Try Not to Breathe, page 21
“Okay, can you at least tell me where she was going?”
Rachel lifted her hands in a shrug. “She didn’t say anything specific. Just that she had to go somewhere right away.”
“Where?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Damn it.”
“She can be really private, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Rachel’s mouth contorted. She looked away from Avery and then back at her. Then away again.
“What is it, Rachel?”
“Well . . . it’s . . .”
“Rachel. We’re dealing with serious stuff. Okay? This isn’t like getting in trouble for spiking the punch.”
“I totally did not do that.”
“Okay. Tell me anything else you know, and I’ll never mention the punch again.”
“Okay. So, I was worried about Anna. And whatever she was up to. So when she went to the bathroom, I looked at her phone. I snooped. It’s awful, but she had a map called up. Directions to some random town. A place called Rydell.”
“Rydell? Why was she going there?”
“I have no idea. Don’t tell Anna I snooped. She’ll be so pissed.”
“Rydell.” Avery wanted to shrug as well. “What’s out that way?”
“Well,” Rachel said, “I know Dead River Cave is. It’s supposed to be haunted by the ghosts of Native Americans and Union soldiers and stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that. I also know that it’s the part of the state that grows the most marijuana.” Avery stood to go, muttering under her breath, “Maybe Anna just has a craving for some good Kentucky weed before she goes home.”
50
Avery’s footsteps echoed down the hallway of the hospital.
Charlie’s room was on the third floor of the east wing, the cardiac care center. Everything felt hushed in that section of the hospital. Less chaos, fewer beeping machines and monitors. It was as if the hospital staff tried to keep everything still and calm so as not to startle the patients with the weakest hearts.
Charlie rested in a private room, a thin blanket pulled up to his chin. The TV, which was bolted to the wall above the closet, played a news program. A rehash of the events in the park with special emphasis given to the shots fired. Charlie’s hands rested on top of the blanket, holding the remote control.
He looked over when she stopped in the open doorway. “Hey, champ. I’m scanning the crowd, but I don’t see you.”
Avery hadn’t thought about what it would be like to see Charlie in a hospital bed. On the way over, she had worried about Charlie’s health, felt her pulse rate increase when he said he wasn’t able to leave yet but needed to be held overnight for observation.
When she saw him in the bed, with the hospital gown on and the monitors hooked up to his body, emotion surged inside of her. It caught in her throat, and she stayed in the doorway, swallowing a time or two in order to be able to get any words out.
“What is it?” he asked. “You can come in.”
Avery cleared her throat. She’d grown used to having a hobbling, aging, and distant father. She’d moved on—as best as she could—from her mother’s death. But she wasn’t ready to see Charlie in a hospital bed, the color drained from his face, looking weaker than she’d ever imagined he could look.
“I’m okay,” she said, coming farther into the room. “I just— I didn’t think you’d be staying. I thought they just wanted to run some tests.”
He muted the TV and waved her over, gesturing toward a wooden chair with a faux-leather cushion that sat next to his bed. “They did. But tests always find shit. Some of my levels are up, so they want to do more tests. Tomorrow. You know how it is.”
She did know. That was the problem. As her mom’s illness had progressed, she went to the hospital over and over. Infections. Trouble breathing. Anemia. Avery’s hands shook as she sat down.
“What did they say is wrong with you?” Avery asked. “Besides the fact you’re getting old.”
“Nice. They don’t know. The tests showed the possibility of a heart attack. Likely a mild one. Some enzyme popped up on the bloodwork. So they need to look around more. Hey, I don’t care about that. It’s nothing.”
“A heart attack isn’t nothing.”
“What did you find out about our lost pup? You said you’d learned something.”
“It’s not important. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Charlie lifted his left hand off the blanket. “You say it’s not important. But I can hear in your voice that you have something on your mind. What is it?”
“Do you want me to call someone? You said you had a new woman in your life.”
“What’s the question on the table?”
He was right. Avery wanted to see the light he might shed on things. If he could. She even found her concern for his health dipping as the possibility of answers drew closer.
“Okay,” she said. “Anna has run off again. She talked to Libby. And Libby brought up something about a birthday gift Anna’s ex-boyfriend got her. And then Anna was crying and making plans to go to Rydell. But she wouldn’t say what was wrong.”
The expression on Charlie’s face changed slightly. A tensing of the muscles around his mouth and eyes. “What’s she going to Rydell for?”
“I thought maybe you’d have a guess.”
“And what’s this gift they’re talking about?”
“I don’t know that either. But we can call Libby and ask if you want. I was ready to do it, but then I thought I’d talk to you first. I really can’t stand talking to Libby, so I hoped maybe I could get out of it.”
Charlie stared at the TV, which was now showing a football game. The sound remained muted.
“Charlie? Rydell?”
“Yeah, Rydell.”
“I know they grow a lot of weed there. And there’s a river and a cave that’s supposed to be haunted. Those are the two facts I know from my time in the KSP.”
“And Jesse James hid in the cave once,” Charlie said.
“Every town in this state has a Jesse James story. One percent of them are true. Or less. Helps tourism, though. Otherwise, I always heard the town was kind of a dump.”
“It is. I’d call it a one-horse town, but that would be insulting to actual one-horse towns.”
“Then why is Anna going there?” Avery asked. “Any guesses?”
He paused, thinking about his answer. “She must know someone there.”
“Who would Anna know in some little town like that?”
“She goes to school with kids from all over the state.”
“Then why not just say that? Why not tell her friend Rachel who she was going to see?”
He lifted his hands off the blanket again and let them fall back down. “You said Anna can be a mysterious little cat. Maybe she has a guy there. Or a girl.”
Avery leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She tilted her head to get a better look at Charlie. “Her roommate was murdered. They can say it was this Midnight Rambler guy, just your average everyday perv. But Anna’s running off in tears to a town where she has no apparent connections, and she’s not telling anyone why she’s going. And the only thing I know about the place is they grow a lot of weed there. And, oh, my dad and his best friend just happen to be retired cops who worked on a drug task force years earlier. Charlie, I don’t know which thread to pull, but there are a lot of them to choose from.”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed a little. “Sometimes I think I’m talking to your dad when you get wound up like that.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“I’m trying to compliment you. Believe it or not.” He shifted in the bed a little, grimacing as he adjusted his weight.
“Are you okay? Should I shut up?”
“I’m okay.” The volume of his voice had gone down. “You need to hear this.”
“Hear what?”
“I can tell you some things and make some guesses, okay? That’s it. Maybe I can clip some of those threads.”
Avery’s hands clenched into fists and unclenched. “Okay. If you’re up for it.”
“You might want to ask yourself that question.”
“What are you saying?”
“There’s a lot of history in Rydell.”
“What kind of history? You mean of the town, or something personal?”
“Both.”
“Okay. You’ve got my attention.”
“Look, I know you want to go running off there and look for Anna. But even in a small town, it’s hard to find somebody if they don’t want to be found.”
“It sounds like you don’t want me to go.”
“I want you to take your time. We can go when I get out, okay?”
A nurse came breezing into the room. She checked the monitor on the side of the bed, and then announced she needed to draw more blood. “But you’re welcome to stay.”
“Wait,” Charlie said. “Can you go get me a candy bar or something? Maybe a Coke? I haven’t had any lunch.”
“Sure,” Avery said. “I hate needles almost as much as I hate water.”
“It will just be a few minutes,” the nurse said. “And there’s a vending machine at the end of the hallway. Although maybe you shouldn’t be having any candy right now.”
“Just a taste,” Charlie said, winking at the nurse, who smiled back.
“Okay,” Avery said. “I’ll carry out my mission.” She pushed herself up and started for the door while the nurse arranged her equipment.
Charlie’s voice stopped Avery before she left. “Hey, do me a favor. Don’t call Libby yet, okay?”
Avery looked back. “Didn’t you hear me? I can’t stand Libby.”
Charlie gave her a thumbs-up, and she left, heading for the vending machines.
51
Morris sat at his desk, finishing a report. He’d recently closed a case involving a large-scale theft of electronics. A group of guys in Breckville had ripped off a Best Buy delivery truck and started reselling the stuff. Computers, phones, iPads. When one of the guys sold an iPhone to a high school student for a hundred dollars, a parent reported it. The whole thing came tumbling down. Each guy they picked up identified two others who were involved. No honor among thieves indeed.
Morris had come in to finish the report because the station was relatively quiet early on a Saturday afternoon. Most of the students from Gracewood were hibernating, saving up their energy for a night of partying and mayhem. A Saturday before the chaos made him think he could continue working as a detective indefinitely, as opposed to every other day of the week, when he found himself calculating how many more months until he was eligible to retire.
The front desk officer called back, told him he had a visitor.
“Who?”
“Lieutenant Paulson. KSP.”
Morris’ eyebrows went up, even though no one was there to see him do so. “Send him back.”
When Paulson came into his office, he looked like he was wearing the same thing he had worn at the diner. Except his fleece pullover was decorated with the logo of a local Catholic grade school. They shook hands, and Paulson took a seat. As he did, his eyes roamed around the small room, taking it in.
“Spartan,” Paulson said.
“I’m going to have to move out someday, right?”
“Why move anything in that you have to move out?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s one approach.”
“Did you come by just to analyze my decor, or lack thereof?”
“You know better than that,” Paulson said, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t shaved, which was the only thing remotely imperfect in the man’s appearance. “I’ve been thinking about this guy you got the pictures of outside your murder scene. I think I have some ideas on that.”
Morris saved his work and closed the window on his computer. He swiveled his chair to better face the KSP lieutenant and rested his hands on top of the desk. “I’m all ears.”
Paulson took his time speaking. Finally, he said, “You’ve been getting a lot of tips, I’m guessing, ever since you made the photos public?”
“True. Mostly garbage tips. You know, ‘I think that’s my brother-in-law. I always suspected he was a murderer. He lives in California, but maybe he was in Breckville outside that poor girl’s apartment that night.’ That kind of high-quality thing. I’m hoping, maybe, you’re here to deliver an upgrade.”
“Maybe I am.”
But Morris could tell Paulson was going to take his sweet time filling him in. So he waited. He reminded himself not to tap his fingers on the desk or start whistling, as those things could cause Paulson to think twice or clam up. The best course of action was to remain still, to let the information flow to him in its own time.
Finally, Paulson said, “Has anybody given you the name Nicholas Yates?”
“No.”
Paulson nodded. “About a year ago, we investigated an assault case. This Nicholas Yates beat the daylights out of some other guy. We always thought there was more to it. We never found out what the beef was about. The victim wouldn’t really say, just that the two guys had a ‘misunderstanding.’ If that was the case, it was a hell of a misunderstanding. Guy was in the hospital for a week.”
“He owed somebody money. That’s what you thought, right?”
“Right.”
“Drugs?”
“Likely. But no one admitted anything. Yates did a month in county for it. He’s still on probation, I would imagine. But that was the end of it. Until I saw those images you all released. The images of the guy outside Kayla Garvey’s apartment.”
“They’re not great. They’re grainy and dark. And taken by a Peeping Tom.”
“Maybe more Peeping Toms need to go to film school.”
“I’m sure some would be happy to. I’m sure some of the best directors are just washed-out Peeping Toms. So you think it looks like this Yates. And you think there was more to the story on this assault he got busted for. Like maybe he’s a low-level enforcer for somebody. And I’m guessing there’s a little more you have to say about this. Right?”
Paulson rubbed his stubbly cheek. “I’m drawing a line between two things that may not be related. But I’m willing to step out onto that limb.”
“I wish you would. And I think I know where you’re going with this.”
“I’m sure you do. If we suspect Yates is some kind of enforcer for those involved in the pharmaceutical industry in the state, and it’s possible Anna Rogers was the intended victim of what happened in that apartment and not Kayla Garvey, and Ms. Rogers might have been targeted as some form of revenge against her father, who used to be the head of a drug task force for KSP . . .”
“Yeah.” Morris lifted his index finger and tapped it against his dry lips. “Here’s the thing, though—if Captain Rogers has been out of the game for five years, why take revenge on him now? Why not then? And that’s assuming somebody shooting him and crippling him for life wasn’t enough revenge.”
“I don’t know,” Paulson said, “unless the person was locked up. They went away for years and just got out. And decided to go after Rogers now.”
“And why the daughter and not him?”
“What would hurt you more? Somebody doing something to you or to one of your kids?”
“And let me go a step further,” Morris said. “Maybe Kayla Garvey was really the target. Maybe she’s involved in something sketchy, or her family is. Or maybe it’s not about Russ Rogers’ career as a cop, but he has gambling debts or a drug problem. People with injuries like his get hooked on stuff.”
“We’ve looked all over the Garvey family. They’re so clean, they squeak. The worst thing I can say about Kayla’s dad is he’s a workaholic. There’s no sign Russ Rogers is a pillhead or a gambler.”
“I guess you’re right. It’s a bold enough move to go after a cop, even if he’s retired. But to go after a family member . . . That’s Godfather kind of shit.”
“I wanted to share the information with you,” Paulson said. “If you can find Yates, maybe you can find out who he works for. The assault wasn’t a big-deal charge, but we’re talking murder now. He’s looking at a long sentence, maybe life. Maybe he’s more willing to deal this time.”
“Yeah, maybe he is.”
“Yates’ records are all in the system, so you can read up on him. Of course, I am just guessing. I don’t know if it’s him. But something about it kind of makes sense.” Paulson stood up, extended his hand. “Let me know if I can do anything else.”
Morris rose as well, and the men shook hands. “You’ve done quite a bit. The cynical part of me wants to know why you’d hand this information to me at all. You could run it down, get the arrest for yourself.”
“I believe in cooperating. Besides, you gave me some fries the other day.”
Morris laughed. “If this works out, I’ll buy you a steak dinner.”
“Deal.”
Once Paulson was gone, Morris jumped back on the computer. He started to read about Nicholas Yates.
52
The whole way down the hall, Avery thought about calling Libby. Yes, Charlie had told her not to—but what objection could he have to her trying to find out more?
Clearly, Libby knew something—something that not only made Anna cry but sent her running off. And to Rydell? What the fuck did she want to go to Rydell for?
Was Anna mixed up in drugs? Did that explain her troubles in school, her detachment from the family? Was that why whoever had gone into the apartment and killed Kayla was looking for her?
But Anna? Was it even possible?
Avery slid dollar bills into the vending machine in the lounge at the end of the hall, listened to the satisfying whirr, and then pressed the buttons for Charlie’s Coke. She studied the other options, clueless as to what kind of candy bar he might want, so she opted for something reliable that she might want a bite of as well. A Milky Way. Perfect for a heart patient.
