respect, “this is a major life transition for you. You have shown great commitment to your recovery while you’ve been in the hospital, and you’ve done excellent work with the physical and occupational therapists. Your residual limb is in great shape, the wound is healed, and the swelling continues to decrease. You should be able to be fitted for the prosthetic in a few more weeks.” She paused. “But you are not ready to manage all of this at home by yourself.”
Captain Divine still didn’t speak.
The social worker looked over the discharge orders from the doctor. “We will send a physical therapist to Madrid three times a week. The nurse will come once, and we can order a nurse tech to come every other morning of the week to assist you with your shower and dress. Your insurance will cover all of those services for about two months. After that we can reassess and continue home care if needed.” She glanced up at the patient.
He was staring at Eve. “When did you make these arrangements?”
She had been listening to the social worker and didn’t realize at first that he was speaking to her. “I’m hearing about this for the first time just like you,” she replied.
“You know what I mean,” he said. “When did you have this conversation with your superiors at Pecos and decide that you were going home with me?”
She glanced away, unsure of how to answer. She had, after all, known this was going to happen the day after the surgery. Brother Oliver had told her to take all the time she needed, but she had asked for only a couple of months. She wanted to get back to the convent before the building project began. She still had hope that she could change the minds of those wishing to separate the monks from the nuns and move the women to another area of the campus. She wanted another meeting with her superiors.
“Eve,” he called out, “when did you make this decision?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to do this in front of the others at the table. She had planned this conversation with her father as one without witnesses but had not taken the time to have it before the nurse asked for a family conference. She knew it was now or never. She took a breath and plunged in.
NINETEEN
“I asked for the leave of absence a day after your surgery,” she began. “I had a meeting with the vice superior, and he agreed it was the right thing to do.”
“You and Dorisanne …” He lifted his chin when he said his other daughter’s name. “The two of you also make this same agreement?”
Evangeline shifted in her chair. The other women around the table fidgeted, seeming to feel her discomfort.
“And everybody else here, they knew too? You told these strangers before you told me?” he asked.
“You’re accusing me of talking to strangers before family about your health?” She stopped, realizing it would do no good to get into an argument about how she found out about the surgery in the first place. She took in a breath and began again.
“Dorisanne and I decided that I would take the leave of absence and help you get adjusted at home. I think a couple of months will do it. I didn’t need to ask your permission to leave the order to provide your care. And yes, I discussed with the nurses here the other options when you stubbornly refused to go to the rehab center.” She could feel the anger rising in her throat, her jaw tightening. She decided she had said enough.
There was a long, awkward pause and then someone’s pager went off. The social worker reached down to her belt and silenced the noise. The vibrations echoed softly in the quiet room.
The Captain slumped a bit, resting his elbows on the arms of the wheelchair. He seemed to calm down. “So, this is how it all begins?” he asked.
No one responded.
“First the children have a conversation and make decisions for you, then your daughter decides to leave her home, her vocation of twenty years, and move back in, and then strangers barely old enough to vote tell you whether or not you’re strong enough to get out of a chair by yourself.” He stopped and glanced over at Eve, who had closed her eyes.
He waited. “You lose your leg, and then you lose your right to make decisions for yourself.”
“Mr. Divine, I don’t think that’s what is happening here,” the nurse explained.
“Oh, you don’t?” he asked, spinning around to face her.
The charge nurse glanced around the table. “Adult children want to show the love they feel for their parents. They do that by making sure their parents are cared for when they are sick, when they need medical attention. Sometimes children are able to manage that care themselves, and sometimes they make arrangements for professionals to provide the care. Conversations have to take place about those decisions regarding care, and sometimes those conversations don’t include the parent. The children make the best decisions they can to care for their parents because they love their parents. And that is what love does.”
No one seemed to know what to say after such an impassioned speech. The social worker tapped her pen nervously. The physical therapist reached for her cup of coffee and took a sip. Evangeline watched her father, waiting for him to lash out.
A few minutes passed, and the vibrating noise from the social worker’s pager sounded again. She silenced it.
There was a long and awkward pause before the Captain spoke.
“You’ll stay two months and then you’ll go back.” It was more of a command than a request.
“Yes,” Eve responded. “I only have leave for two months.”
“Then two months it is,” he said.
TWENTY
“Anybody home?” The screen door slammed as Daniel walked into the house.
“We’re back here,” was the reply.
Evangeline entered the front room. “Well, what a wonderful surprise,” she said. She hugged him, then felt the shove against her legs and glanced down. “Trooper!” she sang out and knelt down to welcome her father’s dog back home.
The big yellow Labrador circled around a number of times, her tail almost knocking Evangeline down.
“I know somebody who’ll be happy to see you.” She stood up. “Go find the Captain,” she said.
Trooper bounded for the back bedroom. A shout of excitement followed.
Evangeline smiled. “Well, I guess there’s at least one girl he’s happy to have back here.” She stepped away from the door. “Here, let me take your coat.” She held out her hands while Daniel removed his outerwear. “Have a seat,” she said and went to hang up Daniel’s jacket.
“What time did you get home?” Daniel asked, taking his place on the sofa.
“It was about eight last night,” she answered, sitting down across from him. “It took forever for the doctor to come around and sign the papers.” She pulled her legs up, tucking her feet under her. “We waited six hours.” She motioned to the back of the house with her thumb. “He was fit to be tied.”
Daniel laughed. “I guess that’s one nursing unit that’s glad the insurance company can limit a patient’s stay in the hospital.”
“I suspect you’re right.” She tugged at her socks. “And here I thought they were being so attentive to his medical needs. The truth is they were just trying to get him well enough to discharge him.”
“I can hear you.” The Captain rolled into the room in his wheelchair. Trooper rested in his lap.
“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work with a service animal,” Daniel noted as Jackson stopped beside the sofa. The dog sat up, obscuring the Captain’s view.
He made a clicking noise and Trooper climbed down gently, as if she had been given exact instructions on how to exit witho
ut causing harm. She went into the kitchen to get some water.
“Yeah, well, we’ll work on it,” he replied.
“So how was it to sleep in your own bed last night?” Daniel asked.
“It was good,” he lied. The truth was that neither he nor Evangeline had slept well.
“Nothing like your own bed, right?” his friend noted.
“That’s for sure.” He glanced over at Eve, and she got the message not to add anything more.
“Tell me, what’s the latest on our Hollywood victim?” Jackson said.
Daniel smiled. “I wondered how long it would take you to get back to business.”
He stretched out and crossed his legs at his ankles. “Well, it doesn’t appear that the cause of death was a fall from the hiking trail.”
“Yeah, we knew that. It would have taken a running dive to get that far. Besides, the chief gave me that much information.”
Daniel nodded. “His toxicology report was probably the most interesting.”
Evangeline had leaned in. “Was it crank?” she asked.
Daniel glanced over at Eve. “How do you know about meth?”
“I know some things,” she replied.
The Captain rolled his eyes. “She’s gotten tight with Megan,” he noted. “The poor girl thought she was making a confession when really Eve was pumping her for information.”
“You and Megan are close?” Daniel asked.
“I wouldn’t call us close,” Eve answered. “And she did not think she was making a confession. Chaz has a history of addiction. Megan said he had stopped doing crack and hashish but recently had gotten hooked on crystal meth, ice, crank. He liked the quick energy boost, claimed it helped him write the scripts better.”
“Chaz?” Daniel asked, sounding surprised to hear the nun calling the dead man by his nickname.
“Can you believe her?” Jackson pointed his thumb over at his daughter. “A week and a half out of the convent and she’s talking like somebody from the vice squad.”