They stood, and Fitz said, “Taylor, can I have a second?”
“Sure. I need to check on Lincoln anyway.” They left the room, Price barking instructions to Dan Franklin in the background.
Lincoln was hanging up the phone when they walked in. “Here’s something interesting for you. The chaplain called his counterpart in Houston, who knows Jordan’s family. They ran out to the house—apparently the parents don’t live far from their HQ. Jordan’s parents have been in Europe for the past month. They’ve got another month planned, and their maid didn’t know how to reach them. She said the dad calls into his office every once in a while, so we called over there to have him call as soon as he gets a message. The maid gave them the number of a sister that lives in Washington, DC. They’re trying to get in touch with her, see if she can reach the parents.” He shook his head. “Some family. No one seems to talk to anyone else.”
“Very sad. Keep after them, Lincoln. If we’re having a press conference tonight, I’d like to be able to use Jordan’s name. Fitz, let’s go in Price’s office.”
They went in and Fitz closed the door. She saw the look of concern and steeled herself.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Of course I am.”
“Hey, little girl, this is me you’re talking to. Marcus told me about your panic attack over at Vandy.”
She felt her chest tighten. “Great, now he’s tattling on me?”
“No, no, no, he didn’t know what happened, exactly, only said he thought you were feeling sick. Lucky for you, you do look like you’re coming down with a cold. That’s what I told him. I’m the one who put it together.”
“Why does everyone think I have a cold?” she laughed. “I feel fine.”
“You don’t look like you feel fine. You look stressed and strung out and ill. What’s up? Are you worried about the grand jury?”
“Fitz, honey, I love you to death, but I’m fine. I just got a little hot and stopped to catch my breath. Maybe I am catching something. So stop worrying about me. We’ve got two very dead girls and a city that’s going to go into panic mode when they hear the connection. More important things, you know? Sam may have gotten some herbs off Jordan Blake’s body. Tell Price and Lincoln for me, okay?”
Fitz nodded but still looked doubtful. He knew about the dreams. He knew about the panic attacks. He knew she’d been riding the edge. He had tried to talk her into taking some time off after the shooting. She’d bullied her way back and hadn’t stopped. She was finally starting to show some cracks.
“You got me worried, little girl.”
“Fitz, I’m fine, I swear. I haven’t been sleeping, that’s all. We solve this case, I get my testimony over with, and I’ll take a few days off. Promise. But right now I have to scoop up the puppy and go over to Vandy. Okay?”
He leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. Squeezed, then got up and left without saying another word.
Taylor took a deep breath. Shit. If Marcus was noticing she wasn’t one hundred percent right, the others were too. She needed to get herself in check, and fast.
David Martin just wouldn’t let her go, the bastard.
Seventeen
Taylor and Marcus took the familiar route to Vandy’s administrative offices. Chief Graber was nowhere in sight. Taylor didn’t complain. They caught a plump, grandmotherly woman holding a clear plastic umbrella just as she was locking the doors to leave.
“Excuse me. I’m Lieutenant Jackson and this is Detective Wade—”
“Detective Wade. I remember seeing you yesterday. I’m Gladys Thorton.” She gave Marcus a sweet, inviting smile. He coughed and looked at the ground. “You were here about poor little Shelby Kincaid. I saw you talking to Chief Graber right after he came and got the Kincaid girl’s records. I heard more about it on the news. Poor little lamb.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is a shame. We need a favor, though. Would you mind letting us in and looking up another record for us? I promise it won’t take long.”
“Well, I’ve got my book club in an hour. Have you ever read Middlesex? I just couldn’t seem to get through it. I’m embarrassed really, I’m sure they’re all going to think I’m some sort of dummy, but it just didn’t capture my interest. These big books…”
Taylor smiled at Marcus and let the woman prattle, watching her unlock the doors. She led them into the office. Maybe they’d gotten lucky and she’d be too distracted to question their motive in pulling another record. News of Jordan Blake’s death wasn’t out yet; they needed to be delicate.
“Whose record did you say you wanted?”
Marcus finally spoke. “Uh, we didn’t. But we need Jordan Blake’s file.”
Gladys stopped. “Jordan Blake,” she said disapprovingly. “And you do have a court order for the records?”