Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [59]
“It was the craziest thing. I was jogging by the Gunpowder like I always do, when somebody came out of nowhere, shoved me, and I twisted my ankle and fell. I had my headphones on. I didn’t even hear them coming up behind me. The next thing I knew I was being pulled out of the river.” She rubbed her scalp with her free hand and added, “They tell me it’s not unusual to forget parts of what happened when there’s a head injury.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I pointed to the flowers and said, “What’s all this? I didn’t know you had so many admirers.”
She looked troubled. ‘They were just delivered a few minutes ago. You mean they’re not from you?”
“Becka, we’re just friends. This is a little extravagant for my budget even if we were engaged.” Becka and I had had a rocky time together, and there was no way I’d ever date her again, though I was happy to be her friend. There was just always too much pressure when I was in a relationship with her. Nothing was ever good enough, and I never lived up to my potential, at least as far as she was concerned.
She looked crestfallen. “I just thought...you know...”
I pulled out the card on the closest arrangement and asked, “Is it okay if I read this?”
“Go right ahead,” she said.
The card was inscribed, ‘From someone who loves you’. I said, “So you really don’t know who this is from.”
“Not a clue. Like I said, I was kind of hoping it was you.”
I reached for the telephone, then dialed the number off the florist on the card. After a brief conversation, I hung up and explained, “They said it was a cash transaction from a messenger service. No way to trace it, I’m afraid.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think they’re from him? Why would he try to kill me, and then shower me with flowers?”
“Who are you talking about?”
Urgently, she said, “My stalker. I know they’re from him. Get them out of here, Harrison, they’re creeping me out.”
“Take it easy,” I said. “We don’t know they’re from him.”
“Who else would send them? Get rid of them. Now.” Her voice was loud and shrill. At least there was no one sharing her room at the moment.
A nurse popped her head in. “Is there a problem here?”
With as much dignity as I could muster, I said, “The lady has decided she doesn’t care for the flowers.”
The woman said, “Man, I’d love to get this kind of attention. Are you sure?”
Becka said, “You can have them.”
“I can’t, it’s against hospital policy.”
“Then throw them out. I don’t want them.” There was no way to misinterpret her resolve. The nurse shrugged, then said, “Okay, I’ll find something to do with them.”
I helped her carry the bouquets out of the room, telling Becka I’d be right back. As I walked to one of the nurses’ stations, the woman said, “She seemed so happy to get them before. What’s the matter, did you two have a fight?’”
I wasn’t about to correct her. “They’re not from me.”
The nurse nodded knowingly. “From another guy, huh? So you’re making her throw them out.”
“I’m not making her do anything,” I said. “And if you knew Becka Lane at all, you’d realize that.”
After we’d collected all the flowers and removed them, I said, “It looks kind of bare in here now, doesn’t it?”
Becka said, “I prefer it to having those things around me.”
I moved to a chair near her bed and asked, “So you don’t have any idea who was behind you?”
“I felt a shove between my shoulder blades, then I twisted my ankle and I fell. That’s all I know.”
She was getting hysterical. I patted her hand and said, “Listen, you’re okay now. That’s all that counts.”
“Harrison, I’m getting scared, really scared, now.”
“We can call the sheriff again,” I said. “This is a little more concrete than what we’ve had before.”
“Oh please, he’s not going to give this any credence. I don’t need that.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll talk to him myself.”
“I wish you wouldn’t. It’s not going to do any good.”
“I think you’re wrong,” I pressed. “He needs to know what happened.”
“Fine, tell him anything you want then. Harrison, I think the pain medication is kicking in. Thanks for coming by, but I really don’t feel up to talking