Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Riley groaned through a stretch before she’d even opened her eyes, wincing at the persistent ache in her hip. Two days since Monday’s procedure, but hopefully today would be better, and she could get some work done.
With a grunt, she raised herself on her elbows and gradually upright to sit with her legs dangling over the side of the bed. Yes, definitely better today. Yesterday, it had taken her another five minutes to get to this point.
Her phone notified her of an incoming text, and she picked it up from the nightstand.
John:
Morning, Riley. hope ur feeling better. good time for a call?
Sure thing.
Instead of trying to get out of bed and talk at the same time, she stacked her pillows against the headboard and scooted back against them, grimacing as pain shot through her hip and lower back. She pulled her covers up to her lap before her cell phone rang.
“Good morn—” She cleared her throat of the morning raspiness. “Sorry. Good morning, Detective.”
“Uh oh. Did I wake you up?”
A glance at her clock told her it was nearly half past ten. “No, I was awake. Lying here thinking about everything I’m getting behind on, especially with Christmas a week away.”
“Take the time to rest. Don’t push too hard.”
“I’ll try. So, what’s up?”
“I didn’t want to bother you yesterday, but I thought you’d like to know where we are with the case.”
“I absolutely would.”
“We met with Shane’s parents on Monday. Very interesting visit.”
She listened to the highlights of their conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Everett, her pulse rate increasing by the minute. “Warren has to be the guy. Way too many coincidences.”
“Exactly what we thought. Worked at the country club at the time Cait had been a regular there. Serious issues with his biological father raising, and favoring, a son who wasn’t his by birth.
A son who apparently excelled at everything he did.
Warren’s also a long-time volunteer with a community theater where he does everything from graphic art to makeup and costumes.
And previously employed at the hotel where the country club Christmas ball was held. ”
“And he was fired from the country club?”
“The dad didn’t know if he was fired or left, but said it was about four years ago. Had a problem sticking with a job. Always felt he was entitled to more than he got.”
“But no idea right now where he is?”
“None. Ran him in the system, but he’s no longer at the address on his current driver’s license, and there’s no forwarding.
We went by the theater yesterday and talked to the manager.
He knows Everett but said he’s not working on their current production.
Last he knew, Warren was employed at an assisted living center somewhere but couldn’t tell us where. ”
“Wait.” She stared at the painting on the wall in front of her, shuffling through the information in her head. Something about … assisted living center … “The car.”
“The car?”
“The burned-up one. Wasn’t it—”
“—stolen from an assisted living facility. I’d forgotten that. I’ve been so focused on Shane’s case file, trying to connect the dots, I wasn’t thinking about the attempted abduction. My apologies, Riley.”
“No worries. The brain can only process so much at one time. That’s why we’re a team. You, me, and … Colton.” She swallowed. Just saying his name made her chest hurt. “And the Houston PD, of course.”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Let me get with the facility to see if he’s working there. Could be he took advantage of the situation and boosted the resident’s car. Probably planned to return it, but then you and Devers got too good a look at it. Had to burn it.”
“If he does work there, or did, maybe they have a better address for him.”
His voice went distant, as if he were speaking to someone else. Her stomach dropped at the sound of Colton’s muffled voice. They were there together. But it had been John who called to update her. Was Colton that eager to keep his distance?
Or was he still protecting her? This time from himself?
“Okay, we’re going to head to the facility now. We went through the responding officers’ body cam footage from the original crime scene—Caitlyn’s—and Colton’s now reading through all the old notes from the investigative team. Nothing stands out yet, but there’s a lot more we need to weed through.”
Riley’s skin crawled. She’d been through the body cam footage herself. Not for the faint of heart. Scenes like that were hard enough to see when the victim was a stranger, but now that was the last image she had of her friend.
She shook off the picture in her mind. “My investigator has been re-interviewing the trial witnesses. I’ll send you his contact info. You can loop each other into what you’re covering so there’s no duplication of effort.”
“Another member of the team would be welcome. You’re not going into the office, are you?”
“No, we digitized whatever we could, including all the investigative notes. I can see it from my laptop. And I’m going to start on my brief for the appeal.”
“I’ll text you the driver’s license photo to give you an idea of what this guy actually looks like. Or did four years ago.”
“I appreciate it.” Not that she relished looking into those eyes again—if indeed Warren was their man—but she needed to know.
“I’ll let you go. We’ve been praying your recovery is quick.”
“Thanks for the prayers. I only wish I knew if everything went well with the transplant. I understand they won’t know if it took for a while yet, but it’s hard having to wait a year to know who he is.”
Although she’d wondered about the boy in the wagon.
She’d visited the rooms of the children who hadn’t been in the play area, but he seemed the most ill of the leukemia patients she’d met.
Either way, they’d all been in her prayers every day since, including the tiny girl who had wanted to marry Colton.
The memory of him embracing the little one brought a warmth to her chest missing since he’d walked out of her life. If she could keep the good memories alive, maybe she’d recover more quickly. As it was, the pain in her hip would dissipate long before the ache in her heart.
“Hold on.” John’s voice said something in the background, then silence for a second.
“Riley.”
Her pulse jumped. “Co-Colton. How are you?”
“I’m fine. John passed your question to me.
I know the recipient. Met the family. The registry looped me in since the match was found through the foundation.
I can’t tell you who he is since, as you already mentioned, recipients and donors can’t know the other’s identity for a year post-transplant.
But I can tell you it all went well, and the family was grateful.
That’s all I know right now, but I’ll keep you posted. ”
“You were there? When they did the transplant?”
“They brought your marrow up after your procedure, and I got there right after they started the boy’s IV. It was that quick.”
“Wow. Thank you.” A relief to know at least Colton had the information. While it could be a month or so before they could confirm it as a success, improvement in his blood work should show signs of healthy cells and platelets within the next two to four weeks. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem. John’ll shoot you the DL pic. Let us know if you see anything. But get your rest. Don’t work too hard. We’re on it.”
“I know you are. It’s been a lot less stressful knowing you two are working together. But I want to help where I can. Hopefully, that little boy will get a second chance at life. It would be nice if the same could be said for Shane.”
“Agreed. Take care of yourself. We’ll be in touch.”
Before she could respond, the call disconnected.
She stared at her phone. His voice still sent tingles along the back of her neck. How she would miss it after this was all over and they had no reason to stay in contact.
Her phone dinged again, and she brought up the photo of the driver’s license. Too small to see the actual photo clearly, so she emailed it to herself to check on her laptop.
It took her a couple of minutes, but she finally made it to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do something with her mop of hair. A messy bun was the perfect solution. After washing her face, she ambled into her study.
She stopped short at the sight of a huge bouquet of roses sitting on the dresser. When had those arrived? She’d spent Monday night and most of yesterday in bed, but they hadn’t been there last night.
She must have been in a deep sleep this morning since she never heard anyone come in, much less leave the gorgeous arrangement of yellow flowers. As she walked over to her desk, the pain gradually diminished. She found the card in the arrangement and pulled it out.
Thank you for your generous and life-giving gift. We so appreciate your loving spirit and open heart.
Your friends at the Theresa Blankenship Foundation
“Colton.”
Two dozen roses. The foundation would probably do something like this for all their donors, but for now, she’d savor the idea they came from Colton.
Fingering the delicate petals, she closed her eyes. Eleven days. It had been eleven days since he’d walked away. He said a little while out of her life and she’d see what she believed to be love was actually infatuation with an image.
How was it, then, every day the ache grew more intense? He might be gone bodily, but he remained in her thoughts, her dreams, and her heart.
It wasn’t a crush, an infatuation. It wasn’t gratitude or a need to feel safe. It was him. Who he was as a person. A good man. A godly man. A man who’d suffered and questioned and still come back to the Lord.
A man she could build something with if he’d give them a chance.
Her eyes opened as her mother walked into the study. “Hey, Mom.”
“You’re up.” Mom’s smile lit her face. Her mother always had an inner glow, a peace about her only God could provide. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, better. Only took me three minutes to get out of bed. Much improved over yesterday.”