Chapter Twenty-Three

She sniffed back the tide of threatening tears. The hospital room reeked of disinfectant. The whir of the machines keeping Joe alive hummed low or beeped an occasional alarm. The nurses, probably weary by now, checked on him occasionally.

Still in her silver gown from the night before, Beverly stood next to the only chair in the room, which was occupied by her mother. Reggie silently wept as she waited and watched Joe—his battered and bloody face contorted beyond recognition.

Fury consumed her once more. How did this happen? Salem wasn’t a dangerous town. Joe could handle most anything that came his way. And why did this happen? He was just an old guy doing his job.

She paced the little room. She needed to do something. Something to get her mind off the wait. They hadn’t heard from the doctors. They had no idea if Joe was even going to wake up. The only thing they heard so far was he was breathing on his own, and the nurse seemed to think that was a miracle. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. Len, her head of security, quietly walked in.

“Just finished talking with the police.” His mouth tightened. She swallowed her fear as Len said, “There were no witnesses and, from what the detective can tell, it was a random mugging but when Mr. Stanly fought back, the assailants made it worse for him.”

“They’re blaming Joe for protecting himself?”

“No. They just think he might have hurt his attackers, so they retaliated even more.”

“You said ‘attackers,’ plural?”

“Yeah, the cop said there was no way Joe Stanly lost to just one guy. There had to be at least two people to bring him down. He has a good reputation among the cops here,” Len said. “They’re putting every resource on finding whoever is responsible.”

“That’s something then,” she whispered. She didn’t want her mother to hear them.

“Ms. Winslow, sorry to interrupt,” a woman in scrubs said as she walked into the room. “I’m Doctor Sherman.”

Finally, Bev thought. Some answers. “What can you tell me, Doctor?”

“I understand the patient has no next of kin?”

“That’s right. Me and Ma are the only people he calls family.”

“He also doesn’t have health insurance…” the doctor said.

She gripped the side of the chair her mother sat in. “We can afford whatever you think he needs. I’ll see to it.” Her mother rose from the chair to hold Bev’s hand and listen.

Dr. Sherman flipped the page on her clipboard and read. “The patient sustained blunt-force trauma to the abdomen. His vitals indicate no ruptures or internal bleeding, which is good.”

Bev sighed. Thank God.

“However,” the doctor said as she flipped another page, “Mr. Stanly has a broken wrist and several broken ribs. You can see from his face, he was beaten badly but sustained only one facial fracture. The X-rays indicate this is not his first broken nose.”

Bev eyes filled. “Is there anything else?”

“Nothing we can see. No brain swelling and nothing to indicate cognitive impairment. He’ll wake up when he wants to, and he’ll be in a world of pain.” The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose, warding off obvious fatigue. “He’s lucky and clearly he’s a fighter. I’d caution you against expecting too much from him. He’s tough, but he’s older. He needs to take his time recuperating. Other than the obvious injuries, Mr. Stanly is in great shape for someone his age. If he doesn’t push himself too hard, he’ll be around a long time yet.” The doctor pivoted toward the door way.

“Doctor, how long will he stay here?”

“He can leave after he wakes up and passes our neuro evals for a twenty-four-hour period. I don’t see him here beyond tomorrow night. You’ll want him recovering somewhere with twenty-four-hour help. The first week will be brutal,” Dr. Sherman answered and turned to the door.

Reggie finally spoke. “Thank you, Doctor.” Sherman nodded silently and walked out.

“What do you want to do now?” Bev asked.

Reggie sniffed back fresh tears. “I’m going to sit here until he wakes up. Then, I’ll get him what he feels like eating. Then I’ll go from there.”

She held her mother close. “I’ll sit with you. But I need to return some calls. My phone has been vibrating like crazy. After that, I’ll call Ms. Garrett and make arrangements to transfer Joe up to the house in Maine.”

Reggie pulled out of the hug. “He won’t like that.”

“That's too damned bad, isn't it? I have no idea what happened or why he was beaten like this.” Bev shuddered and rubbed her temple. “Until we know this was a random mugging, you two need to be careful. I can’t think of anywhere safer right now.”

“What about Atlantic Charters?” Reggie asked.

“Pre-season starts in a month. I'll hire someone to answer the phones and keep the office occupied. If I need to, I can hire someone to drive the boat and use interns to add the commentary. It’s not much different than the original plan. We can dip into some of the savings to cover costs.”

Her mother snorted. “You’re a billionaire, Bevie.”

“Atlantic Charters is mine. Winslow Holdings has nothing to do with it. I can’t let my two lives bleed into one another.”

Reggie looked down at Joe. “I’d say it’s a little late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself. You have no idea if this has something to do with Reginald’s stupid will or not. Personally, I don’t like the coincidence.”

“I don’t either. Which is why I’m asking you and Joe to move into the big house in Maine until we sort this out. I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.”

“We’ll do that, sweetheart. I’d expect you’d do the same to put my mind at ease.”

“Thanks, Ma.” She turned to go make her calls.

“Oh, and, sweetie?” her mother called out.

“Yes.”

“You can say you don’t want your two lives bleeding into one another, but you’re being stupid.”

“How am I being stupid?”

“This is your life now. The sooner you realize it, the better for everyone. It isn’t like you to let things go, and you can’t keep juggling two lives for a year. It’s time to grow up and face facts.”

“What do I need to face? I’m dealing with it,” She gripped the two phones in her hands.

“You haven’t accepted it.”

“Accepted what, for God’s sake?” She wasn’t being as gentle with her mother as she should.

“Whether you like it or not, you are a Winslow. It’s time to start acting like it.” Her mother still didn’t look at her. Beverly said nothing. Her mother was right. She sighed heavily as she walked into the hallway to make her calls. Her phone began to vibrate again.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“I can’t talk. Joe was mugged and he’s in the hospital.”

“Jesus! I’m coming down there.”

“No, we’re all fine. His prognosis is good, and he should be discharged tomorrow night. I’m having him transferred up to Maine.” She wiped her eye of the tear that broke free. She couldn’t collapse right now. “Thanks, though.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Call Tracy. I want to know if the FBI thinks this has anything to do with the threats against me.”

“Of course. What’s your plan now?”

“I’m going to make arrangements for Joe, then I’m going to find someone to keep Atlantic Charters running. I have a few friends at the marina who know the business. I’ve got to concentrate on other things right now.”

“I’ll call Tracy and get that rolling.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Just promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Be careful.”

She clicked off the call. Immediately, her phone began to vibrate again. “Beverly Winslow.”

A mechanical-sounding voice echoed on the line. “I have a message for you.”

Her stomach dropped. She glanced at the caller ID, but it showed Unknown Caller. “Who is this? What do you want?”

“Your association with Finn Callahan needs to end unless you want another person you care about hurt.”

“What does that mean?” Her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t catch her breath.

“It means we went easy on Joe Stanly. We won’t be so nice when we get our hands on your mother.”

****

She sat on the floor in the hallway, her breath coming in short, ragged gulps. The line went dead after the threat, and Bev could only brace herself against the wall before sliding to the floor, gown and all. It was as if the world had stopped turning for the past few minutes. Then a horrible realization hit her.

Joe had been hurt because of her. Now she could sit here, paralyzed with panic, or she could take control, like her mother had said. First thing she had to do was get Joe and her mother to safety. She looked at her phone, dialed.

“Ms. Garrett, it’s Beverly Winslow. I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but it’s an emergency.”

After explaining what had happened, she wasn’t surprised when Irene Garrett answered with, “What can I do to help?”

“Thank you. I need you to arrange medical transport for Joe Stanly from Salem General to the house in Maine. He may not be discharged until tomorrow night, but I’d like to see if we can put a rush on it. If it takes having a trauma doctor fly with him, I want him out of this hospital in two hours. He can be evaluated in Maine.

“All right, next?”

“Please call Conroy and notify him Joe and my mother will be arriving today in a helicopter. He’ll need to make arrangements. Then can you please find the best twenty-four-hour medical care available and bring them to the big house? They’ll need to prep a room. Joe’s doctor here is Dr. Sherman. I’ll sign the release and leave the rest to you.”

She took a breath, swallowed. “Finally, please call Liam Gallagher.” Bev listened to Ms. Garrett and then answered her question. “Yes, the probate attorney. Tell him Finn Callahan recommended him. Tell him to be in my office tomorrow morning if he wants the job. I’m firing Finn Callahan.”