Authors: Rebecca Forster
“Hey.”
Liz walked toward the bed where Archer lay, but she spoke to Hannah who was keeping vigil. Bathed in the soft glow of the light box that allowed the nurses to check vitals while their patient slept, Hannah looked ethereal and exhausted.
“Hi.” Hannah smiled as the older woman pulled up a chair next to her.
“Have they got him knocked out, or is he just sleeping?”
“Knocked out.” Hannah shrugged casually, but Liz saw beyond her pretense. The girl’s hands were tightly clasped, her eyes didn’t leave Archer’s face, and she leaned toward him, not away. Hannah said: “Thanks for calling and letting me know he was hurt.
“No problem. I thought he needed a friend,” Liz said. “Sorry I couldn’t pick you up.”
“It’s okay. Burt drove me down. He had to go back to the restaurant. He’s going to pick me up later.”
“I can take you home,” Liz said.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll wait for Burt. He’ll come back after he closes.”
“It’s only nine-thirty, and Burt doesn’t close up until two,” Liz reminded her.
“I don’t mind. I want to be here. He stayed with me when I needed him.”
Liz looked at Archer then back to Hannah. She got it. Burt and Archer were family; Liz was only cop. In a few hours she wouldn’t even be that.
“Did Hernandez get away?” Hannah asked.
“No, he’s here.” Before Liz finished Hannah all but bolted out of her chair.
“You’ve got him? He told you where Josie is?”
Liz caught her arm and Hannah tensed. “He’s in ICU, Hannah. We don’t even know if he’s going to make it. I’m really sorry.”
Hannah sank back onto her chair. Still beautiful, still young, she looked so tragic and vulnerable that Liz would have changed places with Archer just so Hannah would have someone to lean on.
“What if he dies?” Hannah asked, her voice so quiet Liz could barely hear it.
“Then he dies, and we keep going. We know there was a woman who visited him. We know there was a man who came with her. We know a small car was seen at the pier and at Erika Gardener’s place. I have phone numbers to check. We’ve got stuff going on. We do, Hannah.” Liz’s bottom lip disappeared under her top teeth. She bit hard hoping to squeeze out the right words, but Liz never had kids and never had much reason to talk to one unless they were stumbling out of Sharkeez drunk as skunks. Finally, she simply gave it her best shot. “I’m not going to give up. You shouldn’t either.”
There was nothing more to say so they kept their eyes on Archer who was as still as death. Occasionally, the silence was broken by a beep from one of the machines, the rumble of a cart being rolled down the hall, nurses speaking in hushed tones just outside the door. The two women didn’t notice. Each was lost in thought.
Hannah thought Archer looked old in the limp hospital gown. It had fallen off one shoulder and she could see the heart monitors. His hair was messed up, his big body pierced with IVs, his boxer’s face slack and his face pale. It was only three days ago he had found her in his apartment, two days ago when he had been so forceful and sure of himself. He took command of the search for Josie, he stood up for her in court, and he actually smiled when the judge ruled in their favor. Archer was the next best thing to Josie, and Hannah could do nothing for either of them.
“A lot of people say they’d throw themselves in front of a train for someone they love. I always thought that was a saying.”
“Josie’s lucky,” Liz muttered, surprised to find she didn’t begrudge Josie Archer’s affection any more. She tilted her head. “You know, he doesn’t look so bad considering he mixed it up with a train.”
“You haven’t seen the other side of his face,” Hannah joked, only to turn serious again. “Another second and they say he would have probably lost his leg.”
Liz nodded, but she wasn’t really thinking of Archer’s leg. She was thinking of that second Hannah mentioned. If Archer had jumped one second earlier he would have cleared the train. If he waited one more second, Hernandez would be free but easily tracked down. One second of hesitation would have left Archer on the right side of the train and Liz wouldn’t be facing review. A second and they would know where Josie Bates and Erika Gardener were right now.
One damn second. It didn’t seem fair to any of them. Still, what Archer had done was amazing and selfless and heroic. Whether Liz remained a detective or not didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. Whether Archer and Josie Bates and Erika Gardener survived, did. Still, one lousy second and Liz could have held on to what she had, too.
“Do you have someone to stay with tonight?” Liz asked.
Hannah shook her head. “No, but it’s cool. I’d rather just go home. Max is there. I’ll be near the phone. I’d rather be alone.”
“You got it.” Liz started to get up, but Hannah stopped her.
“The county is going to take me into custody if I don’t have someone to supervise me.”
“I know.” Liz put her hand on Hannah’s shoulder and patted it. Instead of shrugging her off, Hannah touched her. The girl’s fingers tapped gently.
“Maybe you could, you know, stay and make it look like you’re going to take care of me. I mean when they come, I could tell them that a detective is going to be responsible.”
Liz hesitated, wanting to say yes in the worst way. Instead, she slid her hand off Hannah’s shoulder.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I get it. It’s asking a lot,” Hannah said.
“It’s not that. It’s – work.” Liz couldn’t even bring herself to tell this girl she’d been disgraced. Once more, Liz Driscoll was letting someone down.
“You’re right. I’d rather have you looking for Josie. I wouldn’t care normally, it’s just that I know they won’t tell me when you find her,” Hannah said.
“I’ll try to run some interference.” The false promise was out of Liz’s mouth before she could stop it. Maybe she was just trying to convince herself that she’d find a way out of this mess. “Gotta go, Hannah. You hang in there.”
“Will you try to talk to Hernandez?”
“I’ll poke my head in, but I doubt either one of these guys will be doing much talking tonight. Get some rest.”
“You, too, Detective Driscoll,” Hannah answered, her eyes back on Archer.
There wasn’t anything left to say, so Liz left Hannah as she found her. It was only a few minutes later when a nurse came into the room. Hannah didn’t even notice her until she leaned close and whispered:
“What would you like me to do with his things?”
An Outbuilding in the California Mountains
“Help me. Let me see,” Erika hissed.
Excitedly, she motioned for Josie to help her. Afraid to make too much fuss, Josie balanced on one knee and planted her other foot solidly on the hard earth. She cupped her hands and nodded when she was ready. Erika put one foot into the saddle Josie created. There was a presumed count to three, and then Josie lifted Erika high enough to put her other foot on Josie’s knee, raised tall enough to see through the little hole in the wall.
Josie’s head fell back. Her arms and body shook with the effort. She didn’t know how long she could hold Erika, but the other woman didn’t notice. Josie’s head fell so that her brow rested against Erika’s calf. She leaned forward, and that helped to stabilize her a little.
“Look at me.” Erika spoke to the darkness in a girlish and inviting voice. “You’re looking for me, aren’t you? Aren’t you looking for me? Come on. Show me your face.”
Josie closed her eyes, anticipating the name that was to come.
“I see you. Come closer, you sanctimonious. . .”
Josie looked up, she whispered: “Hurry. I can’t hold you much longer.”
Erika nodded as she clutched at the edges where the brick was missing. She glanced down and Josie thought she might be smiling. Then she raised her head again and Josie heard her say:
“Shit.”
As Erika fell backward instinct took over. Josie reached out hoping to catch her or at least break her fall. But Josie’s reflexes were slow and Erika’s body was heavy and awkward in the small space. Her arms flailed, but when her head crashed into the opposite wall and Josie heard the crack of her skull, she knew it was bad.
“Erika! Erika!”
Josie’s hands roamed over the other woman, touching Erika’s legs, her torso, her hair that was wet with blood. Then she touched something solid where Erika’s throat should have been. Before she could identify what it was, the interior of the hut was illuminated. Josie grunted and threw her hands up. The light hurt her eyes as much as it frightened her. Suddenly it started to strobe. Every movement she made became a fractured frame for the entertainment of the man outside. Josie’s eyes turned away from the light only to recoil at the sight of Erika Gardner dead, a knife sticking out of her throat.
Sick with shock, Josie looked back trying to look past the light to the man outside as she asked:
“Why?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE:
DAY 4:
Josie Bates’ House, Hermosa Beach
Max slept. Eventually, Hannah would, too, but first there were chores to do. Despite the late hour, Hannah watered the plants inside and outside the house. She remade Josie’s bed because it was still messed up from when Archer and Daniel Young sat on it. She put the dishes in the dishwasher away. When Josie came home, she wanted her to see that she had cared for the house as if it were her own.
Finally, Hannah opened the plastic bag the nurse had given her. She took out Archer’s clothes and laundered them even though they would never be worn again. His pants had been cut off him in the emergency room, his shirt was missing buttons and was torn at the elbow, there was blood on his socks and there was only one shoe in the bag. Hannah could no more have left his clothes in that condition than she could have left Josie’s house without checking the lock on the door.
When the laundry was started, Hannah dug back into the bag and laid the rest of his things on the dining room table: money, keys, ID, and cell phone. She counted Archer’s money. Ten dollars: a five and five ones. The I.D. wallet had his driver’s license on one side and his state investigator’s ID on the other. The investigator’s ID had a better picture than the driver’s license. She adjusted the license so that it was perfectly centered in the plastic sheath. Finally, Hannah reached for the phone. Under the table, the heel of her right foot started to bounce, and she counted silently. There were three messages, two of them from his clients who were upset that he was not on the job and one from Peter Siddon. The man was on a rant. Hannah shut it off. She couldn’t listen to another word spoken against Josie.
Then Hannah stopped touching, stopped shaking her foot, and decided to go to bed. It was very late. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. As much as she would like to go to the hospital and sit with Archer, she would simply call for an update. There was no way of telling when Mrs. Crane would be coming for her, but there was no doubt she would come.
After she finished packing her things, Hannah got into bed. Max rolled into her. She put her arm around him and fell asleep wishing she believed in God. If she did, she could pray for a miracle because that was the only hope left.
Hermosa Beach PD, Hermosa Beach
It was after midnight when Liz Driscoll walked into the office. It didn’t take long to realize exactly how pathetic she was. The desk officer greeted her like a mortician at a viewing, and Liz was the one in the casket. The night dispatcher studiously attended to his board even though there were no calls. Even the cleaning crew stepped aside to let her pass. They should have just screamed ‘dead man walking’ and be done with it.
She tossed her jacket on the extra chair in her cubicle, plopped herself down and put her head in her hands. She cursed the burger and extra large order of fries she’d eaten because she thought it would make her feel better. It made her feel like a cow. The damn food was sitting right in the middle of her gut. Maybe it wasn’t the burger upsetting her stomach, maybe it was that gluttonous serving of crow she had with it.
“Damn. Damn.” She whispered, her curses directed at no one but herself.
Liz sat heavily in her chair, rolled up her sleeves and pulled three files to the middle of the desk. In the first was background on Bates. In the second were the trial transcripts Isaiah Wilson had given to Hannah and Archer had given to Liz when she picked him up to check out A-1 Storage. She opened the third and found her investigation notes from the interviews at the pier, discovery notes on the Jeep, phone calls to make and follow up on. She set it aside and rifled through her inbox, delighted to find the preliminary report on the Jeep.
Sitting back, Liz put her feet on the desk and crossed them at the ankles. The report looked formidable, but it was just like reading a medical history. There were lots of little boxes to check off and then a few spaces for notes.