Rock Bottom (Imogene Museum Mystery #1) (22 page)

“
We gave them baths,” Ford said. “You have to be clean in a hospital.”

I wondered if Ford had taken a bath, too. It didn
’t look like it.

Tuppence laid across my legs and settled her muzzle in the blankets. I rubbed her silky ears. What a sweet dog.

“This is the best, you guys. Thanks so much.”

“
There’s more,” Ford said. He unzipped his coveralls to mid chest revealing red thermal long underwear and an orange fluff ball tucked inside.

“
You found Tommy!”

“
Sure is a friendly fellow. Eats a lot.”

A muffled, squeaky purr started.

“Ford, he’s a stray. He needs a good home. Why don’t you adopt him?”

Ford
’s stumpy grin spread wide, and his eyes lit up. “Really?”

“
Yes. It’s obvious he likes you.”

“
Well, I can do that,” Ford said, zipping up the coveralls and holding the sandwiched lump against his heart.

“
I heard you’re going home tom—” yesterday’s nurse in a fresh set of Tasmanian Devil cartoon scrubs stopped short in the doorway. “Oh. You have visitors.”

Mac snatched his cap off, and Ford stared. The effect of a pretty woman.

She stammered a little at the attention. “O-oh, a-and a dog.”

Tuppence thumped her tail.

“I hope it’s all right,” I said.

“
Just don’t let the shift supervisor see. I won’t tell.”

Mac stuck out his hand.
“Mac MacDougal, friend of Meredith’s.”

“
Nancy Riley.”

Mac held her hand too long, and Ford chortled,
“Nurse Nancy.”

“
The patient’s had a long day,” Nancy said. “You can see her again tomorrow before she goes home. Is one of you giving her a ride?”

“
Sheriff Marge’ll want to do that,” Mac said.

Nancy
tugged on Tuppence’s leash, and the dog hopped to the floor. “Quick. The hall’s empty.”

Ford waved, still grinning. Tommy purred incognito.

Nancy washed her hands and checked my IV bag. “The one in the coveralls, does he have a medical condition?” She pointed to her own chest. “The bulge — here?”

“
Cat,” I replied.

“
Ahh,” Nancy said, but her look indicated she didn’t fully comprehend. “Well, let’s take out the IV, shall we?”

o0o

Julian arrived bearing a vase filled with daisies and bachelor’s buttons. No one had brought me chocolate. Was it taboo these days — not healthy or something?

He pulled a chair up beside the bed.
“How are you?”

“
Okay. I’m going home tomorrow.”

“
I heard. Good.” He rested his elbows on his knees and stared out the window.

“
Hey,” I said softly to bring his attention back. “How are
you
?”

He just shook his head, so I reached out my hand. He sort of had to take it. I squeezed.

“When’s the service?”

“
Saturday.” His voice was weary, flat.

“
Can I come?”

“
Yeah. I’d like that. It’ll be small. Esperanza — she’s been our housekeeper since before Bard was born — the Levines, Marge, you.”

“
I think George would want to come. It might help him, too, you know, to … finish.”

“
You’re right.” Julian nodded. “I’ll go see him tomorrow. I need to thank him.”

“
Yeah,” I whispered.

CHAPTER
23

Sheriff Marge came in while a new nurse was showing me how to fit the sling on my right arm and across my left shoulder.

“Sheriff’s chauffeur service,” she announced.

I winced.

“Sorry,” the nurse said. “It’s tricky when you have cracked ribs too. You’re probably going to need help with this for the first few days until you get the hang of it.”

“
Or just not shower,” I said.

“
Huh-uh,” Sheriff Marge grunted. “We’ll work something out.”

The nurse commandeered a cart and loaded all of my flowers. She turned the cart over to Sheriff Marge so she could push me in the wheelchair.

“Hospital policy,” she said when Sheriff Marge huffed.

We stopped by Greg
’s room and found Betty keeping him company. A vase of yellow carnations sat on his bedside table, but more than that — he had
three
boxes of chocolates. Why did he get all the good stuff?

“
Are those for me?” Greg asked.

“
Yes,” I answered. “Sheriff Marge, would you?” I pointed to the shelf under the television. The nurse helped Sheriff Marge unload the cart.

“
I was joking,” Greg said.

“
I’m not. I don’t have room for all of these in my trailer. They’re better where more people can enjoy them. Any idea how long you’ll be here?”

“
Another day or two at least.”

“
He’s coming home with me when he’s released,” Betty said. “I had five children on a farm. I know all about caring for broken bones.”

I smiled at Greg, and he smiled back. Betty was a far better mother than his real one.

“And I haven’t forgotten you and Tuppence promised to come for a tour, Meredith,” Betty said.

“
When I can drive, we’ll be there. And I promise to drive safely from now on,” I said.

“
Speaking of driving, Greg,” Sheriff Marge interrupted, “the insurance adjuster was at the impound lot today, looking at your car. It’s a total loss. They’re figuring out how much to write the check for.”

“
I can’t believe I forgot to set the parking brake.”

“
Could be it popped off. I’ve seen that happen before.”

Greg sighed.
“Well, it’s done now.” He turned to me. “I’ll be back at the museum as soon as I can hobble around.”

“
And make a petroglyph info sheet so my deputies and I know what to look for when we’re searching wilderness land for drugs or missing persons — or whatever.” Sheriff Marge gave him the no-nonsense look over the top of her glasses. “The Confederated Tribes are very interested in your hypothesis.”

Greg was still beaming when we said good-bye.

I eased onto the bench seat in Sheriff Marge’s Explorer. “Any chance you could drive below the speed limit and avoid all potholes?”

“
If I get an emergency call, I have to go.”

“
I know,” I grumbled. “I heard you’re attending Bard’s funeral Saturday. Could I beg another ride from you?”

“
I was counting on it.”

We rode in companionable silence until Sheriff Marge turned off the highway and pulled up in front of the courthouse.

“How are you holding up?” Sheriff Marge asked. “I have something to show you.”

I unclenched my teeth.
“I’m going to be uncomfortable no matter where I am, so yeah — I’m curious.”

Sheriff Marge led me down to the chilly courthouse basement and into a room with no furniture and a big window.

The room smelled as though all the residual cigarette smoke from a bygone era had settled into the basement and rotted. There was also a hint of moldy linoleum and the chemical powder scent of an air freshener — an exercise in futility.

Sheriff Marge pressed the buzzer on an intercom box and said,
“Okay, Dale, bring ‘em in.”

The door to the room on the other side of the window opened, and a line of men walked in. The first wore slate blue coveralls with his name embroidered on the chest in red cursive letters. Jerry. Some looked like they
’d slept on a park bench last night, others a little more presentable.

I realized I was looking through a one-way mirror. The next man to enter made the breath catch in my throat.

“Wait until they’re all in,” Sheriff Marge cautioned. “Then I want to know if you recognize any of them.”

Dale
’s voice sounded eerie through the speaker. “Turn and face the mirror. Hold up your number.”

The men did as instructed.

“Two and five,” I said, still holding my breath. “They’re the ones.”

“
Let’s make this official,” Sheriff Marge said. “The ones who what?”

“
Who struggled with Bard at the end of the dock, who knocked him unconscious and tried to roll him into their boat but missed and rolled him into the river instead.”

“
Which one knocked Bard on the head?”

“
Five.”

“
You sure?”

“
Yes.”

Sheriff Marge buzzed the intercom.
“Alright. We’re finished.”

The door in the other room opened, and the men filed out.

“I’m real glad you didn’t pick number eight,” Sheriff Marge said. “Jerry’s our custodian. He fills in when we’re short.” She laughed. “We had to pull all the meth-heads and driving-while-suspendeds we could find just to get a reasonable line-up.”

“
But how did you find those two?”

“
Henry was fooling around in one of his experimental choppers yesterday and spotted them on Graves Island. They’d had engine trouble, flooded it trying to get it restarted, then bent the shaft when they hit rocks near the island. At least that’s what we think happened. They were cold and hungry, but they aren’t talking. They’re on ICE holds for now.”

I shivered.
“What about Bard?”

“
When we retrieved their boat, we found a ten-pound short-handled sledge hammer in the water below. They probably threw it overboard. There are traces of blood and hair in the boat, maybe from the hammer. The medical examiner’s hurrying to compare the hammer to the indentation in Bard’s skull so he can release the body for the funeral. He’ll have DNA from the samples checked against Bard, too.”

Sheriff Marge moved in front of me and held my gaze.
“You also need to know the ME determined the injury to Bard’s brain was sufficient to cause death. Bard would have died within a few minutes even if he hadn’t been in the water, well before an ambulance could have arrived. The prosecuting attorney is going to charge number five with murder.”

I blinked back tears.

“You couldn’t have saved him, Meredith. There was nothing you could have done,” Sheriff Marge said softly. “Okay?”

I nodded.

“I think he may have been killed as retribution for my raiding the grow. We all feel a measure of guilt in this.” Sheriff Marge sighed and looked away. “I think at this point, Mort would say God’s grace is sufficient. I’m counting on it — I have to.” She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes.

“
What about the gash on Bard’s forehead?”

“
Postmortem, according to the ME. Probably hit a rock or submerged log while moving with the current.” Sheriff Marge heaved a sigh and replaced her glasses. “I gotta make a call, then I’ll take you home. Wait here.”

I pressed my forehead against the cool mirrored glass and closed my eyes. My knees were trembling. My mind skipped back to that dark night and the horrible scene captured in the truck
’s headlights.

A life cut short. Julian would have gladly traded places with his son. Would I have traded places with Greg, if given the chance?

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for a life spared.” I thought for a minute. “Make that two lives — mine included.”