“Well, last I heard your daddy was locked up, so yeah, I think you do.”
“How about one of my brothers? Robby’s eighteen.”
With a sly smile, Wheeler agreed. “Then he can confirm parts of your story. I like that, two birds, one stone.”
Miranda wasn’t certain what he meant by that, but was relieved it was okay. She dialed her brother’s cell number, praying he’d answer.
He did and the words spilled out of her. “Robby, it’s me. I need your help.”
“Randi? What the hell? Nice move pissing off Billy-Bo! Geez-us, girl, you stole his pot!”
“You gotta listen, Robby … I’m at the Harmony PD. You have to come get me.”
“Hell, no, I’m not coming to get you. What’d you do this time?”
“Something bad’s happened. They don’t believe me. You’ve got to tell ’em!”
“Tell them what?” He sounded annoyed. “What don’t they believe?’
“About you and Wes having Billy pick me up, and how he kicked me out of his truck and how I stole his pot—”
“They found the pot?”
“It was in my pocket and—I need you to tell them what happened.”
“You’re out of your damn mind, girl, I’m not telling them that. You’re just crazy.”
“You don’t understand—”
“’Course I do. You’re trying to throw me, Wes, and Billy under the bus because you were stupid and got caught.”
“No … no … after he kicked me out, I hitched a ride with a guy and this other girl. We were partying and—” Her voice rose. “I passed out. When I came to, I was tied up.… That guy … he raped the other girl and he was gonna rape me, but I got away!”
For a long moment he was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “What kind of bullshit story are you telling them?”
“It’s not bullshit. I promised her I’d get her help but nobody believes me!”
“Add me to that list.”
“You’re my brother. You’ve got to believe me. I’m not making this up. Please,” she begged, voice cracking. “You’re eighteen, they’ll believe you.”
“Yeah, and send me to jail. Call mom.”
“The guy raped her! He was gonna rape me but I got loose and—”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re my brother,” she said again, feeling as if her heart had just been ripped from her chest. He didn’t believe her. Her mother wouldn’t either. Her other brother? She wouldn’t waste her breath. Bitter tears stung her eyes. Maybe her no-good daddy up at Angola could lend a hand.
“Look, Randi, I don’t know what really happened to you tonight, and it’s not my problem. But if you think I’m going to come cover for you and get my ass busted, you’re crazier than I thought. Deal with it and call mom.”
He hung up. The click resounded in her head and she glanced over her shoulder at Wheeler. He smirked at her. “Having a problem?”
She had nobody, she realized. Same as always.
She jerked her chin up and glared at the man. “You could say that. My brother’s an asshole. What’s your excuse?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
9:20 P.M.
The shriek of her phone startled Miranda from the past to the present. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, stood, and hurried to her phone. “This is Rader,” she answered.
“Miranda?” A woman. Her voice high-pitched and hysterical.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s Tara. From the bar.”
The image of Summer grimacing and rubbing her temple filled her head. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Summer. She collapsed again. I couldn’t get her to wake up—”
“Call 911.”
“I did. They’re here now, loading her into the ambulance. I can’t leave the bar.… We’re busy and—”
Miranda grabbed her purse and started for the front door. “I’m on my way. I’ll keep you posted.”
Eight minutes later, Miranda wheeled into the emergency room drive, stopping behind an ambulance. An EMT was slamming the vehicle’s rear doors.
She hopped out. “You just drop off Summer Knight?”
“We did. They’re admitting her now.”
She thanked them and rushed inside—and saw that the hospital staff was trying to admit her. Summer was alert and mighty pissed off.
“Ms. Knight,” the nurse said sharply, “we’re just trying to help you.”
“Then get me off this damn thing!”
Miranda hurried over. “Summer, what’s all the fuss about?”
Summer looked relieved to see her. “I don’t have a clue. I wake up in an ambulance, for God’s sake, and nobody will tell me anything!” She glared at the nurse.
Miranda stepped in. “Tara called me. She said you passed out at the bar and she couldn’t rouse you.”
Summer scowled. “That girl’s overexcitable.”
“She did the right thing. It’s you who’s acting like a horse’s behind.” Miranda looked at the nurse. “She had a seizure a couple days ago as well. I was there when it happened.”
“I have epilepsy,” Summer muttered. “This happens.”
The paramedic returned with his paperwork. He looked tired. When he spoke, he sounded tired, too. “And as I told you ma’am, what I observed was not consistent with an epileptic seizure.”
Miranda frowned, then looked at Summer. “I don’t like the sound of that. You’re here. Just stay and let them run a few tests. You might have hit your head—”
“Which is why we’re going to take you down to get a CT scan. If everything looks all right, you’re out of here.”
“Nope. I’m out of here now.” She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the gurney.
She seemed to wobble and Miranda darted forward to steady her. “Summer, please be reasonable—”
She jerked her arm free. “You’re either my friend and you help me out of here or you’re not and I call an Uber and do this alone. Either way, I’m leaving.”
Both the ER nurse and paramedic looked flummoxed. “Ma’am, I strongly suggest you stay. One CT scan, that’s all.”
“No.” She stood, confronting Miranda. “Well?”
Miranda glanced apologetically at the nurse, then nodded. “I’ll take you home.”
All Summer’s bluster seemed to evaporate. “Thank you.”
The nurse shrugged. “We can’t make you stay. But we have some forms you’ll need to sign before you leave. They state that it was your choice to leave the hospital and you won’t hold us responsible should anything happen to you as a result.”
Ten minutes later Miranda had Summer settled into her front passenger seat. She turned to Summer before she pulled away from the curb. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Just take me back to the bar.”
Miranda made a choked sound of disbelief. “That’s so not happening, girlfriend.”
Summer leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Figured you’d say that.”
Summer lived in a quirky condo on the far edge of the university area. Miranda parked and ran around to help her; Summer waved her off.
“C’mon in, we’ll talk.”
Summer unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the light. Miranda followed her in, then stopped in surprise. The place was a mess, unread mail and newspapers stacked about, shoes that had obviously been kicked off and left, empty soda cans, a couple beer bottles. It wasn’t exactly awful—no dirty dishes or food sitting out—but it didn’t hold up to her friend’s usual standards.