Well that worried us all. He saw it on our faces, so hurried to add, “Violet should not be in a coma at all. Her wounds have healed. There is no sign of lesions or lasting trauma to the brain, no swelling, no injury to the brain stem… I cannot explain why she is still in a coma.”
“Was the other hospital giving her something to keep her in one?” asked Doreen.
“I can’t imagine why they would be, and there’s no record of it in her file.”
“Well… what does this mean, then?” asked Mr. O’Neill.
Dr. Reeves sighed, and removing a small square of fabric from his pocket, he slowly cleaned the lenses of his eyeglasses.
“Continue to spend as much time with her as you are able,” said Dr. Reeves. “Talk to her. Read to her. Maybe Violet… just isn’t ready to wake up. I can find no medical reason why she hasn’t.”
“That’s… good, right? Is that a good thing?” asked Mrs. O’Neill anxiously.
“It is on the one hand, very good to know that she sustained no lasting injury. On the other… it is baffling that she isn’t already awake. If you will excuse me, I’ve another patient I must attend to. As I said, continue doing what you are. I’ll be by again later today and answer any questions you may have, as I am able.”
“Thank you doctor,” said Mr. O’Neill.
“Thanks doctor,” said Miles, and Dr. Reeves went on his way.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill looked at each other in confusion, and then at us.
“I don’t understand,” said Mrs. O’Neill helplessly.
“It means when Violet is ready, she’ll wake up,” I dared to say. It was the truth, I knew that, so… I said it.
“Why would she not… be ready?” asked Mr. O’Neill, utterly perplexed.
“Someone tried to kill her,” said Doreen. “Maybe she’ll wake up when we figure out who.”
“Well we know who,” said Mr. O’Neill shortly.
“If you did, then she’d be awake,” said Doreen.
She said it, not me. She’s eleven, by the way.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill blinked. I’m sure that’s all the response they could think to give.
“Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill…” said Miles reluctantly, brushing his hand through his hair. “We’ve been investigating. We know who the eyewitness is, and we know for a fact that Spence did not try to harm Violet in any way.”
Too many feelings to bother trying to identify, fought for position on the O’Neill’s faces.
“We have resources most people don’t,” I said, to add validity to Miles’ words. It was after all, true. “The person who claims Spence hurt Violet, is lying. We’re going to prove it. In the meantime, realize that Spence loves your daughter, and… she loves him. Having hard feelings toward him isn’t going to help her recover.”
They blinked again, and Mrs. O’Neill pressed her hands to her forehead.
“You know this—for fact?” asked Mr. O’Neill intensely, looking back and forth between Miles and me.
“Yes. It is the absolute truth.” My gaze was as unwavering as Miles’.
Mr. O’Neill finally nodded.
“I don’t know what you know… but you know something. I can’t believe people who’ve helped Violet this much and done so much good for others, would start lying to us now…”
Mr. O’Neill looked at Mrs. O’Neill, and she nodded.
“Then consider reaching out to Spence,” I said. “If he could see Violet… it wouldn’t hurt, and might help a great deal. It will certainly help him. He’s been falsely accused of assaulting the girl he loves and is facing arrest for it, he has no way to know how she is, and believes you hate him. So… call him.”
I was getting as pushy as my sister.
Mr. O’Neill wasn’t used to being told what to do, but after a moment he nodded.
“Alright. We’ll do that. Today.”
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s what all of you need.”
We spoke with the O’Neills for a few more minutes, then promising to keep them updated on our investigation, we said goodbye.
As we walked through the lobby I spied something, and paused. Since I was holding Miles’ hand he paused too, then so did Doreen. I looked up at Miles.
“I’m surprised you didn’t think of this sooner,” he smiled.
“I didn’t even notice until now,” I said, leading the way to the gift shop. “Come on, Doreen. Let’s send Violet some flowers.”
“All right!” she said enthusiastically.
We picked out an arrangement. Doreen added a stuffed bear, chocolate, some magazines, and… I quit paying attention after that. She made sure they would be comfortable when visiting Violet, that’s for sure.
We arranged for the shop to deliver the flowers and other items to Violet’s room, then continued on to the parking lot and our SUV.
“Oh my gosh, that was sooo much fun!” said Doreen. “Is this what you do all the time, just spend as much as you want?”
I laughed, then thought about the question a little harder.
“I guess actually that’s true.”
Miles gave me a surprised look.
“I’m not sure how that can be the truth,” he said. “I have to frequently remind you that if you want something, you can have it.”
“That’s just it. I don’t need more to be happy. I don’t need much to be happy. Just you, and I’ve got you, so… I could spend nothing, and still spend as much as I wanted.”
Miles’ look was melting. In the background I heard Doreen groan and beat on the door of the vehicle, as she reached it. Miles pressed the unlock button on his keychain without so much as a glance in that direction, and as I slowly melted, he kissed me.
Chapter 22
Miles opened the door to our suite, and we stepped inside. I set my purse on the entryway table and opened the coat closet, reaching for a hanger as I glanced at Violet. She sat perfectly still, her luminous eyes closed, but she didn’t appear to be asleep. More like she was… meditating, or something.
“Wonder what she’s doing?” I said quietly. I put my coat away, then handed Doreen a hanger as Miles hung up his.
“No idea,” he said.
“Hey, Violet,” said Doreen, bouncing into the chair next to her. “What are you doing?”
Violet opened one eye and glanced at her.
“Shh. I’m listening.”
She closed both eyes and faced straight ahead again.
Miles and I looked at each other and wondered.
Doreen watched Violet, a puzzled frown on her face.
“What are you listening to?”
“My mom. Shhh. She’s reading, and I want to hear.”
“Oh, wow,” I said quietly, a few tears coming to my eyes.
Miles put his arms around me and said softly, “Do you suppose if I dropped the force field, she would come out of the coma?”
Violet shot a luminous glare in our direction.
“No, and hush! I am trying to listen to my mom!”
I led Miles into the family room, and Doreen followed. The door closed behind us.
“I wish we could tell Mrs. O’Neill that Violet can hear her,” I said, as Miles and I sat on a couch, and Doreen perched on a chair.
“Why not just bring them here?” wondered Doreen.
Miles and I stared at her.
“What?” she asked, looking behind her. “What are you staring at?”
“I… cannot see that going well,” I said, and looked at Miles. He shook his head.
“I can’t either. Violet said at one point that she needs to know who killed her. Obviously she was confused, as she often has been. No one killed her, she isn’t dead. But the agreement she’s made now, is that she’ll try to wake up if we find out who tried to kill her. Whether she’s confused or whether she isn’t, that’s what she says she needs in order to be free.”
“We’ll get to the truth,” I said, then held up a hand to stop Doreen from interrupting. “If we are unable to find the tru
th, then we will tell the O’Neills, and bring Violet to them.”
“But it won’t come to that. We will learn the truth,” said Miles. “The O’Neills are better off waiting a little longer for Violet to return to them healthy and whole. These people have been through enough already, they don’t need to see their daughter this way. Not unless we rule out that there’s an alternative.”
“Okay, fine,” said Doreen. “So what are we going to do then? Violet’s busy listening, we can’t talk to her. We already had lunch. So what’re we going to do?”
Miles glanced at me.
“First, I’m removing the force field. If Violet doesn’t want to leave she doesn’t have to. But if she changes her mind, she should have that opportunity whether I’m here or not.”
“Okay,” I said. “I doubt she’ll leave, but you’re right. So what else?”
“Let’s spend the afternoon getting a few things done around here. Let’s have a look at the fitness center, and see how it’s coming along. We haven’t had a chance to see our new windows, yet.”
“Oh, I’d love to see the tower landing!” I said. “They’ve likely made a lot of progress since we saw it last. We need to get everything moved out of the tower, too. I can’t believe I haven’t done that yet.”
Miles laughed.
“We haven’t even been here a week, dear. Cut yourself some slack.”
“It’s hard to remember that, I feel like we’ve been here much, much longer,” I said.
“I don’t,” said Doreen. “I just got here.”
“Speaking of which, let’s call Mom soon, and see how Grandma is.”
“Anxious to get rid of me?” she pouted very convincingly, aside from the gleam in her eyes.
“On the contrary, you’ve proven quite helpful,” I decided to admit.
“I have?” she perked up.
“You have,” agreed Miles. “You thought of things we didn’t, and dared to ask questions we wouldn’t, and you got the answers to those questions, too.”
She looked pleased.
“So. Shall we go?” asked Miles.
“Let’s do,” I said.
We walked quietly through the sitting room. Violet was as still as stone, eyes closed, listening with rapt attention.
We continued on to the elevator and down to the next floor, then followed the hall toward the stairs.
“It’s so quiet in here,” whispered Doreen.
“Yeah, this is the perfect place for Violet to listen to her mom read,” I whispered back.
“Right, because that wouldn’t scare our guests at all,” said Miles, and Doreen and I burst out laughing.
“I forget other people can see her!” I said.
We reached the stairs and climbed, stopping to have a look at the square room that surrounded the landing.
“I like the carpet on the stairs,” I commented.
“They did a nice job on the walls too,” said Miles, running his hand along the smooth plaster where before, there was a large crack.
I examined the space and envisioned where the counter and sink would go, and how many little tables would comfortably fit in the rest of the room.
“I thought the floor would need refinishing, but it looks great now,” I said.
“Molly was right, all it needed was to be cleaned and polished,” Miles said. “We need the electrician to put in some outlets. Are you happy with the light fixtures?”
“I am. I won’t make any changes there, but tomorrow morning I’ll call and have the outlets put in.” I walked around the space once more. I was very happy with what had been done so far.
“Are we finished yet?” asked my obviously bored sister.
“Yeah. For now,” I said.
We followed the stairs to the tower room. The bolt on the door above us clicked, and then the door swung open.
“Did—did you do that?” Doreen stuttered, looking at Miles.
“Yes,” he answered. “I take it you weren’t expecting that?”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“He usually opens the door of the suite the same way,” I point out, as we reached the top of the stairs and stepped out into the tower. “He opens and closes doors inside the suite, too.”
“Yeah, but—well I just was not expecting it. Oh my gosh, what is that?”
Doreen stared at the doll.
“It’s a doll,” I said.
“It has teeth,” said Miles.
As she stared, a disturbed look on her face, its head slowly turned her direction.
Doreen jumped, but bit back a scream and glared at Miles. She was shaking.
“That better be you, or I am so out of here!” she said in a strangled voice.
“Same here!” I said, clutching his arm and looking around his shoulder at the doll, who better not be looking back! Oh my goodness!
“Yes, it was me,” he said, managing for his own safety and well-being not to laugh at our reactions. He did smile though. “I wonder if Xander is as brave as you two.”
That thought went a long way toward making us forget how he just scared the living daylights out of us.
“Oh my goodness, he wouldn’t be able to tease John about screaming when he saw Violet anymore!” I laughed.
Doreen was laughing too.
“You should totally do that! Only make it scarier. Do it at night, and like have the bulb explode first, then when he turns on a flashlight or something, make a rustling sound in the corner and when he looks—make the doll look back!”
“Wow, you’ve really thought this through,” I said, impressed.
“I’m with you, aside from the exploding bulb part,” said Miles.
“Oh my goodness,” I said, jumping up and down in my excitement at the brilliant ideas flooding my brain.
“What, Fidget?” Miles smiled, and I swatted at him.
“Quit calling me that! John should bring Xander up here. All we’ve got to do is put up a webcam. Don’t we still have some? I know we do. Then you won’t even be in here! Oh my goodness, maybe we should rethink this. We might lose our fitness guy!”
“John will definitely want to be in on this,” Miles smiled.
“Why a webcam?” gasped Doreen, laughing almost too hard to be understood. “Are you going to post it on YouTube?”
“No, we’re not that cruel!” I laughed. “Miles needs to see what he’s doing, though.”
Miles’ cell phone buzzed, and we managed to curb our laughter.
“It’s our PI,” said Miles. “Hi Jackson, what’ve you got? I’m putting you on speakerphone, by the way.”
As Miles did so, the door in the floor swung shut and the bolt latched.
“Hello, Mr. Bannerman. Yes, I spoke to my source about the investigation as you requested. Until an eyewitness came forward, the investigator was leaning toward the conclusion that Violet jumped intentionally. Perhaps on a dare, but attempted suicide was the most likely motivator.”
“Really! So… tell me about that.”
“She fell from a balcony on the second floor of the house. No one’s been able to determine why she was there. She was wearing a jacket under her costume. According to Spence Daniels, she went to retrieve the jacket and they planned then to leave together. That explains why she was on the second floor of the house, when the party was confined downstairs. She went out on the balcony, and shoeprints indicate she stood on a chair and then the rail. The table had a print too, though it and those on the rail were smudged. There’s been no reasonable explanation found for why she would do this unless she intended to jump. That’s the conclusion the lead investigator was leaning toward. There was no alcohol and no drugs in her system. She’s from a lower income family and had to delay college as a result, which could be contributing factors in depression. Then the eye witness came forward. She claims Spence Daniels and Violet O’Neill got into an argument, that became violent.”
“It doesn’t seem the forensic evidence would back that up,” I said. “Are there signs of a str
uggle? There’d have to be bruises at least.”
“There was significant bruising due to the fall itself, but not all of the bruises are attributable to that.”
“What isn’t attributable?” asked Miles.
“Bruising to the right shin and calf, according to my source. With a witness claiming to have seen Violet forced over, the investigator is going over the evidence again with that in mind.”
“But what about the shoeprints? Those don’t make sense,” I pointed out. “Not if she was forced over. Where are his shoeprints, for one thing? And I can’t imagine him able to get her up in a chair and on the rail… she’d have to cooperate in her own attempted murder.”
“The witness’s account of the fight fits the prints.”
“Well that’s hard to imagine,” I couldn’t help saying.
“If you wish I can email you the eyewitness account,” said Jackson.
“No, that’s fine,” I said. “It’s enough to know that it jives.”
“It’ll be in my final report, if you change your mind.”
“Okay. Thanks, Jackson,” said Miles. “Is that it?”
“That’s all, Mr. Bannerman.”
Miles thanked our PI for the information, and ended the call.
“The investigator doesn’t know about the cat,” I said.
“Did she just fall, then?” wondered Doreen.
“She said someone grabbed the other end of the table and tilted it,” reminded Miles. “That would explain the bruising on her leg.”
“Don’t forget the laughter, too,” I reminded her. “I’d like to know how Gina knew about the prints on the chair, table and rail. I can’t believe that information would be published.”
“It wasn’t,” said Doreen.
We looked at each other. Miles put into words what we were all thinking.
“Then if Gina knew Violet climbed into the chair, onto the table, and then the rail, when she gave the investigator her account… she did witness what happened that night.”
“So either she witnessed someone else try to murder Violet,” I finished for him, “or she attempted to murder Violet herself.”
“We’ve got to talk to Gina,” said Doreen decisively.
“And you’ve got to hear what she has to say,” said Miles, looking at me, and I nodded.
The Lodge at Whispering Pines Page 31