“That’s good.” He probably told every potential witness the same, coaching them with cop rhetoric. “How about some coffee?” He motioned to the cup.
“No thanks.” The thought of putting anything in her stomach was repulsive. Heaving a sigh, she plopped the damp washcloth beside the mug, taking care to slide a magazine beneath it. How pathetic she could remember to care for her bargain outlet furniture, but couldn’t recall the face of a cop from last night.
“I can freshen that up if you’d like,” Ryan offered with a nod at the washcloth.
She shook her head, flattered by his attentiveness. They’d barely spoken to each other while growing up, Ryan a fixture with the popular crowd. She’d never heard him utter a bad word about her but her childhood nemesis, Suzanne Flemish, had done her best to make Katie believe Ryan regularly dissed her. Probably because Suzanne had spent the bulk of her teen years pining for Ryan.
Katie curled her legs to the side, sinking back against the sofa cushions. Across the room, a few superhero comics lay scattered beside Sam’s favorite chair. Spiderman, Batman, Flash Gordon. They certainly wouldn’t have flubbed up and forgotten a man’s face.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “What do you think happened to Jerome?”
“I don’t know.” Ryan’s shrug indicated he hadn’t drawn any conclusions from the hospital. “Whatever it was, it was bad enough to put him in a coma.”
Jerome in a hospital bed, tubes sticking from him, IVs pumping fluid into his veins. He deserved far better. He had no family that she knew of, at least none in the area. The hospital and sheriff’s office would do their best to track down any relatives, but in the meantime, he was alone. She’d already asked if she could visit the ICU, but that privilege was reserved for immediate family.
“Caden is working on getting a search warrant for Jerome’s house,” Ryan said. “Not that we suspect him of being involved in anything illegal, but it might help turn up a clue about what happened. Somehow, he got to the ER under his own power.”
“And then passed out.” Katie scooped the hair from her face. She probably looked a wreck—hung over, half-nauseous, dressed in the comfortable baggy sweats she’d worn to Eve’s sleepover. It was a good thing her relationship with Ryan didn’t go past friendship. She’d made a mess of herself lately…abandoning Jerome, getting drunk when she should have been with her son, putting stock in a Ouija board. He probably thought she was a complete screw-up. At least he didn’t know about the stupid planchette and the silly questions they’d asked.
The thought awakened a connected memory.
“Ryan, when I was with Jerome, he kept repeating the word ‘cold.’ I thought it was odd because he was sweating. I want to make sure the doctors know about that.”
“I’ll tell them. Maybe he had a fever or something.”
She nodded, tumbling the thought around. Or something. The more she poked at her encounter with Jerome and Deputy Brown, the less sense it made.
“I should probably get to bed.” It had grown late. Now that her headache had begun to recede, a fringe of exhaustion settled over her.
“Good idea.” Ryan stood. “I’ll check with you tomorrow and see how you’re doing.”
Katie saw him to the door, made sure it was locked behind him, then shut off the lights in the living room. She’d worry about straightening up tomorrow when her mind wasn’t fogged with relief for Sam and worry for Jerome. By the time she’d changed into nightclothes and crumpled into bed, she craved nothing more than a dreamless sleep.
“So we’re good on this?” Ryan asked. “You got an all-clear to proceed?”
Head bowed, Caden thumbed through a ring of keys. “Yeah.” His voice was tight, but it wasn’t surprising considering he’d only caught a few hours’ sleep after finishing his shift last night. With the noon sun beating down on Jerome Kelly’s small ranch home, bleaching the faded siding near-white, Ryan found it easy to convince himself their trip was a waste of time. Jerome was a loner. A conspiracy theorist who spent his down hours reading about Big Brother, UFOs, and the Mothman. It was doubtful anyone wanted to harm him.
But he couldn’t explain away the presence of the unknown Deputy Brown or why Jerome was in a coma. Even so, he feared the only thing he and Caden were likely to find inside was a pile of books lauding the latest alien sighting or paranormal discovery. The guy usually had his nose buried in one or the other whenever Ryan saw him at the River Café.
“Did they actually give you Jerome’s keys?” Ryan asked as Caden tried one, then another, inserting them into the lock on Jerome’s front door. A fluorescent green fob with AREA 51 stamped on the front dangled from the ring.
“The doctor didn’t volunteer, but I didn’t see any harm in borrowing them when he wasn’t looking.” With a sharp smile, Caden turned the lock and pushed open the door. “We’ve got a winner.”
“I thought you were going to get a search warrant?”
“Until I got impatient. Jerome’s in a coma, fighting for his life. There might be something in here to tell us why.”
He stepped inside and Ryan followed. The room was dimly lit and cluttered, shuttered by blinds. Ryan crossed to the nearest window and raised the dull white covering, allowing sunlight indoors. A flurry of dust mites sprang to life in the sudden illumination.
“Not the best housekeeper, huh?” He stepped around a tower of newspapers teetering toward overspill. Most looked yellowed and old, the edges flaked and crumbling. Small particles of paper littered the floor, along with the crumbs from some forgotten snack.