Mitchell and I show up at the hospital at noon on Saturday for visiting hours. Veronica Castell had a severe concussion, a fractured skull, and was under the influence of a drug the medical staff had never seen before. Luckily, it was similar to the date rape drug, and they were able to flush it out of Veronica’s system.
The nurses direct us to ICU where Veronica is being kept while she recovers from her ordeal. I don’t expect her to be awake when we arrive, and the nurse gives us each a stern glare as she says, “This visit needs to be very brief. The only reason we are allowing it is because the doctor feels having the people who saved her stop by would be good for her recovery.”
She means her mental recovery. Everyone in Veronica’s life has betrayed her. Her mother for giving her up and accepting money as a substitute. Her father for caring more about his reputation than his daughter’s wellbeing. Her stepmother—for lack of a better word for Darla—for plotting the kidnapping in the first place. Ed Haynes for actually kidnapping her and causing most of her injuries. And, of course, Will Catton for trying to kidnap her and also attempting to prostitute her out to his frat buddies. Unfortunately for Veronica, Mitchell and I are the best she’s got.
Mitchell assures the nurse we’re well aware of the severity of Veronica’s condition and that we only want to bring her the flowers he’s holding and wish her good luck. Naturally, Nurse Bossypants is taken by his smile and allows us in the room.
“Still flirting with everyone. You can’t help yourself, can you?” I ask, stepping around the hospital bed to the small table. I reach for the bouquet of flowers and place it on the table so Veronica will see them when she wakes up. I make sure the attached card is in view as well.
“Jealous I’m not flirting with you?” he asks.
“More like relieved.”
Veronica moans, and the machine next to her starts beeping. The nurse rushes in, flashing us a “What did you do?” look. I shrug, and Mitchell says, “I think she’s waking up,” in that innocent little boy voice he’s perfected.
Veronica’s eyelids flutter, and she falls back into a restful sleep. The nurse continues to monitor the screen.
“What’s going to happen to her?” I ask.
The nurse eyes me and then walks to the door. At first, I think she’s going to leave without answering me, but instead she closes the door over without clicking it shut. “Her father was here last night when she was brought in. He called a woman.”
Becky? It would make sense to tell Veronica’s mother she was okay.
“It was his sister.” She nods to Veronica. “Her aunt. Apparently, she lives in Philadelphia.”
“Near where Veronica goes to school,” I say.
The nurse nods. “I guess they’re pretty close. She’s going to let Veronica live with her so she doesn’t have to stay on campus.” She doesn’t say “or live with her father anymore,” but Mitchell and I both know what she means. His picture has been all over the media, along with news of his multiple affairs. He’ll be busy trying to salvage his reputation, and that will leave no time to take care of Veronica.
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask the nurse. My hand finds Veronica’s, and I can’t resist.
“Aunt Tara, what made you want to become a nurse?” Veronica asks, sipping her coffee in the quaint little café outside of campus.
“I just like helping people, I guess. Why do you ask?”
“I haven’t decided on a major yet.” Veronica shrugs one shoulder. “Daddy paid for me to come here, and I feel like I should do something with my life. I don’t want to live in his shadow forever.”
Aunt Tara leans forward and places her hand on Veronica’s. “Well, we’re always looking for volunteers at the hospital. If you want to stop by and check it out, I’d be happy to put your name on the list.”
“Really? Do you think I’d make a good nurse?”
“The question is do you think you would?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I do know you do more good than Daddy’s money ever will.”
“Piper?” Mitchell places his hand on my arm.
When I open my eyes, the nurse is gone. “Her aunt is a nurse. I think that means Veronica will be okay.”
Mitchell smiles. “Good. Now how about we go check in with your dad? He said to meet him at your office.”
“He’s calling a meeting at my office instead of the station? That can’t be good.” He usually reserves that for reaming me out for not following police protocol, which I neglected to do multiple times on the Castell case. “I guess we better not keep him waiting then.”
When we pull up to my office, Dad is standing in the doorway of Marcia’s Nook, chatting with Marcia. As soon as he sees us, he says goodbye to her and starts our way.
I give Marcia a wave before unlocking my office and letting Dad and Mitchell inside. I toss my purse into the bottom drawer of my desk. “Okay, Dad, what did I do wrong this time?”
“Are debriefings like this typical?” Mitchell asks. “Just for future reference.”
“There’s something I need to talk to you both about.” Dad motions for us to sit.
Mitchell narrows his eyes at me, clearly thinking I have some clue what this is about. I do have a hunch, but Dad’s being careful not to touch me, taking a seat on the opposite side of my desk and leaning back in his chair, so I can’t be certain I’m right.
Dad fixes his navy blue striped tie even though it’s perfectly straight already. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how you two would get along together. You’re both... How do I put this delicately?”
“Total pains in your ass?” Mitchell asks with a smirk.
Dad chuckles. “Well, one of you is, but I’m not telling which one.”
Mitchell and I point to each other at the same time, making Dad laugh again.
“The point is,” Dad says, “you surprised me. You got over whatever it was you didn’t like about each other, and you became partners.”
Mitchell and I misjudged each other at first. I thought his constant flirting with anything in a skirt meant he was a womanizer. I was wrong. He’s a sensitive guy who missed growing up with his mother to teach him about women. And he thought I was... Well, I’m not sure exactly. Maybe he didn’t trust that my visions were real and needed to see for himself. Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore.
“We’re all a team, Dad,” I say, reaching across the desk for his hand.
He’s too smart, though. He shakes his finger in the air in front of him. “Not going to happen, pumpkin. Your old man knows you too well.”
“Okay, then hurry up and tell us what this is about. You’re kind of freaking me out. I’m used to you just coming out and saying what’s on your mind. You’re beating around the bush. It’s unnerving.”
Dad sighs and places his hands in his lap. “Your mother thinks it’s time for me to retire. She’s been asking me to for years, but this time I think she’s right.” The sorrow in his eyes tells a different story.
“Are you sure this is really what you want?” I ask, not completely blindsided by the news like Mitchell, judging by the way his jaw has dropped. I’m sure he didn’t anticipate losing his partner so soon. They’ve only officially worked one case together.
Dad spins the wedding band on his ring finger. “I don’t think I’ll ever truly be ready to hang up my badge, but I’m tired. Look how many cases I’ve brought you in on over the past few years.”
The numbers have been increasing drastically, but I always suspected he was doing it for my benefit, helping me build my career. Dad’s done things like that since I was a kid.
“And this case...” He huffs. “Walking in the rain for hours on end, my feet are killing me, and I soaked them in Epsom salt for two hours last night when I got home.”
How long the case took is more my fault than his. The police were looking in the wrong direction while Mitchell and I questioned Darla Castell. They went east, while Ed took Veronica into the west woods. So many of my visions had water in them. I’m sure Dad thought that meant they should look in the woods that eventually lead to the Delaware River.
“The point is, I think you two would make great partners.”
“I’m not a cop, Dad. I’m a PI.”
Mitchell leans forward in his chair, his arms resting uncomfortably on his knees. He looks like he’s about to address a child, not the man who taught him everything he knows. “Tom, is this why you finally agreed to take me on as your partner? You wanted to see if I could play nice with Piper?”
“I’m her father. I couldn’t leave her stranded without a good detective on her side. Not everyone at the station believes in Piper’s abilities. You know that as well as I do.” Dad turns to me. “But we both know Piper is the real deal.”
If only I was better at interpreting my visions. The information I need is always there. Piecing it together can be like erecting an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower out of Mega Blocks.
“Why not just cut back to part-time? Or you could come work with me.” I perk up at that idea. “My office is plenty big enough for another desk. You could decide which cases you want to help out on and take vacation time whenever you want.”
Dad leans forward and places his hand on my desk. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he wants me to do. Read him. But he’s my father. I shouldn’t need a vision to make me understand this is what he wants.
I shake my head. “I get it. But if you ever get the itch to help out with a case, my offer stands.”
He smiles. “I appreciate that, pumpkin.” He stands up. “Now I’m off to tell the higher-ups. Wish me luck.”
I give him a hug, and Mitchell shakes his hand before he walks out of my office. I watch him get in his car and drive away. “I saw this coming, but it’s still weird to think I won’t be working cases with him anymore.”
“Don’t fret. You still have me.”
“Such a comforting thought,” I say, slumping back in my chair.
“Want to grab a coffee?” Mitchell motions over his shoulder to Marcia’s Nook.
“Yeah, I could go for a coffee.” I stand up and open my desk to retrieve my purse.
“On me. Leave your purse.”
I close the drawer. “I won’t say no to that.”
Mitchell steps outside and waits for me to lock the office door behind us. “So, does this mean I get to call you ‘pumpkin’ from now on?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.
Mitchell’s a great detective, but he’ll never replace my dad. No one could. “I’ll give you one guess what will happen if you do, and I don’t need a vision to foresee this one.”
He laughs. “No, I don’t think I need one either.”
Not right now at least. Not until we get our next case.
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