The word stopped her dead. Love was a big word, a very serious word. Did she really love Jerry or was she just a vulnerable girl who’d latched on to a man who had been nice to her? No, that wasn’t right. Jerry had been more than nice to her. He cared for her. She could tell when they kissed the first time. The kisses of Todd Franklin, her high school boyfriend, had been greedy and hungry. He said he loved her because he hoped that she would sleep with him. Ashley knew in her heart that Jerry would have been satisfied just to hold her, and that the sex was not as important as being together.
She was so happy, and she hadn’t been happy in a long time. Maybe Jerry was right. Maybe her nightmare was over. Maybe Joshua Maxfield would never bother her again.
Thinking about Joshua Maxfield brought unwanted memories of the attack in the parking lot. Ashley stopped smiling. Jerry must have sensed something because he turned toward her.
“Are you okay?”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m great, Jerry. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. And I mean that.”
“Was I okay?” Ashley asked, nervous that the sex had not been as good for him as it had been for her.
“You are definitely a hot piece of ass.”
“And you are a pig,” Ashley answered, slapping him playfully.
“A pig who has to pee real bad.”
Jerry pecked her on the cheek and got out of bed. She watched him walk to the bathroom. The door closed. Against her will, she started thinking about the attack in the parking lot. The only logical conclusion a rational person could draw was that Joshua Maxfield had tried to kill her, and Randy Coleman had saved her life, but something was still nagging at her.
Coleman was supposed to be a small-time crook who had married Casey Van Meter for her money. Would someone like that risk his life to save her from an attacker? But he must have. No other explanation made sense. If Coleman attacked her, then Maxfield had rescued her. Coleman had a twenty-million-dollar motive to kill her, but what possible motive could Joshua Maxfield have to save her?
An absurd thought occurred to Ashley. What if Maxfield wasn’t the man who killed her parents and tried to murder her in the dorm? What if Coleman was the killer? No, that made no sense. The attacks on her and the murders of her mother and father had to be linked, which meant that the killer had a motive to murder everyone in her family. Coleman didn’t know that she was Casey’s daughter and heir until the hearing, five years after her parents were murdered.
And there was the boathouse. There was no guesswork there. She had heard the screams. She had seen the bodies. It wasn’t Coleman standing in the dark holding that knife, it was Joshua Maxfield.
Jerry stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to the bed.
“I’m going to my apartment to shower and change. Then I am taking you to the restaurant of your choice to celebrate Joshua Maxfield’s arrest and the loss of your virginity. How does that sound?”
Ashley rolled on her side and touched his thigh. “Are you sure you want to leave?”
Jerry laughed. “God, you’re a pervert. Is sex all you think about?”
Ashley was about to answer when the phone rang. She was going to ignore it until she remembered that very few people had her number. One of them was Larry Birch and she worried that he was calling to tell her that Maxfield had escaped. She rolled to the other side of the bed and picked up the receiver.
“Ashley?” a woman asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m so glad I got you. This is Ann Rostow from Sunny Rest.”
“Yes?”
“How are you feeling?”
Ashley thought about the last two hours and couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks for asking. I’m fully recovered.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Do you think you’d have a problem coming to Sunny Rest tomorrow morning?”
“No, why?”
“There’s been a development here.”
“What happened?”
“Casey has regained consciousness.”
“What?”
“She woke up.”
“Oh, my God!”
Ashley sat up and Jerry mouthed, “What’s going on?” Ashley held up a hand to silence him.
“Dr. Linscott wants to meet with the interested parties tomorrow morning at nine o’clock,” Rostow said. “Can you make it?”
“Of course. Can you tell me how she is? Can she talk, is she…?”
“I’d rather have the doctor explain her condition. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ashley hung up and stared into space.
“Who was that?” Jerry asked.
“The woman from Sunny Rest. Casey Van Meter has come out of her coma.”
Jerry sat on the edge of the bed. “That changes everything,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Jerry and Ashley arrived at Sunny Rest in the morning, Miles Van Meter was waiting with Monte Jefferson, his attorney, in the reception area outside Ann Rostow’s office. Larry Birch, Tony Marx, and Deputy District Attorney Delilah Wallace also wanted to hear what Dr. Linscott had to say. Randy Coleman and his attorney, Anthony Botteri, were sitting as far as possible from everyone else. Coleman did not look happy. Now that his wife was awake, their divorce could proceed, and his chance of securing any part of the Van Meter fortune was disappearng.
As soon as Ashley walked in, Delilah Wallace levered herself off the couch. She had a big grin on her face.
“How you doin’, girl? You had me worried something fierce.”
“I’m sorry I…”
“No apologies. I’m just glad you’re safe.” She spread her arms. “Let me give you a hug.”
Delilah engulfed Ashley, crushed her to her bosom, then let her go.
“No more running, promise?”
“I’m staying put.”
“Just like Mr. Maxfield. The only place he’s going is death row. That’s a promise. He’s gonna be under guard twenty-four hours a day and chained up anytime he’s out of his cell. No more freedom for Mr. Maxfield, ever.”
Miles had watched the exchange without expression, but he smiled as soon as Ashley turned toward him.
“You must be very happy,” she said.
“I should have had more faith.”
“No one could have predicted this.”
The door to the right of the receptionist’s desk opened and Ann Rostow walked out, followed by a short, bespectacled man in a brown sports jacket and gray slacks. The man’s red complexion extended across a bald pate over which he had combed his few remaining strands of hair. He looked uncomfortable facing a group.
“I’m glad you could all make it,” Rostow said. “This is Dr. Stanley Linscott, who has been treating Ms. Van Meter. Let’s go into the conference room so he can bring you up to date on her condition and answer your questions. Then we can go to her room.”
A long table dominated the conference room. Everyone assembled around it except Larry Birch and Tony Marx. The detectives stood against the wall. Ann Rostow and Dr. Linscott sat at the end of the table near the door.
“Go ahead, Doctor,” Ann Rostow said.
“Yes, well, I can tell you that I was quite surprised yesterday when the duty nurse phoned me. She said that she was in Ms. Van Meter’s room dealing with her feeding tube when the patient’s eyelids fluttered and she muttered something, which the nurse could not discern. Then Ms. Van Meter opened her eyes and looked around her room. She was confused and did not know where she was, but she did know her name. The nurse did not want to startle Ms. Van Meter, so she told her that she’d had an accident and was in a hospital. Then she phoned me. I came to Sunny Rest immediately and examined her.”
“Doctor, how lucid is Ms. Van Meter?” Delilah Wallace asked.
“She is aware of her identity and she is able to carry on a short conversation. She tires easily.”