Dying to Tell (22 page)

“Jesus.” Perspiration beaded on Jake’s forehead. “Still, Sadie, you know your sister was ill. How can you believe anything she wrote?”

“That’s the problem. Sorting out the truth from her delusions.” Sadie sighed. “But with what you learned about Grace and Brenda’s information, it makes me wonder if there’s some truth to it.”

“It’s still hard to swallow.”

Sadie’s eyes darkened. “I know it sounds crazy, but if the doctors were doing something underhanded to the patients, they had built-in protection. Everyone assumed the complaints were just the crazy rantings of the mentally ill.”

Jake turned into the parking lot for the retirement community, a series of small white brick units that looked bright and cheery in contrast to the stormy night. When he parked, he turned to her. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

Sadie didn’t like the sound of his gruff voice. “What?”

“Earlier I received a copy of the phone records from your grandfather’s house and Amelia’s phone.” He paused, concern flaring in his eyes. “My deputy’s phone number was on the list.”

Sadie twisted in her seat. “I don’t understand.”

“Mike admitted that he met Amelia in a bar...well, no, not Amelia, Viola.”

Another disturbing memory surfaced. Viola coming home drunk, smelling like men’s cheap cologne when she was seventeen...talking about sex and how she used men to get what she wanted.

“He didn’t mention it when I met him,” Sadie said. “And at the jail, Amelia didn’t act as if she knew him.” Because she’d lapsed into her Bessie alter.

“I know. Mike said they hooked up a few times, then he ran into her in town one day and she looked different. She didn’t recognize him.”

“Because it was Amelia,” Sadie said, realization dawning.

He nodded. “He found out about her mental instability that day and broke it off. Viola called him a few times after that.” Jake sighed. “Then he threatened to get a restraining order against her, and she left him alone.”

“What are you saying? That Papaw might have found out Viola had a lover and confronted her?”

“It’s a possibility.” Jake hesitated. “Mike has an alibi for that night. But if Viola slept with him, she might have had other lovers.”

Sadie sagged in her seat. “You’re right. She and Papaw could have argued over one of them.”

Jake gave her a sympathetic look, then stroked her arm. “I’m sorry, Sadie, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The touch of his fingers on her skin made her body tingle. Made her ache for more.

For things she could never have. Like Jake in her arms, in her bed.

In her life.

He squeezed her hands to comfort her, and Sadie blinked back tears. Still, humiliation ate at her as memories of Amelia’s episodes flashed through her mind.

One day at school, her sister, as Viola, had tried to seduce their history teacher in front of the entire class. Another time she’d come on to the gym coach. And one night at a football game, she’d snuck up on Jake and kissed him.

Sadie’s heart had broken at the sight.

But Jake had realized Amelia wasn’t she, unlike most people, who couldn’t tell them apart, and he’d pushed Amelia away.

She had fallen even more in love with him for knowing the difference.

Their gazes met, tension thrumming through the air between them, electric with the closeness they had once shared.

Before her life shattered around her, and she lost Jake.

The shiver that tore through Sadie made Jake ache to pull her into his arms.

If Amelia hadn’t killed her grandfather, and her lover had, then she had either blocked out the traumatic event, was too afraid to tell, or didn’t want to implicate her lover.

Which meant that she might be a witness.

She also might be in danger.

“When you visit Amelia tomorrow, can you access Viola?” Jake asked. “Maybe she can tell you what happened between Amelia and Walt.”

“I’ll try,” Sadie said, looking shaken, as if she too realized that her sister might be in danger. “But if Viola’s lover killed Papaw, then looking into mistreatment at the hospital may be a wild goose chase.”

Jake shrugged. “It’s still my duty to find out what happened to Grace Granger. Someone at the hospital might have witnessed what happened.” He turned in to a driveway. “I sent my deputy over there to see what he could find out from the staff.”

Sadie reached for the car door. “If someone hurt Amelia at the hospital, I want them punished. Especially if my parents died because of it.”

Sadie climbed out, anxious to question the nurse. Cold air engulfed them as they walked up to the door, and Jake rang the bell.

The sound of a radio echoed from inside, then feet shuffling. “Who’s there?” a female voice asked.

“Sheriff Blackwood, ma’am. I need to talk to you for a minute.”

The lock clicked from inside, then the door opened. A heavyset woman, probably in her seventies, with short gray curls stood in a jogging suit. “Yes?”

Jake introduced Sadie, and Patty invited them in. She offered tea, but they declined. “What can I do for you?”

Jake cleared his throat. “Tell us about the time you worked for Dr. Coker at the free clinic.”

The woman sipped her own cup of tea. “What about it?”

“My sister and I were treated there as children,” Sadie said. “Do you remember us? We were twins.”

Patty’s hand fluttered to her cheek. “Uh...yes, of course. Your sister had some emotional problems.”

“That’s right,” Sadie said. “But we’re investigating the possibility that Dr. Coker or another doctor might have mistreated her at the clinic.”

Patty fidgeted. “Dr. Coker was a good doctor. He...gave free health care to the needy.”

“Did you ever see him do anything medically inappropriate?” Jake asked.

“No,” the woman said. “I told you he was a good man.”

Sadie cleared her throat. “We spoke to him, and he admitted they did things they shouldn’t have at the clinic. He even hinted that my parents’ deaths weren’t an accident. It made me wonder if they discovered some impropriety and were killed because of it.”

The woman gasped. “Dr. Coker would never have hurt your mother. And I certainly wouldn’t have.” She stood abruptly. “Now, I think you should leave.”

“Please, Patty,” Sadie said. “Joe’s mother claims he was normal when he first visited the clinic, but after a few visits, he stopped talking and his behavior changed.”

“I...don’t know what you’re implying,” Patty said. “But I don’t like it. Often kids with problems don’t exhibit signs until they’re around two or three, when parents notice that they aren’t progressing normally. In fact, autism often becomes apparent around that age.”

“That’s true,” Sadie said. “But please talk to us. We have reason to believe that some of the children were given experimental drugs. Maybe the doctors tried a new medication on my sister and Joe and Grace.”

“I don’t recall anything like that,” Patty said.

“Was there anyone else at the clinic who had access to the patients?” Jake asked. “Another nurse, another doctor?”

The woman picked at a loose thread on her sweater. “Now that you mention it, there was another doctor who worked at the clinic for a short while. Only a couple of days a week.”

“What was his name?”

“Dr. Sanderson,” Patty said, her voice low, distant, as if the memory had just surfaced. “I almost forgot about him.”

Jake had heard that name before. Sanderson had treated Grace. “Do you know where he is now?”

Patty shook her head. “I think he retired somewhere near Byrne Holler.”

“Thank you for your help, Patty.” Jake removed a business card from his pocket and laid it on the table. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

Her eyes flitted toward the card, then she twisted her hands together again.

Jake took Sadie’s elbow and led her to the door. A minute later, they settled back in the car. “Dr. Tynsdale said that Dr. Sanderson treated Grace.”

“Then let’s talk to him,” Sadie said. “Should we call first to make sure he’s home?” Sadie asked.

“No,” Jake said. “I want the element of surprise on our side.”

Jake grabbed his tablet and accessed the police database, then plugged in a search for Sanderson. Just as Patty had said, he now lived in the hollow.

Sadie lapsed into silence as he started the engine and drove away. The temptation to pull her up against him and soothe her tugged at Jake. He had dreamed about seeing her for so long, about having her return home and confess that she’d always loved him, that an ache started deep in his chest, burning through him.

Dammit, she’d bled him dry when she left years ago. Loving her had destroyed him.

He could not travel down that dangerous path again.

Thunder rolled across the sky, lightning streaked over the mountain ridges, and the wind beat at his car as he drove into the hollow. A dirt road veered off from the main highway, leading into a wooded area that seemed deserted, and so dark that Jake nearly hit a deer that raced in front of the car.

Sadie gasped as the deer fled into the woods to safety, and he glanced at her. She looked small and lost in the seat beside him, her breathing echoing in the awkward silence. Ten years ago, she would have crept over to his side and laid her head on
his shoulder, and he would have wrapped an arm around her and whispered that he loved her.

But everything had changed.

His headlights swept across the woods, finally lighting up a log cabin situated on the river. But it wasn’t a rustic cabin; this one was gigantic, custom-built, with skylights and a deck that spanned its width at the back, overlooking the river. A Cadillac was parked to the side, and a low light burned in the front room, evident through the Palladian windows.

Jake checked his weapon inside his jacket before he opened the car door, and he and Sadie wove their way up the rocky path to the front porch. The boards of the porch steps squeaked as they climbed.

Jake raised his fist and knocked while Sadie glanced off the side of the porch at the river. The sound of water rushing over rocks filled the air, and a tree limb snapped off and flew against the side of the house.

Jake listened for sounds inside but heard no movement, so he knocked again. Sadie walked up behind him, tugging her coat more tightly around herself.

He tapped his boot on the porch floor and gave the man another few seconds to answer, but again nothing.

Still, a car was outside.

Sensing trouble, Jake decided to check out the house. Glancing through the front windows into the den and kitchen, he saw no one inside.

He twisted the knob, and was surprised when it turned and the door opened. Instinct warned him to be careful, and he threw up a hand, urging Sadie to wait outside.

“Dr. Sanderson,” he shouted as he eased in the door. “It’s Sheriff Blackwood.” He scanned the front room. Newspapers were stacked by the fireplace; a pair of worn house shoes rested in front of a leather recliner; and a dirty coffee cup sat on the coffee table.

Sadie eased up behind him, but he whispered for her to stay close so he could shield her in case of an attack.

Suddenly a loud noise rent the air, and a cat tore past them. Startled, Sadie clutched Jake’s arm. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of dried blood on the cat’s nose. Earlier, its paws had left a bloody trail across the floor.

“Jake?”

“Stay here.” He removed his gun from his holster and held it at the ready.

“No,” Sadie whispered. “I feel safer with you.”

His heart swelled at that, although worry niggled at him that they might be walking into a trap. Another step, and he checked out the kitchen, which was empty. He glanced at the office to the right. It had been ransacked, the safe open.

A home invasion/robbery?

Then he spotted Sanderson. His back was to them, but he was slumped over, his head on the desk. The scent of death, of blood and body odors, hit Jake. Behind him, Sadie gasped and clutched his arm.

Jake inched closer, then lifted the man’s head. Dammit.

Sanderson’s throat had been cut, his clothes soaked in blood.

“O
h, my God,” Sadie whispered.

“Stay back and don’t touch anything, Sadie.” Jake motioned for her to move against the wall. “Judging from the body’s decomp, the killer is long gone, but I’m going to take a quick run through the house just to make sure.”