by B. J Daniels
Anna waited until she heard the nurse talking to someone down the hallway before she snapped on the lamp again, opened her palm and looked down at the note in her hand.
It had something to do Tyler’s death. It had to. The cryptic quote from the Bible. Tyler’s name. The urgent way Gillian had taken down the information and on a scrap of envelope? That wasn’t like Gillian.
Anna knew that Gillian had been searching for the hit-and-run driver for eight long months. But Anna also knew that she’d come up empty. Marc had said it was useless and that continuing the search was only self-indulgent, wallowing in the pain of Tyler’s death. Any evidence was long gone.
But Anna knew Gillian. Her friend would never have stopped looking. What if Gillian had found out something? It would explain why Anna had been on that road last night. Why Anna had inquired about where to find the police station.
The only thing it didn’t explain was where Gillian was.
Picking up the phone, Anna dialed her friend’s cell phone number again, praying Gillian would answer. She didn’t, making Anna more anxious. Even if Gillian didn’t have service wherever she was, she always checked her messages routinely.
Anna had left a message on both Gillian’s home phone and her cell. Regardless of where she was, Gillian would have checked her messages by now and called. Especially since Anna had left a message saying it was urgent.
Her worry growing further, Anna stared at the scrap of envelope and the words written on it. Impulsively, she tried the numbers across the top.
A phone rang. It had been a phone number. The line continued to ring and ring. No answer. No voice mail.
After about fifteen rings, Anna hung up and dialed the operator. “I’ve been trying to reach this number. I was hoping you could help me.” She read it off to the operator. “Does that sound like a valid number?”
“Hold on.” The operator came back a few seconds later. “That’s a pay phone and probably why you’re not getting an answer.”
“Can you tell me where that pay phone is located?”
“Just a moment. That one is at a rest stop outside Shadow Lake,” the operator said.
“Thank you.” A pay phone at the rest stop.
Anna hung up and lay back against the pillows. It appeared either she or Gillian or both of them had been meeting someone named Fairbanks at the rest stop last night. Her head ached.
She picked up the phone again, dialed the operator and asked for a listing for Jim Fairbanks. Even though the senator was deceased, Anna doubted the family had thought to change the listing.
“I’m sorry, that number is unlisted.”
“Is there any other Fairbanks in the Shadow Lake area?”
“Yes, but they are also unlisted.”
Anna hung up, then on impulse picked up the phone and dialed Mary Ellen’s number. Gillian wouldn’t have left town without telling someone where she’d gone.
Anna frowned as she waited for her friend to pick up. Maybe that’s what her friends had been arguing about yesterday at lunch.
“Hello?” Mary Ellen said, picking up on the second ring.
“It’s Anna. I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“Anna. I’m so glad you called back. I feel so badly about earlier. I hope you don’t think I’m taking Marc’s side.”
Anna ignored that. “Have you heard from Gillian?”
“Why?” Suddenly her friend sounded wary again.
“I need to talk to her.”
“Did you try her office?”
“They said she was going to be out of town for a few days.”
“Well, then I guess that’s why you haven’t been able to reach her.”
Anna heard something in Mary Ellen’s voice. “Why are you angry with Gillian? Don’t deny it. I sensed something wrong at lunch yesterday.”
She realized now why she’d imagined that her friends were keeping things from her. They were.
She closed her eyes, rubbed her temple and blurted out, “I know something’s going on. I’ve felt it since I came out of the coma. I can’t shake this feeling that you know something, that you all are in on it, but you won’t tell me what it is. You’re supposed to be my friend.” She was close to tears. “Why aren’t you being honest with me?”
“I am your friend, honey.”
“Then be honest with me.”
Silence.
“What?” Anna demanded.
“I don’t know what you want me to say?” Mary Ellen sounded as upset as Anna.
“Where has Gillian gone?”
“I don’t know, Anna.”
“I don’t believe you. What are you two arguing about?”
“Marc,” Mary Ellen said.
Marc. Of course. “Tell me why he really changed his mind about the divorce.” The tears were flowing now and she choked on the words, her throat closing.
“I already told you. He wants to start over.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. Just a few days ago…” She couldn’t continue. She fought to stem the tears, regain control. “Marc had to have told you more than that.”
Silence on Mary Ellen’s end, then finally she answered, “He said he couldn’t abandon you now. That he was afraid of what you might do. That sometimes you get so angry, you become…violent. He was afraid you might hurt yourself.”
She sniffed and made an angry swipe at the tears. “Marc said that? But it isn’t true. Why would he even say something like that?”
Mary Ellen said nothing, and in the silence Anna realized her friend didn’t believe her.
“Have you ever seen me violent, Mary Ellen?” Anna demanded. “Suicidal?”
“No, but—”
“Marc told the police that I threatened to kill someone.”
“The police?”
“Yes, Mary Ellen, why would Marc do that?”
“Because he’s afraid for you.”
Anna shook her head, regretting this call. “You’ve never liked Marc and frankly, the feeling was always mutual. Why are you defending him now?”
There was an icy edge to Mary Ellen’s voice that Anna had never heard before. “It’s true, I’ve never been wild about Marc. I always thought he felt he was better than me. But I got to know him when you were in the coma. He was alone with his grief all those months after Tyler’s death. He thought you were gone too, Anna.”
Still, that didn’t explain why Marc would go to Mary Ellen, and Anna said as much.
“Marc just needed someone to talk to. He was worried because he didn’t know where you went last night after he told you the news. I was worried, too. I still am.”
Anna sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess I just don’t understand why, if you knew he was so worried about me, you didn’t tell him I was on the line when I called.”
“Anna, honey, you’re my friend. I knew you were angry with Marc and needed to calm down before you talked to him again. I wasn’t going to rat you out. So I pretended it wasn’t you on the phone. I didn’t tell him anything.”
“What was there to tell him?”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m just upset.”
“I’m upset, too. But you know why I didn’t tell him you were on the phone. After he told me how you reacted…”
Reacted to the news he hadn’t divorced her? Why would she need time to calm down before she talked to Marc again?
“I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to him,” Mary Ellen continued. “I’m sure that’s one reason Gillian left for a few days. They both wanted to give you some time to calm down before they tried to talk to you about it.”
Talk to her about what?
Mary Ellen was crying now. “You’ve lost so much. I don’t want you to lose Marc, too. He said you told him that you hate him. I don’t believe that, although I couldn’t blame you if you did right now. And I don’t blame you for threatening to kill them both. All I said was for you to let him know you’re okay.”
Anna felt panic
rise inside her. “Mary Ellen, what are you talking about?”
“What Marc told you last night. About the affair he had with Gillian. Anna? Are you sure you’re all right?”
IN THE VERY BACK OF THE freezer, Dr. Brubaker found a casserole his wife had made before her death.
He took off the lid, pleased that it was only a little freezer burned. He put it in the microwave to thaw, not even sure what the dish was. Not that he cared.
He had ended up eating little of the burrito he’d nuked earlier at the hospital and now he felt weak. He had to remind himself to eat something, he thought, thinking of Anna Collins back at the hospital. She would need an ally, especially since Walker was determined she was hiding something.
The microwave dinged. He hit Reheat and waited, standing by the counter in the quiet kitchen, thinking about Gladys and the hours they used to spend in here, visiting while they cooked or did the dishes. God, how he missed her.
He’d only taken a couple of bites of the casserole when his beeper went off.
“Doctor, there’s a patient down here to see you.” Elle sounded a little strange. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s Mrs. Nash.”
“Lucinda?” A stupid question. There was no other Mrs. Nash in Shadow Lake. At least not living. Rob’s mother was over at the graveyard.
What had thrown him was that Rob’s wife had never been his patient. Probably because she’d never needed a doctor before.
“She seems upset,” Elle said, whispering now. “Could you hurry?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Brubaker had been as shocked as anyone when Police Chief Rob Nash had run off to Vegas with the new waitress at the Lakeside Café. Because the town was so small, Brubaker had seen the young woman around.
Lucinda had seemed shy. Or scared. Maybe both. Was that what Rob had seen in her, what had made him start drinking coffee every morning at the Lakeside instead of the Coffee Cup where he’d been a regular for years?
It had raised a lot of eyebrows when Rob and Lucinda announced that they’d eloped to Vegas. The age difference aside, some said it was too quick. Rob hadn’t known the girl more than a few weeks.
There’d been bets going around that the marriage wouldn’t last a month. A lot of people had lost that bet since it had been almost three months now.
As Brubaker stepped into the examining room, he saw Lucinda standing by the window. She had a balled-up tissue in her hand and was biting down hard on her lower lip, as if she thought that would stem the tide of tears streaming down her face.
She quickly brushed at the tears, turning away to blow her nose.
“I’m Dr. Brubaker,” he said, closing the examining room door. He noticed there was nothing about what was bothering her on the patient file he’d picked up from Elle, so he had no clue what this was about. Apparently Lucinda hadn’t wanted to tell Elle.
“Why don’t we sit down.” He pulled out a chair and sat. After a moment she turned to face him, looking embarrassed and scared.
“I can’t sit. I’m too worried.” She studied him as if making up her mind about something. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“I’d like to help, Lucinda,” he said quietly. “Your visit, as you know, is confidential. Whatever is said in this room stays here.”
She took a ragged breath and bit her lower lip again.
He said nothing, waiting, knowing better than to push. She was scared. He could see that. And obviously in some kind of trouble.
She burst into tears. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose the baby.”
He tried not to look shocked. “How far along are you?”
She shook her head and wiped again at her eyes. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so scared.”
“What makes you think you’re losing the baby?”
“I’m bleeding a little.”
“Okay,” he said, getting up from the chair. “First off, let’s not panic, okay? I want you to put on this gown and I’ll take a look and see how things are going, all right?”
She nodded.
“Have you seen a doctor about the pregnancy yet?”
She shook her head and gave him a wan smile. “I didn’t want to jinx it.”
He wanted to ask if she would be more comfortable with her husband here, but decided to wait until he knew her condition. “I’m going to step out of the room for a moment.” He handed her a gown and explained how to put it on. “You change and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He stepped out into the hall. He could see Elle down at the nurses’ station looking in this direction. Normally when he did a pelvic he had a nurse in the room. But it was clear that, for whatever reason, Lucinda Nash didn’t want the nurse to know about her pregnancy.
He waved to Elle that everything was fine. She smiled and mouthed, Sorry. Sorry for calling him down if everything was fine.
He hoped that was the case.
He tapped at the door.
From the other side of the door, Lucinda said, “Come in.” She was sitting on the exam table, nervously shredding several tissues in her fingers.
“Try to relax,” he said as he approached her.
ANNA FELT AS IF SHE’D BEEN hit by a bolt of lightning. A direct hit to her heart, the pain so intense it was blinding.
She slumped against the pillows, her arm holding the phone dropping to the bed. She could hear Mary Ellen’s voice, but it was unintelligible with the phone so far from her ear.
Marc and Gillian. No. Anna hadn’t noticed if Marc and Gillian had gotten any closer from the months she’d been in the coma. In fact, they seemed more antagonistic. Had that just been an act?
She thought for a moment that she was going to throw up, but the nausea passed and, with it, the initial shock.
She put the phone to her ear again as she was filled with a tidal wave of anger. “Gillian wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. Not to me.” For a moment Anna thought that Mary Ellen had hung up.
“Marc said she begged him not to tell you. I’m sure it only happened because they both believed they’d lost you when you didn’t come out of the coma for so long and were comforting each other.”
Anna squeezed her eyes shut. “Is that what Gillian told you?”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” Mary Ellen said, sounding mad. “But remember how she was acting yesterday at lunch?”
Anna remembered. Gillian had been distracted and had begged off early saying she had work to do.
“How long have you known?” Anna had to ask.
“Not long.”
Anna had trouble believing that. Her best friend was screwing her husband. Her second-best friend hadn’t told her. With friends like that…
“Marc said it’s been over for a couple of months now,” Mary Ellen said.
A couple of months. The same amount of time Anna had been out of the coma. She stared up at the ceiling, finally understanding the strange undercurrents she’d felt when she was around the three people closest to her.
“Are you sure you don’t know where Gillian is? I really need to talk to her.”
Mary Ellen let out a cry. “I can’t believe you want to talk to her. She can’t even face you, now that she’s heard you know. She isn’t answering her cell phone, right? Maybe you can forgive her, but I never will.”
“When did Gillian find out that I knew?” Anna asked.
“Marc said he went by her office yesterday afternoon to warn her before he went over to your place to tell you.”
Anna thought of the piece of envelope she’d found in her best coat pocket. She’d just gotten that coat back from the cleaner’s yesterday morning before lunch. That meant the note would have gone into her pocket sometime after that. Gillian had been at her house for lunch but hadn’t said anything. So it followed that it would have happened after that.
She’d heard that a shock rather than the bump on the head could cause memory loss. News of an affair between her husband and best friend definitely coul
d be why she had no memory of last night before the deer appeared in her headlights.
“It’s not like Gillian to go away and hide,” Anna said, realizing it was true. If what Mary Ellen was saying was true, then Gillian would have wanted to tell her herself—not let Marc do it.
Either way, Anna knew she must have crossed paths with Gillian later in the day. What bothered her was that she didn’t remember it. That and the fact that Gillian seemed to have disappeared.
“Mary Ellen, there’s something else I have to know,” Anna said. “Was Gillian looking for the hit-and-run driver who killed Tyler?”
A long sigh. “You know Gillian. She was determined to find the driver and bring him to justice, but as far as I know she hadn’t learned anything. Why?”
“I have to go,” Anna said.
“Wait, there’s something you should know,” Mary Ellen said. “Marc called earlier. He told me that you’d had another accident and were in the hospital in some town in the Cascades. He’s driving up there, Anna.”
“Why?” The word came out as a cry. Marc was the very last person on earth she wanted to see.
“He said that when he went by the house to see if you had returned, he realized that your gun, the one he made you buy when he moved out, is missing.”
Anna hung up and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the pain. Her gun was missing? At least according to Marc. That was the least of her worries right now, though. All she could think about was Gillian and Marc. An affair. It couldn’t be true. Not Gillian. Not her best friend in the world.
And now Marc was on his way to Shadow Lake? Might already be in town? She tried to imagine how things could get worse. Maybe they already had, since she had no idea where that stupid gun was. She’d put it in the drawer beside her bed as Marc had insisted and hadn’t seen it since.
She looked again at Tyler’s name printed so neatly next to Luke 2:12. She had to be right about this. Gillian had learned something about Tyler’s death.
One thing was clear: Anna could no longer lie here and wait for the other shoe to drop. Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The movement sent a wave of nausea over her. She gripped the bed for a moment until it passed, then tore the IV from her arm, stood and padded over to the closet.