Nate knew that look, and he also knew there would be a free-for-all if he didn’t step in and put a stop to it. He said, “Brandon, if you’ll bring the tea to the table, I’ll take the bread out of the oven and we’ll be ready to eat.”
To say the meal was tense was an understatement. Aside from the initial saying of grace, they ate in complete silence. Dinner at home with his parents had always been like that. His father wanted complete quiet at the table, and that’s what he got. But dinner at the Nash house was different. Whether it was just him and Brandon or the whole noisy clan, there was always laughter and conversation. And when he and Brandon were alone, the food was often abandoned for much more pleasurable pursuits than eating. Tonight, though, the silence was almost more than Nate could stand. He picked at his food, and watched Brandon glare at Mike over his bowl of stew. Nate was more than a little relieved when the phone rang and broke the silence.
Brandon took the phone, while Nate went back to his seat. He studied Brandon’s face, noticing as his expression went from intent to elated. He was practically hoping up and down when he said, “Alright, Sam. Keep everyone out of her room until I get there.” Pause. “No, Eva and the doctor are fine, but no one else goes in until I have a chance to talk to her.” Pause. “Alright. See you then.”
Nate caught his breath and gave Brandon a wet kiss right on his lips. Brandon pulled him closer and deepened the contact. He barely heard Mike clear his throat. He reluctantly broke away and turned to find Mike standing by the table.
“Yep. More than likely, she won’t remember anything, but just in case she does, I don’t want Calder’s lawyer to be able to say she was coerced or coached in any way.” He gently pushed Nate towards the mudroom. “Get your coat and lets go.”
Remembering their argument earlier, Brandon sighed. “Fine. I know better than to try to force you. Look, just promise me you’ll call if you need me.” He reached over to the counter where Nate’s cell phone was charging and handed it to him. “Carry this in you pocket until I get back.”
Brandon spent a lot of time in hospitals. Aside from the births of his nieces and nephews, there were accident reports, victims’ statements, interviews with the coroner, and on and on. Usually he dreaded victims’ statements the most, but he was actually looking forward to this one. Marjorie Newman’s statement would put an end to this whole sordid mess, and mark the beginning of his marriage to Nate. He was practically skipping by the time he reached Marjorie’s room.
He greeted Sam, who was dutifully standing guard in the hall, and then knocked on the door. He opened it before receiving leave to go in. He’d visited several times since Marjorie’s attack, so he was prepared for the balloons, flowers, and cards littering the room, as well as for the sight of Marjorie’s partner, Eva, sitting near the bed. The only surprise in store for him was Marjorie, sitting straight up in the bed, her gray hair beginning to grow back from the shaving made necessary by a blow to the head. Her hazel eyes twinkled as Brandon came into the room.
Eva greeted him with a warm hug. Unlike Marjorie, Eva’s hair hadn’t grayed with age. It was jet black and secured in a braid down her back, clear signs of her American Indian heritage. Eva was a beautiful woman who looked closer to forty than her actual sixty years with her browned skin and petite figure.
Brandon stood behind one of the two chairs next to the bed and waited for Eva to take her seat. When she did, he sat down and reached for Marjorie’s hand. He said, “Hey there, pretty thing. You look more like a woman who’s spent two months at a spa than in a coma.”
She bobbed her head up and down, so Brandon took out his notebook and said, “Most of these are yes or no questions, so just nod or shake your head, and save your voice.” When she acknowledged that, he continued with, “Okay, doll, first question: do you remember what happened the night of the fire?”
Another nod, this one more forceful. Brandon reached for her hand again and gave it a squeeze. “You’re doing fine, Marjorie. Now I need to ask you another question. Did the guy who hit you just walk into the store and club you, or was he hiding, waiting for you to leave?”
Another shake, this one more emphatic. Brandon looked at Eva, who only shrugged. He turned back to Marjorie and said, “Are you sure? Remember, you took a pretty vicious knock to the head. Could you be mistaken?”
Mike shook his head. “No thanks, Nate. I don’t know where I’d put any more, but everything was great.” He lowered his eyes to the table. “Thanks for having me over here tonight. My place isn’t the same without. . .well, you know.”
Mike stood up and walked over to the kitchen windows, staring out at the night sky. He was quiet for a full minute before he turned back to Nate and said, “Of all the things Amy wanted, nothing was more important to her than knowing that the two people she loved most in this world cared for each other, too.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Did Amy ever tell you that she and I were trying to get pregnant? She wanted to name our first born son Nathan.”
Nate swallowed past the lump in his throat. “No, she didn’t tell me, but I’m sure she would have eventually. Amy and I talk about—” He broke off when he realized what he’d said. “We talked about everything.”
Mike sighed. “Like I said, nothing was more important to Amy than knowing that the two men she loved the most were on good terms. When you and I got into that fight over Nash, Amy was crushed. She cried all night long. And even though she’s gone now, I can’t help but think that maybe, in some way, she knows about what happened between us after the funeral. I want Amy to see that you and I have patched up our differences so she can rest in peace. I want you to drive out to the cemetery with me, so we can tell her, together.”
Nate was surprised. He never figured Mike for the type to wax existential. The only thing he’d ever heard Mike say about the hereafter was they’d better have beer and college football in Heaven or he wasn’t going. Now he was standing in Nate’s kitchen carrying on about Amy resting in peace by knowing the two of them had patched things up. Nate started to refuse straight away, but decided to try and talk him out of it instead. “Mike, the temperature is in the high thirties tonight. Maybe we can go out there tomorrow afternoon, before the sun sets.”
Nate grabbed his coat and his keys. Giving Sasha one final pat, he motioned Mike outside and then locked the place up tight. When they got to the driveway, Mike started towards his car, but Nate shook his head.
Nate thought Mike seemed a little agitated, but he wrote it off as a natural reaction to visiting Amy’s grave. Mike was hesitant, looking down at his watch a couple of times before saying, “Fine, let’s just go and get this over with.”
Brandon flew out of Marjorie’s room and down the stairs to the basement parking area, the acrid taste of fear burning his mouth. He barked orders into his radio as he went, Sam at his heels. In between yelling into the radio, Brandon told Sam about Marjorie’s revelation. When they reached the garage, Sam said, “What now, Boss?”
“I’ve called every unit I’ve got, and I’ve also got the state police on their way to block all the roads leading out of town.” His hands were shaking as he got into the SUV and grabbed his pistol from under the seat. “Follow me out to the house. Jim and Dewey are already on their way. Stay out of sight until I give the signal to move. I don’t know what Vaughn is planning, but he knows Marjorie is awake, and he’s got to be afraid she’s gonna remember something.” He punched his keys into the ignition. “We’re wasting time. Follow me in your car, and I’ll fill you in on the rest over the radio.”
Sam nodded and ran to his car. Only seconds had passed since Brandon had heard Marjorie’s statement and raced to the garage, but it seemed like hours to Bran. He pulled out of the underground parking area without even looking and headed back towards Reed. He switched on the radio and said, “Sam, you there?”
Before he could say anything else, his cell phone rang. Bran pressed the talk button and all but yelled, “What,” into the mouthpiece.
The dispatcher said, “I just got a report back from the deputies I sent to your house. No one’s there, Sheriff. No sign of either Dr. Morris or Mike Vaughn.”