"I'm so sorry, J.B.," she murmured. "I'd like more than anything to help." Her gaze drifted from the IV tubing taped to her left arm to the bag dripping above her. "But I'm sort of tied up at the moment." She sighed in resignation.
"Hi." Kate walked in carrying a gift bag with a rose print. Muted pink tissue hid whatever she carried inside. "How are you feeling? And don't say with your hands."
Helen smiled despite her rotten mood. "Better. I'm at the point where I think I'm going to live, but I'm not sure I want to."
"The doctor says he wants you to try clear liquids this morning. If you're able to keep those down you can go home." She set the bag on the bedside stand. "I brought you some things to cheer you up."
"That's sweet, but the only thing that will cheer me is to have J.B. back and find whoever is responsible for whatever happened to him and Isabelle and Chuck."
"You're in no condition to do any such thing. Jason and Adam and a lot of other people are doing their best to find J.B. You, my dear mother, need to take your own advice and let go. God can handle this better than we can. He knows what He's doing."
"Yes, I suppose He does." How often Kate's words had been her own. She'd always believed that when you came to the end of your own abilities, when you simply could not facilitate a change or find an answer, the only solution was to let go and let God. She'd even asked Kate, who did calligraphy among her other talents, to create a watercolor, weaving in the words "Maturity is the art of living in peace with that which we cannot change." So easy to say, so hard to do. Talking faith and living it were often two entirely different things, and she was still in the process of learning the art.
"You know how you say things happen for a reason. Some good will come of this. You wait and see."
Helen gave her daughter a halfhearted smile. "I hate it when you're right."
"Open your present." The light in Kate's eyes held a mischievous gleam.
Helen reached into the bag and retrieved a novel she'd been wanting to read, Earlene Fowler's latest quilt mystery. "Thank you. I suppose if I'm to be laid up, I may as well try to enjoy myself."
"There's more."
Helen dug through and found a cranberry-scented packet.
"The clerk said a lot of people use those for bookmarks. I thought that might be nice."
She put the packet to her nose and drew in a deep breath, savoring the scent of cranberries. Amazing how little things could lift one's spirits. There was a tape called Celtic Moments, a get-well card, and a box of her favorite chocolates. And a cloth angel wearing a country dress and straw curls for hair.
"This is all wonderful, darling. Thank you." Helen sank back on her pillow, her fingers grazing the silken angel wings.
"You're welcome. Now try to get some rest. You need to concentrate on getting well."
Helen mumbled an apology for being too tired to stay awake, then drifted off to sleep. Over the next few hours she dozed on and off and took sips of water, tea, and apple juice. Everything stayed down, and by lunch, she'd graduated to that famous cure-all, chicken noodle soup.
Emily, Dan, and Adam had come by at different times. No word yet on J.B. The Feds had assigned another agent to take the case. She took little solace in how quickly the world moved ahead to fill in the empty space a person left behind. She realized, too, that the agencies would only spend another day or so actively looking for J.B. Even federal agents like J.B. who'd given their entire lives to serve their country were expendable. Helen scolded herself once more for letting her thoughts drift into such negative waters. She needed to think positive.
The doctor stopped on his rounds and gave Helen the option of staying one more night or going home. Helen chose the latter. Not that it did much good. She'd need help leaving the hospital and was stuck there until someone came to pick her up. Kate had disappeared around lunchtime and still hadn't shown up at two. Helen was beginning to worry.
Kate finally arrived at two-thirty, face flushed and looking as excited as a new parent. "Mother, you are never going to believe this. I went to lunch at Shells' Place, and a couple of the nurses from here came in. They recognized me and I asked them to join me. Anyway, we got to talking, and they mentioned a patient who had come in a couple of days ago. They'd been trying to locate a family."
Helen's heart lurched. She clutched Kate's hand. "J.B.?"
Kate nodded.
"Is he. . . ?"
"He's okay. I just talked to the doctor." Kate looked away. "Mother he had a heart attack. A mild one. He must have fallen from the flybridge and hit his head. His jaw's broken too. He's been out of it since he came in. A fisherman picked him up Thursday afternoon when he saw the Hallie B drifting not far from where he was fishing.
"Anyway, this fisherman found him lying on the deck and managed to get him transferred to his boat. Figured the quickest route to get help for J.B. was to head downriver to the port of Chinook and have an ambulance meet him there and take him into Ilwaco. Mom, he's been here the whole time. One of the nurses said the man's decision probably saved J.B.'s life."
"Are you sure it's J.B.?"
"I'm sure. I just came from his room. He was admitted under the name of J. Woods."
Tears stung Helen's eyes. She tossed her covers aside. "I've got to go see him."
Kate helped her into a robe. Since Helen was still weak and unsteady, the nurse brought in a wheelchair.
Helen thought she'd break into a million pieces if anyone so much as touched her. She couldn't remember feeling so torn up inside since the authorities had come to tell her about Ian.
J.B. had had a heart attack. Unthinkable. But he was here. She uttered a dozen thank-yous to God on her way down the hall to the Intensive Care Unit. Kate opened the door to the room, then stopped. "I'd better see if it's okay for us to visit him."
Nothing could have prepared Helen for the sight of J.B. lying there. She'd always thought of her husband as invincible. Even over the last few days of not knowing, she hadn't allowed herself to imagine anything like this. Kate came back with a nurse, who stepped in front of Helen, blocking her view. "Oh, Mrs. Bradley. I'm so glad you're here."
"May I go in?"
"Of course, but I'd like to speak with you first."
The nurse closed the door and wheeled her a few feet down the hall. "I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. We tried to contact relatives, but we didn't have a phone number. There was no contact person in Mr. Woods' wallet, I mean Mr. Bradley. He's been agitated and in a great deal of pain. We've been sedating him. Today he's depressed. Won't talk to us. Won't even try to write us a note. We had no idea he was the missing FBI agent." She shrugged. "I'm so glad your daughter happened to be at the restaurant."
She could understand why they hadn't recognized him from the photo in the newspaper. The man-in the hospital bed bore little resemblance to her J.B. "He had a heart attack?" Helen still couldn't believe it. J.B. had always been so healthy.
"Yes. A mild one, which fortunately occurred on the front of the heart and resolved itself. His EKG alerted the doctors to a possible problem and they ran cardiac enzymes. The enzymes were slightly elevated when he came in, but they're back to normal now. Still, he's a very lucky man. If that mysterious fisherman hadn't come along. . . ."
"What do you mean, mysterious?" Helen interrupted.
"He popped back into his boat and disappeared right after he turned Mr. Bradley over to the EMTs. We have no idea who he is or where he came from." The nurse smiled. "Personally, I think he was an angel."
"An angel." Helen took a deep breath. She really didn't care whether the fisherman was an angel or a mere mortal at the moment. Nothing mattered except the fact that God had answered her prayers. "May I go in now?" Helen bit her lip. "On second thought, maybe I shouldn't. I've had the flu."
"We'll get you a mask. I have a feeling seeing you will do far more for him than anything we could do."
If she could rely on the monitor above his bed, J.B.'s heart shifted to a higher rhythm wh
en he saw her, but it soon settled into a steady, normal pace. "Mmm." He lifted his head and tried to speak, then sank back in frustration.
"He underwent surgery Friday afternoon. His jaw's been wired shut," the nurse explained. "He's still in a great deal of pain and has some swelling. This is the most alert he's been since surgery yesterday. We should have a pen and note pad in his bedside stand. Also, you'll find wire cutters by his bed. Those will go home with him when he's discharged. If he should happen to choke, the wires can be cut."
His blue Irish eyes no longer smiled. As always, though, they spoke volumes. Gazing into them, Helen read relief and love and frustration and fear. Helen brushed the dark hair from his forehead, wishing more than anything she could take the mask from her face and kiss him senseless.
The nurse opened the bedside stand and pulled out pen and paper. "I'm not sure he'll use it, but we can try."
Helen placed the pen in J.B.'s hand and held the pad at an angle.
Love you, he wrote, then dropped the pen and shifted his gaze to her.
"I love you too." She squeezed his hand and brought it to her lips. "It's going to be all right, darling. I know that now. God led me to you. Though why He felt I had to get sick to do it, I'll never know."
At J.B.'s questioning gaze, she added, "I got the flu. But if I hadn't we might not have found you for days."
His eyes held compassion for her.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Enough about me. We need to concentrate on getting you well and out of here."
He smiled, or tried to, then closed his eyes. Helen held tight to his hand and rested her head on the bed beside him. Now that she had found him, she had no intention of letting him out of her sight.
At Helen's request, Kate went back to the bed and breakfast to collect her essentials, the laptop and her notes, a few clothes, and her T-bird. Once she'd settled in, Helen suggested Kate go home to Portland. "It's time," she said. "I think they need you more than I do right now." Surprisingly Kate hadn't argued.
Over the next two days, Helen stayed in the hospital with J.B. She had him moved to a private room and had a recliner brought in for her. When she wasn't seeing to J.B.'s needs or talking with him, she worked on the guidebook and got out for some walks to gain back her strength. Though she hadn't forgotten about the investigation, she'd set it in the far corners of her mind. J.B. needed her, and at the moment nothing else mattered. Sometimes, though, when she least expected it while on a walk to the marina or just before sleep, she'd think about the murders and wonder who the killer was and if he or she would strike again.
Chapter Twenty One
You two don't have to fuss over me, J.B. wrote on his pad. I'm not an invalid.
Helen chuckled. "You're getting feisty. Must be feeling better."
I'd feel much better if I could get these wires out of my mouth.
"Be patient, darling." She kissed him on the forehead and sat on the arm of the chair where she could see the rest of his message more clearly. His words sent a flutter of warmth skittering through her.
"Me too. But the doctor says you need to wait awhile." Helen got up, walked over to the window, and stretched, ignoring the longing look in J.B.'s eyes and the desire in her own heart.
She watched a crane extend its long neck looking for food in the tidelands of Willapa Bay. It felt good to be out of the hospital and back at the Bayshore with Emily. She'd become like family in their short time together. She'd insisted on Helen and J.B. returning to the bed and breakfast, where they could both take care of him. The weekend had come and gone as had the six guests, so they had the place to themselves again.
"You need to finish the book," Emily had said. "And you'll need help with J.B." The scent of fresh savory stew and baking bread wafted out of the kitchen.
Helen turned back to J.B. "I'm going up to Oysterville tomorrow, and to Leadbetter Point State Park. Are you up to an outing?"
He shook his head and wrote, Need to get hold of Tom. Want to see how investigation is going.
Helen bit her lip. J.B. was off the case. Having had a heart attack, he was also out of a job permanently. No way would the Feds take him back now. He knew that as well as she did.
"Why? You've already typed up your final report." Which hadn't amounted to much. His talk with Scott Mandrel had been set up to feel Scott out. J.B. didn't think Scott was involved in any criminal activity. Dan and Adam disagreed, holding firm to the idea that if Mandrel was innocent, he wouldn't have run. Helen could understand why J.B. felt betrayed. The powers that be no longer wanted him or his opinions.
J.B. slapped the pad down on the floor.
"Being angry isn't going to help." Helen picked up the pad and set it on the coffee table.
Folding his arms, J.B. sank back into the chair. The agency had let him know before he even left the hospital that he'd been retired. Mandatory.
"Come with me tomorrow. We'll have a picnic on the beach, and if you're up to it we can walk."
J.B. closed his eyes. He'd lost weight, she noticed. Still handsome as ever but depressed. She wished there was something she could do to cheer him up.
"The guidebook is nearly done." She told him about the reservations they had at the lightkeeper's house at North Head. "We'll have a wonderful time there."
J.B. gave her a skeptical look.
"Dan's coming for dinner," Emily announced from the kitchen doorway. "We'd best set the dining-room table."
"I'll do that." Thankful for the interruption, Helen left J.B. pouting and took the china and silver from the rosewood hutch. Even though J.B. would be drinking his meal, Helen set a place for him.
A few minutes later they sat down to a dinner of stew, salad, and fresh bread. Dan told them that the autopsy of Chuck Frazier's body and examination of the boat indicated an explosive device had indeed been used and that it had probably been placed near the fuel tank. Chuck would have been killed instantly from the severe heat and force of the bomb. "It fits with what Steve Kendall told us."
"Did you determine whether Steve actually killed himself?" Helen tore a thick slice of bread in half and reached for the butter.
Dan nodded and slurped in a spoonful of the hot broth. "He was despondent. Probably figured he didn't have much to live for." *
The subject turned to less gruesome matters when Emily brought up the fishermen who hadn't gone to work for Scott after he bought them out. "They seemed like a couple of ne'er-do-wells."
"Who're you talking about, Auntie?"
"Jake Summers and Eddie Randolph."
Dan snorted. "You're too kind. Those two dope heads need directions to tie their shoelaces. If you think they're involved in any of this, you're way off base." Dan went on to tell them he'd run up against a brick wall trying to find out where the kids who started the dunes fire got their drugs for their party they'd had. No one was talking.
Halfway through dinner Dan got a call. "No kidding." He hesitated. "You're sure they're headed this way?" He glanced at his watch. "They should be here in about two hours. What do you say we surprise them with a little coming-home party?"
"You seem pretty pleased with yourself," Emily said when he hung up.
"That was an agent in Portland." His gaze slid to J.B., then back to his stew. "We got Mandrel. He landed at the Portland airport about an hour ago. I asked the Feds to keep an eye on him. Wanted to see where he'd go."
"And Shells?" Helen asked.
"She's with him."
"I'm certainly relieved to hear that," Helen said. "Tell me something, Dan. If Scott is a killer, as you seem to think and if he ran to avoid prosecution, why is he coming back?"
He shrugged. "Maybe Shells talked him into turning himself in."
"Do you know where they've been all this time?"
"Not yet." He pushed his chair back. "But I aim to find out. Hate to eat and run, Auntie, but I gotta go."
News spread fast, and by midmorning the following day, most of the Peninsula knew about Scott Mandrel's arrest. Th
e mystery over his and Shells' disappearance had been solved as well. They had eloped to Las Vegas to be married. At J.B.'s insistence, he and Helen drove to Ilwaco to find out firsthand what had happened.
Not certain where to find Shells, they went to the restaurant.
"Yeah. She's here." Gracie rolled her eyes. "Only Shells could work with her fiancé, excuse me, her husband just getting arrested. She's one tough lady." Gracie seated them at the only available window seat and poured coffee. "I'm sure she'd like to talk to you, but it may be a while before she can come out. Rusty's off today."
"He'll need a straw." Helen pointed at J.B.'s coffee. "He broke his jaw in a fall."
"Sure, no problem." She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I heard you'd been found, Mr. Bradley. And right here under our noses. Dan's never going to live that down."
"We all missed it. It took my getting sick to get us to the right place. But he's safe." Helen's gaze lingered on J.B.'s, letting him know how thankful she was. Gracie left to seat another couple, and Helen perused the menu.
They'd been seated less than three minutes when Shells joined them. "Mrs. Bradley." Shells nearly embraced her. "I'm so glad you're here. You must talk to Adam and Dan. Scott is innocent."
"I'm not sure there's anything we can do at this point." Helen paused to introduce J.B. "I have to admit, when I learned that you and Scott had left town and J.B. was missing, I thought for certain Scott and maybe even you were guilty."
"Do you really think I'd kill my own brother? Or marry the man who did? As I told you before, the real killer, or killers, set him up. Please don't give up on us." Shells' plea extended to J.B. as well. "If I knew what to do or what to look for I'd investigate this myself." Her shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated sigh. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Adam and Dan are behind all this."
Helen glanced at J.B. He wrote on his pad and handed it to her. Something to consider. They seemed eager to put Scott away.
Red Sky In Mourning: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 3) Page 16