“These folks want to know the same thing,” Zack says. “But I have to go see Mindy. I have to talk to her.”
“Is she in any kind of shape to talk?”
“I don’t know because no one will let me see her.” He glares at the Vail policewoman who’s been trying to take his statement about Lauren and Juliet.
Woody steps in, flashes his credentials. “CBI, Special Agent Stockton. I’ll take responsibility for Mr. Armstrong. I agree he should be allowed to see his daughter.”
The gambit works. Zack is freed for the moment. Parks takes Kat’s lead, which doesn’t make her happy, but Zack kneels and says, “Hang in, sweet girl. I have to run upstairs to see Mindy.”
She barks once as if saying OK, fine, but hurry, and he sprints toward the elevator with Woody on his heels.
Mindy is, of course, still in isolation after the treatment. Oliver, garbed in blue and wearing a mask, is in the room with her, and two sheriff’s deputies stand guard. Mindy is clearly scared; he can see her straining to see out of the room’s door from her bed.
The nurse hands him a phone. “Gotta talk to her on the room phone, we’re not ready to let in anyone from the outside yet without you getting scrubbed down.”
“Just patch me in.”
He stands by the window to the room, and Mindy settles a bit when she sees him. Oliver puts a phone in her hand, and her tired, worn voice comes across the line.
Mindy has one question for him.
“Where’s my mom?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“What’s going on?”
“Juliet is sick. She got into some poison. She’s in the ICU right now. The doctors think she’ll be okay, but it is a dangerous situation. Where’s Jasper?”
“I don’t know. All I know is no one is answering their phones, and there are cops everywhere, and the news is saying my mom did something wrong.”
“They are?”
She points to the television. He recognizes the outside of the hospital, the curved sidewalk by the parking lot. The sun is setting; the scene is being lit by the many lights of the news trucks. Mindy’s television is tuned to the local CBS affiliate out of Denver, and Zack realizes the story is out.
“Oh, God.”
“What the hell is happening?” Mindy demands. “Can you ask Dad?”
Zack turns to see Jasper striding toward him. “Speak of the devil. I will, honey. Just hold on a second. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. I’m tired.”
“That’s normal. I know you can’t sleep, but try to rest, okay? We’re going to figure all of this out.”
“Is Aunt J going to be okay? Tell me the truth.”
“She squeezed my hand a little bit ago, so yes, I think she will be. I sure hope so.”
“But is she going to wake up?”
Using two fingers, he traces an X on his chest, then holds them up next to his right ear. “She is. Scout’s honor.”
Mindy sags back against the pillows, and Jasper gestures for Zack to hand over the phone.
“Here’s your dad.”
“You’re my dad, too,” she says, her words broken by emotion, and he swallows down the lump in his own throat and gives her a blinding smile.
Jasper is in a fine fury, Zack can tell by the tightness in his voice. “Sweet pea, everything is going to be okay. We’re going to find your mom and talk to her. Please turn off the television. You don’t need to see any of this.”
“No. I want to know exactly what’s happening. Tell me what’s going on. I’m not a child, Dad.”
Jasper looks at Zack, beseeching, but Zack shrugs. “Might as well tell her what we know. It’s better she hears it from us than the reporters.”
Mindy nods vigorously.
Jasper swallows. “There’s been a development from Nashville. We think your mom knew your biological mom. We don’t know what that means, sweetheart, so—”
But Mindy isn’t stupid. “You can’t possibly be saying Mom stole me from Zack and his wife. Because that’s what the reporters are saying. That Mom murdered Vivian Armstrong and stole me.”
“Sweetheart, calm down—”
“Where. Is. Mom?” She is shouting now, half out of the bed. Oliver puts a restraining hand on her shoulder.
Jasper’s eyes close, and he whispers, “We don’t know.”
Zack watches Mindy’s face collapse, the tears begin. He pulls the phone from Jasper’s hand.
“We’re doing everything we can to find her, honey. You do us a favor, okay? If she calls here, you let us know, all right? We don’t want her getting hurt, we all just need to talk to her.”
Mindy’s mouth forms a tiny O as she grasps the situation. Her shoulders sag again, and when she speaks, she sounds like a little girl.
“I’ll tell if she calls. Promise. But I need to tell you something first.”
“What’s that?”
“Mom had letters taped to the back of her dresser. I was snooping, and I read them. They were between a woman named Liesel, and someone called V. The V person was writing from someplace called University Hospital.” She takes a deep breath. “V is Vivian. And I think Liesel is Mom.”
81
The furor grows. When the media find out Dr. Juliet Ryder, CBI, is in ICU clinging to life after being poisoned, the stories begin to coalesce. They are careful to use the word allegedly in front of everything to do with Lauren Wright.
Allegedly poisoned... Allegedly murdered... Allegedly stole...
Zack wanders the halls with Kat by his side, feeling utterly impotent. There is nothing he can do here except watch and wait. Pray for a quick and non-lethal outcome. Avoid the entrances and exits, where reporters lurk like starving wolves. The police are taking apart the Wrights’ house, looking for the letters Mindy mentioned.
Online and on air, the sort of gleeful befuddlement that follows any great criminal unveiling is underway. Twitter and Facebook explode. Tips come pouring in. Sightings abound. Talking heads are pulled in. No one has any idea what they’re talking about, but talk they do.
*
By 10:00 p.m., Lauren Wright is a household name.
And despite this myopic attention, nothing pans out.
No one has seen her. She has disappeared.
A statewide BOLO has been issued. The airports have been alerted. The CBI have added her to their Most Wanted list, which gains extra attention from law enforcement officials across the state.
Zack is disconcerted to see his own face, and Vivian’s, flash on the screen every few minutes. The photo of him is from his Army days. He is in uniform, unsmiling, shoulders broad, a beret cocked over his right eyebrow, his jaw square.
He barely recognizes himself.
He barely recognizes Vivian, either. The photo is not one he remembers. She is very pregnant, hands cradling her belly, a smirk on her lovely face. Someone close to her took this, he is certain. But who? And where did the media find it?
The guilt he’s stashed deep in his soul bombards him.
It is his fault. It’s always been his fault.
Mindy has finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, with a little help from Dr. Oliver, whose latest check of her levels says everything looks good, but they need to keep her stress down, so he slipped her a Mickey in the form of a mild sedative. She might be mad tomorrow, but for now, everyone’s tension has gone down a notch. Her body needs rest to heal. Without her, none of this matters anymore.
Juliet continues to hang on. She is still unconscious, now purposely so, but her blood gases are returning to normal levels, her blood chemistry’s getting back into line. The fomepizole is working. The dialysis will continue until morning, and she’ll stay intubated until they see the extent of the damage to her lungs. Tomorrow, they’ll talk about taking out the breathing tube. Letting her wake up. Getting the whole story. The patience needed for the next twelve hours seems impossible to bear.