by Laura Childs
“Everybody okay here?” Riley asked. “Holding on?” He looked like he was ready to pull out his pistol and do serious guard duty.
“We’re okay, but Jamie’s in tough shape,” Theodosia said.
“We’re waiting for the orthopedist,” Haley said.
Riley stepped over to Jamie’s bedside. “Tell me what happened,” he said in a soft voice.
“It’s kind of hard to say,” Jamie gulped. “I was jamming two bags of trash in the Dumpster and this dark car came flying down the alley. I heard tires squealing, and before I knew it—bam! It hit me and I went flying.”
“I heard the noise,” Haley said. “It was awful.”
“When I came to,” Jamie continued in a shaky voice, “Haley was standing over me, crying and yelling my name. Then she ran into the tea shop and phoned for an ambulance.”
“Did you see the driver’s face?” Riley asked.
Jamie shook his head. “No.”
“Do you remember the make and model of the car?”
“Dark,” Jamie said. “Black or maybe dark blue.” He grimaced. “Sorry I can’t come up with more.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Riley said. “You’re still in shock, so a faulty memory is to be expected. There’s a good chance you’ll be able to remember a few more details as time goes by.”
“I hope he will,” Haley said, pounding a fist into the palm of her hand. “Because you gotta get this guy!”
“We will,” Riley said. “I promise.”
“Hey,” a friendly voice called out. “Everybody look this way for a second, okay?”
They collectively turned in the direction of the voice, wondering what was going on, only to find themselves facing a camera lens.
“Smile,” Bill Glass said. There was a faint click and a bloom of bright light. “Good. But let me take another shot for insurance.”
“No way,” Theodosia cried, throwing up a hand to block his view.
“What are you doing here?” Riley asked. His face was an angry thundercloud.
“Just getting a snap,” Glass said, trying to sound innocent. But he wore a slightly sheepish grin.
“How did you even know we were here?” Theodosia asked.
“Heard it on my police scanner,” Glass said.
“You’re lucky I don’t confiscate that thing,” Riley said. “Rip it right out of your dashboard.”
“Come on,” Glass argued. “Have some faith, detective, I’m gonna make you look good. Like a real hero.”
“Mr. Jamie Weston?” a loud, authoritative voice called out as the curtains billowed and parted once again.
They all turned to look, even Bill Glass, at a tall man in green scrubs who was holding a chart and peering in at them. He had curly gray hair, wire-rim glasses, and a large nose. A doctor, no doubt. Probably the orthopedist.
“That’s me,” Jamie said, lifting a hand. “My leg is broken.”
“Excellent diagnosis,” the doctor said. “That’s what it says on your chart, too.”
“Are you the orthopedist?” Jamie asked.
“Last time I looked I was.” He crossed to Jamie’s bed and extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Peterson. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re going to fix my leg?” Jamie asked.
“If that’s what you want,” Dr. Peterson said.
“Will it hurt?”
Dr. Peterson shook his head. “Maybe a pinch at best. Tell you what, we’ll fill you up with good drugs and you won’t feel a thing.”
“Drugs?” Jamie said. “Good ones?” He sounded interested.
“Maybe not that good,” Dr. Peterson said. “But we’ll make sure you’re comfortable anyway.”
“Dr. Peterson,” Glass said. “Can I get a shot of you? Can you move slightly closer to the kid’s bed?”
“I don’t think so,” Dr. Peterson said.
“Get out of here,” Riley snarled.
A few minutes later, Dr. Peterson kicked all of them out. And Haley, Theodosia, and Riley found themselves clumped together in the busy hallway. Dazed-looking people limped past them, the walking wounded who’d been in car crashes, taken headers down porch steps, and had their flesh nipped by paring knives and sharp fishing hooks. The wounded intermingled with efficient-looking hospital personnel.
“What should we do now?” Theodosia asked.
“Nothing to do,” Riley said. “Just go home, I guess. I’ll drop by again in the morning. Maybe Jamie will be able to remember a few more details by then.”
“I should stay here with Haley,” Theodosia said.
“No,” Haley said. “You heard what the doctor said. They’re going to set Jamie’s leg and give him a knockout pill. He probably won’t wake up again until tomorrow morning. There’s nothing you can do here.”
“Be here for you?” Theodosia said.
Haley shook her head. “If I need you, I’ll give a holler.”
* * *
• • •
Theodosia arrived home, feeling tense and a little out of sorts. She fed Earl Grey, let him out into the backyard, and then called Drayton to give him the bad news.
Drayton was beyond shocked. “Jamie? Our Jamie? Hit by a car? Who could have done this?” he sputtered.
“Jamie didn’t see the driver, but he said it was a dark car,” Theodosia said. “Blue or black.”
“A dark car in a dark alley. That’s not exactly a stellar ID job.”
“I’m only telling you what Jamie told me,” Theodosia said.
“I know, I know, but it’s very upsetting. I mean, the driver broke his leg!”
“Tell me about it. You should have seen Jamie’s face as he tried to bite back the pain.”
“Now I feel even worse, since I’m the one who asked him to take out the trash. Oh, Theo, I should have been there,” Drayton said. “I should have stayed later.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Theodosia said. “None of us could.”
Drayton was silent for a moment, and then he said, “But maybe we should have been a lot more careful.”
“What are you getting at, Drayton?” Theodosia figured Drayton was circling toward the same conclusion she’d been tossing around, but she wanted to hear it from him.
“Do you think this might be related to the Lanier murder?” Drayton asked.
“Drayton . . .” Now Theodosia hesitated. “I think it almost has to be. Only I still can’t figure out who on earth is trying to stop us.”
“The killer, maybe? I mean . . . did the driver of that car think it was you out there in the alley? Or me?”
Theodosia took a deep breath. “I think that’s a very real possibility.”
“That means we’re all in danger,” Drayton said. He sounded both scared and flummoxed. “What do you think we should do?”
“We need to put our heads together and figure this out,” Theodosia said. “But for the time being, like right now . . . we need to watch our backs.”
After Theodosia hung up—once again warning Drayton to take care and lock his doors—she gulped down a small carton of yogurt and then changed into her workout clothes. She figured her bike shorts and black nylon running jacket with the red stripe down the arms would be perfect.
And even though her heart wasn’t in it, she had promised to meet Alexis at Metro Spin Cycle tonight. And she didn’t want to let down her friend.
* * *
• • •
Located on Cumberland, in an old storefront, Metro Spin Cycle was sandwiched between Fenwick’s Eatery and the Millbrook Art Gallery. As Theodosia waited on the sidewalk, a number of cyclists walked by her. They were all geared up in Lycra and nylon bike shorts and sweatshirts, looking anxious to jump on a bike and pump away to some hot tunes.
She wished she felt as enthusiastic as they looked. But the notio
n that someone—Lanier’s killer?—might be out to destroy her loomed like a dark specter. Who could it be? she wondered. Bob Garver or Sissy Lanier? Possibly Jud Harker, who seemed to be keeping an awfully low profile, or even Betty Bates? Whoever it was, they were dangerous beyond belief. They’d killed once and they’d probably do it again to protect themselves.
Theodosia didn’t relish any kind of rendezvous with this crazed bogeyman. Especially since they were more than capable of shooting a silent, deadly arrow.
Theodosia shifted from one foot to the other. The night sky was low and dark as clouds swirled overhead and the weather grew progressively cooler. She stared down the block into darkness that was faintly lit by only a few orange gas lamps, watching for any sign of Alexis. She saw no one. Turning around to peer in the front window of Metro Spin Cycle, she saw, through a partially open door, several people already warming up on their stationary bikes. Then music suddenly blared, driving and loud, with an almost eighties heavy metal edge to it.
Where is Alexis?
Five minutes later, Theodosia was still waiting. The music was pouring out of the building in waves now, the backbeat practically rattling the front windows, the instructor’s voice pumped up and booming, urging everyone to stand up and pedal faster. To yearn for the burn.
Figuring that Alexis had forgotten all about her, Theodosia was about to give up and go home when she heard a faint cry. A discordant note, riding high on the wind. She twisted her head left, saw nothing, then scanned right. From far down the block she saw a small, lone figure lift a hand and wave at her.
Finally.
Theodosia waved back. Well, no harm done, she decided. If they joined the class ten minutes late, that was ten minutes knocked off a killer bike ride, right?
But wait—Alexis was still coming toward her, and she was limping slightly. Managing a kind of stutter step.
Was something wrong? Had something happened?
Theodosia frowned as she stepped out to meet her friend.
“Theodosia,” Alexis gasped as she drew closer. Her voice was shrill and ragged, tears dribbled down her cheeks. Not only that, Alexis’s clothes were in complete disarray, and one side of her face was all smudged.
“Oh my goodness, what happened?” Theodosia cried.
Alexis stumbled up to Theodosia and practically collapsed in her arms.
“Somebody tried to grab me,” Alexis cried. Her chin quivered and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “They lunged out of the shadows and tried to hurt me!”
22
“You poor thing,” Theodosia said. Alexis was shivering like a Chihuahua left out in a snowstorm. “But are you hurt? Did they physically injure you?”
Alexis shook her head as she swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “I fought back like crazy and punched him,” she said. “Pummeled him, really. Then I fell down on the sidewalk and scraped my arm, but I managed to kick at him and get away.”
“Where did this happen, exactly?”
“Um . . .” Alexis struggled to catch her breath between hiccups. “About two blocks back. I was just bopping along, looking forward to our class. And then this guy . . .”
“Was it a guy?” Theodosia asked urgently. “You’re sure of that?”
Alexis nodded. “I think so. But it was really dark. Whoever it was popped out of the bushes where that little pocket park is. Next to Kingston Lane Antiques.”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, I was so scared I didn’t really look all that carefully. My throat closed up tight, so all I could do was make these stupid squeaky screams, but I was flailing away like crazy, trying to make every blow count. When I finally started running, I headed in this direction because I didn’t know what else to do. I felt so scared and confused . . . I still do. And I knew I was supposed to meet you here.”
“Did you get any kind of look at him?” Or her?
Alexis shook her head. “Not really. It was so dark and shadowy, and whoever it was wore a big coat with the collar turned way up.”
“Who do you think it could have been?” Theodosia asked.
“I don’t know!” Alexis wailed. She was gripping her injured arm as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Just calm down and try to think.”
“I’m trying,” Alexis said. “I really am.”
Theodosia backed off. “Okay, honey, I know you are. We’ll let it go for now.”
Theodosia put an arm around Alexis and led her inside Metro Spin Cycle. She sat her down in a blue plastic tub chair in the small lobby. “Just sit still for a minute,” Theodosia said. “Let me get you something to drink.” Theodosia went to a vending machine, fumbled two dollars in, and grabbed a sports drink when it tumbled out. She carried it back to Alexis and handed it to her.
“Here, drink this,” Theodosia said.
Alexis shook her head. “I’d rather not.”
“It’s a sports drink with sugar in it. It’ll help knock back the adrenaline that’s zapping through your veins. Make you feel better. Calmer.”
“Okay.” Alexis gave a jittery nod. “Thanks.”
Alexis took a couple of gulps, then had another small sip. Little by little, she started to calm down. At least she stopped shaking.
Theodosia’s brain was on another tilt-a-whirl ride. What was going on? First Jamie and now Alexis. Was she to blame? Had someone thought that Alexis was her walking down the street? Maybe so. They were both dressed in similar sport clothes. Dear Lord, did that mean that someone had been spying on her these past few days?
“Tha-thank you,” Alexis said. She was still gulping down her drink, but she seemed calmer. More like herself.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Theodosia said. She pulled her phone from her bag and said, “I’m going to call the police. I hope you don’t mind.”
Wide-eyed, Alexis stared at her. “Okay,” she whispered. “I suppose that’s best.”
So Theodosia got back on the phone and called Detective Pete Riley.
“Are you serious?” he said when she got him on the line. “Another assault? You’re like a danger magnet, you know that?”
“Don’t put the blame on me,” Theodosia said. “It’s this guy. Whoever this guy is.”
“And you’re where?”
Theodosia gave Riley the address for Metro Spin Cycle.
“Okay, I’m sending a unit over there right away. Tell them everything you just told me. In fact, have your friend tell them as much as she can remember. I’d come myself, but something else just popped.”
“Something to do with Jud Harker or Bob Garver?” Theodosia asked.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Okay,” Theodosia said. “I’ll keep a lookout for that unit. And thank you. Thank you for being there.”
“Of course,” he said, and then clicked off.
“My friend, Detective Riley, is sending a patrol car over,” Theodosia said to Alexis. “We’ll have to give a report.”
“Sure,” Alexis said. Then, “Is Detective Riley the cute guy you brought to my gallery the other night?”
“That’s the one.”
“Must be nice to know someone well-connected in law enforcement. Must make you feel safe, I guess.”
“Sometimes,” Theodosia said.
Five minutes later a black-and-white squad car rolled to a stop and two uniformed officers got out. Theodosia met them at the door and thanked them for coming. Then they all gathered around Alexis.
Alexis went through her story again. And Theodosia was happy to see that she was able to fill in a few more details this time around. The officers were very solicitous, questioning her gently, then writing their initial report. When they’d scratched out their notes, they had Alexis read them over and then sign the report for them.
“We’d be happy to give you a ride home, ma’am,�
�� one of the officers offered.
“That’s okay,” Theodosia said. “I’m parked right here, I can take her home.”
“Thank you,” Alexis whispered.
They waved good-bye as the police car rolled away, then Theodosia turned to Alexis and said, “I have to tell you something.”
Alexis’s brows puckered together. “What? Why do you have a funny look on your face? Is something wrong?”
“You remember that fellow Jamie, who works at my tea shop?”
“The kid who came to pick up the statues and fans and things,” Alexis said. “For your Plum Blossom Tea.”
“That’s right.”
So Theodosia took a deep breath and spilled the beans about Jamie getting mowed down by a car in the alley and ending up in the ER.
“And that just happened tonight?” Alexis looked terrified.
“A couple of hours ago.”
“Theo, you’re not serious!” Alexis was beyond shocked.
“I’m afraid I am.”
“What’s going on? Am I in danger, too?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know. At least I don’t think so.”
Alexis put a hand to her neck and touched it carefully, as if she expected to feel a hangman’s noose drop at any moment. “Maybe I shouldn’t go home tonight. Maybe I should, I don’t know, go to a hotel or something.”
“Just lock your doors and I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Theodosia said.
“But your friend, Detective Riley, he’s on top of this? I mean, Jamie’s accident and my assault?” Alexis took a couple of deep gulps. “I can’t believe I’m even using that word. Assault.” She shook her head, looking slightly dazed. “But why would . . . ?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” Theodosia said. “But it could all be tied to Carson Lanier’s murder.”
Alexis continued to stare at her, almost in disbelief. “The guy who got shot on the roof the other night?”
“That’s right.”
“How is it tied in? Why is it tied in?”
“I’ve been doing a favor for Timothy Neville,” Theodosia said. “Some investigating. On the side.” She tried to make it sound peripheral at best.