She glanced up from the file she’d been looking at. She got to her feet. “Agent Curtis,” she said as she approached him. “What can I do for you?”
“I have something important that I can use some help with.” He held up the notepad. “I think Dr. Zumsteg wrote out what we’re looking for, but I can’t read his handwriting.”
“I’m pretty good at reading Dr. Zumsteg’s writing.” Carrie looked less teary and red-eyed today, clearly having pulled herself together for work. “As long as what is on here has nothing to do with any patients, I would be glad to help.”
Dylan thanked her and she let him use the copier to print out a copy of the note. She took the copy while Dylan held onto the notepad. She sat at her desk and started making notes in the half page beneath the scrawl.
It didn’t take Carrie long. She got up from the desk, holding the piece of paper. “It’s a personal note and doesn’t seem to have anything to do with any patients. It does have to do with a Nate. I think it fits the parameters of the warrant and I don’t have a problem giving it to you.”
Dylan gestured to the paper Carrie held. “Would you mind giving me a photocopy of what you’ve written out?”
“No problem.” She went to the copier and in moments was back, handing him both pieces of paper.
He took the copies. “I appreciate your help.”
“You’re welcome.” Carrie’s expression held a lot of grief once again. “I hope this helps you solve this case.”
He touched his fingers to the brim of his Stetson and gave her a nod before turning away. He felt a peculiar stirring in his gut as he read a note from a dead friend to a dead friend.
Tom,
It’s great to have you back in Bisbee, and working at the Copper Queen Hospital. This town needs a good man like you for a local doctor.
What fun we had playing in the ditch with the runoff water from the copper mines. That was until your mom caught us. We got our hides tanned for that one.
People need your help. Glad you’re there for them.
Nate
The nurse had circled “mom” like Tom had, as well as having underlined the same sentence.
That was until your mom caught us.
Dylan considered Nate’s reference to playing in runoff water. Had it been his dad and not his mom who had caught them and taken something to them—a belt, or a strap, or a paddle. Maybe a wooden spoon or shoe for all Dylan knew.
But he remembered Mrs. Zumsteg and she’d been a kind woman. However, Mr. Zumsteg was another story. He had an edge to him, and Dylan wouldn’t have been surprised if he had done the spanking or beating.
“Mom versus Dad.” Dylan spoke his thoughts aloud. “Could be father, but since he used mom, dad seems more appropriate.”
He took the copy of the deciphered note, folded it, and put it in his shirt pocket before returning to Tom’s office.
Trace and the other two agents were winding down their search. Dylan put the notepad and the copy with the nurse’s handwriting into an evidence bag before turning the bag over to Trace.
Dylan pulled off his latex gloves as he spoke. “I think we got what we need.” He nodded to the bag. “It’s clearly a copy of the message Nate sent Tom on the postcard. I’d bet my truck on it.”
“Good.” Trace hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets as he studied Dylan. “Does it make any sense to you?”
Dylan thought about the underlined sentence and the circled word. “As much sense as any of the notes make. Nate sure didn’t make it easy on us. But he had to be certain that if anything happened to him, the CoS would compare the messages when we got together.”
Trace nodded, wearing a thoughtful expression. “And knowing that you solve riddles for a living, solving crimes, probably made him confident you would figure it all out.”
“Yeah, I’m betting you’re right.” Another rush of frustration tightened Dylan’s muscles. “Damn it. What the hell did Nate get himself into?”
“That probably all rests on what Salvatore Reyes is involved in.” Trace’s features darkened. “Whatever he’s done, he deserves to pay. It’s clear he’s done something to his wife and he needs to answer for that.” Trace’s words came out in a low growl. “Death would be too good for that sonofabitch.”
~~*~~
When Dylan left Marta’s room, Belle felt as if a connection tethering her to him had been severed. The sensation was like a hook had torn her guts out and left nothing but ice in its place.
Belle took a deep breath and faced the two women in the room. One woman lying so still in her hospital bed with a gauge sticking out of her skull while the other woman sat beside the bed.
“Hi, Nancy.” Belle offered Marta’s wife a little smile.
Nancy met Belle’s gaze. “Hi, Belle.” The blonde woman glanced at Marta. “Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids.” Blue eyes brimming with tears, Nancy looked back to Belle. “It’s a good sign. She’s dreaming.”
Belle went to Nancy, who got to her feet. Belle wrapped her arms around Nancy, who hugged her back with a fierceness that showed how much she needed the support. Belle felt the woman shake with a sob and warm tears wet Belle’s shoulder through her shirt.
“I’m sorry.” Nancy leaned back and wiped her tears away with her fingertips. “I can’t seem to stop crying.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Belle took Nancy’s hands in hers. Belle’s eyes were watering, too. “You love Marta. We all do. And you have every right to cry.”
Nancy hugged Belle again before drawing away. “No one else from the CoS has come since you and Christie last visited.”
“I know Leon would have visited if he could, and Christie would come back…if she was able to.” More tears gathered at the backs of Belle’s eyes. There was no sense in telling Nancy that Christie had been kidnapped…or worse. Not with Marta lying comatose in a hospital bed. For all she knew, Marta could hear, too, and it might cause additional stress to her system. Who could say?
Belle continued, “Because of what happened to Nate, Tom, and Marta, everyone is in protective custody.”
“What about you?” Nancy tipped her head to the side. “Why are you here? You should be under protection, too.”
“Dylan is in the hospital with me.” Belle gestured to the door. “The DHS has an agent guarding the room, so we’re all fine. Dylan will be here just as soon as he finishes up with something to do with Tom.”
Nancy glanced at Marta. “I’ve been talking to her, telling her about the kids and asking her to return to me. I have to believe she can hear everything I say.”
“I’m sure she does.” Belle offered Nancy another smile. “She’ll come back to you and the children. I’m sure she will.” Belle had to believe with everything she had that what she said was true.
“I’m praying.” Nancy sniffled and picked up a tissue from a box on a stand next to the bed. “Praying hard. Every minute.”
“I’m praying, too.” Belle tucked strands of hair behind her ear. “How are your mother and your sons?”
“Still in protective custody.” Nancy sighed. “Mom has been allowed to call me on a secure line and I’ve been able to talk with the boys, too. The conversations are kept short, but it’s good to hear their voices.”
“I’m relieved to hear they’re safe and well.” Belle looked at Marta. “May I talk to Marta?”
Nancy moved aside and sat in another chair. “I know she’d like that.”
Belle perched on the edge of the chair Nancy had been occupying and took Marta’s hand in both of hers. Marta’s fingers were cool in Belle’s grip. Her eyes were drawn to the gauge in Marta’s shaved skull, the neck brace that held her head absolutely still, and the breathing apparatus. Seeing it all caused a swimming sensation in Belle’s abdomen. It was so hard to see her friend like this.
For a moment she just held Marta’s hand. A tall vase of lilies, carnations, roses, and lilacs was on the opposite side of the bed and Belle caught the pleasant smell of the flowers.
>
“How are you doing, honey?” Belle squeezed Marta’s fingers. “We miss you. It was so good to see you at the memorial and later at the Puma Den was fun. We’ll have to do it again when you wake up.”
Belle’s lips quivered, but she wanted to keep it light, to say things that would make Marta happy if she could hear and understand. “I’m looking forward to meeting your sons. I bet the twins are cute guys and a handful.” She imagined Marta smiling at the thought of her boys. “One day I’d like to join you in motherhood. It would be so much fun to get our kids together to play.”
The words Dylan had spoken to her just that morning went through Belle’s mind. “I’m never letting you go again.” She could picture him so clearly as he said it.
Belle’s chest ached and she swallowed. “I like the name Shane for a boy. What do you think?”
Movement beneath Marta’s eyelids made Belle’s heart pound a little faster. Could her friend understand her? Was Marta listening or dreaming? Or both?
“I’ve been thinking a lot of the things we did when we were young.” Belle shifted on the seat. “We were good kids and teenagers, too, but we got into our share of trouble, didn’t we?”
She continued, “Remember the time you and I got into Old Mrs. Swierc’s pomegranate bush in her back yard? We were seven and went to Central School at that time. We sat in the alleyway, pulling the fruit off the bush. At that time I didn’t know they were considered berries—the skin is so tough and there are so many seeds inside. But we loved sucking the pulp from the seeds and spitting the seeds out. Did you know that in the U.S. they can only grow in Arizona and California?”
The memory was strong and Belle smiled. “I’d been riding my pink bike with the white plastic basket on the front. Your bike was green with a black wire basket. I bet the boys could tell us what the makes were. I don’t remember.” She knew she was babbling, but she went on. “We each put pomegranates into our baskets, enough for the CoS to each have one. We were getting ready to ride to meet them when Mrs. Swierc came out of her house.”
Belle laughed. “She seemed so ancient then, swearing at us in Polish. She marched us to your mom’s house and between our parents we got into so much trouble.” Belle shook her head. “We were so innocent in those days.”
Marta’s eyes darted beneath her eyelids, something that encouraged Belle to go on and she talked about other adventures in their elementary school years with a fondness that made her smile.
When she thought aloud about junior high, she said, “Now those were the awkward years. All those crazy hormones. I think our parents were wondering what they were going to do to us and if they’d let us survive until we grew out of those stages.” She shook her head. “Remember how your mom put you into dance because she thought you needed a little refinement, and mine stuck me in softball with Christie just to get me out of the house?” She laughed. “Christie and I wanted to trade places with you so badly and take dance. You wanted to be the one playing softball. You always were the tomboy and I was such a girly girl.” She grinned. “Still am.”
Her grin faded and she sighed. “High school was different for us, but we still managed to stay close.” She tried not to think about how much her life had changed because of her stepfather. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch when I left.” Belle’s voice thickened as she struggled to hold back tears. “I’m sorry about what I put the CoS through and how much I worried all of you.” Her throat ached. “But I thought about you all the time. Christie told me what was going on with everyone. You know I love you, Marta. Don’t you?”
A slight tremor went through Marta’s hand. It was as if she was trying to say to Belle that she understood.
Belle nearly jumped out of her seat as she whipped her head to the side to look at Nancy. “I felt something. I think she was trying to squeeze my hand.”
Nancy did come up from her chair, her eyes wide, hope in her gaze. “You did? Are you sure?”
Belle reached for Nancy. “I guess I can’t be positive, but I think so.” She took Nancy’s hand and placed it over Marta’s. “Maybe she’ll do it again.” Belle traded places with Nancy.
Nancy sat and held Marta’s hand to her lips. “Come on, baby. I love you.”
For a moment, both Belle and Nancy were still. Then Nancy’s eyes widened. “I felt it. A slight pressure but it went away. She squeezed my hand.” Nancy looked stunned, as if she couldn’t believe it.
“I’ll find the doctor or a nurse.” Belle moved toward the door. “Dr. Miller, right?”
Nancy nodded, her gaze focused on Marta. “Yes.”
Belle opened the door and slipped out.
Agent DeLong looked at her. “You need to stay in the room, Ms. Hartford.”
“She moved. Marta moved.” Belle glanced down the hallway. “I need to find the doctor or a nurse. I’ll only be a moment.”
The agent shook his head. “You need to stay.”
Before he could stop her, she hurried to the closest nurse’s station. She was aware the agent couldn’t leave his post to chase her down, but saw him pulling his cell phone out of the holster at his belt. She didn’t want him disturbing Dylan, but this was too important to not take care of right away.
Belle felt a little lighter. Some good news. The thought that Christie had been kidnapped crashed right back into Belle and she felt a thud in her chest, a pain so deep it almost drove her to her knees.
She paused in the hallway and held her hand over her heart, trying to maintain her composure. Dylan and the other agents would find Christie. They would. Belle was certain of it, just as she was sure Marta would come out of the coma.
Belle reached the nurse’s station and saw a nurse with a badge that read Carrie Prince with the woman’s picture on it. Belle felt out of breath and then she was talking rapidly. “Marta De La Paz just moved. I mean she sort of squeezed my hand and then she did squeeze Nancy’s.”
The nurse smiled, in a way like it was the first thing she’d had to smile about in a while. “I’ll let Dr. Miller know and I’ll send Marta’s nurse, too.”
“Thank you.” Belle turned and hurried back down the hallway toward Marta’s room.
The agent looked relieved when she came around the corner and walked toward him. “Dylan is on his way, and the nurse beat you here.”
She was glad Agent DeLong had called Dylan. He would be happy to hear the news, too. “Thank you.”
He opened the door and she stepped inside.
Belle looked at the bed to see a male nurse leaning over Marta, his back to her. She couldn’t see Nancy. Maybe she’d gone to the restroom. Belle walked closer as the door shut silently behind her.
She opened her mouth to speak and then her mouth dropped open in horror. The nurse had a pillow over Martha’s face.
He was smothering her.
“No!” Belle grabbed the vase of flowers from the side of the bed at the same time she shouted.
The nurse whirled just as Belle swung the vase at his head like a baseball bat.
Flowers flew across the room. The vase shattered as it connected with his skull. He staggered back and shook his head.
In a flash she saw Nancy slumped in her chair and the pillow still on Marta’s face.
Belle was certain the oxygen tube was dislodged. She had to put it back!
The man lunged for Belle and he tackled her to the floor, knocking the breath from her. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and pinned her beneath his larger body.
Belle struggled but couldn’t move her legs. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out. Stars sparked in her mind as she clawed at his face.
Why hadn’t she screamed for the agent? It had all happened so quickly.
And now, dear God, she was going to die.
Vaguely she heard the door open and slam against the wall.
The sound of male voices.
Dylan’s shout.
A shot echoed through the room.
Blood splattered Belle’s face.
The man slumped on her chest. His fingers relaxed around her neck and then he was thrown off.
Dylan’s face appeared over hers, panic in his gaze. He grabbed her to him, holding her tightly to his chest.
“Belle.” He rocked her against him. “Thank God.”
She gasped. “Marta.”
He relaxed his grip and looked over his shoulder. “Belle needs medical attention. Now.”
Behind him she saw people bending over Marta and she relaxed in Dylan’s arms.
“I’m okay.” Her words came out in a hoarse whisper. “You hugged me too tightly.”
“You’re not okay.” Dylan looked at her with fierce intensity. “I am never letting you out of my sight again. Never.”
“I’ll have to go to the bathroom sometimes.” She didn’t know where the remark came from.
Dylan’s features softened. “I’ll go with you.”
Someone knelt beside them. Belle recognized Carrie Prince from the nurse’s station. “Let me see her, Agent Curtis.”
Dylan held her hand in his tight grip as the nurse checked her vitals.
Nurse Prince looked at another hospital employee who was on one knee beside them. “Let’s get her to a bed.”
“No.” It hurt Belle to shake her head and her throat ached as she croaked the words. “Marta. How is she?”
A third person stood over Belle. “She’ll be fine. We got to her in time, thanks to you.”
Belle realized the room was full of people now. “Let me up.” She tried to push herself in a sitting position.
“We need to make sure he didn’t hurt your neck too badly.” Nurse Prince spoke in a reprimanding tone as she held Belle down by her shoulders.
“Do as she says, sweetheart.” Dylan brushed his hand over her forehead.
“What about Nancy?” Panic lodged in Belle’s chest once again. “How is she?”
“She was drugged.” Agent DeLong was standing over them now. “They’re taking her to a room now. They found a syringe by her chair.”
Tears stung at Belle’s eyes. “Is she going to be okay?”
“The doctor thinks so, but they won’t say until they’re sure what was in the syringe.” Agent DeLong continued, “She was starting to come around, so they think she was just knocked out. They’ll let us know as soon as they can.”
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