Chapter Thirty-Four Raine
Chapter Thirty-Four
Raine
Death and administrative details went hand in hand. I had practice at both, thanks to my parents. I knew what calls to make.
But instead of acting, I just sat on a kitchen chair, staring at my phone. I couldn’t think who I should call first.
Judson must know, of course. Maria’s death had escalated the charges from attempted to premeditated murder.
I pictured the prosecutor explaining to a jury how cyanide doesn’t just pour itself into a woman’s wineglass; even when consumed in small doses, it wreaks havoc on the body.
He’d detail how it would cramp the belly.
Rattle the mind. Rip heart muscles. That this death would feel like drowning.
Maria’s death would toss a wrench into Gabe’s bail plan. Would the judge require more money?
I dialed.
“Judson,” I said when he picked up.
“You’ve heard?” His voice was deep, graveled.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
We were in the shocked stage. Anger, sadness, and regret would follow, but right now I was blissfully numb. “Are you doing an autopsy?”
“Yes. It’ll be tomorrow or the next day. She’ll need to be transported to the Western Lab in Roanoke.”
“When will they release her body?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Waiting until morning. Gabe can’t do anything tonight.”
“What about Edith?”
“Do you want me to call her?” he asked.
“No. Like it or not, Maria was family. And I owe it to her.”
“Call me if I can help.”
I pressed the phone to my temple. There’d been a time when his focused view of the world bothered me. A straight arrow who didn’t make mistakes. I was the one who blundered. “Thank you.”
I called Edith, knowing I was going to wake her up. She’d always gone to bed early, and with Molly in the house, she clearly needed more rest.
She answered on the third ring. “Raine.”
“Edith.” The words caught in my throat before I cleared it. “Maria passed an hour ago. Her heart failed.” I would repeat this phrase over and over in the coming weeks. It would become practiced and glide more numbly over my lips. But now it was raw and ragged. Tears clogged my throat.
“What? Are you sure?” Her voice was heavy with sleep.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I talked to her on the phone this afternoon.”
“You called her?”
“She called me. She wanted to hear about Molly’s day at school.”
“Did she talk to Molly?”
“No. Molly was napping. She said she’d call back before bedtime. But she didn’t.”
“You could have woken up the girl for Maria.”
“She was asleep.”
It had been a petty act of revenge that in the grand scheme was monumental. It was the girl’s last chance to talk to her mother.
“Where is Molly now?”
“Sleeping. Do you want me to wake her?”
I needed time to think and process. “I’ll be by in the morning.”
When I hung up, the darkness drifted around me, tightening like a shroud. I dressed in jeans, sweatshirt, boots.
The air outside was cold, heavy, and sharp.
I sat on the stairs. Glanced at my phone and noticed the hours-old texts from Maria.
Maria: Save my daughter.
“I will,” I whispered. “First thing in the morning.”
Maria: I don’t want Molly in Edith’s house.
“I’ll be there when she wakes up.”
Maria: When Molly is safe, do me one more favor. Feed Gabe to the wolves.
The texts had arrived this evening. She’d died an hour later. The damp air magnified the acrid scent of the boxwoods.
Feed Gabe to the wolves.
For killing Maria, his wife.
The mother of his child.
Tears pooled in my eyes. My mother would’ve told me to grow up. I swiped away several tears before standing and grabbing my purse.
I drove back to the hospital. I found a spot in the parking garage and walked to the elevators.
I rushed to Maria’s floor because I wasn’t sure where to go. I looked in her room and saw the stripped bed. Her name had been wiped from the dry-erase board, and someone had removed all her belongings.
Dr. Webber was on duty, and I found her at the nurses’ station, glaring at a computer screen. When she saw me, she straightened, removed her glasses, and stood.
“Ms. Hale,” she said.
“Dr. Webber. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” She came around the nurses’ station and led me into the empty waiting room.
Pity and worry darkened her eyes. But I didn’t want any solace. “What happened?”
“She was stable. Alert. And then she crashed.”
“I was supposed to return in the morning. I had papers for her to sign.”
Dr. Webber was silent. She’d done this enough to realize there wasn’t anything she could say. “I’m sorry.”
We could continue this dance. Me verbalizing my denial. Dr. Webber apologizing. And in the end, nothing would change. I wouldn’t feel better. Her news wouldn’t change. Maria would still be dead.
“Thank you. When will the medical examiner’s office be there?”
“They’ve just arrived,” she said.
I pictured Maria on a stainless autopsy table, a stranger ripping flesh and cracking bone. “Thank you.”
I rode the elevators down to the main lobby. As I crossed, Judson pushed through the front revolving doors. “Raine.”
He approached me, then stood so close I resisted an urge to step backward. An apology darkened his eyes. In another world, he’d have opened his arms . . . I’d have stepped into them. Together we’d have mourned the loss of Maria.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I’d handled death before, but my parents had been in their fifties. They’d seemed ancient then.
He wrapped his arms around me, surprising me. I didn’t stiffen or resist. I relaxed into him. We still fit together. His familiar scent was soothing. It would be easy to think we were still us.
I pulled back. And immediately missed the warmth softening the chill burrowing deep in my bones. “Thanks for that.”
The stoic expression faltered. “Of course.”
“I better get back to Hale House. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“What’re you going to do about Molly?”
“I’ll petition the court for custody.”
“What about Gabe’s parental rights?”
“I’ll get him to sign over custody.”
“You’re going to take his daughter?”
“Hales are known for messy endings.”