Stand Alone (40 page)

“It was during a shift change. She put the girl in a wheelchair like she was being taken somewhere for tests or release.”

“No leads? No one called in with thoughts of who it might have been?”

Frank shook his head.

“There were calls, but nothing panned out. We chased everything down, but nothing came of it.”

Sheldon sat there, pondering.

“Let me look at the file,” he suggested.

Frank opened the file and handed it to him. Sheldon looked at the photo of the little girl. Frank had said she was a toddler, but she looked like a baby. Tiny, frail as a bird, her cheeks sunken and her limbs stick-thin. Her eyes were brilliant blue, looking old and out of place on a child.

“What happened to her? She looks like a holocaust victim!”

“She was abandoned in a locked apartment. Nearly starved to death before anyone found her.”

Sheldon shook his head in amazement.

“When you said abandoned
  
…
 
I thought, at gramma’s house, or in the ball pit at the mall or something. Not
  
…
 
that.”

He flipped through pages of the case summary, looking for anything that Frank might have missed, immersed in the case for so many years. His eyes focused on her name. Katie. He looked at the dates. The abduction was thirteen years ago. He schooled his expression to remain carefully blank and casual and flipped through more pages of the file, though he really didn’t see or take in anything else. A dark-haired, blue-eyed girl named Katie, kidnapped as a toddler thirteen years ago. It was too close to another story that he’d heard recently. But he wasn’t about to get Frank’s hopes up. He closed the file and handed it back to Frank, shaking his head.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “But nothing jumps out at me.”

Frank nodded, looking disappointed. They both attended to their drinks, minds on their own thoughts.

Time passed without Sheldon seeing the girl again, even though he watched for her at the skater hangouts.
 

Sheldon got back into the car as the radio started to squawk. Robertson jotted the details down on the scratch pad.

“Fifth and twelfth,” he repeated back, “motorist versus skater.”

Sheldon put the car into gear, grimacing.

“That’s not going to be pretty,” he predicted.

“What do you want to bet it’s a DOA?” Robertson challenged.

“No bets there,” Sheldon shook his head. “Dumb kids. Why do they have to play in traffic?”

The siren and lights were on, and it didn’t take long to bully their way through traffic, pulling over when they reached the crowd of spectators. As Sheldon got out of the car, he took a pair of gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. They were both surprised to see the skater sitting up and talking, her back to them.

“What happened?” Robertson questioned.

The motorist standing beside the car launched into her defense immediately.

“I looked before I pulled out! There was no one there. I don’t know where she came from—”

Robertson and Sheldon both looked at the intersection and where the car had stopped. If the girl was crossing in the crosswalk, she had obviously had the right of way. The car had a stop sign. Robertson closed in on the woman.

“Why don’t you show me where you stopped, and where you were when you hit her,” he suggested. “Sheldon, see how she is?”

Sheldon was already on his way over to see if the skater was okay. He moved around her to see her face and what kind of injuries she had, and was surprised to see the girl who called herself Katie.

“Well, I haven’t seen you for a while, where have you been?” he questioned, crouching beside her and reaching for her carotid pulse. She shied away from him. “It’s okay, just relax. Just need to do an examination and see how you are while we’re waiting for the ambulance.”

She held still and let him take her pulse. He glanced at his watch and counted it out. Fast, but strong.

“You hurt your arm?” he questioned.

The girl nodded, looking down at the arm she was holding against her body with the opposite hand. He could see plenty of road rash up both arms and across her jaw. He glanced down at her legs. The knees of her jeans were ripped, and her knees bloody, but neither was twisted around or obviously broken.

“How bad is the arm?” Sheldon questioned. “Can I see it?”

She moved her supporting hand gingerly, letting him see it a little better.

“It’s busted,” she said tightly. Her face was pale, especially against the backdrop of her long, dark hair. Her blue eyes shone bright and intense.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. How about the rest of you. Legs?”

“Just burned. And bruised where the car hit me.”

“No breaks there?”

“Better not be,” she said with gritted teeth. “I can maybe skate with my arm out of commission, but not with a busted leg!”

“I don’t think skating is what we need to be worried about right now. Let’s make sure that you are okay. Did you hit your head?”

She shook her head, jutting her jaw toward him.

“Landed on my face,” she said, looking downward toward the road rash on her jaw and cheek, “after I caught myself on my hands.”

“Ouch. How’s the jaw feel? No break there?”

“Would I be talking?”

He shrugged.

“You’d be surprised how well a person can seem after an accident, and then end up having very serious injuries. You write a guy off as being just fine, and then he dies the next day from an injury he didn’t even know he had. Don’t get any ideas about going anywhere until you’ve been cleared at the hospital. I won’t allow it.”

She grunted.

“Can’t exactly go anywhere until they set this arm, can I?”

“Good. Let’s be sensible about it, right?”

She nodded briefly.

“How about your belly? Anything hurt inside?”

“Feels fine.”

Sheldon could hear sirens approaching.

“That’ll be the ambulance,” he told her. “Once they give you a shot of Demerol, you’ll be feeling a lot better.”

The skater cast her eyes around her, without turning her neck.

“Where’s my board?” she questioned.

“I’ll look after it. You just worry about yourself.”

The ambulance pulled up, and Sheldon waited until they came over and he’d filled them in before leaving the girl. She watched him go, but didn’t ask him to stay with her. She’d be okay. He joined Robertson, who was writing down notes in his notepad as the driver still ranted on about skaters and how Katie had appeared out of nowhere. Robertson looked over at him.

“How is she?” he questioned.

“She’ll be okay, provided there aren’t any serious internal injuries. She’s got a broken arm, lots of abrasions from skidding across the road. I imagine she’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on.”

The driver let out a deep sigh.

“She’s going to be okay?” she said anxiously.

“It looks like it.”
 

“I was so afraid. After I hit her
  
…
 
I thought she was going to be lying there dead. I honestly did. When she sat up
  
…
 
I thought I was seeing things.” It all came out in an avalanche of words. All the defensiveness was gone, replaced with relief.

“If I was you,” Sheldon said slowly, “I’d buy her a new skateboard. A really nice one, not a cheap department store one. Because if she chose to sue you for damages
  
…”

The driver looked around and saw the skater’s shattered skateboard underneath her car. She gulped.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she agreed.

“Let me give you my number,” Sheldon pulled out a business card. “Get it right away. Today. Call me, and I’ll make sure that she gets it while she’s still at the hospital. She doesn’t have a fixed address, so it may be our only opportunity to make sure she gets it. Okay?”

The driver took his card and nodded gratefully.

“Great, thanks.”

It had been a long shift. Frank looked at his phone when it buzzed, and didn’t recognize the number. Frowning, he pressed “talk” and put it to his ear.

“Officer Sylvan.”

“Hey, Frank. This is Sheldon.”

“Oh, hi. What’s up, Sheldon?”

“Are you on shift, or are you free?”

“I’m wrapping up in about ten minutes. Why?”

“Well
  
…” there was a long pause, “I came across someone who may be involved in your cold case. I’m wondering if you could come up to the hospital to talk to her.”

“A witness?” Frank said sharply. “I’ve talked to all of the hospital staff.”

“She’s not one of the staff. Do you think you could come? I think it could be important to the case. And I don’t know how long she’ll be here.”

Frank dared not get his hopes up. He had been chasing this case for thirteen years. The chances that Officer Sheldon had managed to break it in a few short weeks, by accident more than anything, were remote. Sure, Marilyn had said that a set of fresh eyes might help, but what were the chances that Sheldon had actually run into someone who had seen something all of those years ago. Who could it be? Janitorial staff? Another patient? Frank had chased down everyone that could be chased.

“Okay,” he agreed, “I’ll head up as soon as my shift is over. You really think you have anything? It’s so cold.”

“I don’t know. It’s possible. But I don’t want to mess anything up. You’re the one who knows the case. You’re the one who should talk to her.”

“All right. Tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll meet you there.”

Sheldon gave him the unit number and room, and Frank wrote it down and hung up.

Justine lay in bed, eager to be on her way soon. But she was still feeling dizzy from the painkillers, and Sheldon, the officer who had promised to bring along her skateboard, had not yet shown up. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her body exhausted by the shock of the accident, the pain, and the opiates.

There was a tap at the door, and Justine started up, startled out of a dream that she didn’t even realize she was having. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the visitor.

“Officer Sheldon,” she yawned. “It’s about time.”

He smiled and nodded at her. He approached her bed and brought his hand out from behind his back. Justine looked at the unfamiliar long board, and then up at his face in confusion.

“I hope it’s your style,” Sheldon said, “I don’t really know what to look for in these things. It’s from the driver of the car who hit you.”

“Where’s
my
board?”

“It was pretty badly broken up. I’m sorry about that. Will this one do?”

Justine took it from him, and examined it closely, eyes sharp as she went over the materials, workmanship, and a careful analysis of the spin of the wheels. She nodded slowly.

“Yeah. It’s a good board. Thanks.”

“How are you feeling? Pretty dopey?”

She nodded, which made her dizzy, and she immediately regretted it.

“Yeah. Once I shake this off
  
…
 
I’ll be on my way.”

“There’s another officer coming to question you. He’ll be in shortly.”

Justine frowned and looked at his face.

“What other officer? Your partner? You already saw the accident scene, she hit me in a crosswalk. That’s her fault.”

“Oh, I agree. There’s just a few other questions to be cleared up,” he said vaguely.

“I have every right to cross the street. People think that skaters don’t have any rights, but I have as much right as anyone to be out there. She has to stop for me, even if she doesn’t like skaters.”

“I don’t think it was a matter of her not liking skaters. I think she just didn’t see you, or misjudged your speed. She was pretty upset about the whole thing.”

“Yeah,” Justine sneered, “I heard her complaining about how it was all my fault. Like I fell out of the sky in front of her car and intentionally got hit, right?”

Sheldon smiled.

“I’m sure she’d like us to believe that,” he agreed. “But she was pretty relieved when she heard that you were okay. When she got out of her car, she thought she was going to find you lying dead in front of the car.”

Justine flashed back to Christian’s accident, and she looked away, heartsick, trying to block the images out before they could overcome her.

Another officer came to the door and looked in. Sheldon nodded and motioned for him to enter. Justine studied the new officer, and a shiver ran through her, goose bumps rising on her arms. She didn’t know him, but there was something about his face
  
…
 
He walked up to her bed and looked at her curiously, and something in his expression changed.

“Your eyes
  
…” he said softly. “Katie
  
…
 
?”

An electric shock jolted through Justine. She stared at him. She caught her breath, and glanced over at Sheldon.

“You told him my name?” she questioned, trying to keep her voice steady. Her heart was racing, and she didn’t understand why. Of course Sheldon had told this new officer that her name was Katie. How else would he know? Sheldon had told him all about her.

“No,” Sheldon said, “I didn’t.”

“What
  
…
 
?”

The new officer took a step closer, and sat down on the edge of her bed, staring into her eyes.

“You’re Katie Kelly,” he said intensely, “aren’t you?”

“Kelly?” Justine repeated. “I didn’t know my last name. I only
  
…
 
I just used the name Katie, because it seemed right.”

He reached out and caught her by the hand, taking her uninjured one into his two big, rough hands.

“How could you even remember?” he questioned. “You were so small, when you were taken.”

Justine shook her head.

“I don’t remember,” she said. “Not really. Just in my dreams
  
…
 
just feelings
  
…”

They both just stared at each other, unasked questions in their eyes. Eventually, they both broke eye contact, and looked at Sheldon.