“Sorry.” Amelia blushed, annoyed that Caleb’s collision had made it seem like she was late. “I was just down the street with my sister. She’s getting married and I’m her matron of honor and our mother died when we were young, so I’m trying to be there for her whenever I can and . . .” The information poured out of her mouth, and a horrified voice in her mind begged her to shut up.
As he listened far more intently than Amelia thought necessary for her blabbering, a pallor fell over Randy’s face as if she’d said something horribly wrong or offensive. That look made the stream of consciousness she was spewing slow and then halt. She cleared her throat and ran her tongue over her front teeth just to be sure she didn’t have any lingering lip gloss smeared across them.
She shuffled around again, the cute shoes getting pinchier by the minute, but it didn’t seem like Randy was really looking at her. He was darting glances at the parking lot as though she wouldn’t notice, like when frat guys would try to check out her boobs in college, thinking they were being all stealth about it. Then a memory flickered in her mind—the warning. Caleb’s warning.
“Wait, are you looking for Caleb?” The way Caleb stormed past, the brush of red in Randy’s cheek. Maybe Collin had seen Caleb and Randy talking earlier, and it had progressed into . . . whatever this was.
Like a switch flipped, Randy focused on Amelia’s face.
“Is your wrist okay? I saw what happened through the window. That guy didn’t even stop.” He let the heavy door thump to a close, and then moved her out of the way of another assault. With the same gentleness she saw in him when he talked to Dawson, he took her hand and turned it over, examining her wrist. It was a completely benign action and full of genuine concern, but it also made her feel like all eyes were on her. It made her feel like Mr. Tarjan in the Sherwin-Williams was going to call up Steve and tell him about a strange man holding her hand.
But the real fear playing in the back of her mind was that Caleb could still be around somewhere, watching.
CHAPTER 19
ELLIE
Wednesday, May 11
1:37 a.m.
As Collin was outside grabbing the car, Ellie stopped by the nurses’ station in the ICU with a Post-it filled with every bit of contact information she could think of. She’d been allowed to see Amelia briefly, but her time was limited because of a complication with Amelia’s abdominal wound. Those were often tricky, especially on an unresponsive patient. It was almost a relief to get a few minutes to recover from the shock of seeing her sister being kept alive by machines.
In the middle of her stern warning to be absolutely certain that they knew to call her if anything happened, even a slight blip in Amelia’s blood pressure or twitch of her eyelid, she heard Travis talking on the phone. He was outside of Amelia’s empty room, waiting for her to return from an MRI. He was arranging for another police officer to supervise Amelia’s room like Officer Blackford had been stationed outside of Steve’s. Unlike the walkie-talkie, the phone provided her with only one side of the conversation, but it was enough to pique her interest.
“How long will it take her to get here?” Travis asked into the phone. He seemed to listen and then continue his thought, hand resting on his gun. “Well, as long as you can get someone here to fill in and another to replace Blackford . . . No. Blackford cannot come back. He was a disaster, and if you want me to meet the sister in the morgue, then you need someone up here with Mr. and Mrs. Saxton.” He paused again, and Ellie leaned down to rummage through the plastic hospital bag with the words This Belongs To printed across the front, hoping he wouldn’t notice her listening.
After another significant pause, he responded. “Okay, I’ll meet her there at eight . . . She’s pretty sure it’s him, then? ’Cause of the tattoo? Right. Well, this won’t be an easy one. He was shot in the face at close range . . . Yeah, I’ll try to keep as much covered as I can.” Ellie yanked the drawstrings of her bag and went to put it over her shoulder, when her phone slipped out of her hand with a thump. The sound of a smart phone dropping must send off some kind of universal freak-out signal, because almost immediately Travis’s eyes were pointed directly at her. He pressed the phone to his face, said a quick sign-off, and headed over to Ellie.
“I’ve got your info in my phone, Brown. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”
“Well, aren’t you going to need some sleep at some point, or are you Mr. Bionic Man?”
“Funny,” Travis said, not laughing at all. She couldn’t tell if he was entertained or annoyed at this point. “I’m on the clock; you’re not.”
“Rivera,” Ellie added, removing all hints at humor and cocking her head to one side. “I’m glad it was you who took the call today.”
She didn’t know why she said it, really. But it was true. She’d thought it several times that day, and even when he’d been pushing for more information or pressuring her about Caleb, she was still glad he was the officer who found her covered in her sister’s blood. He was well-known for being good at his job, but mostly it was because he always seemed to figure out the right thing to say.
Travis’s hands dropped from his utility belt to his sides, where they hung limply like they’d forgotten what they were made for. In that moment, his muscles relaxed, the suspicious lines on his face smoothed, and he looked like just a guy.
“Uh, well, thanks, Brown.” He took a step closer, and for a moment she wondered why he sometimes called her Ellie and at others called her Brown. Why there were times when he’d laugh at her jokes or bring her a stripper’s sweatshirt and others where he would stare her down like she was the criminal he was looking for. Before she could think of anything else to say, her phone dinged. She knew without looking at it that it was Collin. His ringtone and vibration were unique.
“That’s Collin. I’d better go.” She looked around the shadowy hospital floor, glowing computer screens, dimmed hallways, beeps and clicks creeping out of each hospital room. The ambient light all blended together into a gray-green hue that reflected off Travis’s dark eyes. He was becoming a good friend, but a part of her knew that he wasn’t just a friend and colleague right now. He was also always on the watch for information. That information could turn someone she cared about into a murderer.
“Right, sounds good. See you in a while, then.” Travis’s hands immediately went back up to his belt like they took some comfort resting there.
“Yeah,” she replied with a little wave as she turned to leave. “’Night.”
She thought she could hear him echo her farewell as she walked down the hall, but she was still thinking about not just her sister and Steve or even about the strange conversation she’d had with Travis, but about a dead man lying in a cold freezer in the basement of the hospital.