by Karen Fenech
Before this could turn into a family drama, Ryan said, “Becky who?”
Without taking his eyes from his son, Victor said, “Thompson.”
Victor recited an address that Galbraith noted. Ryan nodded to Galbraith to contact Becky Thompson, then Ryan said to Cal, “You’d better hope she confirms that.”
But Ryan didn’t believe that Cal Willis had been the one in that parking lot with Faith last night. Still, needing to be certain, he kept at Cal. Ryan got nothing of any use from him and left the interview room, going next door to speak with Kevin Anders and both of his parents.
Anders was built much as Cal Willis. Anders claimed he had been at his part-time job flipping burgers until ten o’clock last night. Ryan would verify that with Anders’s employer. Ryan put Anders through the paces as he had with Cal Willis. In the end, however, Ryan didn’t think either Willis or Anders were Faith’s attacker.
Galbraith called Ryan as he was leaving the interview with Kevin Anders.
“Took some doing to get the girl to speak up and her parents were not happy about it when she did,” Galbraith said. “From the sound of things, we’ve got a Romeo and Juliet thing going on with the parents feuding over the sale of a car that turned out to be a lemon. Both sets of parents are adamant about keeping their kids apart. But the girl confirmed that she was with Willis last night. They were parked out on Blue Hollow Ridge until eleven o’clock.”
Blue Hollow Ridge was known as a local makeout spot. “Okay, Frank. Thanks.”
Ryan ended the call then made another. It took a matter of minutes to confirm Anders’s alibi with the night manager at the restaurant. They were no closer to finding Faith’s attacker. Ryan blew out a frustrated breath.
Galbraith was coming in the door as Willis, Anders, and their parents were leaving the station. Ryan called out to Galbraith. It was time to start on Faith’s list.
* * *
As the judge left the courtroom, Faith’s hand was grasped tight by her client Andrea Brown.
Andrea’s face crumpled and she wiped tears from her eyes. “Thank you, Miss Winston. Thank you.”
Faith returned Andrea’s tight clasp. “Be safe, Andrea.”
Andrea nodded, her black corkscrew curls bobbing around her pretty face. Faith watched her go down the aisle to the door. Andrea turned back and, her eyes filling with tears again, gave Faith a small fist pump. Faith returned the gesture, then Andrea was gone.
The courtroom cleared quickly until it was just Faith and her police escort, Officer Birch, remaining. Ryan had been right. Faith should have stayed home, but today of all days she could not be out sick.
Faith had been defending Andrea Brown in, ironically, an assault case. Andrea, who had been battered over and over in her two-year marriage, had finally taken a stand and struck out at her husband who’d made her life a living hell. Her husband had alleged that Andrea had used excessive force in defending herself against him. Andrea had managed to wrest the knife her husband had threatened her with away from him and when he’d come at her, she’d had no choice but to use it on him to defend herself, stabbing him in the shoulder. Andrea’s husband had brought charges against her.
Faith had been gratified to hear the judge rule in Andrea’s favor. Andrea had told Faith that from the courthouse, she was on her way to see a divorce lawyer.
“Back to your office, Miss Winston?” Birch asked.
The Brown case had been the most pressing. Faith felt as bad as she looked. Everything else could wait until tomorrow. She swung the briefcase off the table and turned to Birch. “I’m calling it a day and going home.”
Not long after, Birch pulled into Faith’s driveway. She let herself into the house. Nothing was different. The house was as still as it always was, quiet, but Faith was never more aware of the quiet and the stillness than in this moment.
Tell me how you are. How you’ve been. Ryan had asked at the hospital. Her heart had pounded at the question. She’d summoned all of her resources to keep the truth from showing in her eyes as the last year had played over in her mind like clips from a movie. Those first months without Ryan, taking every breath brought pain. Next came a sadness that went soul-deep. And now?
Tell me how you are. How you’ve been.
Lonely without you. Empty without you. Incomplete without you.
She pressed her hands to her now wet eyes and when tears leaked from beneath her palms, went into the kitchen, and replaced her hands with fists full of tissues.
She didn’t know how long she stood against the wall in the kitchen, sobbing when she heard a knock, then Dee calling out to her. Faith drew a shaky breath, disposed of the soggy tissues and took a clean cloth from the kitchen drawer to mop her face before going to the door.
Dee went still, taking in Faith’s battered appearance and no doubt tear-swollen eyes, then she enveloped Faith in a tight embrace. When Dee pulled away, her eyes were damp too.
Still cupping Faith’s shoulders, Dee launched a barrage of words in Spanish, switching to English at the end. “I went to the courthouse but you’d already left. Why didn’t you call me?”
Faith knew Dee’s gruff manner was an attempt to keep herself from breaking down. Faith reached up to clasp Dee’s hands where they clutched Faith’s shoulders. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”
Dee’s stern expression faltered. “I could have taken care of you.”
Faith hugged Dee again.
Dee cleared her throat. “Have you eaten? I left the house so fast. I didn’t think to bring food. Do you have anything around here that resembles real food? Something substantive?” Dee marched into Faith’s kitchen. “Never mind. I’ll look for myself. I’m going to make you a good meal, run you a hot bath. Warm water will do wonders for the pain. Then I’ll tuck you in bed where you’re going to sleep until tomorrow morning.”
Sleeping until the next morning sounded like heaven to Faith. She wanted to turn off, calm her racing thoughts that were filled with Ryan.
She followed Dee into the kitchen. By the time Faith got there at her snail’s pace, Dee was already banging pots and pans together and muttering under her breath at the rabbit food she’d found in Faith’s refrigerator.
“I saw the cop car parked at the curb when I was pulling in. He asked me for ID. It’s good you have protection.” Dee poured a can of soup into a pot, added milk, then cracked a couple of eggs into the pot and stirred. “Ryan is so worried about you.”
Faith was in the process of carefully lowering herself on to one of the padded chairs at the kitchen table and stopped. “You spoke with Ryan?”
Dee raised an eyebrow. “Good thing or I wouldn’t have known about what happened to you. Ryan will lock up the ones who did this.” Dee stuck her chin out and nodded once firmly.
Faith sighed. “I wasn’t much help. I didn’t see the man who attacked me.”
“Tommy told Ryan who hurt you.”
“Tommy?”
Dee nodded briskly. “The fight he was in? It was with two boys, remember? Those boys were students of Mrs. Fahey. They threatened you. Tommy told Ryan.”
“Tommy’s fight was over me? Oh, Dee.” Faith bent her head and shook it slowly. “Tommy needs to stay out of this. He could get hurt.”
“Hector and I told him no more fighting. If anything else happens to come and tell us right away and we’ll report it to Ryan. But we couldn’t punish Tommy for taking up for you. We defend the people we love.”
Faith raised her head. “Dee, this is serious. This is more than a bloody nose in the school yard.”
“I know that but we can’t stand by and let evil take over our world because we are afraid. I don’t want to raise my boy and my girls to be afraid.”
A few moments later, Dee plopped a steaming bowl of soup and half a package of whole wheat crackers on a plate in front of Faith. Dee frowned as she poured a glass of skim milk and set that down in front of Faith as well.
“I would have sliced some nice thick bread inste
ad of crackers,” Dee said. “Something that would stick to your bones.” She shot Faith a look. “If you had any bread. These skinny little crackers were the only thing I could find.” Dee shook her head and made a sound of disgust that came from deep in her throat. “I’m going to run you that bath now.”
Dee strode out, her steps pounding on the stairs. Faith downed a few spoonfuls but could eat no more and placed the spoon on the table.
Dee returned to the kitchen. Her gaze went to the soup. She touched Faith’s shoulder and said softly, “Tub’s filled. Let’s get you into it.” Dee wound her arm around Faith then helped her to her feet. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I told Hector I was spending the night.” Dee brought Faith close for another tight hug. Dee sniffed back tears. “Let’s get you well again.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryan’s cell phone rang. He opened one eye and narrowed it on the lit numbers of the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:04 A.M. Faith? Since her attack, even knowing she was protected, Ryan’s stomach knotted every time his phone rang. He snatched up the cell. Caller ID showed Milt Lofton, the police chief in Hanover, a small neighboring county. “Crosby.”
“Ryan, I need your help.”
Ryan rubbed his chin, his overnight growth of beard rasping in the quiet. “What’s going on?”
“A passenger train derailed here out on Claridge Road. It’s bad.”
Ryan pulled on jeans he’d left on a chair by his bed. “On my way.”
He disconnected then immediately called the station. As he grabbed a fresh shirt, he gave the order to dispatch officers and emergency response teams to the site of the derailment.
When he arrived at the scene, he saw bad was an understatement. A slow drizzle was falling, making the wet ground muddy and slick. Clouds obscured the moon and wide beam lights had been set up to illuminate the surroundings.
Lightning had struck a tree and it had fallen across the tracks, blocking the train’s path. The railway cars had jumped the tracks and fallen over the edge of the road. The train was now on its side on the embankment below. Men and women, cops and civilians, pulled the injured and the dead from the cars. Ryan saw that the steep slope and precarious footing made the process painfully slow going.
The delay in obtaining medical care for the injured increased because Hanover County didn’t have a full-service hospital. Ambulances sped away from the scene, transporting the injured to the closest facility, Wade County General.
They didn’t have time to waste. Ryan went down the embankment.
* * *
Hours later, Ryan left the site of the derailment. It was raining harder now. The slow drizzle had become a downpour. The injured had been transported. The dead had been removed. An investigation into the cause of the derailment would be launched but it wasn’t Ryan’s jurisdiction. With nothing more he could do here, he let Lofton know that he was leaving then signaled to his men and women that they were done. As his people made their way from the scene to their own vehicles, Ryan did the same.
The clock on the dash read after nine in the morning. He went home for a shower and a change of clothes then made his way to the station. He headed straight for the break room and poured a cup of black coffee. Thick as sludge, but Ryan sucked it back anyway. He was pouring a second cup when Galbraith joined him. He had spent the night at the station and his eyes were heavy-lidded.
“Just got word. Gaines escaped from the hospital,” Galbraith said, his expression grim.
“Say again?” Ryan demanded.
Galbraith nodded. “With the emergency from the train derailment, the ER at Wade General was a mess. Gaines was being moved out of ICU to make room for the new arrivals. Somehow in the move, he wasn’t cuffed to his bed. In the confusion and mass of people, it looks like he got up and walked away. I sent backup. Our people are all over the place. We have the hospital on lockdown. Every floor and room is being searched.”
Ryan didn’t think Gaines would be found at the hospital. “Issue an alert. Go wide. Set up a perimeter. Five miles out in all directions. I want road blocks at all entries to the interstate. Check all vehicles leaving Wade. Get a canvass going. The hospital and the surrounding area.”
“On it.”
“Call District Attorney Irwin and Judge Houghton and let them know about Gaines. Tell them we’re sending squad cars. A uniform will remain with them until we’ve apprehended Gaines.”
Galbraith nodded.
Ryan’s gut clenched. He would call Faith himself but said to Galbraith, “Get in touch with the uniform assigned to Faith and tell him to be on high alert.”
“Right away,” Galbraith said.
As Galbraith went to do that, Ryan abandoned his coffee and left the break room as well. Gaines had surgery on Monday, four days earlier. That might slow him down but maybe not by much. Ryan recalled Gaines’s doctor saying the surgery hadn’t been major.
Timothy Fahey was still in lock up. For the first time since Ryan had taken Fahey in, Ryan was glad to have Fahey in custody. Fahey would be safe from Gaines should Gaines decide to go after Fahey for shooting him.
If the media hadn’t already learned of Gaines’s escape, they soon would. While Wade’s citizens needed to know about Gaines, Ryan didn’t want a panic or for people to take it onto themselves to hunt Gaines. They needed to find Gaines fast.
From his desk Galbraith called out, “The mayor’s office just called. They’re getting ready to schedule a press conference about Gaines’s escape. Mayor Dawson wants you to give her a call.”
The call to the mayor would wait. Ryan called Faith.
* * *
Faith’s car was still considered a crime scene. She hadn’t rented a replacement since she was being escorted everywhere by Birch or another officer. Her car would be cleared in the next couple of days and Faith hoped her attacker would be in custody by then.
Before she went into work, Birch took her to the police station to give her description of her assailant to one of their artists. She’d had nothing worthwhile to offer and it was a frustrating waste of time.
From the police station, Faith asked Birch to stop at the dry cleaners. She hadn’t given Ryan back his suit jacket that he’d put on her after James’s shooting. Blood stained the front. Faith left the jacket to be cleaned, then with Birch in tow, returned to the squad car. The chatty Birch told Faith about his many siblings and the antics of his dog, Bill.
She picked up her briefcase from the footwell and got out of the car. The rain had stopped but the wind had picked up. Faith huddled deeper into her overcoat and turned up the collar as she crossed the parking lot and entered the building.
“Miss Winston?”
Faith knew the man who’d spoken. Scott Logan. He was the executive director of the shelter where James had spent several nights and where Sharon Fahey had volunteered. Logan had not been employed by the shelter when Faith had stayed there with her family. She had met Logan during an open house to raise funds for the shelter.
Faith came to a stop in front of the man. “Mr. Logan, hello.”
“May I have a word with you?”
“What about?”
Logan’s overcoat was unbuttoned. He was fashionably dressed in business casual attire that included a smart blazer that accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waistline. He was balding on top but with tawny hair that fell to his shoulders like a lion’s mane.
“It’s about James Gaines,” Logan said. “It’s important.”
Faith walked down the hall with Logan on one side of her and Birch on the other. She’d concealed the bruising on her neck, that had changed color to a deep purple, with a turtleneck, but her body was still protesting the beating she’d taken and her back clenched with every step. Her steps were more measured than she would have liked and she saw that Logan noticed.
Light blue eyes narrowed, he assessed her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Allow me to assist you.”
&
nbsp; “That isn’t necessary.”
Inside the public defender’s office, one of the other lawyers she shared cubicle space with glanced up from his phone conversation and nodded to her. Another was tapping his computer screen. Passing her own cubicle, Faith led Logan to the closest of two conference rooms. She flicked on the light switch. Birch took up a position against the outside wall and Faith closed the door.
She indicated the long table and without removing her coat or offering to take Logan’s, sat in one of the black leather chairs. Logan claimed the opposite seat.
She clasped her hands on the table top that needed dusting. “Mr. Logan, you said you had something important to speak with me about regarding James Gaines?”
“Yes. I’m here to offer to be a character witness for James.”
Faith had not expected anyone to offer to speak on James’s behalf. “How well do you know Mr. Gaines?”
“Actually, quite well. He spent a considerable amount of time at the shelter. We spoke often.”
“What did you speak about?”
“Funds are always tight at the shelter and though I consider myself skilled at repairs, James wanted to do something as repayment for his bed and food. It seemed important to him to contribute and well,” Logan gave a small smile that bared uneven teeth, “I wasn’t about to turn down help of any kind. In addition to being short of money, the shelter is also always in need of more volunteers.”
“So, Mr. Gaines fixed things around the place?”
“Yes, repairs and routine maintenance. He also changed light bulbs, emptied trash cans, wiped down desks. I could go on and will speak to his character in the courtroom.”
Faith studied Logan. “Are you aware that Mr. Gaines has entered a not guilty plea in Mrs. Fahey’s murder?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Logan released a slow breath. “I have no doubt that James killed Sharon.”
Faith’s cell phone rang. Ignoring it, she pinned Logan with a look. “Believing that, why would you speak up for him?”