The perfect alibi.
Or the perfect way to catch him in a lie. With cell phone records or the hospital’s security video. Problem was, at this point a judge would deny any request for a search warrant. Which meant the cell carrier was out. He may, however, be able to sweet-talk the hospital into a little peek.
He returned his focus to the interview at hand. “Can you remember anything else about Dixie from that night? Anything that jumps out at you?”
He thought a moment. “Just that her Mustang was in the lot when we left.”
“You didn’t find that strange?”
“Nope. It wasn’t the first time, if you know what I mean.”
“Even when it was still there yesterday?”
“Nope.”
“Did you check the car out, take a look inside, anything like that?”
Ricky shook his head. “Like I said, wasn’t the first time. Although I don’t believe it’s ever still been here this long.”
Billy Ray nodded and stood. “Joe said I could look at Friday night’s surveillance video. Mind if I do that now?”
“Not at all. I’ll get you set up in his office.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sunday, April 20
3:30 P.M.
Dr. Bauer had released Bailey. Now, as they neared the farm, she asked Logan to lower the windows. “I want to smell the air,” she said. “Then I’ll know I’m almost home.”
The fresh, warm breeze rushed into the car, whipping at her hair. She breathed it in, letting it fill her senses and chase away the institutional smell of the hospital.
The neurologist had warned her not to expect too much of herself at first. She had suffered a brain trauma, she needed time to heal. He had assured her the memory of what happened would return, and had cautioned her not to try and force it.
“Just let it happen, Mrs. Abbott.”
Easy for him to say, she thought. It wasn’t a piece of his life that had gone missing. It wasn’t him existing in this constant state of uneasiness. As if some terrible surprise lurked up ahead, one she couldn’t predict—or avoid.
They reached the iron gates and rolled through. “Welcome home, Bailey.”
Weirdly, even her memory hadn’t prepared her for how beautiful it was. The rolling green hills and blue sky, the white fencing and azalea bushes, exploding with pink, white and fuchsia blossoms. The horses, with their rich brown coats shimmering in the sun.
Bailey let its magic wash over her, the memory of her antiseptic hospital room fading away.
The barn and arena came into view. Jo-Jo and Max, the chocolate Lab and corgi, trotted out to greet them. She didn’t see Tony and asked Logan about him.
“He’s fine.” Logan squeezed her hand. “Stephanie has him.”
A moment later, Paul appeared, followed by August.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not ready.”
The men watched them roll past, hands lifted in greeting.
“They were worried about you. Everyone was.”
“Even Raine?”
He smiled. “You are feeling better.”
“Wind and Raine—” she said.
“Thunder and lightning,” he finished, and they both laughed.
“Do they know?” she asked.
“The details of the accident?”
She shook her head. “About the baby.”
“No. No one knows but you, me and the medical staff.”
“Thank you.”
They came upon the second set of gates, and Logan drove slowly through. Moments later, she stepped out of the car and stood a moment, drinking it in with all her senses. As if they had been newly awakened. The smell of earth and plants, the sun warming them. The rustle of the leaves and chirp of the birds. The trickling of the fountain.
She held out her hand. “Home.”
He took it. “Our home.”
“I want to see it all again. Just to know I remember it. Do you think that’s weird?”
He smiled. “I think it’s nice.”
So, they went from room to room, the country-style kitchen and keeping room, the formal living room and Logan’s study. Bailey stopped in front of the portrait of his mother. “You look exactly like her.”
“That’s what you said the first time you saw it.”
“I know.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. “And I really meant it.”
He laughed and together they headed upstairs, holding hands. In their bedroom Bailey stopped, her gaze on the bed.
The bed they shared. Husband and wife. She recalled how it felt to lie there, enclosed in his arms. Warm and protected. She brought a hand to her abdomen, to the life growing inside her.
“What are you thinking?”
“About us. Making love, creating this baby. Here. In this bed.”
Tears stung her eyes and feeling silly, Bailey turned quickly and crossed to the balcony doors. She stepped through them and gazed out beyond the wall, to the woods beyond.
Her accident. Henry, shot dead. Emotion choked her.
He followed her and drew her snugly back against his chest. “To keep you warm,” he murmured, resting his chin on her head.
This was where she’d seen Henry for the first time. With her mind’s eye she saw him walking along the path, Tony, with him, running ahead, circling back.
Henry, with his scarred face and kind eyes. His ready smile and childlike wisdom. With a heart as wide as the sky.
Her friend. Shot dead.
Dead, she realized, the truth of it swamping her, bitterly real. She brought a hand to her mouth. “No. It can’t be. Not Henry, he … I can’t—” She started to cry, great, wracking sobs of despair.
Logan turned her in his arms and held her against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured over and over, rubbing her back. “So sorry.”
She cried until her eyes burned and her throat ached, until she hadn’t the energy for more. “I’m going to miss him so … Just a moment ago, I was thinking how wonderful it was to remember. How beautiful to reexperience it all. But now … this … I wish I didn’t remember.” She tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “It hurts, Logan.”
He cupped her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. “I wish I could take it away.”
“But you can’t. No one can.”