Just a Breath Away

by Carlene Thompson

  ‘Kelsey, it’s important that you don’t move. You might have hurt your neck. But you have to look at me and let me know if you understand me.’ She wouldn’t look at him. ‘Kelsey, it’s Rick, please …’ After a moment, he clapped his hands close to her ear, startling her. She blinked several times as her mind cleared. She looked into a face – a face without wrinkles, a face with kindness and concern in the warm brown eyes, a face smiling at her reassuringly. He leaned close to her and said softly, ‘Kelsey, are you in pain?’ She didn’t answer. ‘Kelsey, you need to pull yourself together … for Lorelei.’

  ‘For Lori?’ Kelsey’s gaze moved downward to her sister’s eerily still face resting on her chest. ‘I want our dad.’ She looked at Rick and raised her voice. ‘I want Dad!’

  ‘Shhhhh, Kelsey. We’ll get your father, I promise, but you’re safe now. Do you understand? You’re safe.’

  ‘Lori’s hurt.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I couldn’t do anything …’

  Someone stooped beside Kelsey. ‘My name is Carol. I’m a nurse.’

  ‘Thank God,’ Rick muttered. ‘Please stay with us.’

  The woman had a warm, velvety voice. ‘I’ll take good care of her. I won’t leave you, dear.’

  ‘Carol?’ Kelsey felt as if her thoughts were slipping away from her. ‘Is that your name?’

  The woman nodded.

  ‘Please help my sister,’ Kelsey begged.

  ‘It’s best to wait for the ambulance. We shouldn’t move her. Are you hurt?’

  ‘I don’t know, but Lori’s hurt …’ Kelsey’s voice broke. ‘Can’t you do something?’

  ‘Help is on the way, honey. For now, you need to relax.’

  The woman rubbed her hands over Kelsey’s shoulders, as if to comfort her. Kelsey wanted to push her away, to make this kind person leave her and Lorelei alone, but she felt too tired and muddled to do anything. She lay still, clutching her sister, murmuring the poem Die Lorelei. Then slowly darkness descended, shutting out everything with a warm, loving embrace. Kelsey felt as if she was floating, floating …

  She flinched at the sudden shriek of sirens. Glaring alarm lights seemed to pierce into her brain. She squeezed her eyes shut. The police and an ambulance, she thought clearly. The first response team.

  The revolving lights were unbearably bright, and her eyelids couldn’t entirely shut out their glare. She began trembling. Carol held her shoulders firmly. ‘Are you doing OK?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I’m so cold. Lori’s so cold. Can you get us blankets?’

  ‘I don’t want to leave you. I’ll take off my sweater and put it over you.’

  ‘No. Lori’s bleeding. You’ll get blood on your sweater.’

  After a moment, the woman said sadly, ‘It doesn’t matter, dear. A little blood doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘Kelsey, I know you’re awake. Open your eyes.’ Kelsey felt a strong, warm hand holding hers. ‘Honey, open your eyes.’

  ‘Daddy?’ she asked groggily, keeping her eyes shut.

  ‘Yes, sweetheart.’

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘The hospital. You’re not badly hurt. You just bumped your head.’

  ‘Then why am I here?’

  ‘Do you remember what happened outside the bar?’

  She squeezed her eyes tighter. ‘I had a dream. A nightmare.’

  ‘No, Kelsey, you didn’t have a nightmare. You do remember, don’t you?’ She said nothing. ‘Kelsey?’ Nothing. Her father snapped, ‘Kelsey March, let “the Bad” in. What do you remember?’

  ‘There was a man! He said he liked the weather!’

  ‘That’s better,’ he said gently, stroking her arm. ‘When you were little, you called whatever scared you “the Bad.” You always closed your eyes when you wanted to keep “the Bad” away. But you’re an adult now and you must open your eyes and let the bad in. Please.’ Kelsey let her eyelids drift up and she saw her father’s haggard slender, handsome face. Love and relief washed through her.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ She felt a tear run down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb, smiling at her tenderly. ‘I was so afraid, Daddy.’

  ‘I know, honey, but you’re safe now.’

  ‘The police came. I remember the sirens. Did they get that man?’

  A pause. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  Another pause. ‘I’m sure.’

  Kelsey suddenly felt panicked. ‘You don’t sound sure, Daddy! You’re not telling the truth!’ She tried to sit up. She wanted to run. ‘They didn’t get him! He’s coming for me.’

  Her father grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘He can’t hurt you, Kelsey.’

  It’s useless, Kelsey thought. I can’t get away. Even Daddy won’t let me get away.

  ‘Listen to me, honey. You have to stop crying.’

  ‘I c-can’t.’

  ‘Kelsey, stop crying like a baby,’ her father said sternly. ‘You’re not a baby. You’re a grown woman.’

  Kelsey shuddered and swallowed hard. Someone wiped her face with a moist, cool cloth. She began shivering then felt another blanket placed over her. Tears flowed. Then they stopped, as if someone had flipped a switch. She ran the back of her hand over her face. At last she said, ‘I’m all right, Daddy. I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s all right, sweetie. I know you don’t want to remember what happened tonight, but you have to try. It’s important. Pretend you’re telling me about a movie. Movies haven’t scared you since you were a little girl.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Her head pounded. ‘OK.’

  ‘The man who said he liked the weather – did you know him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did Lori know him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you say anything to him?’

  ‘I said I liked the weather, too, but that we had to go …’

  ‘And then?’

  Kelsey’s gaze shifted to the ceiling as she tried to remember. ‘And … he said, “OK.” He sounded like he didn’t care.’ An image seared through her mind. ‘Then he raised his arm. He was holding a gun. I couldn’t move. He shot Lori. It happened so fast.’ Her voice broke. ‘Lori fell sideways in front of me. I grabbed her. There was another shot. She crashed against me and I fell. I was still holding her when I fell. I hit my head and everything seemed like it was far away, unreal. But I heard another shot. I think he missed …’ Her voice lifted hopefully. ‘I’m sure he missed! I thought Lori was dead, but maybe … Dad, where is she? Where’s Lori?’

  Her father’s gaze dropped. ‘She’s … gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ Kelsey heard her father swallow hard, struggling not to cry. ‘Dead? No!’

  ‘You’ve shut your eyes again, Kelsey. Open them.’ Her father stroked her face. ‘If you don’t open your eyes, honey, you’ll make me feel like I’ve lost you too.’

  She drew a breath and a desolate calm washed over her. ‘I knew Lori was dead,’ she said flatly. ‘I knew out on the street.’

  Her father’s face was only inches away. She looked into his light gray eyes. The swollen eyelids tipped with the long, intensely black lashes so many women envied, were wet. She felt his warm breath on her face and saw the deepened wrinkles around his mouth. To Kelsey, her vital father looked old and tired and hopeless. ‘Dad, it’s my fault.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ Her father lifted her up, holding her against the warmth of his chest. She caught the scent of soap on his cool, tanned skin. A long sob tore through her as she clutched him tighter. ‘It is not your fault, Kelsey. Never say that again.’ She reached up and touched a sore bump on the back of her head. ‘You have a concussion, but they tell me it’s not too bad. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, but not Lori!’

  ‘Don’t think about that now. Tell me about the day. What did you and Lori do today?’

  Kelsey replayed the day in her mind. ‘We shopped all afternoon. Then we took our stuff back to my loft and walked to the tavern.
It was only two blocks, and I thought walking would be safer than driving home.’ Kelsey burst into laughter with an edge of hysteria. ‘I didn’t want to drive after we’d been drinking because we might have had a fender-bender. So we walked and …’

  Her father still held her against him and rocked her gently. ‘Shhhh, baby. Shhhh. You couldn’t have known a man was stalking you.’

  ‘What? Stalking me?’

  ‘Or your sister.’

  ‘Lori didn’t say anything about a stalker.’

  ‘You don’t remember everything. Maybe she said something important that you’ve forgotten.’ Her father drew back and smiled. ‘You just need some prodding. The police want to talk to you.’

  ‘But I don’t want to talk to the police now, Dad. Please …’

  No one answered her. The doctor opened the door and murmured something. In a moment, an unfamiliar deep, smooth voice said, ‘Thank you, Doctor. Mr March? I’ve been hearing voices. I’m Detective Pike and I’d like to speak to your daughter.’

  ‘She’s injured and so upset …’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I have a job to do.’ The man’s rich voice conveyed sympathy, regret and determination at the same time. ‘The sooner we get this over with the better.’

  The doctor sighed. ‘Mr March, we should let the detective interview your daughter. Nurse Hiller will stay here in case Miss March needs anything.’

  Kelsey’s gaze met her father’s. ‘I’ll tell him what I remember. Then I want to go home with you, not to my loft.’

  Truman March’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You can come home for as long as you want. Forever—’

  ‘Mr March, I hate to seem unfeeling—’

  Her father looked up at the man standing just inside the door, some of the fire returning to his eyes. ‘All right. Just don’t drag this out longer than necessary. She’s been through a lot.’

  ‘Dad, please—’

  Please stay! Kelsey wanted to beg. Then she looked at her father’s devastated face. She couldn’t make him listen to the hurtful details he’d already heard. ‘I’ll be all right. I’ll see you in a few minutes.’

  ‘Sure.’ He managed a wink. ‘Love you, sweetheart.’

  After her father left the chilly room, Kelsey looked up at the tall, lanky man with piercing dark eyes beneath straight black eyebrows, a slightly arched nose, high cheekbones and narrow lips. His shiny black hair was combed straight back and he had a prominent widow’s peak. To Kelsey, he looked like a genteel figure who’d stepped from a nineteenth-century photograph. ‘How are you, Miss March? I’m so sorry for what happened tonight. So sorry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kelsey murmured.

  ‘I’m Detective Pike, ma’am. Detective Enzo Pike. That’s an unusual first name around here. My parents came from Florence, Italy, to New York when I was a baby. I was named for my paternal grandfather, who pronounced his first name “Ent-zo.”’

  ‘Like Enzo Ferrari.’

  Detective Pike raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘That’s right. If only my grandfather had started a car company like the famous Enzo!’ He’d put her slightly more at ease with the casual tone of his opening conversation. ‘I know it’s hard for you to answer questions, Miss March, but I need to hear what you remember now. Time has a way of altering the facts.’

  ‘Or making them clearer.’ Kelsey was still cold, but she’d stopped shivering. I have to be strong, she thought. I have to be strong for Lori. ‘The man who killed my sister – is he dead? Did the police kill him?’

  ‘He was shot and brought to the hospital. He wasn’t dead on arrival. He wasn’t declared dead until ten minutes ago.’

  So that’s why Dad sounded like he was dodging my questions earlier, Kelsey thought. The man was here and probably still breathing when I regained consciousness. ‘Who was he?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Me? No.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to offend you, Miss March. Please relax. This is not an interrogation.’ Their gazes held for a moment. Pike’s was benign, even sympathetic. But not quite sincere. ‘Here’s what we know right now.’ He looked down at his notebook. ‘His name was Vernon Nott,’ he said. ‘N-O-T-T. Is the name familiar?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He was thirty-three.’

  ‘He looked older.’

  Pike raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I just remembered. I saw him in the bar. He followed Lori to the jukebox and stood beside her, looking right at her. I didn’t see him very well then.’ She frowned, thinking. ‘I didn’t see him well out on the dark street either, but I noticed that his skin was wrinkled, so the wrinkles must have been fairly deep.’ She paused, trying to conjure a picture of him in her mind. ‘His hair was thin. He had a comb-over. It lifted when the breeze blew.’

  Pike smiled slightly.

  ‘And he had a high voice. When he first spoke, I thought he was young – a teenager. That probably doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Everything matters.’ Detective Pike wrote in his notebook before looking at Kelsey with his sharp, dark eyes. ‘Vernon Nott lived in a mobile home park on Davy Crockett Trail. That’s about eight miles from Conway’s Tavern with a lot of bars closer to him, but he was a regular at Conway’s.’ He paused. ‘I believe you go there often, Miss March.’

  ‘I go there a couple of times a week at lunchtime. I’ve been there maybe seven or eight times in the evening.’

  ‘The tavern has been open only eleven weeks and you’ve been there eight times at night?’

  His tone was bland but Kelsey felt defensive. ‘When I stop in during the evening, Detective, it’s usually with my friend and assistant, Eve Daley. We work at MG Interiors, just two blocks away from Conway’s. Sometimes we work late.’

  ‘I see. Only you don’t just work at MG Interiors, Miss March. You own it, isn’t that right?’

  ‘I co-own it with Stuart Girard.’

  ‘You own fifty-five percent. He only owns forty-five.’

  ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

  ‘That gives you the controlling interest. Is Mr Girard happy with that arrangement?’

  ‘What are you talking about, Detective Pike?’

  Pike remained silent.

  ‘Yes, Stuart is happy with that arrangement.’

  ‘To the best of your knowledge.’

  ‘Well, yes … But what—’

  ‘Your business is very close to the bar. Also, you live in a loft above MG Interiors. That makes it convenient for you to visit Conway’s Tavern during the evening. What nights do you usually go to the tavern?’

  ‘I don’t go on any particular nights.’

  ‘Not on Tuesdays or Thursdays, for instance?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been there on a Tuesday and maybe a couple of Thursdays.’

  ‘Yet you don’t remember this man who frequents the bar on those nights every week?’

  Kelsey’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, I don’t remember him. Maybe you should ask Eve Daley. Or Stuart Girard. He’s gone with us a couple of times. They might have sharper vision or better memories than I do.’

  ‘Who are your other employees and their duties?’

  ‘Nina Evans and Giles Miller are designers. Our business manager is Isaac Baum.’

  ‘Do they accompany you and Miss Daley and Mr Girard to Conway’s?’

  ‘Nina and Giles have come with either Eve or me for lunch. I know Nina has gone for lunch several times by herself. Isaac usually brings a sandwich from home.’

  ‘Does Isaac have money problems?’

  ‘He has four children.’

  ‘Oh, four. Well. Do Isaac, Nina and Giles come with you at night?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You don’t invite them to come along?’

  ‘I’ve invited them to come with us in the evenings but Isaac wants to get home to his wife and kids. Nina is pregnant and usually tired by evening, and Giles has an invalid mother. Her home healthcare worker leaves at six o’clock.’

  Pike stared at her,
and Kelsey was suddenly irritated.

  ‘They’ve never come with Eve, Stuart and me, but I can’t say none of them has ever gone to Conway’s at night without the rest of the MG Interiors workforce. I don’t cross-examine them about their activities away from the store, Detective. Why don’t you ask them?’

  Pike smiled regretfully. ‘I’ve annoyed you. I’m sorry, Miss March. These are just standard questions.’

  ‘They don’t sound “just standard.” Maybe it’s your tone of voice.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Or maybe you’re being too sensitive.’

  ‘Sensitive?’ Kelsey’s voice rose. ‘Yes, I’m very sensitive after my sister was just shot dead in front of me!’

  The nurse stepped forward. ‘I think that’s enough for now.’

  ‘I just have another question or two for her and then we’ll be finished,’ Pike said softly. ‘Is that all right, Miss March? It’s important to find out how this happened to your sister.’

  Kelsey gave him a hard look. The words he didn’t say were If you don’t answer, you’re not helping the police learn the truth about Lorelei’s murder.

  ‘I can go on for a few minutes,’ she told the nurse.

  ‘Thank you, Miss March.’ The detective frowned, two deep vertical lines appearing between his thick eyebrows. ‘Did your sister ever mention having a stalker?’

  ‘No. Do you know she had a stalker?’

  ‘Once again, it’s a standard question, especially when the crime involves a young female celebrity. Was there anyone special in her life? A boyfriend?’

  Kelsey hesitated. ‘She didn’t have a boyfriend.’

  ‘A beautiful girl like Lorelei March didn’t have even one romantic interest?’

  ‘Maybe she had casual dates, but no one she mentioned to me.’

  Pike cocked his head. ‘But there was someone special to her?’

  Either he knows I’m lying or he’s guessing, Kelsey thought. I’m not saying anything about … What was his name? She couldn’t remember anything about him except that he was married.

  ‘Lorelei was busy. Devoted to her career. She didn’t talk about dating anyone. Right now I can’t even remember the names of her close friends in New York. I wish I could say more, but—’