Bone Deep (6 page)

“Sure.” Jill watched as her friend hurried away. Connie’s abrupt change in demeanor completely baffled her. Any headway she’d gained in feeling more at home vanished.

She was still the outsider.

~*~

Paradise General

Paul scanned the papers spread across the dash and passenger seat of his Land Rover once more. Something was way off. He reread the ER report on Kate Manning. Multiple contusions. Scratches on her right arm and shoulder. An inordinate number of bruises. A green stick fracture on her left wrist. Complete disorientation upon examination. Yet her respiration and heart rate were low, as if she had been completely relaxed. He tossed that report aside and studied the crime scene photos for the fourth time.

The Manning kitchen was large with all the amenities one would expect in the home of a corporate CEO. Directly in front of the kitchen sink was Karl Manning’s body. A large pool of blood had coagulated on the tile floor around him.

But it didn’t add up. Paul shuffled through the pictures. The kitchen was clean, neat... perfect. Not the first item was out of place. No indication of a struggle. But a man lay dead on the floor. His wife, the supposed killer, was marred by what could only be called a beating nothing short of brutal. Even more confusing were the victim’s hands. No indication whatsoever that he’d lifted a finger to harm his wife. Had he worn gloves there would still have been some indication somewhere on his body that his wife had fought back. A single scratch. An abrasion. Something. But there wasn’t a mark on the dead man. When complete, the autopsy report would surely confirm Paul’s conclusion.

Karl Manning had not touched his wife.

Paul stared at the photos of Katherine Ellington and thought about the portrait of her with Jillian, and then the ones of her with her attractive family, scattered around the Ellington home. Unbidden, the image of the child intruded and blocked out all else. The boy, blond haired and blue eyed like his parents, had been missing for almost forty-eight hours now. Odds were against his being alive... but something deep inside Paul resisted that conclusion. He blinked away the image and focused on Kate.

She was the key somehow. She’d been beaten and then delivered to her home to face her husband’s wrath. Maybe for whatever she’d gotten herself into. Or whatever he’d gotten her into, Paul countered, playing out the scene in his head. The child wasn’t around. He was... away. Paul cautiously lowered his defenses... concentrated hard... tried to see.

It was the right thing to do
.

The words reverberated inside him, around him, jerking his head up. The voice was too distorted to know if it was male or female... but the words were clear.
It was the right thing to do
.

Paul stared at the photograph of a bruised and battered Kate. He wondered why Jillian didn’t talk about the fact that she and her sister were twins. Only that once when he’d recognized her in the portrait with her father. Twins, especially identical ones, had a deep connection. Was that why Jillian was so certain her sister hadn’t killed her husband? Then again, he’d picked up on her serious need to be her own person. She’d left home and scarcely returned. To blot out that deep connection? Did she know more now than she realized? Had she convinced herself that if she pretended it didn’t exist, it wouldn’t?

But it did. The link was written in her DNA.

Paul had learned at a very young age that he was different. He sensed things... heard things others didn’t. He could read feelings as easily as breathing, could pick up on the last presence in an empty room. His parents had urged him to keep quiet about what they called
the gift
and he had. But when he’d begun his career there was no hiding his innate ability to know certain details. When his superiors had learned of his ability, they’d pushed him relentlessly to solve more and more cases. They’d pushed him until he snapped.

He closed his eyes and forced thoughts of his past away. He had to concentrate on the here and now. There was something rotten in this sweet little town. He should have left when he had the chance but he couldn’t. Jillian Ellington had unknowingly struck a chord deep inside him. He had to do this part. Give her something to go on and then get the hell out of here before he got dragged into this abyss.

His gaze settled on Kate’s image once more. What was she hiding? What was so unspeakable that she would withdraw into herself and play dead?

A sense of urgency poked Paul.

Everything depended upon Kate.

He glanced at the time on the dash. Three thirty.

What the hell was he thinking? He should just go. Now.

The vacant blue eyes in the photograph haunted him. Someone had to bring Kate Manning back to the land of the living before the state institutionalized her and steady medications reduced to about zero percent the possibility of her ever coming back. She was the only one who could save herself... and her son.

Ten minutes later Paul was striding up to the hospital’s main entrance. He had the file the chief had provided tucked under his arm in an official manner. He’d donned his sports jacket, even finger combed his hair. He looked professional enough.

Inside the lobby he scanned the register and located the psychiatric ward. Fourth floor. Since Kate Manning had not been officially charged there would be no guard assigned to her room. The hospital staff he could handle.

The elevator whisked him upward with scarcely a sound of complaint. The doors opened with a whoosh and he stepped out into the quiet corridor. The smell of pharmaceuticals and fear—not his own this time—assaulted him.

Two nurses were busy behind the station outside the lock down area. This was where Kate Manning would be. He didn’t have to ask. She would be under close observation since fleeing or suicide was often contemplated by those involved with or suspected of heinous crimes.

Paul stopped at the nurse’s station and flashed the credentials that identified him as a psychologist. “Good afternoon, ladies.” He smiled, pumping up the wattage until he garnered an answering smile from both.

“May I help you, sir?” the older of the two, Nurse Mathis according to her nametag, asked, wariness dimming her smile.

“I’m Dr. Phillips from Memphis. Miss Ellington retained my services for evaluating her sister, Katherine Manning. Since the evaluation is needed as soon as possible I’d like to see her now if convenient. I was supposed to be here earlier today,” he added wearily as if he’d had the day from hell just like the two of them.

The nurses exchanged glances. Bennett, the one who appeared in charge, eyed him speculatively. “We have no record of hospital approval for you to see the patient. I’m—”

“There must be some delay in the paperwork,” Paul interrupted smoothly before she could say the deadly five-letter word. In his experience once
sorry
was on the table, few took it back. “I’m sure I was scheduled for today,” he insisted, his gaze traveling from her eyes to her mouth and back with blatant approval. “I’m later than I’d expected to be.” He adopted a harried look, much like hers. This was something else he’d learned long ago, consummate lying. Tell people what they wanted to hear and life went a whole lot smoother.

Nurse Bennett glanced at the clock. “I should verify—”

“My evaluation won’t take long,” he urged. “Chief Dotson will be very disappointed if I don’t have my conclusions to him tonight.”

She caved. The change in her posture told the tale before she spoke. “Well, what can it hurt? There’s no point in you having driven all this way just to have me hold you up.” She pulled Kate’s chart. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

“I sincerely appreciate your assistance,” he said as they moved away from the station.

Nurse Bennett used her ID key card to unlock the door at the transition point. Paul followed her down a long corridor where she paused at room 415. She passed her key card through the reader and opened the door.

“Buzz me when you’re finished. She’s all yours.”

Paul flashed her another smile. “Thank you, Nurse Bennett.”

She passed him the patient chart and scurried back to the station.

He moved to the foot of the bed and scanned the chart for a time before focusing his attention on the woman, mostly to brace himself. She hadn’t spoken since they found her hovering over her husband’s body. She showed no emotion and ate only if fed.

Placing the chart and the file he’d brought with him on the portable serving tray, he moved to the bedside. The swelling was diminishing, the bruises fading from purple to yellow. She looked vulnerable and helpless. Restraints prevented her from getting up without assistance.

Katherine Ellington Manning was a bright woman, educated as a research analyst. She had an excellent work record with MedTech according to the chief’s report. She was cited as a loving wife and mother by all who knew her. And Paul sensed, without having read it, that she was not a violent person. Unlike her rebellious sister, Kate was quiet, submissive, always obedient.

Yes, mother
.
Yes, father
.

His heart beat faster as the sensations toppled one over the other inside him. The voices whispered to him. Kate would never harm anyone, much less her child or her husband. Jillian knew this without reservation. She felt it. The connection was there, despite being buried beneath years of sibling rivalry and bitter disappointment.

But she loved her sister. She wanted to save her.

Kate’s eyes abruptly flew open. “They’re coming for us.”

Paul jerked back a step. He inhaled sharply, blinked repeatedly and stared down at the unconscious woman. “Jesus Christ.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shattered the image seemingly burned onto his irises. Kate hadn’t moved a muscle. What he’d seen and heard had come from inside his own head. Maybe. The warning, wherever it came from, was real. The only question was, did the
us
in her warning apply to Kate and her sister, or to Kate and her son?

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Slow, deep breaths. No panic. Turn it off.

But he couldn’t... not just yet.

He took her hand in his and closed his eyes. This was the part he hated most of all. He focused intently on Kate Manning. The pictures he’d viewed from the crime scene... the family photos. Her snapshots as a photography buff. But nothing came. A brick wall met his continued attempts. She wouldn’t let him back in. Or maybe he held back on a subconscious level.

Why warn him, then hold back? Didn’t make sense. He picked up the chart and the file, buzzed the nurse and walked to the door. He had to get out of here before the next phase hit. The routine was always the same. He had maybe a minute.

As if to defy him, pain split through his head, followed by a bright flash of light. He groaned, pushed it away. He didn’t want to go there now. He steeled himself and focused on the door. He needed out of this place. Just turn it off. Don’t think.

The panic reared its ugly head, a creeping, swelling fear that rose in his throat inhibiting his ability to breathe. It burgeoned in his chest, pressing against his thudding heart. Sweat broke out across his skin. The urge to run raced through his veins.

Where was that nurse?

They mustn’t find him
...

He’ll never be safe if they find him
...
Save us!

He had to get out of here.

“Is everything all right, Dr. Phillips?”

Nurse Bennett’s voice jerked him from the trance... the panic. She held the door open, waiting, looking up at him with mounting concern.

He nodded. “Everything’s fine. Thank you.”

He couldn’t get out of the hospital fast enough.

He burst through exit and gulped in breath after breath. Didn’t help. The voices... the haunting images followed him. He couldn’t make them go away. The darkness edged in... threatening his control... dragging him back to that place where he’d lost himself completely.

He forced the images away. Breathed more deeply.

He wasn’t going back there... not for anyone.

Not for Kate or her son... not for Jillian.

~*~

Jill dropped her purse onto the hall table and checked the answering machine for messages. The day was almost over and there was still no news about Cody. Her apprehension was mounting fast now. He’d been unaccounted for since Sunday morning. A neighbor had seen Kate and Cody getting into her car, presumably to go to church. But no one saw them at church. The urge to join the search was very nearly overwhelming. But how could she do that and all this?

Jill frowned, suddenly too aware of the silence.
He was gone
.

But then that was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

After what Cullen Marks had to say, she understood more than ever that she absolutely needed some kind of miracle that would save her nephew and sister.

Even if it meant believing in someone like Paul Phillips.

Dear God, she was losing her mind. Jill closed eyes and struggled to hold onto her composure. How could she fix this?

First things first. She would check her father’s study to see if Phillips had left a report.

Insistent knocking echoed around her. The possibility it was the chief with an update had her hurrying to the door, praying there was good news. She yanked it open and Paul Phillips filled the doorway as if her desperation had somehow summoned him. Whatever foolish relief she felt was short lived.

He was ready to bolt. He didn’t have to say a word. She could see it in his eyes, in the dark, tense angles of his face.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back, opened the door wider. He came inside just far enough for her to close the door. Again she wondered about the demons that haunted him. He was unquestionably a tortured man. This looked like far more than burnout... deeper than a breakdown. When he stared at some point beyond her and said nothing, she asked, “Have you learned something about my sister’s case?”

“You said you didn’t want me to waste your time so I won’t.” He looked directly at her then. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”