Breathless (17 page)

 

 

 

 

 

17

 

Matthew pulled in front of the white stone building behind two police cars and a white Chevrolet Malibu he recognized as Sheryl's car. He paused before entering. How angry was Riley at not knowing about his involvement in Charlie's death? Would he berate him or listen to the circumstances before making a decision on his guilt?

Phone calls to the church had been divided. Phyllis scolded him for not explaining the situation to Lydia beforehand. He could only imagine what Riley would say and expelled a weighted breath before climbing from the motorcycle.

Matthew stopped short upon seeing Lydia and Sheryl sitting with the sheriff though the glass window. Both women were pale as they talked.

“What's going on?” Matthew used his head to point as he spoke to Deputy Green.

“Seems someone mailed a finger to Ms. Frederickson.”

The air flew out of Matthew. She must be terrified, yet she sat, stone-faced, as if willing herself not to show any emotion. Her jaw was set tight, and she nodded instead of speaking.

Riley rose and walked from his office. “I'm going to have to forego lunch today.”

Matthew nodded. “I heard.” He glanced at Lydia. “How's she holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. According to the lab, it's the tip segment of a male pinkie finger. Or as we would say in the regular world, the top portion of a man's pinky.”

“Do you know who it belongs to?” A sick feeling rose inside Matthew. He had a guess, and his instincts were always good. He prayed he was wrong.

“Not yet. There are no prints in AFIS.”

“Is there any way you can get fingerprints for Warren Anniston to check against that pinky?” Matthew stared at Lydia, hoping his love for her didn't seep through his shirt.

“Warren. Why him?”

“It's pretty clear from this you aren't the target. If so, you'd have received the box, not Lydia. She's who this maniac's after.” Matthew had to fight to turn his attention from the brunette.

“I thought Warren was in Seattle,” Riley said.

“Last I heard, neither Lydia nor Sheryl have been able to reach him. I also phoned my friend he was to stay with. He hasn't heard from him either.”

“And going after a close friend would hurt her tremendously.” Riley's voice became barely audible.

“I suggest you check whether it's Warren's blood from the sample you obtained from her wall.”

He was grateful Lydia was in the other office and couldn't hear him. How would she react if Warren died as a way to hurt her? It might be enough for her to shut herself away and never come out. His eyes met hers. Pain showed in her expression. He couldn't be sure if it was from the stalker terrorizing her, or the hurt he'd inflicted.

Deputy Green answered the ringing telephone on the desk next to Matthew. “Sir, it's Anderson out on the north end. He says he needs to speak with you. Claims it's important.”

Riley snatched the phone.

“What is it, Anderson…? Well, I'll be. I'm on my way.” After hanging up, Riley let out a breath of relief. “You're not going to believe this. Two fishermen near Water View Park found some guy wandering around. He's been beat up, and his finger's missing. He said his name's Warren Anniston.”

 

****

 

Lydia waited in the hallway outside the hospital room as Riley questioned Warren. She tried her best to ignore Matthew as he stared down at her from the opposite wall. She needed to shut off her feelings for him. Too bad her heart wasn't listening.

“I can't wait until I find out who did this. Nobody messes with Warren.” Sheryl brushed tears with each angry word. “I've been taking care of him since I can remember.”

Lydia pulled Sheryl closer to her, remembering when they first met Warren in elementary school. He'd been a small child, so the bigger boys picked on him. For some reason Sheryl took a liking to him and became his protector.

When the door opened, Lydia blinked back to the current situation. A reality she no longer wished to contend with.

“He doesn't remember a thing,” Riley said. “The doctor says that's to be expected. He's dehydrated and has a nice knot on his head. There's a bit of hypothermia also. If he'd been hit any harder they'd never come across him.” Riley glanced at Lydia, explaining in a low tone. “He could have stayed unconscious and died from exposure.”

Sheryl let out a whimper.

Lydia hugged her tighter.

“Can we go in now?” Sheryl stood.

Lydia hesitated. Would Warren want to see her? After being held for weeks and beaten because he was her friend, she couldn't blame him if he blamed her. She swallowed down the bile climbing through her system. She needed to get away from here. It would benefit not only her physical being, but her heart as well. It might also keep everyone she cared about safe.

“The doctor said not to stay too long, he needs rest,” Riley said. “In a couple of days he should remember more.”

Tubes and wires ran from Warren's arms. The beeping of the blood pressure monitor was the only sound. Lydia had to smother a sob.

“Warren, are you all right?” Sheryl practically ran to his bedside. “Who did this to you? Who hurt you like this? You just let us know. Riley will lock them away so they'll never hurt you again.”

Lydia touched his arm above the IV. A bandage wound over his pinky down around his wrist on the other side.

“I'm sorry Warren. I'm so sorry.” A knot grew in her throat as tears burned her eyes.

“It's not your fault,” Warren whispered
out the words. “Besides, it's probably better if I stayed here. I knew Sheryl would miss me if I'd really left.”

Matthew paused upon entering, giving a sorrowful look. Lydia couldn't tell if it was because of Warren being hurt or their circumstances.

“Riley's left for the station. I wanted to check on how you're doing.” Matthew leaned past Lydia and patted Warren's shoulder. “I've already gotten some phone calls from other parishioners who want to know any way they can be of assistance.”

“I appreciate that.” Warren winced as he adjusted himself in the bed.

Lydia tried to halt the smell of Matthew's cologne invading her senses. As much as she craved to fall into his arms for comfort, she wouldn't allow herself to do so. She not only still harbored anger toward him, but also knew no one was safe with this mad man haunting her.

“Once the doctor says Warren is strong enough to leave, I'm taking him to Savannah to look after him,” Lydia said. “Once he's well, I'm going to take off.”

“What's to stop this guy from following you?” Concern covered Matthew's eyes. “At least if you're here, Riley can protect you.”

Lydia pulled Matthew off to the side. She fought the palpitations of her heart at the touch of his arm. “I can't have anyone else I care about getting hurt. I can't take much more.” Her tone lowered to a whisper. “I plan to take Sheryl along, and if I have to, I'll buy a gun.”

“We have a great chance now of getting the person doing this,” Matthew explained. “In a couple of days, after he's rested, Warren should be able to remember what happened. Then this nightmare will be all over.”

A lone tear ran down Lydia's cheek. When would the nightmare of her broken heart end?

“You shouldn't run,” Matthew said. “An agent I used to work with is coming to protect Sheryl.” He brushed a strand of hair from Lydia's forehead. “She'll be one-hundred percent safe. There's a guard posted out front of Warren's room, and no matter how much you fight, I plan to protect you.”

A thought then popped in her mind—but who will keep you safe?

 

****

 

Matthew slowly opened the door, looking in both directions as he went. He hoped some levity would help all those inside. Lydia and Sheryl stayed over with Warren while an officer stood guard outside. Visiting hours were in another hour. Both women looked up as Matthew tiptoed in. He put a finger to his lips, poking his head back out.

“Shh, I'm trying to avoid any disgruntled nurses.” He referred to the nurse the evening before who threw everyone out except Lydia and Sheryl. “I'm on a special mission.” Matthew overemphasized his steps and his shoes squeaked against the vinyl flooring. He stopped mid-step, contorting his face to the side, again searching the room, as if looking for someone to catch him before continuing.

Lydia's shoulders rose with each laugh. It gave Matthew hope she would forgive him, and they could move on with their lives.

“How's he doing?” Matthew stood next to Lydia's chair. His pulse beat in his ears as the aroma of her perfume glided over him.

“I'd be improving if these worry warts would stop hanging all over me.” Warren opened his eyes. “It doesn't help that the nurses wake me every two hours to shove a pill in or take my blood pressure.”

“Maybe this'll help.” Matthew tossed the bag, hitting Warren in the chest.

“Betty's glazed donuts. My favorite.” Warren stuck his nose in the bag and sniffed loudly. “The best smell in the world.”

“Wendy Moreland suggested them.” Matthew gave Lydia a wink. “She's asking about visiting with you.”

“Tell her I'm fine and thanks.” Warren lifted a donut, taking a bite. “Mmm. Good.”

Matthew's cell rang. “It's Riley,” he said as he looked at the caller ID. He stepped a few feet from the bed and answered the call.

“Matthew, it seems that box mailed to Lydia had been used for software parts from Computer Sense,” Riley said.

“That's strange.” Matthew turned his back on the other three. “One of his former co-workers, maybe?”

“That's not all. There's a cabin about two miles from the road where Warren was wandering around. It belongs to Donald Fisher, Warren's stepfather, and the owner of Computer Sense. We're bringing him in for questioning. Maybe you'd like to join us, in an unofficial capacity.”

“You bet I would.” After hanging up, Matthew relayed what Riley had said.

“I knew Donald was mad about my leaving, but I can't imagine he'd go to these extremes.” Warren looked at his bandaged finger before throwing the remainder of his donut into the bag.

“Most of the people working for him are probably aware of that cabin,” Matthew said. “Hopefully, we'll have some answers once Riley's done questioning him. I'll be over there if any of you need me. Pray something comes from it.”

“Do me a favor. Take these two home first,” Warren pleaded. “They're going to drive me crazy if they stay any longer. Besides, the doctor will be coming in soon, and they'll be taking me for some tests. It's ridiculous for them to sit around here waiting on me.”

“Come on ladies. You heard the man. Let's give him a break.” Matthew ushered them toward the door.

Lydia leaned over and kissed Warren's cheek. She then turned to Matthew. “Call as soon as they're done with Mr. Fisher.”

“I will.” Matthew pointed to Sheryl. “Ty Davenport, a former co-worker, is on his way to your place. He's one of the best, so you won't have to worry about anything happening. Just stay put until he arrives.”

“Is he cute?” Sheryl smiled.

Warren rolled his eyes.

“I'm not the best judge on that, but he's extremely married.”

“Couldn't have gotten a single man, could you?” Sheryl stuck her lip out in a pout as she bent to kiss Warren goodbye.

“I'll keep that in mind if we find ourselves in this situation again. And as for you.” He took hold of Lydia's hand. “Go straight home, lock up, and don't answer the door. I'll call Riley and have one of his deputies meet you there. I'll pick you up later to bring you back here.” When Lydia opened her mouth to speak, he added, “No arguments.”

She glared at him, but eventually nodded her agreement.

“I hope Riley gets to the bottom of this. It'll be so nice to finally be done with it,” Lydia said. “I feel stagnant with everything that's happened.”

“Once Warren remembers, this will all be over.” Matthew noticed Lydia had yet to remove herself from his grasp. It gave him additional hope she was softening toward him.

“Thanks, for bringing the donuts by,” Warren said as the three walked toward the door.

“That was real nice of you.” Lydia smiled and touched his arm.

Matthew's knees weakened. He only hoped he could fix things with this woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. However, he knew that wouldn't be possible if anyone else got hurt.

 

 

 

 

 

18

 

Matthew listened from the other side of the two-way mirror as Riley interrogated Donald Fisher. The man had a thin build, standing about five-foot-six. His pencil-thin mustache covered his upper lip, and his light colored hair gave the appearance of being bald. Would he have been able to overpower Warren?

“First off, you're not under arrest.” Riley opened a file on the table. “We need some information regarding the assault on Warren Anniston. We believe the same person is making threats to Ms. Frederickson.”

Mr. Fisher leaned forward in his chair. “How can you be sure he isn't making it up?”

“The fact that one of his fingertips has been cut off makes it highly unlikely.”

“His finger? Oh my. I'd thought that it was only a rumor.” Mr. Fisher's hand trembled as he placed it against his mouth. He grew pale. Fisher looked like he might faint before the interview even began.

“And they apparently kept him at your cabin in Water View Park.” Riley's straightforward expression gave no hint of emotion.

“At my cabin?” He gasped and did a quick cross over his upper body. He then stared at Riley. “You think I did this? Is that why you called me down here?”

“We aren't sure who's responsible. I'd like to get your whereabouts for the past few days.”

“Did Warren say I did this? If he did, he's lying. He's mad because I had to fire him.”

Matthew stepped toward the two-way window. Warren hadn't mentioned being fired. That could explain why he'd taken the job in Seattle. He was probably ashamed, and hoped it would remain a secret if he left. Too bad he didn't realize secrets have a way of being discovered, a lesson still fresh on Matthew's mind

“Warren's memory's a bit fuzzy. The doctor says it should clear in a day or two,” Riley responded. “A list of all your employees would be beneficial.”

“Why would it be an employee of mine? Most people who live in the area know about my cabin.” Mr. Fisher wiped at the sweat on his forehead. “Even James Newman and his son used it when they went fishing.”

“And there's this.” Riley placed the white box that had previously held Warren's pinky on the table. “I believe this came from your firm. It was used to mail Warren's bloody finger to Ms. Frederickson.”

Mr. Fisher's Adam's apple jumped as he examined the box through the plastic evidence bag. The finger was gone, but blood stains lingered.

“I'll drop the list off later this afternoon,” he whispered.

“We appreciate that.” Riley leaned forward. “And your whereabouts?”

“I'll give you an itinerary. I'll also ask my employees if there's been anything suspicious going on at the office.” Mr. Fisher pushed himself from his chair. “You wouldn't expect this to happen in such a small town. It goes to show you, there's nowhere safe anymore.”

Matthew walked out of the room and joined Mr. Fisher and Riley in the hallway. “Mr. Fisher, I was listening in on your conversation with Riley. When the sheriff told you about Warren, you asked if he could have hurt himself. Why would you suggest that?”

Mr. Fisher glanced between the two men. “When I come back with the list of names, I'll also bring his computer.”

Matthew and Riley watched Mr. Fisher as he walked out the door.

“I wonder what that's all about.” Riley continued to stare after the man.

“Hard telling. Might be nothing.” Matthew hesitated. “How's Lydia holding up?”

“Are you talking about the stalker or your involvement with Charlie?” Riley led the way to his office.

“Both.” Matthew lowered himself into a chair.

“Better with her stalker than you. But she's not who you need to worry about. Her family's got a lot of pull in this area, and once they get with Newman, I imagine you'll be out of a job.”

“I figured as much.”

“Of course, I still have an opening, and I hire who I want.” Riley sat down in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you make of Fisher?”

“He's very knowledgeable about computers. Whoever this guy is after Lydia, he'd have to be very technically savvy. However, Fisher went deathly pale when you showed him the box.”

“It could be because his cabin and supplies were used. Can't be easy to take in.”

“It could also be because he's afraid he's about to be discovered. It also bothers me that Newman is familiar with the area.” Phyllis's words of Newman's attraction to Lydia rushed through Matthew's mind.

 

****

 

Matthew hesitated before getting off the bike. He'd hoped he'd have some good news for Lydia after the interview with Fisher. Unfortunately, there hadn't been enough to hold him and no proof he'd been involved at all. Matthew's heart hurt as he trudged up the stone walkway.

Would Lydia ever be able to forget what he did to her brother? His legs felt like they carried cement blocks as he walked to her front steps. How could he have been so stupid? He should have told her. He sucked in a deep breath and rapped on the door. The police car sat in front, but no officer was in sight.

“I'm almost ready,” Lydia said upon opening the door. “Sheryl called and said your friend made it to her house.”

“She'll be safe with him around.” Her clean scent of gardenia filled the air. Matthew wanted to drown in the flowery scent.

“I hope so.” Lydia paused and glanced around. Her eyes looked anxious, and a frown sat upon her face.

“What's wrong?” Matthew stepped inside. “Did you get another phone call?”

“No, I just had this feeling someone was in here with me earlier. There was a strange smell, and I thought I heard a noise.”

“Where's the officer Riley sent over?”

“I don't know.” She frowned. “I saw him walk around the house a bit ago. Maybe he saw somebody.”

“Stay on the porch.” Matthew walked around the downstairs inside Lydia's house. There
was
a strange odor. Almost medicinal. One she wouldn't recognize, but he did.
Chloroform.

Lydia stood in the threshold, a concerned look in her eyes. Matthew hated to tell her the truth, but he didn't want another secret between them.

“I think you're right. Someone was here. There's dirt from a boot print inside your back door.” He glanced at her feet. “I don't imagine you wear that large of a size.”

“I think I'll stay at the hospital until Warren gets out. Between the guard Riley posted, the nurses and doctors running in and out, there'd be too many people for anyone to try anything.”

“That might not be a bad idea. Maybe you can also stay with Sheryl for a day or two. She's got Ty, so you should be safe there.” Matthew glanced up at the sky. While clear, it was still a bit chilly out. “Why don't you put on something heavier. The weatherman mentioned the possibility of snow.”

Lydia glanced around. “I wonder where the deputy is. He might have seen someone leaving and went after them.”

“I'll call Riley, and let him know.” Matthew knew most officers would call it in if they'd seen something. “Don't worry. We'll figure out who this is.”

He led her to the motorcycle while he dialed Riley's number. Once he completed his call, Lydia took hold of his arm.

“I want to know about my brother,” she said.

“What do you want to know?” Matthew felt a stone drop into the pit of his stomach. He swore he heard it echo when it hit. But after all he'd done, he owed her this much.

“Everything.”

He stared into her eyes and saw pain. If knowing helped relieve some of it that was the least he could do. He leaned back on the motorcycle.

“I was working undercover and had infiltrated a motorcycle gang responsible for bringing drugs into the Miami area. The goal was to catch the guy bringing them into the country. Charlie happened to be part of the gang.”

“A big part?”

Matthew let out a heavy breath. This was going to be harder than he realized. “We're not exactly sure what his part was. He joined before I came along. His position wasn't very high. I never saw him hurt anyone though, he just dealt.”

“Giving drugs to people is hurting them. Look at Jimmy.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don't sugarcoat any of this to spare my feelings. I want to know the truth.”

Matthew nodded and looked at the ground, hoping to make it easier. “We'd finally got the guy who was flying in a private jet, bringing drugs from Columbia. The meeting went down in an alley in Miami. After the bust, another crew of agents arrived. They separated the group between those violent and those considered not. They hoped the nonviolent ones would testify if given a reduced sentence. Three guys and a couple girls were standing off to the side. Charlie was one of them.” A shudder overtook Matthew as he recalled that day.

“Was he handcuffed?”

“No. He was standing by his bike and not considered a flight risk so they hadn't cuffed him.” Matthew let out a long breath. “They should have followed procedure.”

“What happened next?” Lydia bit down on her bottom lip.

“One of the new agents saw him going into his pocket. He pulled out something shiny. The rookie yelled he had a gun. It turned out to be a lighter.” Matthew ran his hand down his face. “It was the first time in my seven year career I wished I'd missed.”

“What happened to you?” She wiped at a tear straggling down her face. “Were you punished for killing him?”

“No. It was ruled an accidental shooting. The rookie got reprimanded and sent back to training. He eventually got a desk job. He wouldn't have been any good in the field after that. He was pretty shook up, and he'd never trust his instincts again.”

Lydia didn't say anything. Her jaw remained tight.

He lifted himself from the bike when Deputy Green arrived.

“I left the agency after that,” he said before Green joined them. “I couldn't be sure it wouldn't happen again, and I couldn't take the chance of killing another innocent kid.” A release came over Matthew's soul at telling her the story. It felt good to finally get it off his chest.

Matthew a remained silent as Deputy Green went into her house. No words were spoken until Green returned.

“I took pictures of that boot print,” the deputy said. “I'm not sure if anything will come of it, but we'll give it a try. For some reason Jones isn't responding. I'm going to call in a couple of technicians regarding the odor. When they get here, I'll look around and see if Jones isn't off eating someone's homemade cookies.” He let loose a laugh, making Matthew unsure whether he was joking or not. “I'll catch up with you at the hospital later.”

“Thank you.” Lydia kept her eyes on Green as he walked around the side of the house. She turned to Matthew, her face still stone and her voice low and tense. “I guess we'd better go.”

Matthew was bothered by Green's lack of concern, but that might be the way small towns did things. He'd make sure to mention it to Riley later. He climbed on the motorcycle. Lydia waited until he started it to get on behind him. His heart raced when her arms encircled his waist. They had a twenty minute drive to the hospital. He loved the feeling of her holding on to him, and he wished it could be like this always.

 

****

 

The car came behind them faster than he realized. A teenaged driver, probably texting. There was no shortcut to the hospital, so Matthew had to take the old highway.

Matthew swerved into the other lane to avoid being hit by the speeding car. It followed. Matthew accelerated, avoiding the near collision. The speedometer read forty. On the curve running to Lomax he checked his speed again, fifty-five. The car had to slow at the curve. One more turn, and he'd catch a side road and lose it. The sedan inched up on the straightaway.

Lydia tightened her grip. Matthew prayed as they came to the next curve. As he rounded it, he crossed the lane to stay the momentum. A fallen tree blocked the road. He had no choice. He had to go off.

The bike skidded down an incline before coming to a jerky stop and tipping over. He removed his helmet and shook his head to get his bearings.

“Lydia.”

She removed the black helmet.

“Are you all right?” Matthew reached out a hand to help her.

“Yeah. How about you?” She rose to her feet and brushed dirt from her jeans.

Bang!

Birds overhead flew from the branches. The shot echoed in the air.

“Get down!” Matthew shoved Lydia behind a large oak tree. “

Lydia nodded and glanced around. “I don't see him.” She pulled out her cell. “No signal.”

Another loud blast reverberated in the cold air.

Matthew jerked back from the blow. Pain seared through his right shoulder.

“Matthew!” Lydia knelt beside him. She touched Matthew's cheek. Concern filled her eyes. “The lodge is about two miles over the hill. There's a first aid kit and other supplies. Also a working phone.”

Blood soaked his shirt beneath his jacket. It was cold against his skin.

“Can you make it?” She had yet to remove her hand from his face.

He nodded and lifted himself from the ground. She wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him up the hill.

Another shot!

This one was farther away. Matthew hoped that meant the shooter didn't follow. Matthew had promised he'd protect Lydia. Unfortunately, with the loss of blood, he wasn't sure how much longer he would be conscious and able to keep that vow.