Haunting Refrain (36 page)

The nurse looked John over and then back at Kate.
“Same door?”

“And they’re the lucky ones.” Waite looked down at her feet. Without raising her head, she said. “Jamal, you ought to see her. She’s asleep. Stick your head in.”

“Christ!” Burnett muttered, backing out of the room. He turned to the nurse. “I hate to do it, but we need photographs. Could we do it without disturbing her? I don’t want her to wake up to find a strange man snapping pictures.”

“She’s had a sedative, but a flash might waken her,” the nurse said. “Let me page Doctor Robbins.”

It was hard for Kate to remember they still had to have a trial to convict Thomas. She wanted to hang him now. “If it has to be done, could I do it? At least I wouldn’t frighten her.”

“Why not?”
Waite looked at Burnett and shrugged. “I could tell her what we need.”

“Fine,” he said, taking a pager from his pocket. He glanced at the number and followed the nurse down the hall to the station. They all watched him make a call, frown, and turn his back to them. He continued talking, gesturing angrily with one hand. The faces inside the station’s countertop turned toward him.

“Uh, oh,” Waite said. “Whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

Burnett strode down the hall toward them.
“Trouble.
Andrews has a lawyer, and his
stepdaddy
is there already. They’re screaming about abuse and false arrest and anything else they can think of. The only charge so far is assault, and they want him out
now
.”

Waite spoke to the nurse. “Keep trying to find the doctor. We’ve got to talk to Gwen and try to get a statement from her.”

“Can’t I press charges?” Kate asked, rubbing her cheek.

“You aren’t in a good position right now. I don’t know how you got those earrings, and I don’t want to know,” Waite said, gesturing Kate to silence. “Everything we’ve got is strictly circumstantial right now, and he may be out on bail before we can get anything else.”

“But he’s killed two people and tried to kill a third!” Kate’s voice
rose
an entire octave. “How can he get out?”

“We can’t prove any of it at the moment. And you had better pray his fingerprints are on those earrings. Otherwise, it’s your word against his. Did you see anything else?” Burnett asked, glowering at everyone who passed. “Where’s that doctor? We’ve got to talk to Gordon.”

John ran to the nurses’ station, spoke to Gwen’s nurse, and came back. “Robbins is on his way.”

Kate forced herself to concentrate on Thomas’s bedroom. The panic she had felt when she realized he was there overrode anything else for a minute. Then she remembered. “There was some other jewelry in the same drawer.”

“Drawer?
Drop that word, Kate. Tell me you had a vision.” Waite said. “What jewelry?”

“I
saw
,” Kate said carefully, “a gold chain with a little diamond or something that looked like one. My vision also included a silver bracelet made of heavy, twisted links. You might look under the bed.”

Burnett’s face lit up. “I’ll try to get a search warrant.”

“You might want to include his computer in it,” Kate said.

Burnett gave her a suspicious look but didn’t comment.

“Um-mm.
Just because he was a computer science major.”
She smiled sweetly, wishing she could duplicate
Venice
’s “innocent” face.

“I’ll do my best. We’ve got to get it before he’s released. You stay here,” Burnett told his partner. “She would probably rather talk to a woman—if she remembers.” The last words were called over his shoulder as he took off down the hall, almost running into the doctor.

Waite quickly explained the situation, and the solemn young man agreed to waken Gwen. He told Waite he had been on the phone. “We just heard from her father’s office. He’s out of town and can’t get here before morning.”

“Damn! We could use some heavy hitters on our side.” Waite ran her fingers through her hair and scowled.

“She’s pretty traumatized—couldn’t remember anything when they first brought her in—and this will be hard on her. Remember the injury to her throat. Speaking will be very painful. Keep it to an absolute minimum.” Doctor Robbins turned to Kate. “As the only family member, you might want to try waking her.”

Waite said nothing. Kate had almost forgotten her claim to be Gwen’s sister.
“Of course.
I won’t leave her.”

John followed them into the room but stood back against the wall. Gwen’s face was turned away, and she did nothing to acknowledge the presence of the people around her.

“Gwen?” Kate called softly, afraid to touch the battered figure.

Gwen blinked and slowly turned to face her. “
Hewoh
, Kate,” she whispered, her raspy words further distorted by her protruding lips.

Kate wanted to scream, cry,
kill
Thomas Andrews. Instead she smiled and sat down in the bedside chair, placing her hand gently over Gwen’s. “You’re safe now.”

Gwen mumbled something Kate couldn’t understand.

Detective Waite spoke behind Kate. “Gwen, I’m Detective Lynne Waite. Can you just tell me who did this? I need to hear it from you.”

As he often did, John listened quietly, allowing people to forget his presence, but Kate could tell by the tight, closed look on his face that he was seething inside.

A tear rolled from the corner of Gwen’s eye. She squinted through swollen eyes at the detective, obviously making an effort to enunciate. “I can’t remember.”
 

A collective gasp punctuated the stillness of the room. “You can’t remember?” Kate asked. Waite’s hand pressed her shoulder, a warning. Kate understood. She couldn’t put words in Gwen’s mouth. “Gwen, it’s important or we wouldn’t ask. Please try to at least give the detective a name.”

Gwen coughed slightly and clutched her throat. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes.
“Tried.
Can’t,” she whispered.

Waite cleared her throat. Kate was sure she was trying to swallow a lump, as she herself was. The detective continued, “I’m sure it’s small comfort right now, but Doctor Robbins thinks you’ll heal with no lasting scars.” She waited a minute, giving Gwen time to recover.

“Can you tell me the last thing you remember?” she asked.

“Tea, this morning.
Then here.”

They all leaned forward, straining to hear the hoarse voice. Gwen whispered, “My diary.
Desk by phone.
Maybe something there.”

“She keeps an appointment diary in the kitchen. Maybe she would have written something there,” Kate explained. She plucked a Kleenex from the bedside stand and wiped Gwen’s tears. “Hang in there, honey. By the way,
Venice
sends her love.”

The slits that passed for Gwen’s eyes closed, and they could see her body relax. She had fallen asleep again. Waite left the room, motioning them all to follow her. Back in the hallway, she said, “I’m going to have a policewoman sit in the room with her in case she remembers. Also,” she paused, ensuring their attention, “she’s the only one who can send Thomas Andrews to jail right now. And I’m sure he knows it.”

“He might try to come here for her?” Kate knew it but didn’t want to believe it. John’s firm hands gripped her shoulders.

“Yes, almost certainly.
Kate, I don’t know what he thinks of you at this point—you’re probably high on the list but not top priority. I’m keeping someone with
Venice
, too, just in case. Are you staying here with Gwen?”

“Yes. I’d like to pick up some clothes and come right back.”

“Thomas won’t be out just yet. Go right now and you should be all right. John, don’t let her out of your sight. Then come back and stay here with the officer. I’ll have someone here within the hour.” She said to the doctor, “Keep an eye on her and warn your staff. We think this man’s a killer. Don’t take any chances. Is there a private phone I can use?”

Kate slipped back into Gwen’s room to kiss her and whisper to the sleeping woman. “I’ll only be gone for a few minutes to get some clothes. I won’t leave you.”

She and John hurried from the hospital to her house, where she grabbed the first clothes she came to. John drove through a fried chicken place and then on to his house. “You eat while I get into something clean. I’ll bring your bag down,” he said, thrusting the chicken box at her.

“Right.
This stuff grows on you.
Literally.”
She patted her hips as he ran up the stairs. Kate quickly spread the box, exposing the chicken and biscuits, and opened the potato and slaw containers. John was back by the time she poured them each a glass of tea. “My throat’s so dry I can hardly talk.”

“It’s probably sore, too.” He held her head between his hands and tilted it back, tracing the line of her throat with gentle kisses. Tears seeped beneath her lashes. He wiped them away with his thumbs and kissed her eyelids.

“Poor Gwen.
It hurts me to look at her.” Kate raised her hands to catch his wrists and felt the stiffness in her right shoulder, reminding her of John’s role. “You’ve got some bruises yourself. You did
good
for a reporter.”

“I’ve had worse from my sisters.” He laughed and tweaked her hair. “Let’s eat. I know you want to get back to the hospital.”

“Surely they won’t let Thomas out. They
know
he killed Charlene and Kelly and tried to kill Gwen.”

“He’ll probably be out in another hour. Knowing and proving are a long way apart. A judge will want some very strong evidence, especially if he’s got a good lawyer.” He bit into a chicken breast.

“It doesn’t seem right. At least Gwen will be safe for now, but what if she doesn’t ever remember? How long can the police protect her?” Kate stirred her fork around in the slaw. Every time she thought of Gwen, she wanted to cry. Or kill Thomas Andrews.

“Eat something. Given a little time and knowing where to look, the police will dig up the evidence. Speaking of evidence,” he
paused,
searching Kate’s bruised face and haunted eyes. “We’ll talk about your adventures later.”

“I had to do it. And it wasn’t soon enough. If only I’d looked at those pictures sooner—”

“Don’t start beating on yourself. If it weren’t for you, they still wouldn’t know it was Thomas.”

She took a few bites and drank the tea. “Are you ready? You can eat the rest in the car. I’ll drive.” She put her glass in the sink and turned on the water. “And I need to call
Venice
.”

“Leave it.” He stuffed the containers into the box and stood. “Let’s go. You can call
Venice
from the hospital, if she’s not there by now.”

They were at the door when the phone rang.

Waite’s angry voice crackled in John’s ear. “Andrews was just released.”

In spite of his unfinished dinner, John drove. He glanced at Kate. Her head rested against the seat back and her eyes were closed. In the glow of a traffic light, he could make out the faint shadow on her left cheek, Thomas’s handiwork. Her collar hid the marks on her neck. His stomach tightened, thinking about it. He knew she had gotten into Thomas’s house to get those earrings. Later, when things settled down, he would find out what happened, how she did it. If anything had happened to her . . .
 
The thought was like a kick in the gut.

Kate opened her eyes and sat up as soon as they turned into the hospital parking lot. She opened the door, grabbed her bulging bag and the chicken box, and slid from the car. She was striding across the concrete before John had fished his briefcase from the back seat. He hurriedly locked the car and ran, catching her at the entrance.