Bone Deep (11 page)

Jill shot to her feet and took her mother by the shoulders but didn’t shake her as she wanted to. Her heart thumped hard. She was on to something. “Tell me, Mother. Is there something you know about MedTech that is relevant to Kate’s situation?”

Her mother’s gaze didn’t waiver this time, she looked at Jill with more ferocity than she’d thought her capable. “Leave it alone, Jill, or we’ll both be sorry.”

She shrugged off Jill’s hands and walked out of the room. Jill watched, too stunned to say anything or to go after her. She wilted onto the sofa and tried to rationalize what had just happened. Her mother knew something. That was the only logical explanation. She knew something that frightened her enough to keep her quiet.

No one in this town, not even her own mother, wanted Jill to get to the bottom of this murder. Even the chief was working against her. Then again, could everyone be wrong except her? That kind of thinking reeked of paranoia. At least she had Phillips on her side. When Jill considered his unstable emotional condition, that wasn’t comforting in this particular instance.

But he was all she had.

She climbed the stairs, feeling more and more defeated. She hesitated outside the guestroom door. It was quiet on the other side. Maybe he’d already called it a night. She glanced at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall, nine forty-six. It was still early.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she knocked on the door. A few seconds later it opened.

“Is something wrong?” He looked her up and down.

Jill almost laughed. She should just say yes but that would be a vast understatement. “The real question is, is anything right?” she admitted with a pathetic shake of her head. More hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat. “My sister killed her husband. My nephew is missing. And I think my mother has gone around the bend.”

One of those rare smiles tugged at his lips. He opened the door wider and stepped back. “I hope you can afford me, I’m very expensive and I warn you I don’t have a couch.”

Tamping down the bout of hysteria, Jill stepped into the room, immediately noting the reports and photos spread over the bed. Knowing what the photos were was more than enough to dissolve any laughter left inside her. She suddenly felt more tired than she could ever remember feeling before.

Out of the blue, she remembered that he smoked. “Do you need an ashtray or anything?”

He shook his head. “It’s an on again, off again habit.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained everything. A kind of disorientation swirled inside her. His unopened bag lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. A laptop case right next to it. “Mother doesn’t have WiFi but there is Internet access in my father’s study. Feel free to use the study. Just—”

“Keep the door closed,” he finished for her.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Silence stood between them for a few seconds.

“There was something you needed?” His expression remained impassive, as did his tone. He was being very careful. One of them had to be. All the stress made her yearn for escape, however temporary.

Where in the world had that come from? She hadn’t come in here for that kind of escape. Had she? Jill shivered in spite of herself. Her mother was right, she was being foolish.

“You know,” she admitted as much to herself as to him, “we can talk about it tomorrow.” She was losing her mind. Totally losing it. She turned to go.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. The contact sent a shiver through her. “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She didn’t look at him, just nodded. She was so desperate at that moment if she’d looked into his eyes she might have lost all semblance of control, and ended up spending the night in his arms—assuming he was willing—seeking the kind of distraction that came with far too many problems of its own.

So she did the only thing she could, she escaped to her own room. Ran from the uncertainty... from the danger.

She sagged against her closed door and shut her weary eyes. And why not run?

Like mother, like daughter.

Chapter 8

Thursday, July 14

Paul took no offense at Claire’s blatant rebuff as they’d had coffee that morning. She didn’t want him in her house. On the way to the hospital to see Kate, Jill told him about her mother’s outburst last night. Aspects of Claire’s reactions were common for the family of a victim. And Kate Manning was a victim regardless of the fact that she had most likely killed her husband.

Jill was still reluctant to grasp that part. Murder was an act gentle people like her sister didn’t commit. Until all the pieces of the puzzle were in place and she could see the motive, Jill would continue to deny what she couldn’t rationalize in her own mind. Another common reaction.

The elevator doors slid open and Paul followed Jill into the main corridor on the fourth floor of Paradise General. They hoped to catch Kate in the least medicated state. The night’s meds would have hopefully worn off to a large degree and the morning dose wasn’t scheduled until nine.

“Good morning, Dr. Phillips,” Nurse Bennett beamed from behind the nurse’s station. “It’s nice to see you back.”

Obviously the chief hadn’t spoken to everyone in town. “Nurse Bennett,” Paul acknowledged. Nice wasn’t a word he would use to describe being back here. What little sleep he’d gotten last night had been riddled with voices and images. He’d finally admitted defeat and drowned the voices with the fifth of bourbon he’d stashed in his bag.

His head was clear enough this morning. Clear enough to know he had to tread damned carefully where Jill was concerned. If she’d looked back just once before leaving his room last night, he wouldn’t have been able to let her go.

That couldn’t happen again. Those kinds of emotions threatened his control. And complete control was the only way he’d get through this.

“How is she this morning?” Jill asked.

“Still sleeping last time I checked.” The nurse skirted the station. “We’ll go see if she’s awake. It’s past time she had her breakfast.”

Bennett led the way, unlocking doors as she went, smiling at Paul every chance she got. Jill followed without making any more small talk. Paul wondered if she’d gotten any sleep herself. She still looked exhausted. Dark circles underscored those blue eyes, enhancing the paleness of her fair skin. She’d dressed more comfortably today with navy slacks, a matching sleeveless pullover and practical flats. He would have been happier if the outfit hadn’t fit so nicely to those subtle curves of hers.

That’s right, dumbass, go ahead and play with the fire
.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Bennett offered before leaving the room.

Jill stood at her sister’s bedside, staring down at her sleeping form, torturing her bottom lip with her teeth.

Paul moved to the foot of the bed. The discoloration on Kate’s face was fading into that ugly yellow and purple. The external wounds would heal long before the internal ones.

Those might never heal, for Kate or for Jill.

This was the first time he’d seen the sisters together. Even with the bruises, the resemblance between the two was startling. Perfect mirror images.

Without warning or preamble, Kate’s eyes opened and she looked straight at Paul. “You’re back.”

Paul blinked, looked from Kate to Jill. Her hand went to her throat as her startled gaze flicked to his. For a second there he’d thought maybe he was the only one who’d seen and heard that one.

“Kate, how are you feeling this morning?” Jill took her sister’s hand in hers and cradled it lovingly.

Kate looked at Jill with more curiosity than recognition. “I’m fine. How are you?”

New color bloomed on Jill’s pale skin. The color of hope. Kate hadn’t spoken a word, except in Paul’s head, since the police discovered her and her husband’s body. This could be the start of a major breakthrough. And some answers.

Jill sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “I’m fine now.” The emotion in her voice almost undid him. “Do you know who I am?” The words quaked with renewed optimism and its underlying anxiety.

“No,” Kate said. She spoke in a monotone, her words mechanical. “Would you help me?”

The hair on the back of Paul’s neck stood at attention, his heart rate accelerated. He moved closer, watching Kate’s expressionless face for even the subtlest change.

“Of course, I’ll help you,” Jill said softly. “Tell me what you need.”

The expression, the monotone never changed. It was eerie to watch. Like a robot. Paul couldn’t shake the idea. Not real... not quite human. Like Jill said last night…
Stepford Wives
.

He listened intently, his profiler’s instincts on point.

“I first saw him in Lynchburg. At Hattie’s,” Kate rambled on with no inflection in her tone. “That’s when it began.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Her jaw fell slack and distance replaced the gleam in her eyes. She lay in the bed, her gaze glued to the ceiling as if some fascinating movie that only she could see was showing there. Complete withdrawal.

“Kate, what do you mean you saw him?” Jill gently shook her sister’s shoulder.

Paul didn’t stop her. She needed to see for herself that her sister had drifted back to Oz. He wondered again about her medications. He’d noted the kind and dosage the first time he visited. If he were the physician assigned to the case, he’d drop the meds completely and see what happened. Something was keeping her in this state of limbo.

Save us
.

The words struck like a bullet to the brain. He watched Kate a moment or two longer and then he knew what he had to do. Whatever she’d seen in Lynchburg they needed to see it too. She’d even given them the place to begin.

“Let’s go.”

Jill looked startled by his voice. Tears had left a salty path down her cheeks. “I don’t understand what she meant.” She shook her head. “Maybe it didn’t mean anything.” She stared at her sister. “How can I help her if I don’t understand?”

Paul gently prodded Jill from her sister’s side and pressed the buzzer for the nurse. “Let’s go. We’ll talk about this on the way.”

Reluctantly, she allowed him to steer her to the door. She kept looking back, hoping her sister would speak again. But that wasn’t going to happen.

~*~

As Phillips drove away from the hospital Jill sat in the Land Rover, depressed and heartsick. Was her sister never going to be well again? She squeezed her eyes shut and banished images of little Cody. She’d called the chief’s secretary and asked if there was any news. Even Lucy had given Jill the cold shoulder, informing her in a brisk, exceptionally unfriendly tone that the chief would call
Claire
Ellington if he had news. Though she and Lucy had never been anything other than acquaintances, the accusation in her tone was hard to take.

Jill gritted her teeth and silently cursed the tears that would not abate. Dammit. She was sick to death of crying. She wanted to do something. To find some answers.

“How do we get to Lynchburg?”

The question startled her. Her head came up and she stared at Paul. “What?”

His dark gaze rested heavily on hers. “I want to go to Lynchburg. That’s where it started. At Hattie’s.”

Jill slowly let out the air she’d held in her lungs. As an attorney she knew that a good investigator followed up on every possible lead, no matter how seemingly insignificant. But this went far beyond insignificance. This was a wild goose chase without the goose.

“But we don’t know what she saw or even if her statement is anything more than her imagination talking. Shouldn’t we just stop all this and focus on finding my nephew?” There had to be a way to help somehow! Her heart squeezed with worry. She’d come here to help and no one was cooperating. Her own mother was off in some freaked out zone Jill couldn’t reach. What the hell did she do now?

Her new partner said nothing.

Why should he? Jill dropped her head against the seat and groaned. His point was valid. Doing anything was better than doing nothing and this lead was the only one they had. She needed to calm down and think rationally.

Besides, wasn’t she supposed to trust Paul’s instincts now that they were working together? Hadn’t she made that decision at some point last night?

“You’re right,” he said patiently, another unexpected facet to the enigma of Paul Phillips. “We don’t know what it means or if it’ll lead us to your nephew, but it’s worth a look.”

The man was right. It wasn’t like she was getting anywhere here.

“We have to dissect the pieces of your sister’s life to find the truth.”

She turned to study him. He was on to something. She could feel the ionic change in the air around him.

“Each piece, no matter how small, means something,” he went on, “bridges one part to another. Like a puzzle or a map.” He flashed her a smile. “We’re going to follow the map and see where it takes us.”

A new surge of anticipation had her daring to hope. “It’s a small town about two hours from here. Less if we hurry.”

This one was no different than the cases she worked all the time—except for the emotion. Emotion had kept her so focused on the big picture that she forgot the bigger picture was nothing more than hundreds of smaller pieces.

It was almost always the smallest, most unexpected piece or detail that closed the case.

~*~

One hour and forty-nine minutes after pulling out of the hospital parking lot they rolled into downtown Lynchburg.

Hardly more than a speed zone on a long, lonely stretch of highway, Lynchburg was nestled in a valley amid lush green hills. The small town consisted of a few shops, a post office, grocery store, and not much else. The people were friendly and the main source of employment was the Jack Daniels Distillery. Jill had been here more than a few times growing up.

“Where would you like to start?” She’d wrestled with conflicting emotions for the first half of the drive. Finally, she’d landed on cautiously optimistic. Seemed safe enough.

Maybe that was her mother’s problem and she too had found the only place that didn’t hurt.
Denial
. Pretend the problem didn’t exist and it went away.