The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 1-5 - Catherine Coulter [505]
“Well, there’s no way around it,” I said. “Wait, obviously something else has happened since I came to Edgerton. There was Charlie Duck’s murder just a couple of days ago. Maggie can’t find a reason either for the attack, or for why his house was ransacked.” I shrugged, and because I was good, I looked him straight in the eye as I added, “She thinks it was just a random killing, and she may be right, but who knows?”
Detective Castanga said, sitting back in his seat, “Yeah, it was a real shame. He had quite a reputation back in the bad old days. The old guy was a retired cop.”
“Yeah, Maggie told me.”
“He left the Chicago PD a long time ago. I’ll speak to Maggie about what she’s found out about it. She told me she’d sent the body to Portland to the medical examiner even though it was obvious old Charlie had been struck on the head. She was right. You never know what will turn up. She told me she was pushing to have his body back by Tuesday. That was the day his funeral had been set.”
He turned his attention back to Laura. “Now, Ms. Scott, you claim you have no enemies. Still, I’ll need a list of the people you know in Salem, and I’ll need to go over that list with you.”
Laura nodded, then closed her eyes. She looked pale and exhausted. I bet I looked about the same.
I wondered if I should tell Castanga all the rest of it, including Charlie’s dying words. No, I’d leave that decision to Maggie.
I thought of Jilly and Paul. Could either of them hate Laura so much they’d want to murder her? Had Jilly left the hospital on her own, driven up to Salem, managed to get into Laura’s apartment, and poured phenobarbital into the coffee can?
“Did Jilly have a key to your condo, Laura?” I asked finally, hating the words as they left my mouth.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so. She visited me there, of course, from time to time. I need a better painkiller. My head is killing me.”
Detective Castanga stood and slowly slipped his notebook back into the inside pocket of his coat. “We have time for this later, Ms. Scott, when you feel better. In the meantime, I’ll post an officer by your door.”
“Thank you, Detective,” she said and closed her eyes again, turning her head away from him on the stingy hospital pillow.
“Mac, are you coming?”
I said, “I don’t want to leave her here alone. Someone tried to kill her. It’ll take a while for you to get someone over here.”
“Not long,” Detective Castanga said. “I got a guy who’s a little burned out right now, but he’ll guard her well.” He said to Laura, “His name is Harold Hobbes, a nice guy, tough as nails, and he won’t let his own mother into your room.”
“Thank you, Detective,” she said.
I went with Detective Castanga to the door and part-way down the hospital corridor. Our footsteps sounded on a background of muted groans, one loud shout, the low hum of music, beeping machines, and an occasional curse. When I returned to Laura’s room, I saw a tall woman bending over Laura.
“Hey,” I said and ran forward.
The woman straightened and cocked her head at me in question. It was Dr. Kiren. “She’s tired but wanted to ask me a question. I had to lean over to hear her.”
“Sorry,” I said.
Dr. Kiren smiled. “She’ll be just fine by this evening, maybe even ready to go home.”
Home, I thought. No, that wouldn’t work. I had to think about this.
Dr. Kiren’s pager went off. On her way out, she told Laura to rest.
I thought about Charlie Duck’s funeral. Hopefully Charlie would arrive back in time for his scheduled send-off.
I leaned over Laura and stroked my thumb over her eyebrows. I said very quietly, “I’ll see you later this afternoon. Then we’ll talk. Just rest. Harold Hobbes will be outside your room. If anyone comes near you, it means they’ve gotten past Harold, so scream your head off.”
“All right,” she said, not opening her eyes. I’d nearly made