DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION. PRESS BUZZER FOR ASSISTANCE.
I followed instructions, and a female voice came over a small speaker above the door, asking if she could help me.
“Has Jeff Kline arrived from the recovery room yet?”
“The police officer?”
“Yes.”
“And your name?”
I told her, and she said, “He’s been asking for you. Please wait there.”
A few minutes passed before a man in scrubs came to the door. “Abby Rose?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sergeant Kline’s nurse, Joey. Come with me.”
We passed a long counter with a bank of monitors for each room. I immediately spotted Jeff on one of the screens. He seemed small lying there with tubes coming out from him like tentacles. My stomach tightened at the sight.
The door to his room was filled with so much equipment, they must have been checking every cell in his body. Blood hung from an IV pole attached to the bed, and its dark red tubing snaked down and over Jeff’s body, led to his forearm and disappeared under adhesive tape.
Joey said, “His chest tube is on the left side. Please come around to the right.”
Even though the nurse spoke softly, Jeff’s eyes opened, and he tried to smile when he saw me.
“You look wonderfully… fuzzy.” His fuzzy came with about ten Zs.
Hearing his voice made the knot in my gut begin to unwind. I wanted to touch him, but I feared I’d knock something loose. His mouth seemed safe and splendid territory, and I planted a kiss on his lips.
“Did you meet Abby, Joey? Abby is soooooo hot.” He moved his head back and forth-the only part of his body he probably could move-and said, “Hot, hot, hot.”
“Yeah, we met,” Joey said. “I’d say you are one lucky dude.”
“You got that right.” Jeff closed his eyes, smiling.
I kinda liked Jeff on drugs. They should have passed around morphine in that conference room so the rest of us could have been as mellow as he was right now.
“They say you’ll be fine,” I said.
He didn’t open his eyes. “Was there any doubt?”
“No,” I said quickly.
He looked at me. “You still have my weapon? I know I let you borrow it, but I will need that back.”
“I don’t think I need your gun anymore. I guess I can return it.”
“Come closer. I need to tell you something.” He was grinning like a friendly wolf.
I put my ear near his mouth.
He whispered, “You better still need my other gun.”
Yup. Jeff was gonna be just fine.
28
I left Jeff about five minutes later, after DeShay arrived to take my place, and started for the stairs back to Aunt Caroline’s room. I checked my watch. Eight o’clock. I hoped I could get an officer to take Kate and me home. We could pick up Subway sandwiches, then get some rest. Though I wanted to stay here in case anything unexpected happened to Jeff, I didn’t want to leave Kate by herself. Not tonight. I’d already given Joey all my phone numbers, and he said he would pass them on to the night nurse and notify me if Jeff’s condition changed. But Joey assured me that everything seemed to be going well. Jeff was a fit man with a strong will.
I reached the stairs, and when I opened the door I nearly shouted out in surprise. Paul Kravitz was leaning against the wall in the stairwell.
“Sorry, Abby. Didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice seemed to bounce off the walls. “How’s your friend?”
“He’s… okay. He’ll recover completely.” I had to admit Kravitz was smart. I should have known he’d find me.
“Good. Even our bad guy will be okay. They patched him up and transferred him to the police station-what do they call it? Travis? Took him there for interrogation.”
“Really? Thanks for telling me.” I swallowed, met Kravitz’s stare. “I’m sorry about the man who worked for you. Really sorry. What was his name?”
“Cooper. Bill Cooper. The police say he probably never knew what hit him.”
“I-I still feel terrible.”
“Why? Foster’s the one who killed him.” Kravitz sat on the stair closest to him.
“Thanks for trying to let me off the hook, but he’s still dead, and I still feel awful.”
“I’m not letting you off the hook. I think you owe me an interview, Abby. Can we talk about that?” He patted the concrete next to him.
Maybe I did owe him, but the last thing I wanted was to show my face on a TV show that millions watched. I sat beside him, hoping a conversation would be enough.
“Stu videoed the whole thing today, the shooting, everything,” Kravitz said, “but the police took the tape. I want it back. You have strong connections to them. Maybe you can accomplish what I couldn’t.”
“The chief of police told me to cooperate with you and Venture, said you’d bring good publicity to the city. I’m not sure I understand why they’re withholding the video.”
“They say they need it to prosecute Foster. That it’s evidence,” he said.
“Their best evidence. But they can copy it for you. I’ll see what I can do.”
Kravitz nodded. “Thanks.”
I was puzzled. “If they’re asking me to cooperate with you, why won’t they?”
“You want my guess? Because you took that guy out, not them. And what’s on the tape is not what they want the world to see.”
I turned to look at his profile, again amazed at how old he looked in contrast to what we saw on TV. “I’m wondering if this is the story you want to tell. That SWAT didn’t arrive until a few minutes after I shot Foster? That HPD was late to the game?”
“I’m pissed off about them shutting me out all of a sudden, so maybe yes. Maybe that will be my slant.” His neck was reddening and his jaw was taut.
“Can I offer you some advice?” I said. “Don’t do that. This case is about so much more. This is about how you can never really bury the past. This about three families all touched by Foster’s crimes.”
“Three families? Who else besides Emma’s family and the Fosters?”
“Emma has two half brothers she’s never met. She has a half sister she may never meet, either. But what she does have is the truth. She knows what happened to her mother now. And all the hard work she put into raising her brothers and sister will be rewarded. This is a story about horrible crimes that led to a happy, if not so perfect ending. Isn’t that a whole lot more important than a tape in an evidence locker?”
Kravitz sighed. “I’ll have to think about it. Meanwhile, you still owe me a formal interview-you promised your cooperation, right?”
Guess stairway conversations didn’t count as cooperation. “Interview, yes, but I don’t want to show my face on TV.”
“Why not? You’ve got a great face.” He smiled.
“I run a very small business and am extremely selective about my clients. Just the mention of my name on a local TV show brought Chelsea Burch to my doorstep.”
“You got a problem, then. This story was syndicated. UPI, Reuters, all of them have it. And when the Today show calls tonight or tomorrow, I hope you tell them no and give me an exclusive agreement in writing, especially since we lost one of our own to help your solve this thing.”
“The Today show won’t be calling me. That’s ridiculous.”
“Not ridiculous at all,” Kravitz said. “Seems you’re a damn hero, Abby Rose.”
Jeffs fellow officers and the hospital administration continued to shield Kate and me from the herd of reporters still waiting to talk to us. We heard that even Aunt Caroline’s name was big news. She was now the “socialite hostage” and had her own guard at the door, I guess to keep the press out. My sister and I would never be allowed to forget her important role in all this.
Before Kate and I could be escorted through a back exit of the hospital, the phone in Aunt Caroline’s room rang. She was so knocked out, the noise didn’t wake her. She’d had some strong medicine-maybe a sleeping pill the staff begged her doctor to order to shut her up.