Kate told me Foster had tied Aunt Caroline to a dining room chair, and the chair had fallen over when she struggled-and I could certainly picture her struggling. She’d been through the wringer forward and backward today.
Aunt Caroline’s first words to us were, “What took you two so long? No one’s told me anything, and it’s given me a giant headache.”
I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to hear her being her usual cranky self. Kate and I explained where we’d been and that Jeff would be okay. I kept a careful eye on my watch during this conversation, anxious for the time when I could get into ICU to see him.
When we were finished explaining, Aunt Caroline said, “Kate, I hope you understand why I had this man investigated. I didn’t like him from the minute I set eyes on him and my instincts were correct.”
“Um, can we save the gloating for later? You’ve both been through hell today.” I glanced at Kate, but she seemed to have cut off any emotion. Her face was impassive.
Aunt Caroline said, “It’s not gloating; it’s… it’s…”
She’s at a loss for words? Don’t tell me she might be having a small epiphany?
“Abby’s right, and I’m sorry, Kate,” she went on. “You were very brave and very calm, and I drew strength from you today.”
Kate said, “Thank you. And I’m sorry I put you in harm’s way.”
Aunt Caroline reached out a hand, and Kate took it. “I love my girls very much. Love them enough to get involved in their lives. Now. As for that very excellent young man, Terry, you have foolishly abandoned. I think-”
“Not now,” I said firmly. Jeez, I felt like my aunt’s conscience.
I glanced again at my watch. I hated to leave Kate here to take a verbal beating, but I wanted to see Jeff.
Kate noticed I was fidgety and said, “Go. Then come back and let us know how Jeff is.”
I kissed Aunt Caroline on the cheek, and this seemed to ease her out of her snit. Her meddling had proven useful for once, and I should be grateful. Or maybe I simply loved her despite her flaws. After all, I had a few of those myself.
As I left, I heard Kate say, “Have they given you anything for your headache?” I knew my sister would keep herself occupied playing nurse, and that Aunt Caroline would milk Kate for every ounce of sympathy she could get.
Minutes later I arrived at the double doors to ICU. The unit lay beyond a door marked,
DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION. PRESS BUZZER FOR ASSISTANCE.
I followed instructions, and a female voice came over a small speaker above the door, asking if she could help me.
“Has Jeff Kline arrived from the recovery room yet?”
“The police officer?”
“Yes.”
“And your name?”
I told her, and she said, “He’s been asking for you. Please wait there.”
A few minutes passed before a man in scrubs came to the door. “Abby Rose?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sergeant Kline’s nurse, Joey. Come with me.”
We passed a long counter with a bank of monitors for each room. I immediately spotted Jeff on one of the screens. He seemed small lying there with tubes coming out from him like tentacles. My stomach tightened at the sight.
The door to his room was filled with so much equipment, they must have been checking every cell in his body. Blood hung from an IV pole attached to the bed, and its dark red tubing snaked down and over Jeff’s body, led to his forearm and disappeared under adhesive tape.
Joey said, “His chest tube is on the left side. Please come around to the right.”
Even though the nurse spoke softly, Jeff’s eyes opened, and he tried to smile when he saw me.
“You look wonderfully… fuzzy.” His fuzzy came with about ten Zs.
Hearing his voice made the knot in my gut begin to unwind. I wanted to touch him, but I feared I’d knock something loose. His mouth seemed safe and splendid territory, and I planted a kiss on his lips.
“Did you meet Abby, Joey? Abby is soooooo hot.” He moved his head back and forth-the only part of his body he probably could move-and said, “Hot, hot, hot.”
“Yeah, we met,” Joey said. “I’d say you are one lucky dude.”
“You got that right.” Jeff closed his eyes, smiling.
I kinda liked Jeff on drugs. They should have passed around morphine in that conference room so the rest of us could have been as mellow as he was right now.
“They say you’ll be fine,” I said.
He didn’t open his eyes. “Was there any doubt?”
“No,” I said quickly.
He looked at me. “You still have my weapon? I know I let you borrow it, but I will need that back.”
“I don’t think I need your gun anymore. I guess I can return it.”
“Come closer. I need to tell you something.” He was grinning like a friendly wolf.
I put my ear near his mouth.
He whispered, “You better still need my other gun.”
Yup. Jeff was gonna be just fine.
28
I left Jeff about five minutes later, after DeShay arrived to take my place, and started for the stairs back to Aunt Caroline’s room. I checked my watch. Eight o’clock. I hoped I could get an officer to take Kate and me home. We could pick up Subway sandwiches, then get some rest. Though I wanted to stay here in case anything unexpected happened to Jeff, I didn’t want to leave Kate by herself. Not tonight. I’d already given Joey all my phone numbers, and he said he would pass them on to the night nurse and notify me if Jeff’s condition changed. But Joey assured me that everything seemed to be going well. Jeff was a fit man with a strong will.
I reached the stairs, and when I opened the door I nearly shouted out in surprise. Paul Kravitz was leaning against the wall in the stairwell.
“Sorry, Abby. Didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice seemed to bounce off the walls. “How’s your friend?”
“He’s… okay. He’ll recover completely.” I had to admit Kravitz was smart. I should have known he’d find me.
“Good. Even our bad guy will be okay. They patched him up and transferred him to the police station-what do they call it? Travis? Took him there for interrogation.”
“Really? Thanks for telling me.” I swallowed, met Kravitz’s stare. “I’m sorry about the man who worked for you. Really sorry. What was his name?”
“Cooper. Bill Cooper. The police say he probably never knew what hit him.”
“I-I still feel terrible.”
“Why? Foster’s the one who killed him.” Kravitz sat on the stair closest to him.
“Thanks for trying to let me off the hook, but he’s still dead, and I still feel awful.”
“I’m not letting you off the hook. I think you owe me an interview, Abby. Can we talk about that?” He patted the concrete next to him.
Maybe I did owe him, but the last thing I wanted was to show my face on a TV show that millions watched. I sat beside him, hoping a conversation would be enough.
“Stu videoed the whole thing today, the shooting, everything,” Kravitz said, “but the police took the tape. I want it back. You have strong connections to them. Maybe you can accomplish what I couldn’t.”
“The chief of police told me to cooperate with you and Venture, said you’d bring good publicity to the city. I’m not sure I understand why they’re withholding the video.”
“They say they need it to prosecute Foster. That it’s evidence,” he said.
“Their best evidence. But they can copy it for you. I’ll see what I can do.”
Kravitz nodded. “Thanks.”
I was puzzled. “If they’re asking me to cooperate with you, why won’t they?”
“You want my guess? Because you took that guy out, not them. And what’s on the tape is not what they want the world to see.”
I turned to look at his profile, again amazed at how old he looked in contrast to what we saw on TV. “I’m wondering if this is the story you want to tell. That SWAT didn’t arrive until a few minutes after I shot Foster? That HPD was late to the game?”