The Crush (31 page)

"I can't rule out the possibility that she invited him there, Wick."

He didn't even honor that with a comeback.

He let his hard stare say it all.

"I said it's only a possibility."

Averting his head, Oren muttered something else that Wick didn't catch.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"He was feeling her tit. Okay?"

He wished he hadn't asked, but he had.

He'd pressured Oren into telling him, and Oren had, and now he was gauging Wick's reaction.

He kept his expression as passive as possible. "She was afraid to fight him off."

"That's what Grace said too, but neither of you was there."

"Grace?"

"Oh, yeah." Oren gestured expansively.

"My wife has become Dr. Newton's number one fan."

"I knew they had met. All Grace said to me was that she was glad I was in such capable hands."

"I get slightly more than that at home. I get an earful about how I'm judging the doctor too harshly and unfairly. Grace thinks I'm holding a grudge because she served on that jury."

For the first time since Oren walked into his room, Wick came close to smiling. He liked to think of Grace giving his partner an earful. If there was anyone on earth Oren would listen to, it was his wife, whom he not only loved but also respected for her insight. "Grace is a smart lady."

"Yeah, well, she didn't see the romantic setting that I did. She hasn't seen this, either."

From the breast pocket of his sport jacket, Oren withdrew several sheets of paper that had been folded together lengthwise. He laid them on the bed tray next to the untouched juice. Wick made no move to pick up the sheets.

"In all the excitement of recent days you might have forgotten that Dr. Newton fatally shot a man when she was sixteen."

"It didn't escape your memory, though, did it?"

"Don't you think it needs to be checked out before we submit her name for sainthood? I contacted Dalton PD, along with the county sheriff's office. It's all in there."

Wick resented the incriminating sheets on the bed tray and was reluctant to read them. "Why don't you summarize it for me."

"Ugly. Very ugly," Oren said. "Daddy walked in seconds after the two shots were fired, Raymond Collier was dead. Died instantly.

T. Dan asserted that his big bad business partner had tried to seduce his sweet baby girl. She shot him to protect her virtue.

Clear-cut self-defense."

"It could've gone down that way."

"It could've, but unlikely. Especially since she'd been going down on Collier."

"Oh, good segue, Detective."

Oren ignored the remark. "A good question for her would be why she chose to protect her virtue on that particular day."

"Did anyone ask her?"

"I don't know. I doubt it. Because here's where it gets really interesting. No one was formally questioned.

There was no hearing, no inquest, no nothing.
T.

Dan had deep pockets.
Apparently he threw enough money around to bury the thing quicker than it took for Collier's body to get cold. His death was ruled an accident ... at the scene.

Case closed. Everybody went home happy, including Collier's widow. She left Dalton for her new, completely furnished condo in Breckenridge, Colorado. She made the trip in her shiny new Jag."

Wick thought it through, then said, "You talk about reduced credibility. I don't believe any of it."

"Why not?"

"The police department and sheriff's office admitted to sweeping a fatal shooting under the rug?"

"No. Their reports were brief, but official. There was no evidence to support anything other than an accident. But I tracked down the former cop who was first on the scene."

"Former?"

"He left law enforcement to install satellite dishes. But he remembered driving out to the Newtons' house that day in response to the summons. He said it was the weirdest thing."

"What?"

"Their behavior. Whether it was accidental or intentional, if you'd just shot somebody stone dead, wouldn't you be upset? A little rattled? Shed a few tears? Show some remorse? At the very least do a little nervous hand-wringing?

"He said Rennie Newton sat there cool as a cucumber. Those big green eyes of hers stayed dry. And she's sixteen, remember?

Kids that age are usually excitable. He said she never faltered as she talked him through what had happened.

"T. Dan and Mrs. Newton sat on either side of her. T. Dan lambasted Collier for attempting to rape his daughter. Just went to show, he said, how you never really knew someone as well as you thought you did. The mother cried softly into a hanky. She had heard nothing, seen nothing, knew nothing, and would the officers care for something to drink. The ex-cop said it was downright spooky, like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone."

Wick tried to imagine a sixteen-year-old Rennie giving a calm account of killing a man, even accidentally. He couldn't. He couldn't imagine the incorrigible teen Crystal had described either, or the nymphet who had enticed a married man. Nothing he had heard about her past life coincided with her present one.

Oren said, "I'd better be shoving off. Let you catch a nap. Can I get you anything before I go?"

Wick shook his head.

"I don't mind going down to the magazine shop and--"

"No thanks."

"Okay then. I'll come back with Grace tonight. Sometime after supper. Think you're up to a visit from the girls?"

"Sure, that'd be great."

"They've been bugging us to bring them to see you.

I promise we won't stay long."

Wick forced a smile. "I'll look forward to it."

Oren nodded and headed for the door, but he paused with his hand on the handle. "No bullshit now, Wick. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough."

"Man to man, not partner to partner."

Wick frowned with impatience. "What is it?"

"You've got it bad for her, don't you?"

Wick turned his head toward the window and the familiar view. "I don't know."

Oren swore softly.

"Just go, why don't you?" Wick said.

Suddenly he was very weary. "You've said what you came to say."

"Almost. I have a couple more things to say."

"Lucky me."

"Rennie Newton saved your life. No two ways about it. And I'll always be grateful to her for that."

Wick turned back to him. "What's the
"b"'?"

"That ex-cop in Dalton? He said he couldn't believe that anybody could take a life, even the life of a bitter enemy, and be so emotionally detached from the act. She was so cold, he said, it still gives him chills to think about it."

Chapter 21

Wick glared at the man with the white lab coat and white smile who breezed into his hospital room like he owned the place. "Who're you?"

"I'm Dr. Sugarman. How are you feeling this evening, Mr. Threadgill?"

"Where's Dr. Newton?"

"I'm making her rounds tonight."

"How come?"

"I understand the catheter came out today. How was that?"

"Oh, it was great. I hope I get to do it again tomorrow."

The doctor flashed another white smile.

"Everything okay now?"

"I could out-pee you. Where's my regular doctor?"

"I'm a regular doctor."

And a comedian too, Wick thought sourly.

Dr. Sugarman nodded his approval over whatever he read on Wick's chart, then closed the cover. "I'm glad I'm finally getting to meet the hospital's celebrity patient.

Saw you on TV. You had it rough there for a while, but you're making excellent progress."

"Glad to hear it. When can I get out of here?"

"Anxious to be leaving us?"

What kind of sappy question was that? Wick could have throttled him. He didn't like him or his big white smile. And where was Rennie? Why wasn't she making her rounds? She deserved a night off like everyone else, but why hadn't she mentioned to him that she wouldn't be here tonight? Did she not want him to know?

Lozada is released from jail and Rennie takes the night off. It was an unpleasant thought and he hated himself for thinking it.

His dark expression must have conveyed to Dr.

Sugarman that he should practice his bedside manner on a more agreeable and appreciative patient. His Colgate smile faltered.

"Dr. Newton will make the final decision on your release, but it shouldn't be more than a couple more days. Barring any unforeseen complications." The doctor shook hands with him and left.

"What a turkey," Wick muttered.

The Wesleys arrived. As promised, Oren limited the visit to fifteen minutes, but there was no limit to the girls' energy and exuberance.

They brought him chocolate-chip cookies that they had baked themselves and weren't satisfied until he ate two. Grace had arrived with a shopping bag. "Pajamas. I don't know if they'll let you wear them yet, but you'll have them just in case. I got slippers, too."

He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Marry me?"

Her daughters squealed with laughter and had to be admonished to settle down. They chattered nonstop, and they were wonderful, but they wore him out. He was ashamed for being relieved when they gave him hugs and said their good-byes.

Oren didn't talk business until after his family had moved into the hallway, out of earshot.

He told Wick that Lozada was again free.

"Sarge wouldn't authorize surveillance on him. And after tonight he's pulling the guards from the hospital."

"You're putting me on alert."

Oren nodded solemnly. "Watch your back.

After tonight you won't be protected by the FWPD."

That was fine and dandy with Wick. He didn't want police protection, because in exchange for it he would have to give up his freedom. After hearing the DA'S decision today, he had concluded that the authorities were no contest for Lozada.

Jurisprudence was carried out within moral boundaries, and Lozada operated under no such restraints.

If Wick wanted Lozada he would have to go after him alone. To level the playing field, he must go after him ruthlessly, with a mindset like Lozada's. He couldn't do that if he were constantly monitored and guarded.

He asked about his pickup truck.

Oren's brow lowered suspiciously. "What about it?"

"I'd like to know where it is."

"Why?"

"Because it's my truck," Wick replied testily.

Reluctantly, Oren told him that it was at his house. "I took the liberty of checking you out of the motel. Once the CSU guys were finished with your room, I packed up everything and took it outta there."

Wick wanted to ask specifically about his pistol, but didn't. No sense in giving Oren more to worry about. "Thanks. I wasn't looking forward to going back into that room."

"I figured. All your stuff's locked up in your truck. It's parked in my driveway."

"Keys?"

"I've got them and your wallet in a safe place inside the house."

Safe from whom? Wick wondered. Safe from him? Again he didn't ask. "Thanks, partner."

Oren didn't return Wick's guileless smile, probably guessing that it was disingenuous.

After that, Wick impatiently endured the long, boring evening hours. Eventually the traffic in the corridor outside his room subsided. Dinner trays were collected and placed on trolleys that were shuttled back to the kitchen. Doctors completed their rounds and left for home.

Visitors departed. Personnel went through a shift change. The hospital settled down for the night.

At eleven o'clock a nurse came in to give him a pain pill. "You want your blinds drawn?"

"Please. Sun comes in through there in the morning."

As she moved to the window, he remarked offhandedly, "Too bad about Dr. Newton."

The nurse laughed. "Too bad? I wish I could take vacation at the drop of a hat."

"Vacation? Oh, I thought Dr. Sugarman said she was under the weather."

"No, she's taking some vacation days, that's all."

He twirled his finger near his temple. "This medication makes me goofy."

"It can do that."

"When will Dr. Newton be coming back?"

"She didn't clear her schedule with me," the nurse said around a wide grin. "But don't worry. Dr. Sugarman is a sweetheart."

While she fiddled with the blinds, Wick pretended to swallow the pill. He set the empty drinking cup on his bed tray and she rolled it away.