Twilight (37 page)

Danson slapped the cuffs shut. “Get in the car, wise guy.” He jerked his jaw toward Pete to climb in beside him. “Give him his rights.”

Laurie moved to follow, but Danson motioned her up front. Even if he wanted to, Cal couldn’t talk now with the car lurching and rising and falling. His breath came in short grunts with each bump and swerve. Rawlings read the Mirandas, then he, too, was quiet.

Cal understood Laurie’s confusion. Once she glanced back, and he smiled crookedly, giving her the look she expected, a little rebellious and a lot more confident than he felt. Danson muttered something, and she turned around. The glass between them muffled her words, but Danson nodded shortly. Something she’d said must have penetrated his pigheaded rage. Not that Cal blamed him. Assault on an officer was right up there. But he’d been desperate.

They passed through Montrose and drove to the emergency room at the hospital in Melbourne. Cal hadn’t been there since the incident with Ashley Trainor and was not eager to go inside again, but Danson was covering his bases, leaving no room for complaint. Laurie was taken off to one curtained area, he to another. Cal hoped they realized her emotional shock must be as bad as the gash in her knee. Maybe now Rita would talk to her. Maybe … He shook away the fuzzing.

A young doctor Cal hadn’t seen before came in to assess his injuries. Pete Rawlings stayed close as a hovering mother, Cal guessed at Danson’s orders. Too bad he didn’t have any fight left in him. He might have made things interesting. But why? Cal’s head throbbed. What was the point here anyway?

Laurie was safe, her kids were safe. He didn’t have anything left to fight for. “Yuh—right there.” He tensed against the probing of the doctor’s hand on his side.

“We’ll X-ray that.”

“What happened to your ribs?” Rawlings asked.

“Flashover.” Or was that the last time? “Roof came down.” That was it.

“What were you doing out there?”

Cal glanced up. Rawlings looked innocent as a suckling babe, but Cal had no doubt Danson had primed him. One didn’t assault an officer without earning the ire of the entire force. “Out for a stroll,” Cal said, though why he didn’t just answer was beyond him. Habit of recalcitrance. That would have to stop. But just now his head hurt, his side hurt, and most every square inch of skin as well.

Rawlings frowned. “You can do it easy for me, or hard for Danson.”

Good cop, bad cop. Unfortunately it was true. Cal jerked when a nurse applied something to the wound on the side of his head.

“Just washing it up.” Her voice sounded shrill in his ear.

He recognized her but couldn’t find a name. He sucked a shallow breath. “If you want the story clear, you should get it from Laurie.”

“Danson’s doing that.”

So they would compare notes. Well, the sooner he cooperated, the sooner they’d leave him alone. “Laurie’s husband was mixed up with a couple of drug punks. I had nothing to do with his death. I never even saw him unless you count the number he did on my shoulder with a baseball bat. Even then I didn’t see him, since he was masked.”

“Masked?” Rawlings had taken out a pad.

“Came at me in the dark wearing a ski mask.”

“Then how do you know it was him?”

Cal felt awash with guilt. “He told me to stay away from Laurie.”

“Where did he attack you?”

Cal thought about that. He could picture Brian’s silhouette, bat raised, but he couldn’t place the incident. He winced as the doctor pressed another soaked cloth to his head, scrubbing lightly. He recalled Annie on Brian’s ankle. “Mildred’s yard.”

“He attacked you at your place?”

“Outside, yeah.”

Rawlings wrote. “You filed a complaint?”

Cal shook his head, then wished he hadn’t. “No complaint.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t know what was going on.” Or did he? What had he thought? He’d gone to Laurie’s. He remembered that much. That’s when he learned she was married—no,
still
married.

“A man attacks you and you wait to understand why?”

“Pete, I’m not thinking real clearly right now.”

“Mild trauma to the brain.” The doctor pushed aside the curtain and spoke for him.

Not mild
, Cal thought. The physical trauma might be mild, but the mental? He had yet to deal with that.

“So what were you doing at the barn?”

“Getting Laurie out.”

“Did you abduct her?” Rawlings poised his pencil.

“What do you think?” Cal frowned.

Rawlings tapped the pencil against his chin. “A woman’s husband is dead. You just admitted he attacked you. Rita told us you have past history with the woman. Yeah, I’d say it’s a good chance you flipped out, took her off to some secluded place …”

Cal pushed the nurse aside. “And what?”

Rawlings lowered the pencil. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Why don’t you take a flying leap.”

“We’ll X-ray those ribs now.” The doctor stepped between them. Cal glared over the doctor’s shoulder as he was edged out of the room. Still steamed, he submitted to the X-ray. Stripped down to his skin, he realized the burns were superficial, though still painful. He’d had worse. The last time. He pictured himself wrapped in gauze, newly stitched chin, broken tibia, bruised heart and kidneys. It was the emotional damage that didn’t heal. What would the fallout be this time?

Don’t go there. He wouldn’t have to invent his torment this time. Danson would provide it. Deservedly so. Cal felt the fight leak out. Pete Rawlings was doing his job; he looked defensive when they went back in.

“Pete, I didn’t kill Laurie’s husband. Find the two punks who came out here with him. They’ve got a trunk full of cornstarch and probably the murder weapon.”

“We’re working on that.”

Relief coursed through him. “Danson established a search?”

“What would we charge them with, possession of cornstarch?”

“Murder. Kidnapping. Attempted murder. Come on, Pete. Tell me you’re doing something substantial.”

“That’s not your concern.”

Cal’s body tensed. “Not my concern? Have you seen Laurie’s house? Did you notice her condition? They tried to burn her alive! What do you think they’ll do if they stop and find it’s cornstarch they’re hauling, not cocaine?”

Pete looked honestly confused.

“They thought I had Brian Prelane’s cocaine. So I brought them Baggies of cornstarch in trade for Laurie. They decided to kill us both instead, torched the barn and …”

Pete put his pad back into his coat pocket. “Let me do you a favor, Morrison. Tell Danson the truth. He’ll get it one way or another.”

Cal shook his head. “Yeah.”

The pain was just bad enough to keep exhaustion at bay. If Rawlings was through asking questions, Cal would just as soon stop talking. Every word was painful. He had to figure Danson would hold Laurie for questioning. She’d be safe until they let her loose. But the children … Those punks couldn’t have held Laurie and followed him, could they?

“Pete …”

“Save it, Morrison. Danson will love getting a crack at you.”

And Danson’s face when he came in showed exactly that. “All right, wise guy—”

“How’s Laurie?”

“
Mrs
. Prelane is stitched up and fine.”

Cal raised an arm for the nurse to take his blood pressure. “She’s still in shock—”

“We’ve got it under control.”

Danson obviously wasn’t giving an inch. Cal stopped talking. He’d have to trust others to look after Laurie now. His own goose was cooked.

Danson looked at Rawlings and Pete shrugged; the old “did you get the statement”—“not exactly” routine. But Cal had told the truth, the best he could recall it. Danson must have gotten the same from Laurie. And he must believe it, or …

“Are you letting Laurie go?”

“We’ve driven her to the station and sent an officer to fetch her children.”

Cal hoped Mildred didn’t put a bullet through his breadbasket.

His throat tightened. “And you’re looking for the dealers? In the Mustang?”

Danson pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.

“At least keep Laurie and the kids under protection until …”

“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Danson’s neck reddened. “You’re in no position—”

Cal raised his hands, wincing. “I know. I just have to know they’re safe.”

Danson studied him a long moment. “The bacon you better worry about is your own, Morrison.” He rubbed his jaw.

Cal didn’t see much evidence of the blows he’d landed, lucky blows that brought Danson down. But he knew they would not be forgotten. The reality of a cell seeped in. No twilight walks, no woods, no Annie at his side. Not even Mildred’s hi-fi, and Ray’s oddjobs. No trips to the nursing home, no sea of children’s faces. He swallowed harder this time. He’d made his choice. But he dropped his chin to his chest.

The doctor came in. “X rays show three hairline fractures to the ribs. We’ll wrap them up. A slight swelling on the brain. You’ll probably be fuzzy. Here’s something for the pain.” He turned to Danson. “That’ll make him fuzzier. You might wait to finish questioning.”

Danson hooked his thumbs into his belt, drawing himself up. “Is he released?”

The doctor nodded. “The burns are superficial. I think the concussion’s mild enough. Let me just wrap the ribs.”

Wincing, Cal raised his arms and held them while the doctor rendered his rib cage somewhat immobile, waiting for the pain-killers to take off the edge. When there was nothing left to delay his extradition, Danson slapped the cuffs back onto Cal’s wrists and drove him to the Montrose police station. He didn’t try to question him, probably due to the doctor’s remarks, though Cal figured Danson hadn’t appreciated that young man’s input into his business either.

Cal was escorted directly to the one holding cell, and he lay kissing the bunk where Danson shoved him before uncuffing his hands and walking out. Any position was as bad as the next, but it was a bed, and if he didn’t move one muscle he just might be able to ignore the pain. The only problem was breathing.

Like a wrung out rag, Laurie repeated the answers to questions asked one way and then another. She was still reeling. It was too much to take in. Too much to explain. And it was obvious Sergeant Danson didn’t believe her, though her account of Dieter and Luìs matched Ray’s. He admitted that much. He didn’t go so far as to charge her with Brian’s murder, but he obviously suspected her involvement. He would tell her nothing about Cal except that they held him in a cell somewhere in the building.

At her insistence he also told her Cal’s injuries were minor, fractured ribs and a slight concussion, his burns as superficial as her own, though painful, she was sure. Her cut knee had been stitched and bandaged. It was the emotional strain that exhausted her now, and Cal’s wouldn’t be much better. She hoped he cooperated, but he was just rebellious enough to make it worse. And Danson certainly had an ax to grind.

“If you just catch Dieter and Luìs, you’ll see that it’s all true.” She had told the story all the way from her finding the cocaine in Brian’s pool house to Cal’s rescue in the barn. She wasn’t sure about the parts Cal had handled on his own, only going by what he’d told her.

“Every department in the state has been alerted. If they’re out there, we’ll pick them up.”

“It’s Alex Dieter. But I don’t know the other man’s last name. I never saw him before the other night.”

“Tell us again about the other night.” Raggedly she described the scene in her kitchen once more.

“They took your father’s gun.”

“Yes.”

“Which would have your fingerprints.”

“Yes.”

Danson tapped his pen. “And that’s the last time you saw your husband alive?”

Tears surprised her. “Yes.” She swallowed the sudden swelling in her throat. “He looked frightened, but I didn’t think … Why would they kill him? He was in it with them. He always thought he could get away with anything.”

Danson slid the lid onto the ball-point pen and laid it on the table. “I’ll need you to make a positive ID on the body we believe to be your husband’s.”

Laurie shook. “Now?”

Danson nodded.

She drew a jagged breath. “All right.” She followed him to the temporary morgue at the back of the building, quaking inside. But when the body was revealed, it was like a blow. Brian’s face—her insides seized. It was his hair, his jaw, his neck with the gold chain she’d given him for one of their Christmases together. She staggered back, a hand to her face, and nodded.

A call came to Danson’s cell phone, and he said, “Yes? Okay. Keep outside surveillance.” He hung up and looked at her. “Are you all right?”

She couldn’t answer. She’d never been all right, and never would be.

“My officer has delivered Mildred and your children to Mildred’s house. She insisted it would be too traumatic for them to be taken here to the station.”

Laurie nodded, blessing Mildred’s insight. And now one thought burned away all others, one thought she hadn’t allowed herself, hadn’t dared hope for. Luke and Maddie. Cal had kept them safe … and saved her. As she’d known somewhere inside that he could. Without ever formulating the thought, she’d flown to him like a homing pigeon seeking a safe haven. And he’d done all he could and more.