Hex on the Ex (31 page)

“To you, maybe,” I said. “What did I miss?”

“I seriously have to catch you up on movies,” Nick said. He looked at Dave and together they said,
“Major League.”

“Charlie Sheen played the role of a baseball pitcher,” Nick said. “Jarret?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know whether Tess’s dream impresses or frightens me.”

“I’d say Gretchen is more frightening than your friend’s dream,” Dave said. “Criminals are either ignorant or arrogant. But failing two—make that three, including today—attempted murders in the same week classifies Gretchen as one of the dumbest or craziest killers on record.”

“Her father preached vengeance as a right,” Nick said. “Once she had Liz in her sights, Gretchen felt entitled to take her due.”

“The smashed photo didn’t fit until Jarret’s mother described Gretchen’s obsession,” I said. “Carla pinned the motive—jealousy and revenge.”

“She just didn’t dig back far enough in Jarret’s history to find the real killer,” Robin said.

“Pratt would have gotten there,” Dave said. “And now that Gretchen confessed to starting the townhouse fire—”

“After she hacked into the gym’s computer for my address then rummaged through my backpack to confirm I hadn’t moved just so she could torch me
and
my home,” I added.

“I’m sure the Illinois authorities will reinvestigate the fire at the Bull Valley house last December and the blaze that killed her mother and siblings,” Dave said.

“What happens with Kyle and the steroids now?” I said.

“He won’t be in business for long,” Dad said. “This morning after we spoke, I tipped a contact at the DEA about Stanger’s sideline. He’ll be busted as soon as his next customer
leaves Game On with drugs. I wouldn’t go back to that gym, Lizzie.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” I tucked my arm under Nick’s, whispering, “I’m going to fly to Atlanta for Laycee’s funeral. I need to forgive her and wish her peace. Will you come?”

He squeezed my hand. “Of course.”

In the midst of the excitement, I realized I hadn’t notified Oliver. I took out my phone and dialed his private number.

Oliver answered with, “If Pratt’s with you, try for God’s sake to keep your mouth shut. Do you need a bail bondsman or the national guard?”

“Neither. You can call off your private eye and relax for the rest of the weekend. Laycee’s killer is in custody.”

“Jarvis confessed?”

I laughed, and then gave him the details on Gretchen’s attack and subsequent confession.

“No fooling?” he said. “I’m happy it worked out but I’ll miss working with you.”

“Me, too, Oliver.”

“Stay out of trouble, kid. But if you can’t, you know how to find me.”

A
young doctor in green scrubs and straight blonde hair tied at the nape of her neck, entered the waiting room and said, “Is Liz Cooper here?”

Mom and Robin rose with me to face her. Ira swerved around, pocketed his phone, and joined us.

“I’m Dr. Adler, Jarret Cooper’s emergency room physician. Which one of you is Liz?”

“I am. How’s Jarret?” I searched her face, hoping for good news.

“He lost a lot of blood. We have him stabilized. I’m keeping him here overnight to monitor his blood pressure.”

“What about his shoulder?” Ira said.

“Fortunately, the knife didn’t cut the radial nerve, but he will need surgery to determine the extent of muscle damage.” Dr. Adler smiled at me. “Jarret asked if you were here, Ms. Cooper. You can go up and see him if you like.”

Of course Mom followed me up to Jarret’s room. She had the decency to wait in the hall to give me a moment alone with him.

Jarret reclined in the hospital bed with his left arm and shoulder bandaged. He looked up, his lips curled in a loopy smile. “Hi Lizzy-Bear.”

“How are you?”

“Almost in one piece.”

I leaned over the bed to kiss his forehead. “Thank you for pushing me out of the way. I owe you one.”

“You sure do.” He reached at me with his free hand. “Come closer. Let me cop a feel.”

“I’m almost grateful enough to let you, but my mother is right outside your door, ready to burst in. Plus I’m thinking you should keep your hands to yourself for a while.”

“Hell, no. Did you meet Dr. Adler? Did you
see
what she looks like? And she’s single. Find out if she makes house calls.”

“Yoo-hoo.” Mom peeked in, taking Jarret’s weak wave as permission to enter.

“Hey, Viv.” Jarret sunk into the pillow, his eyes struggling to remain open.

She went to the bedside and straightened his sheet. “Don’t you worry—we’ll make sure you get the best doctors. I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning so you don’t have to starve to death in here.”

“No food. Going home tomorrow.”

“Not to that house, you’re not,” Mom said. “You’re coming home to stay with Walter and me for a while so I can help you recuperate.”

I shook my head, smiling. Jarret living with Mom? There was a bizarre sense of justice in there somewhere.

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