HEATHER DIDN’T LOOK happy about Tom’s returning her to Bianca’s Bed-and-Breakfast. He’d seen it before. Some civilians, once involved in police work, wanted to see the case through to the end. He didn’t think that was Heather’s issue, though. No, she probably wanted to find out what her real connection to Rachel was.
In his mind, and probably Heather’s, there was no doubt.
Somehow, Heather and Rachel had to be related. Since Heather’s mother couldn’t have children, it went back to Diane Ramsey. Unfortunately, every time Tom tried to get close to solving their kinship, something got in the way: car accidents, deaths and even cookie robberies.
“I can meet you at the hospital,” Heather offered. “It’s no problem. I can help with Abigail. I’m good with children.”
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said, her face pale in the moonlight. Tom couldn’t get over the resemblance now that he had them together, but while Heather looked tired and apprehensive, Rachel looked slightly ill and wholly shell-shocked. In truth, the two women couldn’t be more different, not just with respect to actions, either, but to goals. Heather was looking for family ties; Rachel had always been tied to a family best left alone. Rachel probably thought Heather was one more problem.
“But—” Heather began.
Rachel simply shook her head.
“I’ve already called social services,” Tom mentioned. He’d also radioed for backup. Both Oscar and Leann were on the way. He strayed from procedure so that Rachel could visit Richard in the hospital.
It was a humane consideration.
“Call me,” Heather pleaded. “I don’t care what time.” For a moment, he thought she might argue further, but in the end, she’d simply given him a tight smile and exited the SUV. Good. He was getting too used to her help and her company, and with Rachel Ramsey in custody he needed to focus on her—only her.
The Sarasota Falls Hospital used to be the size of a large Victorian home. Then, a little over ten years ago, the old munitions factory had been turned into a tristate Alzheimer’s care center and the town suddenly needed a bigger hospital, not just for the Alzheimer’s patients, but for the families that moved here because they’d placed loved ones in the center. And new jobs had been created, so another wave of people poured in.
Tom remembered that the police force had added a new man about that time—him.
He pulled into a parking space near the emergency room entrance. An empty spot was reserved for the police. He flung open the driver’s door before the key was out of the SUV’s ignition and quickly opened the back door. Abigail jumped down, clearly intrigued by being out so late. Rachel exited from her side of the vehicle.
She’d changed in the five years since she’d been so instrumental in Max’s death. Gone was the high school kid. In front of him was a thin woman, too pale, who looked older than she should have.
Grimly, he guided her to the hospital’s front doors, led her inside and nodded to the admissions nurse. “Chief,” the woman said. She barely looked up, no expression on her face, not even a raised eyebrow. His officers had been told to stop by and check up on Welborn often. She probably thought Rachel was Heather.
After all, he’d been escorting Heather all around town. How could anyone mistake the two? Rachel was definitely taller, and Heather was definitely softer, kinder, engaging.
“What is that smell?” Abigail stopped, tugged on Rachel’s hand and stood on tiptoes looking at the nurse as if she were to blame. Rachel caressed the top of Abigail’s head and said, “It’s just the way a hospital smells. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong.”
Startled, the nurse looked from Abigail, to Rachel, to Tom, and then regained her professionalism and composure, and declared, “No children after nine.”
“This is a special case,” Tom returned, getting Rachel and Abigail past the first patient rooms before the nurse could protest further.
He heard the hospital doors opening behind him and the nurse greeted Leann by her first name, then asked, “Who’s with Chief Riley?” Sometimes his only female officer had a hard time putting forth her cop persona because she was related to half the town.
“Just one more day in the life of a police officer,” Leann replied glibly. A moment later, she caught up with him, a half smile on her face. It twitched just a bit when she saw Rachel and Abigail. “Hey, Chief.”
“Glad you could come.” Tom kept it professional, guiding the whole troop to Richard’s room. A few times, Rachel slowed, looking like she might collapse. All it took was Tom clearing his throat for her to step up. She was probably half-afraid he’d change his mind and take her directly to the station.
Abigail didn’t falter even as they passed an elderly woman in a wheelchair with a doll clasped in her arms. Abigail wrinkled her nose but had better manners than some adults and didn’t complain, just tucked closer to her mother.
Richard’s room, in ICU, was the last one on the left. A chair was in the hall. Tom had sat on it for more than an hour this morning. Rachel, acting more like the girl he remembered, uttered an “oh” at the sight of Richard hooked up to so many machines. She said “oh” again and pushed past Tom to enter the room, immediately taking a seat and grasping Richard’s hand.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know. This is all my fault. All my fault.”
Tom swallowed, trying not to think about Max, who’d died on the scene, no hospital stay for him, no chance to say goodbye, no opportunity for Rachel to say “I’m so sorry.” He tried not to think about Lucille Calloway.
“Chief, I can stay with them,” Leann said, “if you have other matters to attend to.”
“No, I’m fine,” he answered.
Abigail stood silently beside her mother. After a moment, she climbed into Rachel’s lap and patted Richard on the arm. Then she started spewing grown-up platitudes in a child’s voice. “He’ll be okay. I talked to God on the way over here. Papa will be just fine. Okay, Mommy?”
“Five more minutes,” Tom said. “Then we need to head to the station.”
“Thank you,” Rachel responded. Not what he expected. He felt his cheeks going red as the ire rose in his body. He didn’t want Rachel to be nice or polite. He wanted her to feel the hurt that she’d caused. She’d been partly responsible for Max’s death and—
“Chief, go down to the waiting room. I can handle the situation here.” Leann actually nudged him toward the door, a look on her face he’d not seen before.
“I need to talk to Rachel.” Tom took two steps and then stood just outside the hospital room’s doorway, where he could still see in at the scene unfolding.
“You need to have the right frame of mind to do it.” Leann said what Tom already knew. He knew he’d been waiting five years to talk to Rachel.
“We all know how much you loved Max,” Leann said softly. “Now is not the time, and probably you shouldn’t be the one to oversee the talking.”
“Who else have you called?”
“Lucas.”
“When will he be here?”
Leann stepped farther into the hallway, still speaking softly. “Lucas’s on his way. Oscar’s dealing with a fight between a couple of neighbors. Did you call social services about Abigail? Far as I’m aware, since Diane Ramsey’s death, there’s no relative nearby, unless you know something I don’t.”
“I did, but I’ll check with them. Right now there’s no tie between Heather and Rachel except for looks.”
“That’s a mighty powerful tie,” Leann said.
Tom didn’t want to respond. If the two weren’t related, good. If they were, his biggest problem would be personal and not professional. He liked Heather, genuinely liked her.
Leann raised an eyebrow—she was getting awfully good at that—and went back into the room. He headed for the waiting room, luckily empty, and started making calls. By the time he finished the final conversation ten minutes later, he was feeling more in control.
Leann met him in the hallway. “What about Abigail?”
“Social services will have someone here in the morning.”
“And what about tonight?”
“Abigail can sleep in the cell with her mother.”
Leann nodded. It wouldn’t be the first time a kid had stayed with a parent overnight in the Sarasota Falls jail, but it had been a long time.
“It’s what we’d do for anyone in this situation. Safest place.” Tom wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Leann or himself.
“Bianca’s registered with social services,” Leann reminded him.
“Heather’s staying there. Until we know if there’s a connection between Heather and Rachel, it’s not prudent to put them together.”
“There’s no connection,” Rachel said, coming up to them, making Tom wish he’d closed the door and also wonder just how much she’d heard. “Until tonight, I’d never even known her name.”
“I stay with Mommy,” Abigail insisted, joining her mother. Then, she asked, “What’s a cell?”
Tom closed his eyes, exhaustion threatening to make its presence known. There was no perfect outcome for tonight’s scenario.
“Rachel,” Tom asked, “can I call one of your mother’s sisters?”
“No. They hated me.” She glanced at Abigail and her expression softened. “They didn’t get along with my mother. If you remember.” She looked Tom square in the face. “You tried to place me with them years ago. They didn’t want me. I’m not putting my daughter someplace she’s not wanted.”
“What’s a cell?” Abigail asked again.
“Let me call Bianca,” Leann suggested. “We can put Heather up in the Sarasota Grand Hotel. Now that Founder’s Day is over, they have rooms.”
“No, and Rachel, it’s been more than five minutes. It’s time to go.”
Rachel took Abigail’s hand. “Can we ask the nurse for an update?”
Leann’s cousin, Tom found out, was one of the night nurses and would be more than willing to give an update. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Rachel. “The doctor will be here in the morning, and he can tell you a lot more about Richard then.”
Though not uttered, the words if he makes it were clearly implied.
“The head wound is our biggest concern,” the nurse continued. “He had a CAT scan last night and unfortunately the swelling means the doctors cannot perform surgery yet.”
“That’s bad,” Rachel said.
“Usually.” The nurse smiled a little. “The good news is we see brain activity. So, the doctor’s hoping the swelling not only didn’t press near the brain stem but also stopped. Richard is scheduled for another CAT scan in the morning.”
Rachel blinked, hard, and then thanked the nurse. She walked toward the door, her shoulders stiff and determined. Abigail was at her side. “We’ll be back in the morning, right, Mommy?”
Rachel looked back at Tom.
“I’ll make it happen,” he promised.
It was almost midnight when they got to the police station, but judging by the cars in the parking lot, his officers were all here. This time, he really had Rachel Ramsey.
Tom walked through the entrance, Rachel in front of him, almost the same scenario as last week when he’d walked through the doors with Heather. He couldn’t help but compare the two. Heather with her freshness, her quest for answers and her outlook on life. Rachel was a pale copy of the girl she’d been. Quiet didn’t become her.
Shoot. This is what he’d waited for. The chance to bring Rachel Ramsey to her knees, hold her accountable for Max’s death, bring about justice. The little girl that clung to her mother’s hand made Tom feel sick at heart. So many lives affected by one stupid decision.
“Chief, you want me to take her into the interrogation room?” Lucas asked. He should be off duty, but he was here. A week ago, Tom would have been certain that Lucas was staying because of Max, but now Tom wasn’t so sure. Maybe his lieutenant was staying for Tom.
“No…yes, please do that. And read her her rights. I need to make a phone call.”
“Ma’am,” Lucas said to Rachel, “Officer Bailey will take…”
“Abigail,” Rachel answered.
“…Abigail to the break room. We’ve toys and some ice cream.”
“Ice cream!” Abigail’s eyes lit up. “I love ice cream.”
Every kid said the exact same thing. The only difference in today’s scenario was that most of the criminals Tom escorted into the jail protested their arrest, proclaimed their innocence. Rachel wasn’t doing that. She was eerily silent.
Lucas turned Abigail over to Leann while Tom went into his office and closed the door. The glass didn’t get him privacy. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d have done if he could have secluded himself. Put his head down, scream, cry. Instead, he turned on his computer and brought up the file on Rachel—no new entries except for a note about Heather’s arrest. Even though he knew the details by heart, Tom skimmed them again. The time line hadn’t changed: a convenience store was robbed, the cops were called, Max happened to be nearby. Jeremy Salinas apparently lost control of his vehicle and witnesses said that Max was close behind. Max got out of his cruiser. Rachel fell out of the passenger-side door, writhing on the ground, acting hurt. Max, Tom knew, only saw that a young person was in trouble, hurt, and he’d hurried to Rachel’s side. Jeremy shot him point-blank. Then, both Jeremy and Rachel ran off, stealing another car, and another, until they’d disappeared off the face of the earth.
Five years. It was a long time to hide.
Tom’s hand went to his phone, and he punched three numbers before he realized that he shouldn’t call Heather this late and until they knew more, he could not involve her. He hung up, still holding his phone and feeling a sense of emptiness.
A knock took Tom away from the memories, the truths, of that day.
“You ready?” Oscar queried. “I can do it if you don’t want to.”
No doubt Lucas could, Leann could, any cop Tom had worked with could.
“I’m ready.” On the way to the interrogation room, Tom stopped to check in on Leann and Abigail. They sat at one of the round tables. Leann was coloring in a book and telling the kid about all the different shades of red. Abigail had a half-eaten ice-cream cone in hand and was nodding off to sleep. It was going to be a long night and Tom didn’t know when he’d get the same opportunity—nodding off to sleep, not the ice cream.
When he got to the interrogation room, Rachel sat ramrod-straight, her hands on the table, her fingers twisting in nervousness. Her body had the classic get-me-out-of-here posture. Her eyes, however, told another story, one of defeat and hurt. Tom looked away for a moment. Then he sat down in a chair across from her, switched on the tape recorder and said, “You were made aware of your legal rights and chose to waive them?”
Rachel nodded.
“Please answer out loud.” Tom’s voice remained steady.
“I was. I do.”
“If you want a lawyer, we can call for one now.”
“I will want a lawyer, but not right this minute.” Her voice was strong, determined. Tom felt a tiny bit of respect. She was going to do the right thing.
He turned to Lucas. “Did you offer Ms. Ramsey some water?”
“I did,” Lucas replied. “She said she wasn’t thirsty.”
“Okay,” Tom said. “Rachel, just a minute ago, I checked on your daughter. Cute kid. Abigail’s happy with her ice cream and is almost asleep. How old is she?”
“Just turned five.” Rachel’s words were a little above a whisper.
“Kindergarten next year,” Lucas said. “Lots of fun.”
Rachel nodded. It made Tom think about all the fun Rachel would miss because she’d be serving a jail sentence instead of joining the parent–teacher organization.
“You realize,” Tom said, “that your guilt is not in question. We know that you were with Salinas that day and that you pretended to be hurt. We not only have it on tape thanks to a surveillance camera but we have an eyewitness.”
Rachel stopped fidgeting. Laid her hands flat on the table, rigid. She leaned forward, looking at Tom. “I’m so, so sorry about what happened to Officer Stockard. So, so sorry.”
For a moment, Tom thought she might reach across the table and take him by the hands. It required all his willpower not to move those hands, but to keep them steady on the table. Just another day, just another interrogation.
Her apology, though, got to him, not just the words but how much he wanted to forgive her. He cleared his throat and asked the details that had to start every interrogation: state your full legal name, date of birth. Ascertain the date and time of the altercation before finally asking the questions that might have important, terrible answers.
“Did you and Jeremy Salinas plan the robbery of the convenience store on Fifth and Main or was it spur-of-the-moment?”
“I didn’t plan anything. I just went along.”
“Were you aware of a plan by Jeremy Salinas to rob the convenience store on Fifth and Main or was it spur-of-the-moment?”
“I don’t think he planned it, no, not for that day at least. But I’m pretty sure the possibility of robbing it was something he’d considered.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because once it started to happen, he seemed to have every step planned.”
“You mean he had the weapon?”
“He always carried a weapon. We went into the convenience store often. He’d remarked a time or two that the afternoon clerk was a little lax.”
“Go ahead and tell us the events leading up to the robbery.”
Rachel tensed. “It was a Thursday. I’d not been to school all week. I woke up that morning about eleven. My mother was in bed, sound asleep. She usually woke up around three or four.”
That didn’t surprise Tom. Diane partied late into the night usually.
“Jeremy came by about noon.”
“Why weren’t you going to school?” Lucas asked.
Tom had almost forgotten Lucas was leaning against the wall to his left.
“I…I wasn’t feeling good.”
“Go on,” Tom urged.
“There was no food in the house. Not even bread. Usually we had bread. I knew I needed to eat. Jeremy said we’d go get some Twinkies or something at Little’s.”
“You never made it there,” Tom said. “I traced your whereabouts that day. You’re not on their camera.”
“That’s right. We didn’t make it there. I got sick. Jeremy had to pull over. Pissed him off.”
“So,” Lucas said, almost sounding relieved, “you really were sick, and that’s why you missed school.”
A bit of the old Rachel returned. She shot Lucas a look that suggested “be real” before continuing. “I threw up. He managed to pull over, so it wasn’t in the car or anything. That would have caused a problem.”
Unbidden, Tom wondered if something so simple as Jeremy Salinas driving off and leaving his girlfriend behind because she’d thrown up on his car would have changed how Max’s life ended.
“I didn’t want him mad at me.” Rachel couldn’t seem to keep her fingers still. “I told him I needed bread or crackers or something.”
“Crackers?” Lucas sounded incredulous.
Tom got the idea there was something Lucas had figured out that he hadn’t. Not as quickly, at least.
“I’d taken a home pregnancy test on Monday morning. I already knew what it would say. I was probably two months along. He was going to know sooner or later.”
“Abigail?” Lucas asked.
Rachel nodded. “I wish I hadn’t told him. He didn’t take it well. He got in the car and drove off. Leaving me on the side of the road. But he immediately came back. I jumped in before he could change his mind. He drove to that convenience store and we went in. I was only thinking crackers.”
Ten years. Tom Riley had been a cop ten years. And he’d never sat at an interrogation table unable to ask the questions. At the moment, all he could do was stare at her.
“I remember,” Rachel said, “that when we first walked in it was odd Jeremy headed for the checkout counter, instead of where crackers would be. I even started to pass him. Then I saw the gun.”
“Where was it?” Lucas asked.
“Pointing at the cashier, who immediately opened his register and started handing Jeremy money.”
“What did you do?”
“I was in shock.” She looked at Tom. “I’d done some stupid things. Heck, I’d shoplifted from that store, right in front of that clerk, too. I’m sure he’d seen me. But a gun? Never.”
Tom could only stare back at her, feeling a little shocked himself.
“Everything happened so fast. I was still reeling from telling him I was pregnant. I watched him rob that store and didn’t do or say anything. Almost every day, I wonder why I just didn’t hit the floor, cower, let him go off without me.”
Lucas gently nudged Rachel forward. “What happened next?”
“I actually grabbed a candy bar on our way out. Jeremy was running. I was behind him. We jumped into the car. I remember how hot I felt, and I stumbled. Then I was buckling in. Yes, putting on my seat belt, as if it was just another day, and he floored it. Wasn’t but two minutes and there was that cop car behind me.” Again, she looked at Tom. “I was relieved. I thought good, now this madness will stop.”
The interrogation room’s door opened, and Oscar came inside. He set down a glass of water in front of Rachel. “Just in case.” She took the glass, drained it in three long gulps and then put it down.
Oscar didn’t leave. Tom couldn’t muster the energy to ask him to. It didn’t matter. Rachel started again.
“Jeremy was in his Camaro. He’d souped it up, had a V-8. We could have left Officer Stockard in the dust.” Silence, heavy with interrupted dreams, hung in the room.
“The witnesses said it looked like Jeremy lost control of the car.”
“He did. He did lose control. We were at the last light before city limits. He wanted me to count the money, and I was crying. He asked me…he asked me if I thought there was enough money for an abortion.”
The story behind the crime. Never had Tom expected to feel sorry for Rachel. No, her actions had resulted in Max’s death.
“Then what?” Lucas asked.
“I couldn’t count. I was crying so hard the tears were choking me, running into my mouth and down my throat. Jeremy cussed at me, demanded I count the money, and I told him I wouldn’t have an abortion. His right hand flung out, hard, got me in the stomach. I was surprised more than hurt. Then he said I’d get an abortion. He’d see to it, and I got angry. He thought he could hit me! I hit him back, and he lost control of the car. We crashed into that pole and the cop was right behind us. Jeremy aimed the gun at me and told me to get out. I couldn’t move fast enough. I opened the door, fell out. That’s when Jeremy shot Max Stockard. Just a few feet from where I lay. And all I could think about was the baby.
“About Abigail.”