“What about that crescent-shaped bruise on her throat?”
“Impact injuries can produce contusions and lacerations to the skin. There were multiple projecting rocks and stones composing the walls of the shaft. Look,” Pickler said, “I don’t have anything against Dyson. Back in the day, he was good police. But his Achilles’ heel is his stubborn streak. I could go through each and every case with you, but…” He dropped his cigarette in the snow and crushed it underfoot. “Anyway. He’s retired now. He should be enjoying his life instead of pursuing bullshit theories. Have a good one, Doc.” The medical examiner walked away towards the house.
Her phone buzzed and Kate checked the number. “James?”
“Just checking in. How are you?”
“Not good.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the image of all that blood. “I’m in New Hampshire,” she managed to choke. “Something bad happened…”
“Kate? What is it?”
“Nelly Ward is dead. I practically tripped over the body.”
“What?” James sounded panicked. “How did this happen?”
“I drove up here to see them, and the door was open, and I went inside, and…”
“Jesus,” James hissed. “Are you okay?”
“No. I mean, I’m fine. Physically. But the police took all my clothes.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I slipped in a pool of blood,” she sobbed. “It got all over me.” She took a few gasps. “It was awful, James. She was beaten with a hammer. There was blood all over the place.”
“Okay. Listen. I’m coming home.”
“Don’t do that…” she said automatically.
“Where are you now?”
“In Wilamette. But the police said I could go.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her hands were trembling.
“I just have to make a few more arrangements, and then I’ll be home.”
“How’s Vanessa?” she remembered to ask.
“Fine. We found a good physical therapist, and we’re interviewing home care nurses… And, Kate?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too. See you soon.” She hung up.
Forty minutes later, midway between Blunt River and Boston, she pulled into a rest area and called Palmer Dyson.
“I just heard,” he said. “My buddy Ramsey filled me in. How’re you holding up?”
“Not so great.” She swallowed the burning lump in her throat. “I can’t get the image out of my head. Poor Nelly.”
“It’ll fade over time. Trust me.”
“The police think Derrick did it. They’re looking for him now. They put out a statewide alert.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“But the police said he left evidence behind.”
“I don’t think he did it, Kate.”
“Seriously? But you should’ve seen Maddie’s room. I found restraints on the bed—it was horrible. I think he’s been abusing her, which is probably why she self-harms. It’s classic projection…”
“No. Those restraints are for her own protection. Nelly told me about it years ago. If they don’t restrain her at night, she climbs out of bed and hurts herself.”
“Oh.” Kate blinked. “But Nelly told me that Derrick hit her, and Maddie practically admitted that he hits her, too. And all I can think of is that Nelly must’ve confronted him about the abuse, and that’s why he killed her.”
“No, Kate. It’s not like him.”
She paused a frustrated beat. “The police sounded pretty confident.”
“Then I need to find him before they do. He keeps a gun in his truck. They’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
A pronounced silence settled in between them.
“Palmer,” she said softly, “I don’t think I’m built for this.”
“But, Kate…”
“I’m sorry. But this is way too scary for me.”
“I understand,” he said hoarsely. “Listen, if you ever need anything…”
“Goodbye, Palmer. Good luck.”
39
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON by the time Kate got home to Cambridge. She felt stripped down, raw and emotional. She sat on the edge of her bed, kicked off her trainers, and studied the dried blood under her fingernails. She closed her eyes and said a little prayer. She wished Nelly hadn’t had such a troubled life. She promised to make sure that Maddie would be okay.
But now she had a job to do. She took a long hot shower, got dressed, threw on her parka and last year’s boots, scooped up her car keys and drove to the hospital.
The nurses greeted her with battle-hardened good cheer. “Hey, Doc. You missed all the excitement. Nothing but wall-to-wall drama queens this morning.”
“Deep breaths, ladies. Any messages?”
Yvette handed her a stack of pink slips. “I’m afraid your favorite patient has cut herself again.”
Kate shoved the pink slips into her coat pocket and headed for the Child Psych Unit. The common area was full of tweens and teens bickering over Boggle and backgammon and video games. They lined up twice a day for their meds, and most of them just wanted to go home.
Kate found Maddie self-isolating in her room. The nurses’ aide was sitting cross-legged on the floor, writing her daily progress report on a tablet, while Maddie sat up in bed, hugging a brand new plushie—a pink poodle with floppy ears.
Kate told Claire to take a break, then pulled up a chair. “How are you feeling?”
The girl said nothing. Beyond the window the clouds parted, releasing a ray of sunshine that highlighted Maddie’s face and golden eyelashes for a moment. Kate was struck once again by the eerie resemblance to Savannah—same pixie nose and whimsical blondness. There was a fresh set of bandages on Maddie’s arm. The sun disappeared behind the clouds again.
“Where were you today?” Maddie asked, peering at her curiously.
“I went to see your parents.” Kate didn’t know how else to put it. “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.”
Maddie watched her expectantly.
“I’m afraid your mother’s gone.”
“Gone?” The girl blinked. “Gone where?”
Your mother is dead. Four simple words. And yet, all her years of training hadn’t prepared her for this. Kate’s own terrible losses hadn’t prepared her for this. How did you tell a child her mother was dead? How did you soften the blow? The truth was, there would be no soft landings. Reality was blunt and merciless. Kate’s own experience with death hadn’t given her any advantage when it came to breaking the news to others. Death was the nightmare you simply didn’t wake up from.
“She passed away this morning, Maddie.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed critically. “No she didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.” Kate waited for the information to sink in.
“I don’t think I heard you right,” Maddie said stubbornly.
“I know it’s a lot to absorb. She passed away this morning.”
The girl began to rock violently back and forth. “I don’t believe you! It’s a mistake. She can’t be dead!”
“I’m sorry, Maddie.” The only solace Kate could think of was that her grief would diminish over time—a lousy consolation prize.
“What happened?” she wailed. “How did Mommy die?”
“I’m afraid someone hurt her. The police are trying to figure out who’s responsible.”
The girl’s distress ticked up a notch. “Somebody killed her?”
“Yes, Maddie. I’m so sorry.”
“Where’s my father?”
“They don’t know.”
“So he’s not coming to get me?”
“No.”
Fear flared in her eyes. “What are they going to do to him?”
“I don’t know. They’re figuring out the details now. That’s why a police officer will be coming to the hospital tomorrow to talk to you.”
“Talk to me about what?”
“Your mother and stepfather,” Kate said. “They have a few questions about your home life. Do you think you can handle it? Because we can always postpone it for a few days.” She’d protested to Detective Johnson when he’d told her he would be visiting, pointing out how unwell Maddie was, but there seemed to be no way to avoid the interview.