He stood leaning against the heat vent under the window, poised with pen and medical chart in hand, waiting to scribble some plausible explanation into her chart. She looked back at him without hesitation, shaking her head.
“Look at these.” He crossed the space between them in two strides and pulled a series of snapshots out of the file.
When she took the first glance, she couldn’t believe her eyes. They looked like crime scene photos. Her naked side was covered in deep black-and-blue bruises spreading across her ribs and hips like ink. She couldn’t believe these were really of her.
In disbelief, she reached down and gingerly touched the same spots on her own body, and winced in pain.
She opened the side of her hospital gown and looked down at her side to see that it matched the photos, then up to meet his deep brown eyes.
“I don’t understand either. My friend from work was here earlier. She said I hit my head on the coffee table. And I remember that I was standing there when I saw the article about police identifying Melissa’s body. But…that’s it. I don’t understand the rest…the bruises.”
“Well, when you’re ready to talk about it, or to think back on it, here’s my card.” He set it on her bedside table. “Page me. Okay?”
She shook her head yes. “Okay.”
“Get dressed, but before you go, you’ll need some directions on how to function with those ribs. A nurse will come by and show you how to wrap them. You’ll have a tough time walking, getting up and down, or coughing over the next few weeks. And for God’s sake, don’t laugh…it’ll hurt like hell.”
She couldn’t imagine what she’d laugh about. “Okay. I’ll be careful…and I’ll keep them wrapped. Thanks.”
“Remember, you have my card. Use it.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse showed up a few minutes later to explain how to wrap her ribs with Ace bandages.
Then she left, and Hailey began gathering her clothes, mentally preparing herself to deal with Detective Kolker, still skulking outside her hospital door.
She couldn’t be too hard on him. He was just doing his job.
Finally dressed, she reached down for her purse, and nearly passed out again. The pain across her ribs was sharp and intense.
Hailey stood up and it hit her. It hit her like a ton of bricks. She remembered.
A pair of legs…in blue jeans…crossing the floor of Dana’s office, walking toward her after she fell.
The blood had been coming down her cheek, she could feel it…and those legs…a man’s legs…
He pulled back and kicked, putting his whole body into it, as if she were the football in a college playoff.
Again, she felt the first vicious kick to her side, then the next and the next, the tip of his boot working its way down her ribs to the soft side of her stomach.
She remembered doubling over, lying there on the carpet, her body reacting defensively to one unrelenting kick after the next, instinctively trying to cover her stomach with her arms…her ribs caving in onto her lungs and blood drizzling into her mouth.
But the face…she couldn’t remember the face. She hadn’t been able to move to look up.
She never saw his face.
Ribs wrapped tightly in layer upon layer of Ace bandaging, Hailey stepped gingerly around the foot of the hospital bed, sheets still rumpled. She leaned over carefully to pick up the doctor’s card.
She tucked the card into her bra and made her way across the room, placing one foot after the next. Stepping through the swinging door from her hospital room out into the hallway, the first thing she encountered was Lieutenant Kolker, positioned like a vulture in the hallway.
“Still here? I’m damn impressed, Kolker.”
“I have some more questions for you.”
“Look, I’m happy to talk, but it’s pretty hard to catch a breath with my ribs wrapped.”
The smell of medicine in the hallway was heavy. She couldn’t wait for a breath of cold, fresh air.
“If you’ll just tell me-”
“Lieutenant. I’d like to get home to my apartment first. At least take a bath and change out of these bloody clothes.”
It was all she could do to walk. But she did, all the way down the hall. He never offered to help and as she made her way toward the elevator, she could feel him watching her through narrowed eyes. She stepped on and fought the impulse to look back at him. The elevator closed, her back still turned to him.
She had a feeling she hadn’t seen the last of him.
45
Atlanta, Georgia
CELL PHONE IN ONE HAND, C.C. GLANCED AT HIS WATCH ON THE opposite wrist and waited.
Tina had impressed upon him repeatedly in the past just how much a performer needed her beauty sleep.
It was one o’clock in the afternoon, though-she should be up by now. He didn’t have lunch plans, maybe he should just hop in the Caddy and drive on over to her apartment.
Then again, he just got here and it was a full twenty minutes drive out to Tara Boulevard. Plus, one of the other judges might see him leaving early again.
But the thought of spending the afternoon with Tina was a temptation. God, she had a beautiful body and wasn’t the least bit inhibited. And hey, locking in the announcement as Democratic candidate for governor didn’t happen every day… C.C. wanted to celebrate.
Making up his mind, he wheeled his office chair around, picked up the phone, and dialed Tina’s number.
At first the machine picked up and C.C. heard the familiar message. It was the breathy voices of two girls, Tina and Lola speaking in unison, promising the caller they’d return the call as Isaac Hayes sang in the background.
In mid-sentence, the machine clicked off.
“Hello?” Tina’s voice was all sweet and sleepy at first. He had clearly woken her up.
Was one o’clock too early? Damn!
“Hey, baby.” He spoke softly and tried a form of baby talk so as not to irritate her, but the baby talk backfired.
“Damn it C., you freakin’ woke me up! How many times do I have to tell you that?”
How she could generate that much lung power lying flat in bed under a pillow with her eyes still closed was a wonder.
“I’m starting to think you don’t respect me as a performer. You continually sabotage my career this way. How am I supposed to create tonight on stage if I’m exhausted?”
Tina was not a morning person.
Or, technically, an afternoon person.
“Sweet potato, you’ll be perfect no matter what. I just wanted to tell you I have a meeting tonight about the governor’s race and I’m in the mood to celebrate… Any ideas?” He couldn’t suppress an anticipatory smile. Maybe she’d describe in detail just how they would celebrate the good news after she got off work.
“I only have one freakin’ idea, C.C. Sleep! That’s my big idea. Now call me back after four, okay? Is that so freakin’ unreasonable? Just to let an artist sleep until a simple four o’clock? Is that so wrong? Am I asking too much out of you? To be conscious of my career demands just once?”
He paused, not sure how to answer after she posed the rhetorical question loudly into his ear.
Tina seized on C.C.’s silence and continued on.
“I mean, C.C., do you think it’s all about you just because you’re a big-shot judge? I mean, I’m a performer, for God’s sake…doesn’t that mean anything? I mean, does it count for anything to you? Must I be tortured every morning this way? It’s not all about you, C.C.”
God…how close to the receiver was her mouth?
No way was he going to get a sex fantasy phone call at this point.
Nothing to do but retreat and forge ahead after four.
“Yes, kitten…after four. Sleep tight.”