The ceiling tiles were square and pitted. I sighed and closed my eyes again. I immediately reopened them. I was alive. The world was blurry, and my head pounded, but I was alive. A blob moved into my line of vision and gradually came into focus.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” the friendly nurse said quietly. The room was dark and cold. “If you’re not careful, we’ll have to give you a frequent visitor’s card.”
“God, I hope not,” I slurred.
Shivering, I raised my hand toward my head and winced. It hurt. Everything hurt. My head, my wrists, my legs. My eyelids wouldn’t stay open. The nurse added another blanket to the bed as sleep claimed me once more.
The next time I woke the room was lighter. A small sliver of sunlight peeked through the blinds. I had a moment of déjà vu when I saw Olivia was sitting in a chair reading a book.
“This is becoming a habit,” I croaked.
Olivia looked up, snapped her book shut, and frowned. “Unfortunately.”
“Sorry, Liv.”
Her face softened. She rose and helped me sit up before offering me a drink of water. My throat was scratchy, and my entire body ached. There were bruises forming along my wrists, and I could feel a bandage on the back of my heel. Slowly, I touched my head. No new bandages, but one side of my face was swollen. I patted my hair.
“They didn’t have to cut any,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Do you think you could eat something? The nurse brought you some scrambled eggs and chicken broth.”
I made a face but dutifully ate the eggs and swallowed a little of the broth. It satisfied Olivia. She moved the rolling tray table away from the bed. I laid my head back on the pillows just as the door opened, and Griggs walked in.
He looked exhausted. His color was off, and his eyes were rimmed in red. He gave me a tired smile. Olivia picked up the breakfast tray and slipped out of the room.
“Hey,” he said, coming to sit by the bed.
“Hi.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? Terrible. Everything hurts.” I paused. “But I’m glad I’m able to hurt.”
“Yeah. That was a little too close.” He ran his hands briskly across his face.
“What about you? You look tired.”
“I didn’t get much sleep. David interviewed Alan, but I wanted to listen. We also had to talk to Glen. It took hours.”
“So did Alan kill Brandy or was he covering for Glen?”
“It was all Alan. Glen was home drugged to the gills. He had taken a pill for his migraine, and Alan slipped sleeping powder in the water. Between the two, Glen was out cold.”
“Alan admitted that?”
“Alan admitted everything. He sat there calmly telling us everything in that soothing voice of his. It was creepy as hell.”
“Can you tell me what he said?”
Griggs nodded and leaned back in the chair. “He claimed it was all for Glen.”
In the weeks leading up to Brandy’s murder, Glen had grown more and more agitated. He was worried about his father’s relationship with Brandy and Bella’s effect on their business. He became obsessed with opening a second location. The night Brandy announced she was pregnant she had taunted Glen.
“According to Alan, she said she knew Marcus Cantono personally and was going to get him to buyout Robert so he could retire early and help her with the baby.”
“Marcus isn’t interested in Antonio’s,” I said.
“No, but Glen didn’t know that. It was the last straw for him. He flew into a rage, yelling and throwing things. Brandy left, leaving Alan to pick up the pieces.” Griggs reached for the pitcher on the night stand and poured a cup of water. He took a deep swallow before continuing. “Alan said he drove Glen home and gave him the sleeping powder. Once Glen was out, he picked up Cantono’s clothes. Early in the morning, he contacted Brandy and told her Robert was ill and asking for her.”
“It wasn’t on her phone records?”
“There was a call that morning to her cell. It was from one of the few pay phones still left in town. Right around the block from Brandy’s house.”
“So when she came out to get in her pickup, Alan was waiting.”
“Yup. He’s the one who hit you in the back of the head at the lake and vandalized your car. You told him you were going to find out who killed Brandy. He believed you.”
I grimaced. “I guess I need to stop doing that. You’d think after this many murders I’d recognize a killer.”
Griggs shook his head. “Only a few people actually look and act like a murderer.”
I leaned back against the pillows. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“Me, too.”
“Sorry about Austin.”
“Austin isn’t going anywhere. We’ll try again.”
I smiled. “Do you think they’ll let me out? I’m really growing to hate this place.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, getting up.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep. I wasn’t out long because when I woke, Griggs was talking quietly with the nurse who was handing him several sheets of paper. She smiled at me.
“Good. You’re awake. Dr. Pater has released you. You’re to see your own physician on Monday.” I nodded. “In the meantime, you need someone to stay with you. Our good chief here has volunteered for the job.”
I raised a brow but didn’t say anything. I just wanted to go home. I signed my name a couple of times and then I was bundled into a wheelchair while Griggs went to get his car. Before I knew it, I was sitting in his front seat.
“Do you mind if we stay at my place?” Griggs asked.
“What about Pandora and Harry?”
“They’re both with the Westons. Olivia said she would stay at your apartment if you preferred, but we thought it would be better for the animals to stay with the kids so you can get some rest.”
I was so tired I couldn’t even think. “Whatever works best.”
Griggs turned left and headed toward downtown. We passed the square and turned onto Ash. When we drove by my apartment, I stirred.
“Where are we going?”
“My place,” he said in a puzzled voice.
“But you live the other way.”
He laughed. “That’s right. You haven’t seen my new house.”
With a sinking feeling, I fell silent. Griggs turned onto Park and pulled into the driveway of the little Cape Cod house. I blinked back tears. He had purchased my dream home. Griggs was the one who stole it from me.
“I grabbed this place the minute it came on the market. It was exactly what I was looking for,” he said as he opened his door and got out. He walked around the car to open my door. “Can you walk?”
I nodded and slowly got out of the car. Griggs reached into the back and pulled out an overnight bag. I recognized it as mine. Olivia must have put it together for me. I took a step and swayed a little. Griggs dropped the bag and reached for my arm.
“Okay?” he asked.
His hand felt clammy. I looked at him. His face was flushed, and he had his other hand on his stomach.
“Are you okay?”
“My stomach’s a little upset. I’ve been living on fast food and items out of the vending machine.”
I touch his forehead. “You’re a little hot.”
“I’m just tired. Let’s get you inside.”
He picked up the bag, and we both moved slowly toward the house. I was breathing heavily by the time we reached the bedroom. I didn’t even look around. All I wanted was to crawl into bed. When Griggs handed me my bag, he tilted slightly to one side and had to brace himself with the wall. I pushed him toward the bed.
“Get comfortable and lie down.”
He shot me a wicked grin which faded quickly. “You know, normally I would’ve loved to hear you say that. Right now, I think I’ll just take your advice.”
I went into the adjoining bathroom and stared in shock at my face. It was purple and swollen on one side with cuts and abrasions covering the rest. Breathing deeply, I reminded myself I was alive. The bruises would fade, and the abrasions would heal. I changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts before making my way back to the bedroom.
Griggs was lying on the bed, looking pale and sick. I turned around, walked back into the bathroom, and picked up the plastic trashcan. Returning to the bedroom, I placed it by his side of the bed.
He frowned. “What’s that for?”
Using the bed for balance, I walked around to the other side. “In case you throw up.”
“I’m not going to throw up.”
I pulled back the covers and crawled under the sheets. I had no strength left. I laid my head down and closed my eyes.
“Why would I throw up?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Alex, you have the flu.”
“No,” he said. The bed moved. I opened my eyes to see him trying to sit up. “I can’t have the flu. I have to take care of you.”
Reaching out, I pushed him back down. My hand slid down his arm to the end where I entwined my fingers with his. His hand closed around mine.
“We’ll just have to take care of each other,” I said as we drifted off to sleep.
###