“Yeah…no…yeah…you have what I have…no. Yeah, of course I'm staying. We'll call before we leave.” Nick ended the call and handed Vivi's cell back without a word.
“Any interest in telling me what that was about?” she asked.
“No.” He didn't hesitate. There were a hundred and one reasons Nick might not want to talk about his conversation with the Deputy Chief of Police, but Vivi trusted Ian to tell her what she needed to when she next saw him. She sat back and looked at her watch. It was hard to believe less than two hours had passed since they'd all rushed out of the police station. She sighed.
“So you're going to take ‘no’ for an answer?” Daniel's tone was bordering on a belligerence Vivi knew was based in fear.
“Yes,” she said.
His jaw ticked. “Well, I'm not. What did Ian say? What does he have?” He directed his questions to Nick.
“Nothing that concerns you, Daniel.” Nick answered.
“If it involves this case, if it involves Meghan, it's my concern,” Daniel insisted.
Nick yawned and stretched his arms overhead before answering. Vivi thought his nonchalance was a bit overdone, even if he was trying to make a point.
“Look, Daniel, I like you. You seem like a good kid, and you're one of Viv's students, so you can't be all dumb. But this is your first rodeo, you don't get to call the shots, you don't get to demand information,” Nick said.
“Like hell—”
Daniel cut himself off when Jesse knocked on the door and entered the room. Vivi figured the woman sensed some tension, because she stopped a stride into the room and cast her eyes across all three of them before focusing in on Vivi.
“You're the only law enforcement officer officially on this case, according to Ian, so you're the one we'll talk to. What I can say to all of you is that her mother was well enough to make it here and is sitting with her now.”
“So Meghan's alive?” Daniel stood. The hope in his voice was almost painful.
Jesse inclined her head. “Alive, but in a coma. That's all I'll say. Dr. Demarco?” Jesse opened the door and gestured Vivi out, leading her down the hall to another small room where a woman was removing her scrubs and washing up. Her head came up as they entered.
“Abigail,” Jesse said, “this is Dr. Vivienne DeMarco. She's working with Ian on trying to sort out what happened to Meghan. Dr. DeMarco, this is Dr. Abigail Martinez. I'll leave you two to talk.”
When Jesse was gone, Vivi turned to Dr. Martinez.
“Call me Abigail, please. I'd shake your hand, but, well, you'll have to forgive me,” she said as she stepped on the foot pedal and started to wash the soap off her hands and forearms. “Meghan suffered severe trauma to the head as well as an attempted strangulation. The trauma was a beating—maybe by an object, but more likely, in my opinion, by a fist—that was concentrated on her face.”
“Was she raped?” Vivi asked.
Abigail shook her head. “Surprised us, too. Given the state she was in when she arrived, I was all but certain we'd find evidence of rape. But we didn't. She's pretty banged up in a couple of other places—her left arm, both sides of her rib cage, and her lower spine.”
“Damage from the strangulation?”
“Yes, but nothing she can't recover from. Like I said, it's the head trauma we're worried about. The beating was so severe she has a broken jaw, two shattered cheekbones, and a fracture that originates at her right temple and runs up to the top of her skull. And there is significant swelling around the brain,” Abigail supplied.
She dried her hands and turned to face Vivi. “Even if she makes it, we won't know for a while if there is any permanent damage,” she added.
“And what chances are you giving her?”
Abigail's head cocked to the side. “I wouldn't tell her family this, but maybe thirty percent. As you know, these first few days will tell us a lot about her ability to recover from the injuries, but we'll still have to wait to see if she comes out of the coma.”
Vivi considered what she was hearing, and for more than the obvious reasons, she didn't like the sound of it. In front of her, Abigail Martinez must have been thinking along the same lines as she let out a deep sigh.
“Whoever did this to her had a lot of rage. Maybe at all women, but I'd bet my retirement there was something specific about Meghan.” She paused, then shrugged, and shook her head. “I'm not a psychologist, but if you ask me, anytime a person's face is attacked the way Meghan's was, there's got to be some underlying psychosis there.”
Vivi was a psychologist and couldn't agree more. So, after making arrangements to collect additional evidence from Meghan and gather the evidence already collected by Abigail and her team, Vivi thanked the doctor and made her way toward Meghan's room.
In the hall, Nick met her with an evidence collection kit and a promise to be nearby. She gave him a brief overview, making sure he understood the seriousness of Meghan's condition so he could convey the information to Daniel. And while she knew there was always the chance she might find evidence on Meghan that could help break the case open, it was with a heavy heart that she prepared to violate the young woman's body one more time in the name of justice.
As Vivi approached the room, she spotted Jesse gazing in Meghan's window, a look of sadness etched on her face. In silence, Vivi came to her side. Looking in, they saw a thin, still form lying under blankets with a myriad of wires protruding from underneath, all attached to machines that beeped, moved up and down, and flashed numbers. At Meghan's side was a frail-looking woman sitting in a low-slung chair. Wrapped in a big sweater, the woman sat still, her back straight, her hand grasping Meghan's. Her mother. Vivi sighed.
“Do you have children?” Jesse asked.
Vivi thought about all the times she and Ian had been together in the past few days. They'd always used a condom, but stranger things had happened. “No,” she shook her head. “You?”
“Yes, two boys. My oldest is a junior in high school this year, but when he was a freshman, Meghan was a senior.” Her voice was distant but strong. “He didn't know her well but when she got pregnant, well, it's a small town and an even smaller high school. Everyone knew.”
“That must have been hard for her,” Vivi said.
“I'm sure it must have been, but she never let that show in public. She settled down and was always sweet and kind. Believe me, I'm the last person to condone teenage pregnancy, but I've always respected her, how well she handled everything. I know when my kids were young I didn't parent with as much grace as she does.”
“I'm sure she's had her moments.”
Jesse gave a soft laugh. “I'm sure she has, but now that I'm on my own, I have even more respect for her. My husband was killed in a fire in his office building a year ago.” The last was added almost as an aside, like she'd just remembered she wasn't talking to someone born and raised in the area.
“I'm sorry. I haven't lost a spouse, but my parents and my brother both died last year. Separate incidences, one car accident and one insurgent attack in Afghanistan.” It felt strange to say the words aloud to a virtual stranger. But though Vivi was still aware of the wrenching pain that gripped her when she thought of her family, it was tempered by something. By what, she didn't know, but looking at Meghan and then at Jesse, maybe, she thought, maybe she didn't have to feel so alone.
“I'm sorry,” Jesse said softly.
Vivi lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, me, too. But we do the best we can do.”
Jesse nodded in understanding. “Yes, we do. And if Meghan is even a tiny bit the fighter I think she is, she's going to pull through. And she's going to want to see whoever did this to her brought to justice.”
“So, I should go in and do my thing?”
“I already told her mom you would be coming in. She's expecting you.”
CHAPTER 22
IAN HEARD THE DOOR OPEN and looked up from his desk to see Vivienne and Nick walk in. The day was still young from an hours perspective, but fr
om an emotional one, well, it had run the gamut and both of them looked it.
“In here,” he called. Without a word, they veered from the stairs and walked into his office, closing the door behind them.
“Did Wyatt make it down to the hospital?” he asked.
Vivienne nodded and handed him a brown paper bag—he could feel the warmth from the grilled sandwich inside. “I figured you hadn't had lunch either,” she said, opening her own bag. “I gave Wyatt everything I collected and what the hospital did too. He and Daniel are running it up to Albany now. Daniel was supposed to be there already, but he stopped for breakfast before heading up this morning, then saw us leaving the station and hopped in the car with Carly and Wyatt. The wisdom of allowing him to do that is something I'm still debating,” Vivienne added as she sat down with a heavy sigh and took a bite of her sandwich. Nick came to stand behind her, giving Ian a look.
“I don't suppose there was anything obvious?” Ian asked, opening his lunch. He hadn't thought much about food since leaving his house this morning, but now that it was in front of him, he was starving.
Vivienne shook her head. “I wish. We won't know exactly what we found until Sam can run all the tests, but I didn't see anything that struck me immediately as being a key piece of evidence. It's possible, in the scrapings I took from her nails, there might be skin, but I couldn't tell.”
“And how was she when you left? Did her mom make it in?” Ian asked.
“Yes, she was there. Very quiet woman. Meghan was hanging in there. It will probably be a while before we understand the full extent of her injuries,” Vivienne answered.
“Before she can tell us anything.” Ian put his sandwich down and rubbed a hand over his face.
“If she can tell us anything,” Nick interjected. “So, where do things stand, guv?”
Ian rose from his chair and walked to the window. The world on Main Street was going about its business, but he knew in most of those shops, shops owned by locals, people were talking.
“Marcus and Carly are trying to trace Meghan's movements prior to the attack, interviewing neighbors and the like,” Ian answered.
“What about her car, Ian?” Vivienne asked.
“We found it at the train station in Riverside. Her mom said she was supposed to take the train, so we went there first and there it was. No signs of a struggle.”
“Do you think she was snatched from the station?”
Ian considered Vivienne's question, then lifted a shoulder. “Who knows? And before you ask, there is no surveillance, so no video to look at. It's possible she actually made it to the city and was taken from there.”
“You know what train she was supposed to be on, I assume you're looking at video from New York?” Nick half asked, half suggested.
“The train went into Penn Station and yeah, we have a request for the video. We should have it later today or tomorrow morning, and we'll go from there.”
“Yay, more video,” Vivienne said. Her tone might have been dry, but Ian didn't doubt she would be the first one to volunteer to review it. He let his eyes drift back to Main Street. An older woman was coming out of the bank with a little girl in tow. They stopped to talk to a man who owned one of the shops a few doors down. The woman laughed and the little girl pulled on her hand, wanting to go. Ian knew it was time.
“How do you both feel about a field trip?” he asked, turning to Vivienne and Nick. They glanced at each other before shrugging their acceptance.
“I want to check out Simon Willard and Timothy Howell.”
“Who are they?” Vivienne asked. Ian looked at Nick before answering.
“They own the houses your cousins thought we should look into. We're trying to dig up more information on them, but I think it's time for a visit. Given their proximity to where Rebecca Cole was staying, we can fudge our reasons a bit.”
“You want me to go because you want to see how they'll react to seeing me. See if they give anything away,” Vivienne said, crumpling up her wrapper and shoving the remains of her lunch back into the bag.
He hated that she didn't even ask. That she just stated it, like a fact. He hated even more that he was asking her to do this.
“That's a bit daft, guv, don't you think? Dangling her out there like that?” Nick's chummy words didn't hide his opinion.
“Nice of you to care, Nick. But that's why I want you there. I can take care of Simon or Timothy, but if anything does go south, I want you there to protect Vivienne.”
“How about protecting her by not putting her on the doorstep of a possible suspect?” Nick retorted.
“I don't need protection,” she interjected. Both men snorted. She rolled her eyes. “Oh right, this is one of those ridiculous guy things, right? Is this the ‘I must protect the woman’ version or the ‘I need to know you're taken care of to do my job’ rationale? Which one are you aiming for here, Ian?”
“Probably both, Vivienne.”
She sighed. “At least you're honest.”
“Why don't I protect her right here, and you go interview the two men?” Nick offered.
“Because he needs to see how they react when they see me. And he probably wants my professional opinion, too,” Vivienne answered for him.
“Not to mention, I'd like for you to meet them and see if either seems at all familiar,” Ian added.
Nick opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and shook his head. “This is seriously messed up, but you know I won't let you go alone, so let's get it over with.”
* * *
Ian took in the house of Timothy Howell as they pulled up the driveway. A dog came bounding out of one of the outbuildings, reminding him to call and check on Rooster. His pup had seemed fine when they'd dropped him off at his parents’ earlier, but the accident had still been an ordeal for the young dog.
“Nice view,” Nick commented, as he exited the car. Ian and Vivi joined him beside the vehicle, and from where they stood, they had an uninterrupted view of the front of the house where Rebecca Cole had stayed. They were far enough away to foster a sense of privacy, but it would be easy to see when someone was home and, with binoculars, what they were doing.
A man wearing overalls and wiping his hands on a rag walked out of the building the dog had just come from. He was of average height with light brown hair that was receding a bit at the front.
“Can I help you?” he asked as he approached the group. Ian watched Howell take them all in. And he didn't miss how the man's gaze lingered on Vivienne for a moment too long.
Ian stepped forward. “Timothy Howell?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Deputy Chief of Police, Ian MacAllister and these are my colleagues Dr. DeMarco and Agent Larrimore.” Howell nodded and looked at Ian.
“I'm sure you've heard about the woman we found a few days ago. She was staying at that house,” he pointed behind him as he spoke.
“Sure, everyone's heard about that.”
“Given your view of the place, did you ever see anything, hear anything?” Ian asked.
“Hear anything? I'm a ways away, I doubt I would hear anything,” Howell answered.
“Sounds travel around the valley sometimes,” Ian offered.
Howell frowned. “No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I saw lights on and off, of course, but nothing that unusual.”
“No cars, trucks, or vans coming or going?” Ian pressed.
Howell shrugged, and his eyes darted to Vivienne before he answered. “Not really. I travel a lot this time of year, building houses down south or in warmer climates. I'm usually here more in the summer, running workshops, teaching classes, that sort of thing.”
“You ever been to Boston?” Ian asked.
The question seemed to take Howell by surprise, which was Ian's intention.
“Of course, hasn't everyone been to Boston? It's only a few hours away.”
“And New York?” Ian saw suspicion creeping into Howell's eyes, and the man physically drew
back.
“Of course.”
“When was the last time you were in the city?” Ian pressed again.
“Is this the point in the conversation when I ask if I'm a suspect?”
“Routine questions,” Ian replied to Howell's obvious irritation.
“I was in the city a few days ago. I got back the day before yesterday. I was working on a townhouse down in Tribeca,” Howell answered, his voice curt.
“Do you recognize this woman?” Ian asked Howell with a gesture to Vivienne. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick straighten.
Howell looked at Vivienne, his eyes trailing all over her. Ian's skin was crawling, but he knew he showed no signs.
Finally, Howell looked back and answered. “No, but she does remind me of my ex-wife a bit. Same dark hair, same,” his eyes went back to Vivienne for a fleeting moment, “same build.”
“Thank you, Mr. Howell. Will you be around if we have any more questions?” Ian stepped back.
Howell shrugged. “I'm scheduled to be here for the next month.”
“Good,” Ian nodded. “We'll be in touch.”
Back in Ian's Jeep, Vivienne was the first to speak. “Well, that was gross.”
“Gross, but useful,” Ian commented. “Unless the guy is a very good actor, he's never seen you before. On the other hand, he did say you look like his ex-wife, and there didn't seem to be any love lost there,” he added as he turned out of Howell's driveway
“Ian, there are two more houses you can see from here. I know they weren't on Naomi and Brian's list, but maybe they're worth checking out?” Vivienne pointed out as they passed a break in the trees that allowed them a different view.
Ian scanned the area and saw the two pieces of property she was talking about. He didn't know who currently lived at the locations, but he knew one used to be the family farm of a friend of his dad's.
He phoned in to the station and asked Carly to look up the names of the owners. As they made their way to Simon Willard's house, she filled them in on what was popping up on her computer.
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