Random Acts

by Alison Stone

  Danielle’s mouth grew dry. If only she knew the right words to get Jenny to open up. “You don’t remember anything from the night of your accident?”

  “The doctor told me memory issues are common with head injuries.” Jenny inspected her fingers then bit at the corner of her thumbnail.

  Danielle sensed her sister was lying. Was she protecting someone? Was she afraid?

  Racking her brain for a way to draw her sister out, Danielle strolled toward the window and pulled back the curtains. Jenny squinted against the bright sunshine and groaned.

  “Oh, want me to close it?” Danielle asked.

  Wincing, Jenny shook her head. “No. Maybe if the doctor thinks I’m better, she’ll let me go home. Do me a favor and make sure the window is locked.”

  Danielle did as Jenny had asked. She returned to her sister’s side and squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours.” Her light and breezy tone belied the emotions warring inside her. “I promised I’d get Patrick. He’s down the hall. He wants to ask you a few questions.”

  Jenny tucked her hair behind each ear with trembling fingers. “Chief Parker came yesterday. I told him I don’t know what happened.”

  “Humor me,” Danielle said, slightly surprised to learn Chief Parker had already interrogated her.

  Danielle texted Patrick and a few minutes later he appeared in the doorway. “Danielle, if you don’t mind I’d like to talk to your sister in private.”

  Heat warmed her cheeks. “Of course.”

  With hands on either side of her, Jenny pushed her backside farther up on the bed and straightened her back. “Don’t bother leaving. I don’t have anything to say. I already told everyone I don’t remember.” Her teeth chattered and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I. Don’t. Remember.” Her voice reached a high-pitched screech.

  “It’s okay.” Danielle rubbed her little sister’s forearm. “It’s okay.” She glanced over at Patrick, seeking guidance. His expression possessed a mix of compassion and confusion. Was he also trying to see beyond the bruised face and mask of denials?

  Jenny lowered her head, lacing her fingers through her bangs. “It will never be okay.”

  “You must be getting sick of driving me back and forth,” Danielle said as Patrick slipped behind the wheel of his police cruiser.

  “I don’t mind.” He turned the ignition key, leaned back and smiled. “Where to now, madam?”

  “Well,” she said a little sheepishly, “I was hoping to get a swim in at the Y. Do you think you can swing by my Gram’s so I can grab my swimsuit first…unless it’s too much of an imposition? Then I can walk home from the Y.” She hoped to exercise away some of the stress.

  “No problem. I can chauffeur you around town and do my patrol at the same time.” His soft laugh warmed her heart. In a short time, she had gotten accustomed to his companionship. Almost like old times. Rubbing her forehead, she pushed the thought away. Nothing could turn back the hands of time.

  “Thanks.” Looking for a distraction, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and noticed the missed-calls indicator. She’d never get out from under the pile of work accumulating back home. “I think a few laps will help me work out the kinks.”

  “Still swimming?” Patrick waggled his eyebrows. “I remember that cute red one-piece bathing suit you had to wear as part of the high school swim team.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

  “You’d stand next to the starting block fidgeting with the straps. But as soon as you stepped up on the starting block, it was like another person took over. Cool as a cucumber.”

  “I had no idea you paid that much attention.”

  Patrick chuckled. “There are lots of things you never knew.”

  “In Atlanta, my building has a gym on the bottom floor,” Danielle said, quickly changing the course of the conversation. “I try to hit the pool a few times a week, first thing in the morning.”

  “Impressive.”

  “When my head is underwater, I forget all my problems.” Danielle braced her hand against the door as the vehicle rocked back and forth up the rutted driveway of Gram’s house.

  “Do you mind if I come in and say hello to Gram?” Patrick asked as she climbed out of the car.

  “Gram would love to see you.” She walked ahead, keys in hand. She slowed at the door and glanced over her shoulder. “The door is open. I know I closed it.”

  The intense expression on Patrick’s face sent a jolt of cold panic coursing through her veins. “Let me go in first.” He strode into the home with Danielle following close behind. The sound from a television game show blared from the family room. Gram sat in her chair dozing.

  Patrick lifted the remote to turn off the TV. Danielle grabbed the remote out of his hand. “Don’t,” she whispered, “she’ll wake up. Trust me. The sudden quiet might startle her.”

  “What about the door?”

  “Maybe Gram opened it to greet someone and didn’t close it all the way. She’s had a lot of church friends drop off casseroles since Jenny’s accident.” Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She pressed a finger to her lips. “Wait here, I’ll go grab my things and we can go.”

  At the top of the stairs, a rustling sounded from Jenny’s room. Danielle’s pulse roared in her ears. Renewed panic spread through her body and settled in her stomach. She glanced down the stairs, working her lip. Should she get Patrick? She pushed back her shoulders. Maybe the wind was dragging branches against the side of the house.

  Heart beating in her ears, she took a step toward Jenny’s open bedroom door. She froze. A man, his back to her, bent over the nightstand, grumbled to himself. He spun around, lifting the solid metal weapon in his hand. She took a step back and turned, twisting her ankle. She grabbed the top of the railing to break her backward fall.

  Henry ran toward her with an outstretched hand. Danielle opened her mouth and screamed.

  Patrick took the stairs two at a time to find Danielle with her eyes squeezed shut, an open palm lifted to protect her head. Henry stood against the wall, distress etched on his face. Patrick assessed the situation, his gaze landing on the pipe wrench in Henry’s hand.

  “Drop it,” Patrick growled, his hand instinctively hovering over the gun in its holster.

  The pipe wrench landed with a loud clatter on the hardwood floor. “I didn’t do anything…” Henry’s voice shook.

  Patrick grabbed Danielle’s forearm and brought her to her feet. “What happened here?” He put a protective arm around her. She leaned into his embrace, her trembling body warm next to his.

  Her pulse leapt in her neck. “I found him—” she pointed to Henry who had flattened himself against the opposite wall, “—in Jenny’s room.”

  Henry lifted his palms to the ceiling. “Mrs. Carson hired me to fix the bathroom sink.”

  Patrick’s eyes dropped to the pipe wrench on the floor. “Why were you in the bedroom?”

  All the blood drained from Henry’s face. “I was just…” glancing over his shoulder into Jenny’s room, he seemed to be searching for the right words, “…I wanted to look at the photo of Jenny. I miss her.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Danielle said, stepping away from Patrick. “Why were you really in there?”

  Henry shrugged. “I told you. I had to do some repairs. A friend dropped me off.”

  “What’s going on?” Gram’s shaky voice floated up from the bottom of the stairs. “Everything okay?” She sounded out of breath, alarmed.

  “Did you know Henry was up here?” Patrick called down.

  Gram leaned on the post at the bottom of the stairs. “Of course I did. He was fixing that pesky drip in the bathroom.”

  Patrick angled his head to look into Danielle’s eyes. “Okay?”

  She shook her head. “No, not okay.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of her sister’s room. “It doesn’t explain why he was in Jenny’s room.” Patrick realized she would be a formidable oppone
nt in a legal case.

  “I told you,” Henry pleaded, lowering his eyes to his tool, then quickly lifting his head again. “Jenny and I are good friends. I just wanted to see her smiling face in that photo.”

  Patrick nodded toward the bathroom. “Are you done with the job?”

  Henry’s face brightened. “Just have to get my tools.”

  “Go get them and Mrs. Carson will settle up with you later.”

  Henry moved toward the bathroom, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  Patrick rubbed his hands up and down Danielle’s arms. “I think it’s time I told you something.”

  Danielle and Patrick followed Henry onto the front porch. As soon as Henry’s friend arrived to pick him up, she turned to Patrick with accusing eyes. “I think you’re letting him off too easy. He’s up to something.” Her nerves were still humming from the earlier fright. “He looked too guilty when I found him in Jenny’s room.”

  A shiver raced down her spine. “I hate the cold,” she muttered, yanking up the zipper on her fleece. Squaring off to face him, she narrowed her gaze and set her jaw, her mood foul. “What do you have to tell me that warrants letting that creep slither off?”

  “I don’t believe Henry has anything to do with Jenny’s injuries.”

  “How can you be sure?” Her pulse beat wildly in her ears.

  “The night she got hurt, the Mayport Police Department had used Jenny as a drug informant.” Patrick’s steady gaze met hers.

  Danielle’s vision became almost tunnel-like. His words sounded hollow, strange. She grabbed the railing and swayed.

  Patrick’s eyes grew dark with concern. “Let’s get you inside.” He cupped her elbow.

  She jerked her arm away and shook her head, disbelief clouding her thoughts. “What are you talking about? Drugs? Does my grandmother know?”

  “No, only the police department.”

  “Apparently not.” Anger bubbled up, threatening to explode in a tirade of hurtful words. “Someone found out and hurt her. Somebody else knows.” The conclusion was obvious. That’s why Patrick was so quick to let Henry go.

  He scrubbed a hand across his pained features. He used Jenny and now he was sorry? She bit back the angry, bitter words sitting on her tongue.

  “Please come inside. Your teeth are chattering.”

  Danielle narrowed her gaze. “No. Tell me right here, right now. I don’t want Gram to hear any of this. It would destroy her.”

  He ran a hand across the back of his neck and seemed to be struggling with where to start. “Chief Parker pulled Jenny over four weeks ago for talking on her cell phone.”

  Danielle shrugged. “Okay. What? You get a ticket for that?” Anger muddled her thoughts.

  “Normally. But when she stepped out of the vehicle, she dropped her purse.” Danielle felt Patrick’s eyes on her as he spoke. “A bottle of pills fell out.”

  She shook her head while a sinking feeling washed over her. “What kind of pills?”

  The corners of Patrick’s mouth turned down. “Prescription drugs. A controlled substance. Illegally obtained.”

  Briefly closing her eyes, she drew in a fortifying breath. Drugs? What was her sister thinking? She lifted her hand slowly and covered her mouth. “No, I don’t believe you.” Jenny would have never abused drugs, not after living with an alcoholic mother. Never. White dots blurred her vision. She felt the color drain from her face.

  “Chief Parker and the district attorney offered Jenny a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” Her knees threatened to buckle underneath the weight of his revelations.

  “Serve as a drug informant or risk jail time.”

  “Drug informant? Jail time?” None of this made sense.

  “She had a substantial amount. Prescription drugs are a huge problem, even in our small town. The police department is anxious to get their arms around this problem. Chief Parker saw this as a huge opportunity to get to the dealers. And your sister agreed.”

  Danielle drove her balled fists into Patrick’s solid chest. “You let this happen.”

  Patrick wrapped his fingers around her wrists to keep her hands still. “It was ultimately her decision. She came to me. Asked me what she should do. Told me she couldn’t go to jail. Gram needed her. She felt like she was finally getting her life back on track.”

  Danielle yanked her hands free and gave his chest a final push before spinning back around. Her vision blurred. “Why didn’t she call me? I’m a lawyer. I could have helped her. Advised her of her legal rights. The police department can’t do this.”

  “It’s been done before.” His stoic expression fueled her fury.

  “I would have made Jenny fight the charges.” The man was nothing he pretended to be. “You took advantage of her situation.” Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to break down in front of him.

  “Chief Parker’s my boss.”

  “You couldn’t talk him out of it? She’s just a kid.” Her voice wobbled.

  “There’s a chain of command that must be followed.” He paused a second as if he already felt guilty enough. But his conscience should have stopped this before it’d even begun. “Jenny’s not a kid. While you were off building a career, your little sister grew up.”

  Danielle lifted her hands, then dropped them to her sides in fists. “I can’t believe this. The Mayport Police Department used my sister as a drug informant.” Her voice dropped to a threatening whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you make me believe that her injuries were the result of some random act?”

  “The less people who know about Jenny’s involvement, the better. We couldn’t risk word getting out.” He paused. “We still can’t.”

  “But it’s already too late. Someone found out and attacked her. Tried to kill her.” A chill skittered down her spine. “What if they come back?” Her hand flew to her mouth as gooseflesh peppered her skin. “They already have, haven’t they? They broke into the house.”

  Patrick nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’m afraid they have.”

  Danielle clenched her hand until her nails bit into her palm. “Jenny’s not safe.”

  He touched her forearm, an unexpected anchor in the brewing storm. “The nurses have a list of acceptable visitors. And we have the dealer, Billy Farr, under surveillance. She’s safe,” he said, his voice even.

  “Why would they break into the house? What were they looking for?” Danielle asked.

  “Drugs? Maybe they were looking for Jenny. We don’t know.”

  “You lied to me from the beginning.” Danielle’s words dripped with disgust. She straightened, pushing back her shoulders. She refused to succumb to the sobs clawing at her throat. Not in front of Patrick.

  Hot rage seethed under her skin. “Why didn’t you protect Jenny that night?”

  “We tried.” The regret in his eyes was unmistakable. But she didn’t care. His actions had led to her sister’s injuries.

  “Apparently not hard enough.” Hurt and sarcasm edged her words. “What went wrong?” Danielle pinned him with a gaze, heat rolling off her skin.

  “Jenny went into the bar on Thursday night. She played a few games of pool, asked around on how to make a purchase. She got spooked before she had a chance to make a deal.”

  “Why would someone hurt her if she never made a drug deal?”

  “To send a message.”

  “I have a message for you.” She gave him a measured look. “You’ll never use my sister to help you again.” She pressed a palm to her forehead and a bitter laugh sounded on her lips. “I’m a lawyer and my own sister didn’t come to me for help.”

  “I made sure Jenny got home safely that night. I followed her vehicle home. Watched her go into the house. Whatever happened to her, happened after she made it home.”

  “Someone must have followed you.”

  “We were careful, but Billy does have men working for him.” He lowered his voice. “I’m afraid we couldn’
t watch all of them.”

  Danielle’s eyes drifted closed and she shook her head. She yanked open the door and stepped inside. Turning, she caught Patrick’s pleading gaze just before she slammed the door in his face. She turned the lock and pressed her forehead against the door. The cool wood did little to stop her head from spinning. Jenny is involved with drugs. And Patrick had used her.

  Like all the men who had used her mother.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Danielle found Jenny sitting up in her hospital bed, remote in hand, flipping through the channels. Jenny looked as agitated as Danielle felt. She hadn’t slept much last night. Her ears had twitched at any and every bump in the night. Thank goodness they’d had an alarm system installed. But still, daylight hadn’t come soon enough. And even though she didn’t relish confronting her sister, it beat watching the digital clock mark time with painful accuracy.

  Jenny finally flicked a gaze her way, but only for a second. The television proved more interesting. Finally Jenny spoke, her voice even. “Patrick told you.” She gestured toward her with the remote. “And you have that look…” Jenny wrinkled her nose, “…disgust? Disappointment? Maybe a mix of the two with a little dash of superiority tossed in. The same way you used to look at Mom when she came home with alcohol on her breath.” Jenny aimed the remote at the television, turning the volume up.

  Danielle ripped the remote from her sister’s hand and tossed it across the room. It crashed against the wall. The batteries rolled in opposite directions across the gray tile.

  “Hey, why did you do that?”

  “Why do you want to ruin your life?”

  “Like Mom?” Jenny said, cocking an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips.

  Danielle leaned a hip against the foot rail and crossed her arms. “You were only ten when Mom left. I thought maybe you wouldn’t…” She let her words trail off. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  Jenny hitched a shoulder. “Some things you can’t escape.”

  Danielle let out a long breath, unsure of where to begin. “Why would you go down the same path?”