Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Diane and her besties, along with poor Jenna, were once again gathered around Rosa’s hospital bed. It had taken hours to get her examined, CT scanned, MRIed, bloodletted, and then finally settled into a room. Most of the day had passed. Mealtimes had come and gone, unnoticed.
Rosa had not stirred, but Diane was counting positives: She was breathing on her own and her vital signs were good, according to nurses.
“And look,” one said just then, poking Rosa’s foot with her thumbnail until it flinched away. “Pain response. She’s still in there.”
There was a tap on the hospital room door from the outside. Then it opened and Harry stood there like a breath of fresh air, with a pizza box balanced on one palm and a large bag in the other hand. Beside him this time, Jenna’s father Alberto.
“We ran into each other in the parking lot,” Harry said.
“I brought drinks,” Alberto added. “They’re in the waiting room. You girls need a food break. Jenna, hon, you should eat.”
His familiarity and the way he looked at Jenna, and the way she looked back, told Diane that a relationship had taken root.
But then Jenna lowered her head. “I’m afraid if I leave her, she’ll die.” There were tears in her voice.
Her father moved closer and put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him as if she’d known him always. Diane’s heart melted at the sight of it. She met Harry’s eyes and he gave a reassuring nod. He thought the guy was okay.
Harry was good at that, feeling who people were. He’d never liked Jeff. He’d faked it, for her sake, but he’d never liked him.
He said, “Sometimes the patient might need a little break too. Do you think your mom could use some quiet time, Jenna?”
“He’s right,” said the nurse. Her name was Lucia.
She was small with dark hair and eyes, and she had given them their first and only hint of hope with that whole “she’s still in there” comment.
She said, “Your mother is not near death. And there’s still plenty of brain wave activity.
We might end up there, but we’re not there yet.
Aside from Jenna, you all have to leave.
Visiting hours ended at nine, family. When you come back tomorrow, they’ll probably enforce the rules—two visitors in the room at once. Okay?”
“We really have to leave?” Bonnie asked.
Lucia’s face was so compassionate Diane was sure she’d lost someone close to her or experienced something like this.
She said, “All but you, Jenna. While you take a meal break, I’ll wheel in one of the nice recliners.
We can dig up a blanket and pillow for you too.
I’m on all night, and I’m not gonna throw you out.
” She looked at the others. “But only her, okay?”
Diane loved that she’d called them Jenna’s family. It was true, they were.
“We have a thing anyway,” Christine said softly.
“Rosa needs quiet and rest,” Nurse Lucia went on.
Jenna looked at her mom, nodded. “If she was awake, she’d be telling us to get the frick out and let her sleep.”
The women laughed softly. Harry backed out, and they followed after each of them leaned close to tell Rosa they’d be back soon. Alberto went last and pressed a long kiss to Rosa’s forehead. When he straightened, his eyes were moist.
Diane clasped his forearm and squeezed. “It’s good you’re here,” she whispered.
So they sat in the waiting room like a family.
They talked together and ate together. Harry was a steadfast, solid presence.
Diane thought she loved him more than she ever had.
Maybe because she didn’t know what the night ahead held for her.
There was a chance it could be her last. Sure, Christine didn’t think Jeff intended to hurt them, but she hadn’t thought he was a pedophile, either.
She didn’t know her husband at all, so she had no basis for her confidence.
Harry ate with them, talked about his day, a stray dog in the neighborhood that had caught his attention, the new car. He asked Bonnie about her veggie garden and Jenna about her articles, every one of which he’d read.
And every time he met her eyes, Diane felt him loving her, and remembering the night before. She’d slept like a baby afterward, despite everything that had happened. Harry soothed her soul. She wished her friends had a man like him in their lives.
When her unicorn of a husband got up to leave, Diane walked him to the elevators, leaned up, and kissed him deeply. “I might be late,” she said. “But the whole time, I’ll be thinking about coming home to you.”
“I’ll be doing the same,” he said. He kissed her once more, then stepped backward into the elevator when its doors opened.
The doors slid closed, and when she was alone again, Diane whispered, “I sure hope I don’t die tonight.”
The elevator behind her opened. “Diane?”
She turned and felt her heart drop to her feet, because Sam stood there in a dark suit with a shiny badge attached to his belt.
“Hey, I just heard,” he said. “How’s Rosa doing?”
“Uh…” Diane blinked, shook herself. “Not well. Everyone’s in the waiting room. Um. There’s pizza.”
He frowned, probably because she was stammering like a murder suspect would upon turning around and finding a cop in her face.
“This way,” she managed, then walked back to the waiting room and hoped her trembling knees didn’t show. “Look everyone. Sam’s here.” The words emerged flatly, no inflection whatsoever.
Pull it together, girl.
They entered the waiting room. Jenna looked up, and her face changed. Eased a little, maybe. Okay, so at least she was distracted from her own panic.
“I’m so sorry, Jenna,” Sam said as they hugged. “If there’s anything I can do, you know you can call me.”
“I know,” she said. “They’re letting me stay again. But I might need a ride home later on to get some things. They’re throwing Dad and the girls out, and I rode in the ambulance.”
Everyone perked at the word “dad,” except Alberto. His reaction to the word was an expression of bliss spreading across his face.
“Sure, sure,” Sam said. He nodded hello to Alberto as if he’d met him before. “Listen, my shift ends in an hour, barring emergencies. I’ll come back and pick you up then.”
Jenna nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I appreciate being able to do something to help.”
Christine rolled her eyes. “You raise him all polite like that, Bonnie?”
“That was all his dad,” Bonnie said.
Nurse Lucia came into the waiting room. “Jenna, can I see you a minute?”
Jenna grabbed her father’s hand, told the others, “Be right back,” and went through the doorway, pulling him along behind her.
Sam followed, but only to lean out and say to Jenna, “I need a minute with the girls, okay?”
Jenna nodded, her brows furrowing.
When Sam turned around again, Diane’s feeling of dread returned.
“I have to ask you ladies about something.” He looked worried. And guilty. Like a little kid about to confess he’d dug up the rose garden.
“Believe me, I don’t want to ask you,” he went on.
“I know it will offend you that I ask you. But I have to follow the law, you understand? I have to be able to show that I questioned you, even though I love you and even though you’re my mom and my honorary aunties. Please try not to get too mad at me.”
Bonnie sank onto one of the waiting room chairs. Diane sat close beside her and took her by the hand. Christine remained standing, trying to wilt Sam with her glare. “Well, spit it out, then, I guess. It can’t be as dire as you’re making it sound.”
“There was a murder—”
“A murder? You’re questioning us about a murder?” Diane asked.
“Sam, really,” Bonnie said in the key of disappointed mom.
“Look, Alberto’s pickup was photographed running a red light with Rosa behind the wheel.”
“Why was Rosa under surveillance?” Christine demanded.
“Rosa was under surveillance?” Bonnie cried. “Sam, how could you?”
Diane was torn between pity for Bonnie’s poor son, and pride in the girls’ game.
“Rosa was not under surveillance,” Sam said. “It’s an automatic camera. It goes off if you run the red light, captures your plate number, and you get a ticket in the mail.”
Diane sighed heavily. “Rosa can’t afford a ticket, Sam.”
“No,” Bonnie exclaimed. “That would send her insurance rates through the roof.”
“Surely you can fix a ticket,” Christine said. “Rosa needs our help right now.”
Sam took a long deep breath and Diane imagined he was counting to ten. She hoped they weren’t driving him too crazy.
“Please listen to me,” he said. “Please, just try to listen. Berto’s pickup was photographed right outside the scene of a murder, right near the time of the crime. All four of you were all clearly crammed into it together.”
“Well, we’re often in the same vehicle together,” Christine said. “That’s nothing you don’t know.”
“It was after eleven p.m. on a weeknight,” he said. “Where do four old ladies go that late at night?”
Christine gasped at the word “old” and Bonnie said “Sam!”
Diane just shook her head.
“No offense,” Sam said.
“Offense taken,” Christine replied. Then she shrugged. “We are not old. We are vibrant, alive, active, fun-loving women who like to have a good time. Sometimes we go to films, sometimes to concerts.”
“And sometimes we hit the clubs,” Bonnie said, hands going to her hips.
Sam lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me you mean book clubs.”
“Night clubs,” Bonnie said, clearly feeling delicious about it. “And there are witnesses, should it become necessary.”
Diane elbowed her, because that was a little bit too much.
Christine said, “Anything else, Sam? I need to get home.”
“Just one thing,” Sam said. “Do you or Jeff know Dan Fitzpatrick, the used car guy?”
Christine nodded thoughtfully. “Know him in passing. We belong to the same club. Jeff’s probably golfed with him.”
“Okay,” he said. “Do you know if Jeff’s seen him recently?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “You’ll have to ask him that. Tomorrow. It’s far too late tonight.”
Sam nodded, but he was looking at the girls oddly, like he was sensing something not quite right, but didn’t know what.