Chief Masters nodded. “Lulie, Gunny squeezed my hand. She’s coming around again.”
Gunny felt light against her eyelids, not too bright or hurtful, but soothing and warm, comforting. She felt no particular pain in her head now, only a sort of heaviness, like a weight bearing down on her, and wasn’t that odd? She slowly opened her eyes, looked up into her mother’s beautiful face, then at her godfather and the two strangers behind them, a man and a woman, both about her age, both focused entirely on her, their expressions serious. Were they from the church? Was she dying?
“Gunny? Baby?”
Her mother’s voice, like sweet clear bells, like when she was reassuring her after a nightmare or when she’d told her how wonderful she was when Gunny managed the grades she needed to graduate high school. When was high school? It had to be a long time ago, hadn’t it?
She heard her mother’s voice again, next to her cheek. “Can you speak to me, Gunny?”
Gunny. She suddenly remembered the bag race when she was six years old and all the kids had to hop toward a finish line with garbage bags belted under their armpits. She’d stumbled all over herself, and Bertie Wyman had called her a gunnysack. And it had stuck. It was better than the other names the kids called her, like dummy and doofus. She’d never complained to her mother because she didn’t mind those names as much as the names she’d heard adults call her, like simple but always very sweet. After the garbage bag race, Gunny was what everyone called her, her mom included. Her mom said it was charming and fun, even though she realized now her mom had hated it, and was only trying to make the best of it. But she’d accepted being called Gunny, really hadn’t given it much thought.
Now, though, she realized it wasn’t right. Gunny wouldn’t do. She wanted her mother to know it, wanted her godfather to know it, too. She whispered, “Mom, please call me Leigh. That’s my name. Leigh Ann Saks. Gunny sounds like some sort of marine. Gunny was okay when I was a little girl, but not anymore.”
There was utter silence. Leigh heard her mother suck in her breath. She felt the weight of their stares, the many unspoken questions hanging in the air, heavy as the weight on her head.
“It’s been a long time since I was a child, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m an adult. I’m also thirsty.”
It was her godfather who spoke first, his voice soothing as the soft light. “Not a problem, Leigh. It might take me a little while to get used to it, so be patient with me.” He put a straw in her mouth. “Slow, Gunny—Leigh—real slow, okay, sweetheart?”
It felt like heaven, and she wanted to drink the entire glass of water fast, all in one long gulp, but she felt pain building up somewhere in her chest and stopped. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her mother lightly touched a Kleenex to her mouth.
“Do you have any pain?”
“Not really, I was drinking too fast.” She smiled up at her godfather, then beyond him to the good-looking man and woman. “Who are you?”
46
* * *
Lulie kissed her daughter’s cheek and straightened. “Honey, let me introduce you to FBI agent Sala Porto from Washington and Chief Ty Christie from Willicott.”
They moved forward and held out their identification so she could see. She really liked what Chief Christie was wearing—black jeans, a tucked-in white shirt, a sharp black jacket. She had such cool hair, dark brown with curls down to her shoulders and the prettiest green eyes, a mossy green, maybe. She was taller than Leigh, fit as a marine, her godfather liked to say, which was a big compliment. Agent Porto was tall, hair and eyes as dark as an archangel’s, his cheekbones knife sharp, his face expressive. He was very good-looking indeed. She smiled, nodded. “It’s nice to meet you both. Are you here because of my accident?”
Lulie moved out of the way so Ty could stand close to Leigh. Ty took her hand and saw uncertainty in her eyes, but also awareness and complete focus on what Ty was about to say. Chief Masters had said when she’d awakened, she was different. Was this what he’d meant? She said, “Someone struck you on the head, Leigh. We’re here to find out who did. Can you remember hearing or seeing anything to help us find out who struck you?”
“Someone hit me on the head?” A sharp jab of pain made her close down for a moment. She raised her hand and felt the thick bandage. Slowly, never looking away from Ty, she shook her head.
Leigh didn’t look slow, she looked baffled, completely understandable after being knocked unconscious.
Leigh looked toward her mother. “Mom, I don’t understand. Someone hit me? Why? I’m Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, even you’ve called me that. Why would anyone hate me enough to smack me on the head?”
Sala took Chief Masters’s place. “Ms. Saks, I’m afraid someone did strike you, knocked you unconscious. You’ve had surgery, but you are not to worry. It all went well, and Chief Masters has assigned Officer Diaz to guard you. He’s right outside the cubicle.”
A small smile bloomed. “Romero? Guarding me? I remember he belted Keith Morton when he tried to kiss me. I really wanted Romero to kiss me when I was sixteen.” She paused, and a shadow of regret, of sadness, flitted over her face. “Then he grew up, and I didn’t.”
Ty squeezed her hand, couldn’t help it. She said, “Do you remember leaving the post office this morning?”
Leigh slowly shook her head, winced, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the hard pillow. “Where did you find me?”
Sala said, “Chief Masters found you behind the dumpster in the alley between the dry cleaners and a hardware store.”
“Lucky Hammer,” Chief Masters said as he lightly smoothed Leigh’s hair back from her forehead to cover some of the white bandage. “An FBI agent manning the Star of David belt buckle hotline called me, and I got to you really fast and brought you here to the hospital. You were in surgery for three hours. Dr. Ellis swears you’re going to be fine, no worries.”
Ty said, “Do you remember walking to the alley to make a phone call, Ms. Saks?”
Leigh slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s all a blank.”
“What is the last thing you do remember?” Sala asked her.
Her brow furrowed. “I remember speaking to Mrs. Chamberlain, but I don’t remember—wait, I had some question, I think, about Mr. Henry. But why would I? I mean, Mr. Henry’s been dead for a long time now, so why would I be asking Mrs. Chamberlain a question about him?” She gave a tiny shrug. “Whatever it was, I suppose I thought she’d know since she and Mr. Henry were sleeping together a long time before he was killed.”
Lulie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Gunny—Leigh—speaking about Mrs. Chamberlain and Mr. Henry’s affair? Not their being special friends, no, sleeping together, saying it like an adult would. She felt like the one who’d been smacked in the head. What was happening with her daughter?
Ty thought about showing Leigh a photo of the belt buckle on her cell phone to spark her memory, but instead, she said, “You were thinking about Mr. Henry because there was a press conference yesterday in Willicott. An FBI agent held up a belt buckle, a special one with a gold Star of David. It was found with a lot of human bones at the bottom of Lake Massey. Anyone who recognized it was asked to call the hotline, and you did, Leigh. In fact, you were the only one to call the hotline with any real information. You were knocked down before you could say much to the agent speaking with you. He thought something had happened to you on the telephone and called Chief Masters immediately, who found you in that alley. Then the agent called to alert us, and we got here as quickly as we could.”
Chief Masters closed his eyes against the enormity of what could have happened if not for that FBI agent who had cared and acted.