27

Amber waited until Jessica was asleep before tiptoeing back into the ICU. She pushed the button and waited for a nurse to buzz her in.

As she opened the door, the nurse asked, “Are you Amber?”

Amber nodded.

“He’s been asking for you.” The nurse led her back to Gary’s alcove.

Except for the light flashing on the pain med machine and the screen monitoring his vitals above his head, the room was dark. Gary was pale and still. She silently crossed the room and sat her purse in the chair. She stroked his forehead. He was warm. Alive. Thank the Goddess.

“Gary, honey, I’m here.” She scooted the chair closer to the bed, moved her purse, and sat down.

“Amber,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She forced a smile. She had to be strong for his sake. “You’ll be okay. You’ll see.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her Rescue Remedy and another vial, small and brown. She administered a few drops of RR under her own tongue, then set the blue vial on the bed table. “Open your mouth.”

Like a baby bird, he opened. She counted out ten drops.

“What is it? Tastes like brandy.”

“That’s because it is brandy, laced with arnica for healing.”

“You’re so sweet.” He reached for her hand.

“When you recover, we should go to the ocean together.” She lifted his hand to her lips. It was so cold it made her shiver.

“I’d like that.” He gave her a weak smile. “Seeing you is the best medicine.”

She wanted to ask him about the poison, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. She glanced around to make sure the nurse wasn’t nearby. “You shouldn’t have told Jessica.”

“I had to.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want you taking the blame.”

“But you’ll go to jail.” She couldn’t help it. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the sleeve of her sweater.

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” He had a sad, faraway look in his eyes.

“Don’t say that.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. He smelled vinegary, like he was fermenting. She tapped the air just above his head to balance his energy. She was determined to heal him even if it meant he went to prison for life. Given his mental state, maybe he would get a lighter sentence. Maybe he’ll get out early on good behavior. I can wait for him.

“Richard Schilling was messing with your refugee girls. Something snapped.” Gary sighed. “First Julie . . .” His voice trailed off.

“You were right. I should have listened.” She nodded and continued tapping. “He was a creep.”

“Schilling mines killed my grandfather and my father.” He pushed the control for the electric bed and sat up. “And then that bastard took Julie.”

“I know.” Even though her arm was getting tired, she continued her energy work, encouraged he was sitting up. In the past, whenever she’d asked about his sister, Julie, he always got so upset.

“When I heard the bastard was taking advantage of those girls, I had to stop him.” He gazed at her with sad eyes.

“Yeah.” She dropped her tired hands into her lap. “I have a confession.” Amber wrapped a lock of hair around her index finger. “I added a clause to his VIPER agreement with the Center.”

“What?” Gary smiled.

“For the refugees. I put it in his pledge.” She rubbed her hands together.

“Clever girl.” Gary held out his hand and she took it.

She bounced up and down in the chair. “He signed it.”

“Maybe his money can go some distance in repairing the damage he’s done.” Gary caressed her hand.

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it—tubes, tape, and all. “It’s not fair.” She started crying. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Don’t cry.” He took her hand in both of his. “I’m tougher than I look.”

She giggled through her tears.

He fell back against the pillow and closed his eyes. “Maybe I should sleep now.”

She nodded, sniffling. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“You get some rest, too.” He gazed at her again, tears pooling in his eyes. “I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too.” When she bent down and kissed his lips, a tremor ran up her spine. He was so cold. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a small zip-lock full of tea bags. “These are warming. Have the nurse make you a cup.”

Still holding her gaze, he nodded. A tear rolled down his cheek.

She dabbed his cheek with a tissue, then kissed the same spot. “Rest now, lovey.” She smiled at him. “I’ll be back with Twisted Twix.”

As she left his room, she thought of their first night together, mashing Twix bars, pretzels, and chocolate syrup into a treat all their own. She’d beat him at chess, and that’s when he’d asked her to stay the night.

She tiptoed back into the waiting room. Jessica was sound asleep, curled up in one of the recliners. Amber slid into the recliner next to her. She reached into her purse for some calming lozenges and a square of chocolate. She’d run out of RR.

She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to the universe. What will I do if he doesn’t make it? What will happen if he does? He would go to prison or worse. She shuddered. Richard Schilling was a horrible man, but did Gary need to kill him? And what about the others? Whatever he’d done, she couldn’t help loving him.

The lozenge wasn’t working. Her heart was racing. Panic attack. She tapped the air, remotely realigning Gary’s chi. She envisioned him surrounded by healing energy. She tried to focus all of her anxiety into willing him better.

After another hour twisting and turning, trying to get comfortable and calm down, Amber unzipped the secret compartment in her purse and removed the prescription bottle. She hated to resort to pharmaceuticals, but she was desperate. She glanced over at Jessica, twisted the top, and tapped out a little purple football, then another for good measure. She popped them into her mouth and held them under her tongue. The familiar sweetness calmed her, and she imagined the powerful drug coursing through her blood like rays of sunshine through the leaves of a magnolia tree.

Someone was shaking her shoulder.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Amber sat up in the chair. “What’s happening?” When she opened her eyes, she felt a wave of nausea. She needed more sleep.

“Amber?”

Her vision came into focus and she recognized the nurse speaking to her.

“Gary,” Amber whispered. Her hand flew to her mouth, and terror pierced her heart.

“I’m so sorry.” The nurse squatted down so she was at eye level. “His heart stopped. We couldn’t revive him.”

“No,” Amber whimpered. “No, no, no . . .” She broke down sobbing.

Jessica pushed cold scrambled eggs around on her plate. The hospital cafeteria was in the basement and felt like a tomb. The fluorescent lights were too bright. They made her head hurt, and she had a painful crick in her neck from sleeping in that chair.

Amber looked even worse than Jessica felt. Her eyes had been swollen and red from crying ever since the nurse gave them the news.

“I loved him . . .” Amber whimpered, putting her head in her hands. Her auburn curls fell down around her arms like a shroud.

“I’m so sorry.” Jessica scooted her chair next to her friend and slung an arm around her. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. Dad, Mike, Nick . . . She sighed. So much grief. So much loss. Once more, she thought of Nietzsche. “To live is to suffer. To survive is to find meaning in the suffering.”

How do people go on? She thought of Amira, drawing pictures of her bombed-out house and dead neighbors. Maybe Nietzsche was right. Maybe art makes the suffering bearable.

“It’s Mr. Schilling’s fault!” Amber lifted her tearstained face and pounded on the table. “The mines. The girls.”

Poor Amber. Jessica watched her melt into another puddle of tears. “What do you mean?”

Amber just shook her head and bawled.

Jessica offered her a piece of chocolate. “Come on, Amber, you’ve got to eat something.”

Amber shook her head again.

“Do you want to visit his family before we head back to Chicago?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up.” Jessica wanted to get rid of Amber long enough to call Detective Cormier and pass along Gary’s confession. She still needed to figure out how he’d done it.

Almost as if she’d heard Jessica’s thoughts, Amber said, “We can’t tell anyone about what Gary did. It would kill his mom. She’s suffered enough.” She sniffled into a sodden tissue.

“But the murder investigation . . . I should tell Detective Cormier.”

“No!” Amber was trembling. “Please don’t.” Her shoulders were shaking again, and she broke down sobbing. “Please,” she pleaded. She had a look of sheer panic in her eyes.

“Okay, okay.” Jessica put her arms around her soggy friend. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise me!” Amber raised her face and stared into Jessica’s eyes. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

Jessica bit her lip. How could she promise? She had to tell the detective about Gary. Even if Richard and Chrissy were bad people, did they deserve to be poisoned? And the Countess, Lolita’s grandmother—she was wonderful. Even if that had been an accident . . . what a waste. She stared into her desperate friend’s bloodshot eyes and took a breath.

“I promise.” She shook her head. There were no good choices here. Right now, she had to take care of her friend.

“Thank you.” Amber slumped back into the chair.

Gary’s childhood home was a clapboard cottage in the suburbs of Morgantown. His mother came to the door wearing a baby blue floral muumuu. The curve of her wide back spoke volumes about the burdens she’d carried in her life. Her face lit up when she saw Amber.

“Mercy me.” She held her hands together in supplication. “Thank God, you came. I was just getting ready to go to the hospital.”

A lump formed in Jessica’s throat. Hasn’t anyone called her yet?

When Amber broke into tears, Gary’s mother’s eyes widened. Her face went as white as the milkweed growing around the front stoop. “What is it, girl? What happened?”

Amber shook her head and wrapped her arms around the stunned woman.

Jessica felt like a third wheel. She took a step backwards and nearly fell off the porch. Watching the two women cling to each other brought tears to her eyes.

After a few more minutes of shock and sobs, Gary’s mother—Viola—invited them in for coffee. Even Amber took a chipped ceramic mug and sipped black coffee as they sat around a small Formica table in the back corner of the kitchen.

The three women stared at each other in silence. The bitterness of the strong coffee seemed appropriate. Jessica glanced around the room. The stained linoleum and dented refrigerator had seen better days. So had Gary’s mom. To avoid the smell of bacon fat and sour mop water, Jessica held her coffee cup under her nose.

Viola disappeared into the bathroom. She sounded like a goose honking. She reappeared, carrying a box of tissues, and fell back into her chair. “Gary was a good boy.”

Amber nodded. “He was special.”

“He was a good boy,” Viola repeated, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I know God has his reasons, but now I ain’t got no one left.” She broke down.

Amber moved her chair closer and put her arm around Viola. Heads touching, they both bawled.

Jessica stared into her coffee cup, trying not to cry.

“Richard Schilling is dead,” Amber said, finally. She wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve.

“Richard Schilling . . .” Viola’s mouth hung open. She obviously knew him.

Jessica’s mind was racing a mile a minute. How could Viola Calloway know Nick’s dad?

“He owns the mine,” Viola said. She got up and leaned on the stove, turning her back to them. “I worked in the office.” She held on to the edges of the stove like her life depended on it. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but he would visit the mine every year . . . and when he did, he’d make me go out with him. He threatened to fire me. And Frank, too.” Like a zombie, she slowly walked over to the coffee maker, picked up the pot, and topped off their cups.

“When I got pregnant, everyone thought the baby was Frank’s.” She put the pot back on the coffee maker and shuffled back to her chair. “But Gary didn’t look anything like Frank.”

Whoa. Jessica picked at her jacket. How could anyone be sure who their father was? How can anyone be sure of anything? Even motherhood wasn’t certain anymore. She thought of last year and that wacko genetic scientist implanting college coeds’ eggs in rich women’s bodies. She cringed. She still couldn’t believe she’d been one of those college coeds.

Still, biology wasn’t destiny. And blood wasn’t love.

Viola took a sip from her cup. “I could have put up with it to save my job, but when that dirty bastard took Julie . . .” Her voice trailed off. “She was only sixteen, for God’s sake.” Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. “Julie insisted she wanted to go. And the cops did nothing to find her. They thought I was hysterical and she’d just run away. Of course they’d think that. Mr. Schilling was filthy rich . . . the biggest employer in town. The cops wouldn’t go after him. They didn’t care . . .”

Jessica felt sick. What had Nick’s father done to this woman? To this family? Her hand was trembling as she picked up her cup.

Viola pointed to a dime-sized pucker of skin on her arm. “He smoked cigars.”

Jessica shuddered. Trying to control her own rage, she asked, “Who’s Julie?”

“Julie is my only daughter. Gary’s younger sister.” Viola’s gaze was searing. “Richard took her four years ago, and I haven’t seen her since.”

The trip home was somber. Jessica drove eight hours straight while Amber slept in the back seat.

Should I call Detective Cormier? Would it break my promise to give him a hint? She thought of Kant’s classic example of lying to protect someone from being killed. Do I betray my friend and solve the murder, or do I keep my promise and hide the truth?

With Gary dead, it wasn’t a question of bringing a killer to justice or locking him up to prevent other murders. But keeping quiet would leave Lolita without answers—without closure—about her grandmother. Is that okay?

On the other hand, the world was rid of a horrible man who’d exploited the vulnerable. That was a good thing. Isn’t that justice?

“Can we drop off my English paper on campus?” Amber was awake. She rubbed her eyes, then fished a big white envelope out of her purse.

Jessica glanced over at her friend. “Sure.”

Amber stuffed her paper into the envelope. She was about to lick the seal—

“Wait!” Jessica screamed. “Don’t lick that!” She nearly hit the car next to her. She slammed on the brakes and skidded onto the shoulder of the highway, gravel flying and tires screeching. Jessica’s heart galloped. “Let me see that envelope.” She held out her hand.

Amber gave her a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”

“Give it to me!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” Amber held it out.

“That’s how he did it.” Jessica snatched the envelope and sniffed the seal. The acrid odor assaulted her nose. “He put the frog juice on the envelopes. When the donors licked them, they got poisoned.”

“What?” Amber stared at her, mouth hanging open.

“Gary killed the VIPER donors using these envelopes. That’s how he administered the poison.” Jessica shook her head. “That’s how he did it.”

“No.” Amber was trembling. “I could have . . . I was just trying to get rid of the old envelopes from the office so they wouldn’t go to waste.”

Jessica nodded. “You would have died.” Holding the envelope by the corner, she carefully set it on the console between the two seats. “I’ve got to deliver this to Detective Cormier.”

“But you promised!”

“I’m sorry, but this is evidence.”

“What about my English paper?” Amber sucked on her hair.

Jessica scowled as she gingerly lifted the envelope and shook her friend’s homework out onto the floor. “We’ve got to take this to Detective Cormier. Now.”

“I can’t.” Amber’s eyes welled up. “Please. Can you drop me off?” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t betray Gary. I loved him.”

“I’ll take your car and bring it back later.”

Amber nodded. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“I’ll turn in your English paper on my way back.” Jessica gave her friend a weak smile. “You should get some rest.”

Jessica knew the questions buzzing in her brain wouldn’t let her rest for a long time. She looked over her shoulder and pulled back onto the highway.