Fatal Error (39 page)

“You’d better handle that today, then,” he said. He sat down across from her and took a sip of his coffee. “Have you heard from Camilla Gastellum?”

Ali nodded. “Valerie, her other daughter, and her husband drove all night. The three of them got to the hospital in San Diego this morning about eight. Brenda is out of the ICU. Her condition has been upgraded from critical to serious. They’re treating her for dehydration. There’s some concern about blood clotting issues as well. She was evidently left sitting in that chair for so long that there’s concern about her developing DVTs.”

“What’s that?”

“Deep vein thrombosis from sitting for long periods of time. Blood clots that form in your legs can break loose and travel to the heart or lung or brain.”

“I’m glad her family is there,” Gil said. “I’ll need to talk to
Brenda once she gets back north. It sounds like the actual kidnapping took place in Sacramento, but that all needs to be sorted out. That was my chief on the phone, by the way, calling to give me hell.”

Ali had heard Gil’s cell phone ringing earlier. That was evidently what had propelled him out of bed.

He retrieved his toasted bagel, put it on a plate, and brought that, a butter knife, and a container of cream cheese to the table.

“Chief Jackman told me yesterday that he wanted me to take comp time to make up for all the overtime, but it turns out he didn’t mean I should take it now. And the fact that you and I managed to track down Richard Lowensdale’s killer on our own time and that we saved Brenda Riley’s life in the process barely registers in his little bean-counting skull. I told him I’ll be in tomorrow. With that in mind, I guess I’d better rent a car someplace and head north.”

“No,” Ali said.

“What do you mean no?”

“As you pointed out last night, I’m the one who got you down here and I’m prepared to get you back. I’ve called You-Go. They’ll have yesterday’s CJ at John Wayne Airport, KSNA as it’s known in aviation circles, at one p.m. You should be back in Grass Valley, KGOO, by about two thirty.”

“You can’t do that,” he said. “I can’t
let
you do that. It’s too expensive.”

“You can’t stop me because it’s already done. Here’s your tail number. They asked about catering. I told them to order you a chicken salad. Hope that’s okay.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Ali said. “I owe you, Gil. Brenda’s alive. If it hadn’t been for you, she probably wouldn’t be.”

“All right,” he said. After a moment’s reflection he took the
piece of paper with the tail number on it and slipped it into his pocket. “But I won’t be able to pay you back anytime soon. I did a lot of thinking about the money situation last night,” he said. “I’m not going to keep it.”

Ali looked at him and smiled. “I never thought you would,” she said. “You’re not that kind of guy.”

He raised his coffee cup. “You aren’t either.”

By noon, the kitchen was back in order. They were packed and ready to leave. “I need to stop by and see Velma one last time,” Ali told him.

“You do that,” Gil said. “I’ll take the bags downstairs and wait for you in the lobby.”

As soon as Ali rang the doorbell on the penthouse floor, there was the expected response—frantic barking from the three dogs, followed by a stern “Quiet,” followed by “Get on your rug.” When Maddy Watkins opened the door, the room was perfectly quiet.

“I’m not sure she’s awake,” Maddy said.

“Who is it?” Velma asked from her hospital bed by the window.

“It’s Ali,” Maddy replied. “Ali Reynolds.”

“I’m awake,” Velma said. “Send her over.”

Ali was surprised by the difference even a single day had made. Maddy was right. Velma was losing ground, physically if not mentally.

“Have you been to the bank yet?” Velma wanted to know.

“Not yet,” Ali said. “I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll probably see a bank branch somewhere along the way.”

“Good,” Velma said. “I want you to have that money. Actually, I want your scholarship kids to have the money. If I put it as a bequest in my will, my son might figure out a way to keep it from happening. I love him, you see. I just don’t trust him.”

Ali went over to Velma’s bed and gathered Velma’s rail-thin
hand in her own. “I have to go now,” Ali said, leaning over to kiss Velma’s weathered cheek.

“I do too,” Velma said with a slight smile. “Don’t bother coming to the funeral,” she added. “It’s going to be what my son wants, not what I want, but it won’t make a bit of difference to me. Having you here to drink Maddiccinos with Maddy and me was a lot more my speed. Goodbye, Ali. Thanks for everything.”

Blinking back tears, Ali paused long enough to hug Maddy on her way out. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

Maddy nodded. “So am I,” she said.

The day after a bank holiday was a busy one at the Bank of America branch Ali found on their way to the airport. Ali was halfway through the teller line waiting to deposit Velma’s check when her cell phone rang. It was Chris.

“Hey, Grandma,” her son said. “If you want to see your grandkids make their grand entrance, you’d better head home. We’re on our way to the hospital in Flagstaff right now. Dr. Dixon said she’ll meet us there.”

“Did you say right now?” Ali asked.

“I said right now.”

“Okay,” Ali said. “I’ll do my best.”

Her next call was to operations at You-Go. “Do you have another CJ available this afternoon?”

“From where to where?”

“The first one is due to go from John Wayne to Grass Valley. I’d like to take that one for myself and fly from KSNA to Flagstaff, Arizona. When the second aircraft arrives, that one can take Detective Morris from KSNA back to KGOO in Grass Valley.”

“The soonest I could have another aircraft at John Wayne is two thirty,” the operations clerk said. “That’s an hour and a half after Mr. Morris’s scheduled departure. Are you sure that’s all right with him?”

“It’ll be fine,” Ali said. “He doesn’t care what time he gets home as long as it’s today. My son and daughter-in-law are on their way to a hospital. They’re about to have twins, and I want to be there.”

“Your aircraft is about twenty minutes out,” the young woman said. “I’ll advise your pilot of the change in plans and that you need a very short turnaround. What about catering?”

“We’ll both have chicken salad.”

Gil was waiting patiently in the car when Ali emerged from the bank.

“It seems there’s been a slight change in plans,” Ali told him. “I’m going home to Arizona in your plane, and they’re sending another one for you.”

Gil looked at her anxiously. “I hope it’s not some kind of emergency.”

“It’s not an emergency of any kind. I’m about to become a grandmother,” Ali said with a smile. “And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

J. A. Jance is the top-ten
New York Times
best-selling author of the Joanna Brady series, the J. P. Beaumont series, four interrelated thrillers featuring the Walker family, and the Ali Reynolds series:
Trial by Fire, Cruel Intent, Hand of Evil, Web of Evil
, and
Edge of Evil
. Born in South Dakota and brought up in Bisbee, Arizona, Jance lives with her husband in Seattle, Washington, and Tucson, Arizona.