Killer Reads: A Collection of the Best in Inspirational Suspense

by Luana Ehrlich

  “I’m sorry you’re not available, Harry, but I understand.”

  Sara replaced the phone on its base. Did Harry think her guilty?

  Her mind flashed back to Josh’s funeral. Harry had seemed distant and quiet. She assumed his silence was grief. Never for a moment did it occur to her that he’d considered her somehow responsible. Did he know of Josh’s extra-marital affairs? Assume she had killed him in a jealous rage?

  Her chest felt vacant, as if someone had slammed the breath from her body. “Looks like you’re wrong, Maddie. Some people do think I could have murdered Josh. Harold Golden, for starters.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Sara Bradford’s Home

  After her conversation with Harold Golden, Sara took a mug of hot tea into the library. The aromatic steam had already begun to relax her frayed nerves. She needed that. It would make it easier to fall asleep later.

  She settled into a chair in front of the fireplace as bright embers floated out of sight up the chimney, resting her head on the soft leather back. She sipped the tea, trying to unwind. Heaven knew her muscles had good cause for tension. Her body had more than its share of trauma the past few days. The phone rang and she placed the cup on the end table, then reached to answer it.

  “Sara Bradford?” the voice on the phone inquired.

  “Yes, this is Sara.”

  “Sara, this is Gaye, I’m the ER nurse who took care of you earlier this week. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course, Gaye. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. The reason I called is we have a patient, Dolly Campbell, in emergency. She’s asking for you. She was involved in an accident, and insisted we contact you before she’ll let us take her into surgery. She needs treatment immediately and we can’t locate her relatives. Would it be possible for you to come right away?”

  “I’m leaving now.” Sara grabbed her car keys and rushed out the door. Gaye hadn’t mentioned the children. Perhaps they were at home with their mother. Please, let them be safe.

  Twin Falls Memorial Hospital

  The nurse met Sara at the entrance to the emergency ward and led her into a curtain-covered cubicle where Dolly Campbell lay on a gurney, her face pasty white, wrinkled with pain.

  Sara moved to Dolly’s side and took her hand. “Dolly, it’s Sara.”

  The frail woman’s eyes fluttered open. She tried to lift her head but the effort seemed too much. Dolly clutched Sara’s hand. “Thank God you came. We were on our way to our lake cabin...a car crossed the median...hit us head on.” She took a shaky breath. “I think Walter and Diane are dead.” Her voice caught. “I couldn’t tell for sure...the nurses won’t tell me if Poppy and Danny were hurt or how badly.”

  Sara’s heart plummeted. The children were in the car. She moved closer. Dolly still gripped Sara’s hand. “Don’t talk now, Dolly. Let the doctors take care of you. Afterwards, you can tell me whatever you want.”

  “No.” Dolly’s voice grew insistent. “I must say this. If anything happens to me...promise you will take care of the children. If Walter and Diane are gone, there’s no one to care for them. Please.”

  Sara squeezed her hand. “Of course I will. You have my word. Now please let them attend to your wounds.”

  Dolly nodded as two nurses wheeled her out with an urgency that frightened Sara.

  In ER, Sara stepped down the hall to the waiting room. Ahead, she spotted Gaye and stopped her. “There were two children and two other adults in the accident with Mrs. Campbell. Can you tell me how they’re doing?”

  Gaye’s face scrunched into a pained expression. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sara. I can only give that information to the nearest relative. It’s HIPPA rules.”

  Sara gulped a shaky breath. “I understand, but I don’t think there is a nearest relative. Dolly said the whole family was in the accident.”

  Gaye touched her arm. “Believe me, I would help if I could.”

  Tears stung the back of Sara’s eyelids. She pulled her new cell phone from her bag and punched in the number on the business card Matt gave her.

  A few seconds later, a tired voice came on the line. “What is it now, Sara?”

  His voice sounded weary with a touch of irritation. She swallowed her pride. “I need your help. I’m at the hospital―”

  The volume of Matt’s voice increased. “I told you to let us know when you left home. Why didn’t you listen?”

  Her voice caught, despite efforts to remain calm. “It isn’t me. It’s the children, Poppy and Danny.”

  “Who?”

  “The children from the trailer park you found for me.”

  A long pause followed. “Tell me what happened.”

  When she finished, he said, “Hold tight. I’ll be there in a few minutes. The hospital will talk to me.”

  ****

  Before he left home, Matt called the highway patrol and got a run down on the accident. It wasn’t pretty. Afterwards, he made the twenty minute drive to the hospital. He stepped into the ER and Gaye met him at the nurses’ station.

  “Hey, big guy. What brings you in?”

  He pulled her aside. “I heard about the expressway accident. How bad are the victims?”

  Gaye shook her head. “Two of the family members, the grandfather and children’s mother, were DOA when we got them. The grandmother is in surgery with massive internal injuries. Both kids are alive, thanks to their seatbelts, but they have broken bones. The driver in the other car survived with a broken leg and a concussion. Texting and driving. He’s in recovery now. Are the family friends of yours?”

  Matt shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”

  He gave Gaye a half wave and went in search of Sara. He found her in the surgery waiting room, her gaze fixed on some point in the darkness beyond the window. She brought to mind a big-eyed doll he’d seen in store windows. Fragile and vulnerable.

  Why did this woman keep intruding into his life? Had his guardian angel turned sadist? He kicked himself mentally. That wasn’t fair. Sara had her own major problems. He cleared his throat.

  She rose and hurried to him. “Have you found out anything? Are the children alive? Are they okay?”

  “The kids are fine. A couple of broken bones.” He paused. “The grandfather and mother died in the accident. The kids are sedated, they don’t know.”

  Sara wrapped her arms around her body and turned away, as if to shield herself from the news. “Oh no...poor... “

  Matt touched her arm and led her back to the sofa, then sat beside her. “The doctor will let us know as soon as Mrs. Campbell is out of surgery.”

  He sat with Sara until one o’clock, when a young doctor came. He introduced himself as Dr. Dietz. “Are you both family members?”

  Matt stepped forward to meet him. “No, I’m Police Chief Foley.” He nodded towards Sara. “This is Sara Bradford, a friend. The children’s only other relative is their father. He’s in prison.”

  “I see,” Dr. Dietz said. He turned to Sara. “You’re the one Mrs. Campbell asked for before the surgery?”

  Sara moved close to Matt. “Yes. How is she?”

  “She suffered extensive internal injuries, which were made more difficult by her age. The prognosis is not good. She’s in recovery now. She’ll go from there to ICU. You can visit her for fifteen minutes, every two hours.”

  “How are the children?” Sara asked.

  “Danny has a broken arm. Poppy has a broken foot and some bad bruises. They’ll be fine. You can look in on them, but they need rest. Tomorrow will bring them some very bad news.”

  ****

  While she waited for ICU visiting hours, Sara looked in on the kids. They were sleeping, probably sedated for the pain.

  It was early morning before Sara and Matt got in to see Dolly. She was conscious, and glanced up at Matt, questions in her eyes.

  Sara tilted her head in his direction. “This is Police Chief, Matt Foley. A friend.”

  Dolly tried to lift her he
ad. “Walter...Diane?”

  Sara clasped the injured woman’s hand. “I’m sorry...”

  The old woman closed her eyes. “It’s okay. I knew. Chief, you are my witness. If I don’t...make it, I want Sara to take Danny and Poppy. There’s no other family. Will you tell whoever needs to know that this is my verbal will? I can’t bear to think they might go into foster care.” She took a shaky breath. “Or to their father.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matt said, his voice husky. “I’ll take care of it.” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and wrote out a rough will, then called one of the nurses into the room and asked her to witness Dolly’s verbal instructions and her signature on the page.

  Sara listened to Dolly’s life story in fifteen-minute installments throughout the early morning as life support monitors beeped incessantly in the background. Nurses wandered in and out of the room. Worry lines creased their brows as they read the instruments. Dolly reminisced about her life with Walter. They’d met in an orphanage and married when they finished high school. Dolly inhaled deeply between each sentence, her voice becoming softer as the hours passed.

  Sara leaned close to catch each word.

  Finally, the older woman drew in a shuddering breath. “Sara...remember your promise.”

  At seven thirty Sunday morning, the grip on Sara’s hand loosened, the green band on the heart monitor flat lined, and bells went off. Sara backed from the room as it filled with emergency response attendants to no avail.

  Dolly Campbell had slipped away.

  Moisture trickled from under Sara’s lashes onto her cheeks. She stumbled into the corridor and braced against the wall.

  Just down the hall, Matt waited between two IV poles and a portable blood pressure monitor, his arms folded, waiting.

  “I didn’t mean to keep you up all night, Matt.”

  He cleared his throat, then reached and took her arm. “Not a problem. Come. I’ll follow you home.”

  Matt Foley’s Home

  Monday morning, Matt started his three-mile run with a warm up on the back deck before breakfast. With Rowdy at his heels, he started a slow run then built up speed until his blood pumped madly and adrenalin flooded through his body, giving him a runner’s high.

  After a shower and shave, he dressed for work then went downstairs and warmed a bagel, added cream cheese and poured a cup of coffee.

  Taking the food to the deck, he stood and ate, gazing across the lawn into the woods as a graceful hawk soared above the treetops. The deer were gone. Too late in the morning for them. They were early risers.

  He found Stella in the laundry room. “Don’t make dinner tonight. I’ll eat in town.”

  She turned towards him with a smile. “Fine, Chief.”

  “See you later.”

  He returned to his bedroom. He’d dropped his holster and weapon in a chair here when he came home. He headed out the door and paused as a thought hit him. “Rowdy, come here boy. Want to go for a ride?”

  The dog skidded around the corner, his nub of a tail wiggling. Matt got the leash from the closet and hooked him up.

  “Stella, I’m taking Rowdy with me today.”

  She acknowledged his statement with what sounded like “fine”.

  He settled Rowdy in the backseat and drove to the station.

  Bringing the pup along had been an inspired idea. The hospital told him they’d release the kids today, around three o’clock. He wanted to be there when Sara told them about their family. She would need backup for that dirty job. In his own special way, Rowdy could help.

  Twin Falls Police Station

  The misty autumn air hung low and mild, as Matt pulled into the station. He went in search of Hunter and Davis and found the two detectives in the break room. “Sorry I missed the nine o’clock meeting. Couldn’t be helped.”

  Rowdy jumped into Hunter’s lap. They were old friends. The dog intuitively knew Davis wasn’t a dog-man. Hunter accepted Rowdy’s wet kisses. “What are you doing here, buddy?”

  Matt took a seat by Davis. “I have a death notification. Two kids lost their family last night. He’s my backup. What’s new on the Pryor case?”

  Hunter stirred his coffee, and petted Rowdy with the other hand. “The victim is officially the Pryor girl. Lisa received the dental records late yesterday.” He took a printout report of yesterday’s activity from his inside pocket and handed it to Matt. “My wife said to thank you for installing the laptop computer in the car. I got the paperwork done without having to come back to the office.”

  “Tell her she’s welcome. That was the purpose for the installations. Let you people spend more time on police work—less time with written reports. How’s the legwork going?”

  Davis blew across his cup. “We’ve finished all the interviews.” He ticked off items on his fingers. “What we know so far, Charles Edwards is a Vietnam vet. Don Tompkins retired from the bomb squad in the Dallas Police Department. Elliot was away with his parents that weekend. Jacob Jamison’s widow said they were also out of town that Memorial Day. Seems Jamison amassed quite a fortune after he moved to Arkansas.”

  Hunter added, “And when Jamison died, he left the money to his widow. He and Maddie Jamison separated, but never divorced. Lucky break with her handicap.”

  “What’s your next step?” Matt asked.

  “We’re still working the panel truck angle.” Davis glanced at his partner. “And we also need to go through all the junk Mac collected at the Cook place. But that’s on the back burner for now. Spoke to Tompkins and Edwards yesterday. Both admitted they used a panel truck at the time the girl disappeared. Since they lived in the neighborhood and had access to a white truck, we moved them up in rank on the list of suspects.”

  “And,” Matt said. “Tompkins’ bomb squad experience makes him suspect in the violence at Global.”

  Davis’ easy grin disappeared. “There’s also the possibility Sam Pryor may have abused Penny. Two people confirmed he slapped his wife, which could have extended to the child. I don’t want to believe it, but we need to put the question to Sam and Lily.”

  “Do what you have to do, but I suggest you go to their home. Since Lily Pryor is Governor Ferrell’s sister, we don’t want him on our backs for police harassment. Be sensitive to the family’s ordeal. This has been one long nightmare for those two people.”

  Davis tugged on his tie. “Unless Sam’s responsible for his daughter’s death.”

  Matt nodded. “Point taken. I’ll try to reach Governor Ferrell. Let him know that angle is part of the investigation, and hope he understands.”

  Sara Bradford’s Home

  A thin wisp of clouds floated overhead in the buttermilk sky as Matt pulled into Sara’s driveway.

  Beatrice opened the front door, a red tinge to her cheeks. Apparently, she remembered their last encounter when she threatened to undress him. Without a word, she led him to the library where Maddie Jamison sat before a black-faced computer monitor.

  Maddie turned when he cleared his throat to announce his presence. “Hi, Matthew, how may I help you?”

  “I didn’t know you used a computer,” he said.

  “Most computers have a handicap feature that makes it easier for people with vision problems. The black screen with white letters is easier to read. I use it to make out the weekly menus for Beatrice. Are you looking for Sara?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Matt said. “Is she at home?”

  Maddie nodded her head towards the hallway. “You’ll find her in the kitchen. She’s washing dishes.”

  Matt started towards the door, then turned back. “Did you say washing dishes?”

  “Yes, Matthew. It’s one of the dark sides of her personality. I’ll let her explain it to you.”

  He walked down the passageway into the kitchen. Sara stood at the large country sink, up to her elbows in soapy dishwater. She looked over her shoulder when he entered the room. “Hi, Matt.” She gave him a bright smile. Reaching into a drawer, she withdrew a dish
towel and threw it at him. “Come on in. You can dry.”

  He caught the towel. “What is all this? I know you have a dishwasher.”

  Sara dunked a plate into the water. “It’s soap-suds therapy. Whenever I have a difficult decision to make, I wash dishes. It clears my head. A little trick I learned from my mother. I’m sure she just wanted me to do the dishes, but somehow, it works for me.”

  “I will be happy to assist you. It is a little known police fact that no husband has ever been shot while helping his wife with the dishes. I say that with all the limitless resources of my profession.”

  Sara gave him an impish grin. “Is that a proposal?”

  He placed the towel over his shoulder, took her by the arms and turned her to face him, ignoring the water that dripped from the rubber gloves she wore. “Do you want it to be?”

  He hadn’t a clue where that question had come from.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She leaned in to him and placed her brow on his chest. “Oh, Matt, I’m such a mess. I don’t know what I want right now. You heard Dolly ask me to take care of her grandchildren. I have to pick them up in an hour. I can’t let them go into foster care, but I’m scared to death to bring them into my life. You, of all people, know how dangerous that could be with all that’s happened lately. Not to mention the issues of adding active children to the mix of people here in their fifties.”

  He nodded. “Ah, I see your dilemma. The funeral is scheduled for Wednesday?”

  She sniffed and tried to wipe her eyes with the wet gloves and deposited a glob of suds on her nose. “I made the arrangements as soon as I could. Delaying it will only prolong the inevitable. No one has told the children about their family. I must do that today.” Her voice caught, her lower lip trembled. “Matt, those little guys have nobody, besides me. I care for them so much. It breaks my heart to think what they might have to endure if I don’t take them...”