Stone Cold (13 page)

Needing to calm and clear her head, she went for an aimless walk through downtown, finding herself at the public library, an ornate building that was home to a bank in its earlier life. It was cool inside, the quiet comforting. She sank into a soft chair in one of the reading rooms and closed her eyes and meditated, concentrating on her breathing, shoving Dwayne to the periphery. Half an hour later, she was back on the street.

She tried Bonnie again, knowing what she had to tell her but uncertain how she would say it. When she got Bonnie’s voice mail, she called the ER, grateful that she recognized the voice of the nurse who answered.

“Emergency room.”

“Eddie, is that you? It’s Alex Stone.”

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up Alex? You looking for Bonnie?”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to reach her. You guys must be getting slammed and she’s probably tied up with patients.”

“Nope. All we’ve got is a kid with a bellyache and an old lady with a twisted ankle. But you aren’t the only one looking for her.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Black dude was in here a few minutes ago asking for. Said he had something for her and wanted to know if I knew where she lived.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I didn’t know but that he could leave whatever it was with me and I’d give it to her, and he said no thanks, he was the only one who could give it to her.”

Alex struggled to keep her voice under control. “Do you know where she is?”

“Not my day to watch her. You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just in a hurry. Can you page her and ask her to call me right away? Tell her it’s urgent.”

“Sure thing.”

Alex was at the entrance to the parking garage when Bonnie called.

“I know why you’ve been trying to reach me. The judge let Dwayne go. Don’t worry. I’m fine,” Bonnie said, hurtling her words at Alex, not giving her a chance to say hello.

Alex leaned against the exterior wall of the garage, relieved that Bonnie was okay but not surprised at the chill in her voice.

“How could you possibly know? I just left the courthouse an hour ago.”

“Because the hospital’s director of security got a call from the police warning them that Dwayne had threatened me. He summoned me to his office so he could tell me the good news and promise me they’re going to protect me from that fucking asshole client of yours.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, is right. I was in his office when Eddie paged me and told me about your call and the black guy who came looking for me and who wanted my address and who I assume was Dwayne.”

“I feel terrible.”

“About what?” Bonnie asked, her tone sharp as a scalpel.

“About what happened and that you had to hear it from someone else. You must be furious with me.”

“You aren’t the one who let him go.”

Alex dreaded telling Bonnie that she was the one who had asked the judge to release Dwayne. She’d leave that confession for later, after they’d polished off a bottle of wine.

“What are they going to do? The security people, I mean.”

“The police emailed a photograph of Dwayne and it’s being circulated to all the hospital’s guards. And they’re putting a guard in the ER who will walk me to and from my car.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes, it is, in the same way fixing a broken leg is good except that not breaking your leg would be even better.”

“I know. I get that and I’m really sorry. Tommy Bradshaw says that the police will have a patrol car keep an eye on our house.”

“Swell. The neighbors will be thrilled.”

Alex bit her lip. This was Bonnie at her angriest. Cold, clipped, and distant.

“You sound so calm.”

“Would you rather I fell apart in front of my colleagues?”

“No, it’s just that—”

“Forget it. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

Alex struggled for something to say. “Just be careful. Please.”

“Great advice. Thanks,” Bonnie said and hung up.

Alex pressed against the concrete wall, crunched her eyes, and massaged her temples. An image flashed in her head of Dwayne straddling Bonnie, forcing her legs open, one hand over her mouth, so real she jumped into the middle of the sidewalk, gasping, her heart thumping. Bonnie was safe at the hospital. Alex knew that. But once Bonnie headed for home, all bets were off.

Whatever did happen, she accused herself, was on her. Though Alex understood that wasn’t true in any rational sense, she understood just as well that the rational had little chance against the combination of fear, guilt, and anger boiling her insides.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go back to her office, because she’d have to explain to Robin Norris everything that had happened, and why, in spite of that, she had to continue to represent Dwayne. It was an argument she knew she wouldn’t win. As if on cue, her phone rang again. Caller ID said it was Robin. Alex ignored the call, sighing when the ringing stopped and her phone beeped, flashing a message on her screen that she had one missed call and one missed voice message.

“Crap,” she said, turning the phone off and stuffing it in her pants pocket.

She thought about going home and having the first of several stiff drinks. She didn’t believe in finding courage in the bottom of a bottle, but it would take the edge off. And leave her borderline incoherent, giving Bonnie another reason to be angry and, worse, disappointed at her weakness. Scratch the impulse to get drunk.

There was only one thing she could think of doing. Find Dwayne. Talk to him. Tell him that she knew that he’d threatened Bonnie. Tell him that the police were giving her round-the-clock protection. Tell him that Rossi was looking for an excuse to put a bullet in him. Tell him whatever it took to convince him to stay away from Bonnie and hope he’d let something slip that she could use to get him convicted for the Chapman and Henderson murders. Tell him that she was looking out for his best interests. Be his lawyer. Lie to him. And if none of that worked, do whatever it took to protect Bonnie.

Chapter Twenty-Four

HANK ROSSI HAD A PLAN, and step one was to ignore Mitch Fowler. The idea that a gang of minimum-wage hospital guards could protect Bonnie Long was a joke, almost as big a joke as hoping a patrol car would slow-roll past Bonnie’s house at the exact moment Dwayne Reed was kicking in the front door.

Step two was to go to Truman Medical Center and have a face-to-face with Dr. Long, a reality check in case she had any doubts about who and what she was up against. He’d lay it out for her and give her a choice. Listen to him or be the next name on Reed’s list.

Step three was a come-to-Jesus with Dwayne. He’d poke and prod him until Reed’s manly pride got the better of him. One swing at Rossi and Reed would be back behind bars. Problem solved until some shit-for-brains judge let him out again. At least that would give him time to build a strong enough case against Reed to convince a jury to throw away the key.

Rossi had been to Truman Medical many times to interview witnesses, victims, and suspects, but this was the first time he’d done a threat assessment of the premises. There were multiple entrances to the hospital guarded by nothing besides security cameras, which would only be useful after the fact. If Reed was smart enough to turn his face away from the cameras, assuming someone was actually watching the monitors, he’d have no trouble getting inside undetected.

Once inside, he had the added advantage of knowing where to find Dr. Long. Still, Rossi didn’t think Reed would make his play where there were likely to be witnesses, some of whom might try to stop or capture him.

The parking lot was a different story. Reed could easily hide among the cars, wait for his chance, and put a bullet in Dr. Long without ever being seen. If he wanted to make good on his promise to rape her, he could force his way into her car and make her drive them away. A security guard escort might be enough to get her safely out of the lot unless Reed had lost all control over his killing appetite.

Rossi knew the greater risk was the drive home. Reed could follow her, jacking her car if circumstances were right. But the greatest risk was inside her house, where they would be alone. All Reed had to do was find out where she lived and bide his time. If he had waited this long to kill the Hendersons, he had proved one thing. He was a patient man.

Rossi finished his tour of the parking lot. Satisfied that Reed wasn’t there, he went to the emergency room, stopping at Patient Check-In, where a nurse whose name tag identified him as Eddie Tate was glued to his computer.

“Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie looked up from the computer screen. “Do I know you?

Rossi flashed his badge. “Now you do. Where can I find Dr. Long?”

“This about the guy who threatened her?”

“You know about that?”

“That’s one thing HIPAA doesn’t cover, dude.”

“Just tell me where I can find her.”

“Through the double doors. She’s back there somewhere.”

Rossi stepped through the doors. The emergency room was a large square, with a nurses’ station in the center and patient rooms lining the walls. It was quiet, a nurse coming out of one room and going into another.

A security guard sat on a stool next to a counter at the back of the nurses’ station, his belly flooding his lap, a cup of coffee and a half-eaten Danish on the counter. He was thumbing his smartphone, grinning at the screen. Angry Birds, Rossi guessed.

Bonnie Long stood at a counter at the front of the nurses’ station studying a patient’s chart. Rossi hadn’t paid much attention to her when he arrested Reed. This time was different. He took a moment to assess her, just as he had the premises.

Her long blond hair fell across her face. She pulled it back behind her ear, revealing a beautiful woman, with high cheekbones, alabaster skin, and eyes that even from a distance he could tell were intense. Her posture was erect, poised but not stiff. There was nothing about her that suggested her life was in danger. She was focused on the job at hand, taking care of her patient, not cowering and falling apart like most people would have if it were their turn in the barrel. She struck him as someone who’d have the sense to get out of the line of fire.

“Dr. Long,” Rossi said as he walked toward her.

She turned toward him, her face morphing in an instant from brow-furrowed puzzlement to a nodding flash of recognition to a pressed-lip smile.

“Detective Rossi, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What can I do for you, Detective?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“I’ve already been warned about Dwayne Reed, if that’s what you mean.”

“A warning tells you what to be afraid of. It doesn’t tell you what to do about it.”

“I’m not afraid, Detective. The hospital is taking all necessary precautions.”

“Unless I miss my guess, you’re smart enough to be afraid, smart enough not to show it, and smart enough to know the hospital can’t protect you,” Rossi said, tilting his head at the security guard.

Bonnie glanced at the guard, then looked back at Rossi, shaking her head, her face grim, concessions that Rossi was right. She took a quick, deep breath.

“And you can?”

“If you do exactly as I tell you without complaining, asking questions, or telling me that you’ve got a better idea.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m listening.”

“I’m going to have a talk with Reed. He’s not long on self-control. With any luck, he’ll give me a reason to arrest him. Second time around, the judge will have to set bail high enough to keep him locked up. Until then, you stay put.”

“And what if Dwayne behaves and you can’t arrest him? Am I supposed to check in and get a room at the hospital?”

“You’re supposed to stay put until I come back for you. Don’t go to your car. Don’t go for a walk. Don’t step out the door unless we’re holding hands. I’ll follow you home and make sure your house is secure.”

“And leave me there? Or will you stand guard outside my door and take me to and from work for the rest of Dwayne’s life?”

She was right—annoying, but on the money. He couldn’t protect her forever or even overnight. They both knew that. All he wanted was to keep her alive until he had a better plan.

“Let’s take it one step at a time. Isn’t that what you tell your patients?”

“Sure, but I’m wearing a white coat. They have to listen to me.”

“I’ve got a badge. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“It would if Dwayne was still in jail. If you arrest him, how are you going to stop him from sending one of his buddies after me?”

Rossi raised his palm, trying to slow her down. “So now you’re a doctor and an expert on gangs?”

“Doctor, yes. Expert on gangs, no, but my girlfriend is. She’s told me all about Dwayne and you, for that matter.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow. “Your girlfriend? Who’s that?”

“Alex Stone. She’s Dwayne’s lawyer. We’ve been together for seven years. Are you going to protect her too?”

Rossi shook his head. Some cases needed a shove to go south, like a sloppy cop who bungles a search or an overeager reporter who gets the story wrong. But this case was barreling downhill all on its own.

“Alex Stone is your girlfriend?”

“You don’t approve? Alex did say you were a homophobic asshole, not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Rossi had misjudged Bonnie. She wasn’t going to fall in line, at least not without busting his chops.

“I’ll give you the asshole part, but I don’t care about the rest.”

“They why give Alex such a hard time?”

“Because I don’t like shitbags like Reed or the lawyers that help them beat murder raps.”

“So gay bashing is how you get over that?”

Rossi felt the color rise in his face. She had him on his heels. “Like I said, I’ll give you the asshole part.”

“Does that mean you’ll protect me and not my lover?”

“No. It just means it’s going to be a lot harder. When’s the last time you talked to Alex?”

“She called a little bit ago.”

“What did she tell you?”

Bonnie sighed. “I didn’t give her a chance to tell me anything. The hospital’s director of security was briefing me about Dwayne when she called. I was pretty angry.”