Saturday
“MEAGHAN SAYS THERE’S still no lead on Gord’s killer.” Landon clasped her thin cardigan against a sharp breeze as she and Bobby hurried up the concrete steps toward South Shore Regional Hospital.
“How’s she holding up?”
“Strong but sad, you know? Like she’s acknowledged it hurts even though their relationship wasn’t good. I think she’s still mad that I’m not helping investigate, but what could I do?”
Bobby held open one of the glass entry doors for her. “Does she know you’re asking around for Ciara? That’d burn.”
“She didn’t say. But I did tell Dylan Elva can shoot.”
His light touch on her arm stopped her in the hospital foyer. “You’re not going to approach Elva about this, are you?”
“No way. But I hope she didn’t do it.”
In the elevator, Bobby dangled a mid-sized pink gift bag against the side of his jeans. “Thanks for not making me visit alone. As flirty as Ciara gets, I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea.”
“Aw, but you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.” Landon snickered. “Maybe that’s why she does it. That and habit.”
His face pulled into an exaggerated grimace. “Thanks for the ego boost.”
The elevator shuddered to a stop, and Landon stepped out. She smirked at him over her shoulder. “Hey, friends are for keeping you grounded.”
Today’s private guard recognized Landon. Once Ciara okayed Bobby, they entered the room.
Ciara’s features lit when she saw them. A faint rose entered her cheeks, although it didn’t reach the grey hollows around her eyes. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Wincing, she hitched herself taller against the elevated pillows and rearranged the length of clear tubing leading to her nose. A green bangle on her right wrist stood out against her pale skin and the pastel hospital gown. “They say my oxygen count is getting better, but I could be days in here.”
Bobby strolled to the bed and offered the gift bag. “Maybe this’ll make you smile.”
“For me?” Eager fingers scooped out the tissue paper and lifted an eight-by-ten picture frame. “Oh, Bobby, thank you. I miss him so much!”
She reversed the frame for Landon to see Moxie sitting tall and proud, a circle of cloth like a tiny nest beneath him on the tile floor. His wide-open mouth and lolling tongue mimed laughter.
Bobby laughed. “That’s Gramp’s favourite hat. Old guy wasn’t too impressed.”
“He didn’t… leave anything, did he?”
“Just allergens. It’s all good.”
“Did Landon tell you Tait smuggled him in here yesterday? You should have seen the nurse. But it was worth it.”
It had been worth it. Landon smiled. “I think he likes you. Tait, I mean.”
Ciara shrugged. “He’s kind, but it’s more for Orran than for me. But speaking of Orran—” She lifted her wrist with the bright bangle. “See what he brought me last night.”
“Yeah, I saw your post online this morning.” Bobby leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Very nice.”
Before long, Bobby excused himself. “I’ll give you two space for a little girl talk.”
Once he left, Landon scooted her chair nearer to the bed. “So what’s wrong? Other than being tossed off a cliff and getting pneumonia on top of your injuries?”
Ciara’s shuddery, drama-queen-worthy sigh ended with a sniffle. “Bobby noticed too, didn’t he? That’s why he cleared out.”
“He’s going to work on his book in the cafeteria while he waits for me.”
“Don’t writers need quiet?”
“His idea, not mine. But it might be easier to talk about what’s troubling you while we’re alone.”
“Orran said my bracelet was an early inheritance—while he’s alive to see me enjoy it.” Ciara caressed it with her fingertips. “It’s beautiful and I love it. But now I’m even more worried about his health. What kind of life expectancy does he have if he’s talking like that?”
“And the two of you have just reconnected.”
“He’s been more like a father to me than my real one—or Phil. He helped me believe in myself.” Ciara’s mouth trembled.
“A good mentor is a treasure.” Landon thanked God every day for Anna and Zander. “Even with his lung problems, though, Orran seems do be doing okay. Tait doesn’t act worried.”
“Protective, but yeah, I guess not worried.” Ciara’s head flopped against the pillows, short brown hair flying. “I have nothing to do but think.”
The flowers had gone home after her first stay. Other than the photo of Moxie, the stark and impersonal space held nothing to distract her.
“If your concussion won’t let you read or watch videos on your phone, what about an audiobook? Or podcasts?”
“Everything hurts and I can’t concentrate. Except on sad things.”
“Have you talked to the nurses? It’s normal to feel vulnerable after a trauma. They might have a counsellor on staff.”
“I can get through this by myself.”
Landon pressed her fingers against Ciara’s forearm. “It’s okay to need help. Nobody’s strong all the time.”
Ciara’s phone buzzed on the bedside table, and she did a slow-motion reach for the sparkly case. She squinted at the screen before answering. “Tait? Is Orran okay?”
“Far as I know and no thanks to you. Why shouldn’t he be?” His anger punched through the phone for Landon to hear.
Ciara flinched and drew the phone away from her ear. Ashen-faced, she clutched at Landon’s hand. “I—he was talking about dying. Why no thanks to me? What did I do?”
“You bragged all over the internet about the trinket he gave you. Did you learn nothing from that local theft—criminals tracking keywords? Tagging Orran means they’ll be watching both of you. Did you even think?”
“I forgot about the thief.” Ciara’s eyes had gone wide, her lips a perfect circle. “Jade’s pricey, but are you sure the bracelet’s that valuable?”
“He didn’t get it at the dollar store.” His contempt dragged guilt across Landon’s skin.
“I’ll take it down. Right away.”
“Do that. And hope it’s not too late.”
Ciara jabbed repeatedly at the phone screen, then dropped the jewelled case in her lap. Tears matted her lashes. “Orran’s gift made me feel special. I didn’t think about how much it could be worth, and I’ve ruined everything. Again.”
She yanked the jade bangle from her wrist and thrust it at Landon. “Keep it for me? It’s not safe here.”
Landon frowned. “If—if—a thief saw your post, how would they find you now?”
Ciara’s chin dipped, and her gaze cut upward. “I said I was in the hospital. If the thief Orran was talking about saw that picture and wants the bracelet, it’s an open invitation. Take it—please.” A hunted look twisted her features, usually so pretty and poised, and taut lines stood out against her pale skin.
Solid green with streaks of brown, the polished circle was surprisingly heavy. Landon zipped it into her purse. “You need to rest so you can get out of here.”
“Ken, Kimi, and Shaun all admired it last night. That should be okay, right? I mean, I trust Ken and Kimi, and Shaun returned my other bracelet instead of keeping it.”
“I’m glad you had company.”
“Shaun brought his guitar and played for me. Quiet stuff. It helped me settle for the night.” Ciara adjusted her position on the bed, stifling a gasp at the motion. “Ken and Kimi came after Orran. I don’t know… Ken says he’s built and sold a number of businesses and the next one’s right around the corner. But he’s hanging around here instead of going home. I’m worried about him.”
“Maybe they stayed because they’re worried about you.”
“Well, I hope he finds a fantastic job. Even better, an idea for a new company. He’s not ready to retire yet.” The quiet thrumming of the oxygen machine swallowed her exhale. “I should try to nap. Will you bring me a few things tomorrow from the apartment?”
Armed with Ciara’s keys and a list, Landon found her way to the cafeteria. Bobby sat at a table in the half-empty room, his back to the wall. He held up a finger as she approached, gaze never leaving the screen, and kept typing.
She plunked into the moulded plastic seat across from him. Instead of the goofy geek, here was the writer at work. His straw-straight hair stuck out like he’d been mashing it again, and his mouth pinched tight on one side. As she watched, his eyes narrowed behind the gunmetal-framed glasses as if he saw deeper than the text on his laptop.
A spurt of frenzied keystrokes. Then a relieved exhale. “Thanks. I didn’t dare lose that.” He snapped the laptop shut and tucked it into his grey leather shoulder bag. “Ready to go?”
“Can we stop at her apartment?”
“Sure.”
When they walked outside, the sunlight left Landon blinking. She inhaled the fresh air. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting it to get this mild.”
“Hospitals always feel like it’s cloudy out. And maybe rainy.” Bobby jingled his car keys. “I blame the serious atmosphere. The waiting and the hush, even with all the machines and activity.”
The sun’s warmth wrapped her, slowing her steps. “I feel bad Ciara’s stuck in there.”
Bobby matched her pace. “You’ve had a rough time lately too.”
As they descended the steps to the parking lot, he dipped his hand into the laptop case. “This might help when the school work gets too heavy and you need something mindless.” He held out a paperback. “Travers’s first adventure.”
Landon’s fingers closed around the crisp pocket-sized book. With her focus on the stairs underfoot, her peripheral vision caught a rocket-shaped spaceship. When they reached level ground, she took a proper look. “Thank you.” He had no idea what a struggle reading was. If she told him now, he’d feel terrible.
She hefted the book in her palm, then opened the front cover. “You signed it!” It took a moment’s concentration to master the cursive letters. “ ‘To Landon, a real-life hero. Love, Bobby.’ That’s so sweet.”
His cheeks had flushed as if he thought her slow response meant she didn’t like his gift. But her smile drew a matching one, and some of the anxiety left his expression. “Gramp and I wanted to vet Zander. It’s only fair I give you the chance to form an opinion of Travers.”
Her thumb riffled the edges of the pages, sending a soft puff of air into her face. “He sounds so perfect. I’m a little intimidated.”
“He’s an action hero. We expect him to be over-the-top amazing. It’s not real life.”
She tapped the book against his chest. “Then it’s okay for you and me to be ordinary mortals?”
“Kind of part of the human condition.” He started toward the car.
Quick steps brought her level with him again. “So… Robert J. Hawke. James? John?”
“Jules. You’re sworn to secrecy.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s kind of cool. Jules Verne wrote amazing science fiction in his day. But” —his fingers carved exaggerated air quotes— “Julie. It gets old fast.”
After a brief stop at Ciara’s apartment, they arrived at the inn shortly past noon. Landon said goodbye to Bobby and started for her room, but Zander called her name from the doorway to the common room. She bypassed the stairs and joined him. The weekend guests who’d checked in yesterday were still out, so they had the place to themselves.
Zander stood by the bookcase, one elbow resting against a shelf.
She tapped Bobby’s book against her thigh. “Did they tell you anything?”
“Not much, but between the lines, my impression was that the investigation hasn’t uncovered any solid leads. For this attacker or for the Bridgewater shooter.”
“I’d be surprised if they could give details on an active case anyway.” Although Dylan had slipped Landon a hint or two in the past.
“My background in corrections affords me a bit of an in. Plus, Constable Tremblay is grateful to have me here on-site with you. He’ll feed me whatever he thinks will keep you safe.”
Landon’s fingernails dug into the book cover. “Protective friends are a blessing.” Except when they took it too far and made her feel like an injured bird that could never be returned to the wild.
His narrow lips shaped a wry smile. Somehow he could always read her thoughts. “You do your part and support Ciara. I’ll be the civilian liaison with the police.”