Fresh Ice

by Sarah J. Bradley

  “Like a toast. I thought about going up and finding out what the deal was, but I wasn’t ready to have polite conversation with him.”

  “You’ve been in love with her a long time, haven’t you?”

  “Our whole lives. I thought this time I had a chance. But then she had to go and...I said some really rotten things to her. Even with Quinn turning bastard on her, it’s doubtful she’ll forgive me.”

  “Don’t crap on Quinn just yet. He’s been a really stand up guy since Izzy’s been around. Maybe you didn’t see what you think you saw.”

  “I saw what I saw, Cat. He’s partying again, and you know his history.”

  “I know what I’ve seen now. They had a fight. She played your weepy songs all night. I heard her chipping away at that iceberg she keeps in her freezer.”

  “So she was drinking wine.”

  “I don’t expect her up any time soon, if the number of times she chiseled ice is in proportion to the number of glasses of wine she downed.”

  “Well surprise to you, Cat.” Unable to stay out of the conversation any longer, Izzy stepped off the final stair and squinted at the light in the kitchen. “I’m up.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Izzy managed to send a glare in Collier’s general direction. “I’ll be okay after a fistful of aspirin and your strongest coffee, Cat.”

  Cat nodded. “Sure. Go sit in a comfy chair by the TV and I’ll get you something.”

  “Thanks.” Izzy left the kitchen and went to the television room. There was no one in the room, but the huge television was on, tuned to the local news.

  “Izzy,” Collier followed her.

  “Not now. I’m really not up to it.”

  “I didn’t know about someone attacking you.”

  “How could you?” She sank into the ancient armchair closest to the television, and clicked on the news. “You were very busy feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “That’s not fair. No one called me.”

  Izzy closed her eyes. “It’s been sort of a hellish couple days. You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t feel up to being that fair to you.”

  “What the hell?” Collier’s tone changed. “Can’t this guy stay out of any minute of my life?”

  “Yes, it’s all about you all the time.”

  “Open your eyes. Quinn is on the news.”

  Izzy focused on the big screen where Quinn was leaning on a woman’s shoulder outside Second Chance’s. “Turn up the sound.”

  “ ‘After performing a few songs onstage at local music club ‘Second Chance’s’ Murray had to be helped off the stage by long time paramour, local businesswoman Serena Shipley-Chapman.’”

  Izzy blanched. “That’s the woman.”

  “What’s the woman?” Cat set a cup of coffee on the table next to Izzy’s elbow.

  “Look,” Collier punched the DVR button on the remote. “That woman, Izzy?”

  “That’s the one. That’s the woman who attacked me.”

  “Are you sure?” Collier’s voice was tight.

  “Yes. That’s the woman that dislocated my arm in the locker room.”

  “But that can’t be.”

  Both women stared at Collier. “Why not?” Izzy didn’t understand his reaction. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “That can’t be Serena Shipley Chapman.”

  “I thought she seemed familiar. It’s got to be Serena, if that’s Serena and that’s the woman who attacked me.”

  “No, no. Serena Shipley Chapman has red hair. She’s famous for it. Almost as famous for her hair as she is for anything else. That woman has…dark hair.”

  “She must’ve had it colored. The news wouldn’t get something like that wrong.” Cat took the remote and replayed the clip. “Why does it matter anyway what color her hair is?”

  Collier stood up and paced in front of the television. “The woman…in the bar.”

  “And?” Cat’s face blanched, confusing Izzy even more.

  “I was at a bar when I called you. And I was…well, I’m sure a lot of people heard my end of the conversation.” Collier paused in his pacing and set horrified eyes on Izzy. “There was a woman there, and she was so nice, so sympathetic. I told her everything.”

  Izzy’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean, ‘everything’?”

  “I told her about you and about Quinn and about the charity event and how you’re having this huge homecoming in Nashville. I even told her…I even told her where you were practicing.” He spoke little louder than a whisper, and didn’t look at her.

  “You said all this to Serena Shipley Chapman?”

  Without taking his eyes away from Izzy, Collier answered Cat. “If the woman right there,” he pointed to the television screen, “is truly Serena, then yes, I told Serena Shipley Chapman about you and Quinn. But that doesn’t mean she’s the one who attacked you, Izzy. Seriously, how would you not recognize her?”

  “You sure didn’t.” Cat grumbled, drawing a glare from Collier. “And you saw a whole lot more clearly than Izzy did.”

  “She and I never really met. Coach didn’t want me around her bad influence, especially after Jason…” Izzy sank deeper in the armchair. “Now I’m really confused.”

  Collier slumped onto the nearby sofa. “Why would she change her hair color?”

  “She’s talking about Quinn, idiot.” Cat punched Collier’s shoulder.

  “At the hospital, he kissed me and said he loved me. Yesterday, he was supposed to pick me up and he didn’t, so I went to his place. He told me,” Izzy shook her head, “he told me he made Jason drain our bank accounts because he wanted me for himself.”

  “What?” Cat and Collier shouted in unison.

  “I wanted to call the police.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Well, because I drank a couple bottles of wine instead. But now, things just don’t add up,” Izzy bit her lip. “If he wanted me bad enough to destroy my husband and trick me into coming to Nashville, why would he wait until a few days ago to…you know?”

  Collier grimaced. “If Quinn Murray wants the woman, he gets the woman. If he was truly willing to destroy Jason to have you, he wouldn’t have waited an hour, much less almost a year.”

  “You know, I did have some say in it.”

  Cat and Collier looked at each other and laughed. “You clearly don’t grasp his reputation. But let’s retrace the steps: You guys have the big thing, then you’re attacked by his boss, who might also be his girlfriend. Then he tells you he loves you. Then he gives you some huge story about how he’s the one who made Jason give him all your money. Does anyone else see a gigantic gap in the sequence?”

  “It sounds more like he realized Serena attacked you and now he’s trying to protect you by keeping you as far away from him as possible.”

  “But why would Serena want to attack me?”

  “Maybe she blames you for losing a gold medal.” Collier looked at both women. “She and Jason were partners, after all. Plus, the rumors about them as a couple were pretty juicy.”

  “My mother mentioned that.” Izzy tried to recall Dollie’s words. “They had to pay him a ton of money to clear up some debts he had because of Serena.”

  “Now she and Quinn are together, according to the news, and you and Quinn are together, according to you. Maybe she sees this as you stealing yet something else from her.” Collier blanched. “Which means…”

  “Which means, genius, your little meltdown in New York sent a murderously jealous woman straight to Izzy. I’m betting Quinn made a deal with Serena, where he had to break Izzy’s heart just to protect her. Well done.” She patted Collier on the back.

  Collier brushed away Cat’s hand and knelt next to Izzy. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I was just so…I was so angry that you didn’t choose me. Again.”

  Izzy’s anger melted in pool of penitence in Collier’s eyes. “Don’t worry about, I’ll mend. And as for Quinn...” Izzy looked back at the screen. “H
e went home with her last night, didn’t he?”

  Collier sat next to her. “He doesn’t look that happy about it.”

  “He might be more than unhappy.” Cat hit a few more buttons. “Look at his face as that hag lady is dragging him away. Read his lips.”

  Izzy stared at Quinn, at his flushed face, his dead eyes.

  Where’s Izzy?

  Izzy stared at the screen, silent. Collier and Cat said nothing.

  “Mom, you left your phone in the car.” Jenna walked in, holding Izzy’s cell. “You’ve missed like twenty calls. What’s everyone looking at? Is that Quinn?”

  Izzy nodded to her daughter, still numb from what she was watching on the screen. “Yes.”

  “I heard he put on quite the show last night at Chance’s.”

  Her phone rang. “Hello? I’m sorry, what’s your name? Benny?” Izzy glanced at the others, looking for a clue as to who was calling her. Cat’s eyes widened. “Benny, slow down. What? When? Okay, yes, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She ended the call.

  “Was that Benny Jensen, the producer at WNSH?” Cat asked.

  Izzy nodded. “I’m Quinn’s emergency contact. He collapsed at the station a couple hours ago. Benny said he was fine, then he got pale, and dizzy, a he threw up and had some sort of convulsion.”

  Jenna jangled her keys. “I’ll drive.”

  “Can I do anything?”

  Cat grinned at Collier. “I don’t know. Does Izzy have any other enemies? You could just bring them all in here at once.”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “Stop it you two. You guys have to call the police for me.” Izzy paused at the door and shook her head at Jenna who gave her a quizzical look. “Tell them to match the hair and skin they got from me against anything they have on Serena Shipley Chapman. Collier, tell them about your conversation in New York. Ask for that Detective Emerson, the one who was with me at the hospital.”

  The drive across town to the hospital was endless. Quinn has to be okay. Izzy closed her eyes and pictured him the way she saw him last. He said horrible things about himself, things that could not possibly be true. How could I have believed any of it?

  It was Serena who attacked me. It was probably Serena who blackmailed Jason. She thought, again, of the night so many years ago when Jason woke her, put her in a car, and drove her to Wisconsin. He was afraid of Serena. He was trying to protect the baby and me from Serena.

  Just like Quinn did yesterday.

  “Mom, here, I’ll drop you off at the door. I’ll park the car and catch up with you.” Jenna nudged her.

  Izzy climbed out of the car and walked into the emergency room. A stout man stood near the admitting desk. “I’m Izzy Marks. Are you Benny?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The man looked at her with frightened eyes. “How do you know Quinn? He’s never mentioned your name before.”

  Izzy managed a week smile. “I work at his favorite Waffle house.”

  Benny returned her smile. “Then you’re the one.”

  “The one?”

  “Here, sit down. They said they’d call when he was…when he could have visitors.” Benny led her to the chairs. “See, I’ve wondered for a long time what was different about him lately. He seemed happy. He hasn’t been happy since Sally died.”

  Sally? Who’s Sally?

  “I’ll explain later,” Benny patted her hand. “That’s the longer version of the story, and we don’t have time for it. You must be the one, though, that’s made him happy.”

  “I guess. But we…we broke up yesterday.”

  Benny nodded. “And that would explain Chance’s. It’s been a long time since he went on a bender. I’ve seen him look rough, but nothing like this morning.” Benny paled at the memory. “Why did you guys break up, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Izzy shook her head. “I was willing to believe something horrible about him.”

  “A lot of people make that mistake, Miss Izzy. Outside of being a complete party animal when he’s drinking, he’s a really decent guy.” Benny’s eyes welled.

  A nurse walked up to Izzy. Her name tag read Grace Callen. “You’re Mr. Murray’s emergency contact?”

  “Yes. Can I see him now?”

  Grace shook her head. “Let’s just say that in cases like this, it’s best if you wait until he’s a bit more presentable. How are you related to Mr. Murray?”

  If I’m not family they won’t let me in. “I’m his sister.” She ignored Benny’s surprised expression.

  Grace nodded. “The doctor has some questions, family history, that sort of thing.”

  Why did I say I was family? I don’t know anything about his family history.

  Another nurse stuck her head out of the big doors. “Is this Mr. Murray’s family?”

  “Yes.” Grace didn’t look up from her chart.

  “She can come in.”

  Izzy followed Grace through the heavy automatic doors and down the hall to yet another closed door. Grace nodded to the door, which Izzy pushed open slowly, unable to completely absorb the scene in front of her. Quinn lay motionless in a bed, machines beeping in an ominous circle around him. A breathing tube pumped air into his lungs.

  “You’re his sister?” A doctor stood behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Yes…I’m…Izzy Marks.”

  “I’m Dr. Blanche Passavant.” The doctor pulled the mask off her face. “I couldn’t care less who you are to him, if you can help me. You were his only emergency contact.”

  Izzy exhaled. “What’s wrong with him?”

  The woman checked the bank of monitors over Quinn’s head. “I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that, Miss Marks.”

  “I don’t…I haven’t seen him since…I talked to him yesterday morning. I don’t know what he’s done since then.”

  “From what Mr. Jensen told us, and from what we saw when they brought him in, my initial diagnosis was alcohol poisoning.”

  “He doesn’t drink.”

  “He did last night.” Dr. Passavant studied her closely. “He presents with all the classic symptoms: Vomiting, seizures, slowed breathing, cold skin. Mr. Jensen said he seemed very confused about his recent history. Something about a Sally?”

  “There’s a lot of confusion about that, Doctor.”

  “Even so, everything fits in with alcohol poisoning. Except for one thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “Which is a fever. When he came in with chilled skin I thought it was hypothermia, another symptom of alcohol poisoning. But he’s got a hundred and four degree temperature. That’s why you’re here.”

  Izzy couldn’t take her eyes off of Quinn. His chest barely moved, and there was little else about him that gave any indication of life. “What can I do?”

  “If this is some other form of poison, something he maybe ate or drank in the last twelve hours or so, that’s something we have to know as soon as possible.”

  Izzy closed her eyes. She’s going to ask the next question. I couldn’t answer it when it was Jason. How can I possibly answer it now that it’s Quinn?

  “Has Mr. Murray been depressed lately?”

  Izzy bit her lip and recalled the last words she uttered to him. I told him to go to hell. He told me he loved me, that I should hang on to that no matter what else I heard, and I told him to go to hell.

  “Miss Marks?”

  “I’m sorry. I was thinking of the last time we spoke. We had an argument.”

  Doctor Passavant closed her chart. “Miss Marks, I don’t have time to be coy. I know Mr. Murray was fired. The radio station had a press conference this morning. So he’s out of a job and you and he had an argument. Could he be depressed about that?”

  There was too much for Izzy to comprehend. “I don’t know. Two days ago I would never think it possible.” She watched Quinn, searching for any flickering sign of hope. “Doctor, please, can I just stay here, with him, for a minute?”

  The doctor smiled empathet
ically. “There’s a chair right there. If you’re chilled, there are blankets in the cupboard there. You can stay as long as you like.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve got nurses outside monitoring everything. If you need anything, if you think of anything, let Nurse Callen know. She’ll contact me.”

  “Thank you.” Izzy took a step toward the chair. “Oh, Doctor?”

  “Yes?”

  “If this was an accident, what would…do this?”

  Dr. Passavant tapped her pen against her mouth. “My bet, if this was truly accidental, is something he would have ingested late last night or early this morning. If you can think of anyone who ate a meal with him that would really be good. We’re running a toxicology screen on him, but those take time. Time is the one thing we just don’t have.”

  Izzy nodded. “I can’t think of anyone right now, but maybe Mr. Jensen. Let me talk to him, and I’ll come right back.”

  She hustled down the corridor to the waiting room. “Benny!”

  Benny looked up from his quiet conversation with Jenna. “Miss Izzy?”

  “Who would Quinn have eaten with last night? Dinner…breakfast?”

  Benny shrugged. “No clue about dinner. He was at Chance’s until late and Boss Lady took him home.”

  “What about breakfast?”

  “Quinn doesn’t breakfast with anyone. It’s his rule. Women don’t stay over.” Benny lowered his eyes. “Sorry, Miss Izzy.”

  Geez, Southern manners! Give me some Midwestern blunt talk right now! “Benny, never mind that. Last night, would Quinn have gone anyplace after Chance’s?”

  “Doubtful. Chance’s was always sort of his last stop.”

  “Serena took him from Chance’s. Dragged him, Mike said,” Jenna offered.

  Izzy nodded. “So would Serena have taken him home, and made him breakfast?”

  “Serena Shipley Chapman? Make breakfast for anyone?” Benny almost smiled. “No, not likely. She doesn’t like to get her hands dirty.”

  “What are you getting at, Mom?”

  “They think Quinn poisoned himself. Either with alcohol, or on purpose with something else. We need to find what he’s eaten in the last twelve hours.”

  “I could go to his apartment and look around, if you’d like?”