Betrayal (31 page)

“I'm sorry for what happened to you,” she finally said.

Maria sat stone-faced.

“You shouldn't have started that fire,” Valerie said.

Maria shifted her gaze to the parking lot. “I did what no one else would do,” she said.

Just as Valerie opened her mouth, Jade, the by-the-book-nurse, burst into room 123. Jade's eyes were full of worry.

“Your daughters are in the hospital, Valerie,” she said.

Valerie spun around and collected herself. “What?”

Jade nodded. “Harborview. They've been in an accident or something.”

Maria looked over her shoulder. With a smile, she said, “I hope they both die.”

Valerie ignored her and went for her phone. Her encounter with Maria had been intense, but
this
news nearly knocked her to the floor. She dialed Kevin's number, and it went to voice mail.

“Honey, meet me at Harborview. It's the girls.”

Chapter 36

NEITHER HAYLEY NOR TAYLOR KNEW what had been more embarrassing: the fact that they had messed up to such a degree that they were in the hospital or the fact that the hospital gowns they were forced to wear were imprinted with Hello Kitty images. Neither would admit, at least not out loud, that the helicopter ride had been kind of cool. They'd never in a million years admit to that. They couldn't stand the stories of hikers who were stupid enough to get lost and then have to be airlifted to safety. Their adventure to McNeil Island had peeled back a thin layer of what they were trying to figure out, but the cost had been great.

Almost too great.

While they waited for their mom to get to the hospital and read them the riot act, ground them for life, and tell them they had made a mistake that could have ended in the biggest tragedy of a family that had too many already, they sat up in their hospital beds with the TV on. Each girl rolled her eyes as Dr. Phil ranted about how dishonest a drug-addict mother had been to her children.

“You told them that you'd take them to Disneyland, but you used all the money for crack? Who does that?” he asked.

The woman glowered at the bald talk-show host with the boomerang mustache.

“I guess people who bring big ratings to your show do,” she said.

Taylor looked at her sister in the next bed. “Okay, Hayley, we thought Brianna's mom sucked. This one here is worse.”

The minute Taylor said that, the girls noticed the news crawl that ran along the bottom of the screen:

SILVERDALE STABBING VICTIMS AIRLIFTED TO HARBORVIEW . . .

BELIEVED TO BE MISSING TEEN AND VICTIM'S MOTHER . . .

“Do you think they're talking about Bree's mom and Drew? It can only be
them
, right, Taylor?”

The girls turned from the TV to the window and the sounds of an approaching helicopter.

“This isn't extrasensory crap, Hayley. It has to be them.”

A NURSE NAMED CANDIS WALTERS INTERRUPTED the twins' conversation. Her steel-wool gray hair was swept into a suspiciously perfect up-do and her glasses hung from a silver chain. Candis fit neatly into one of the two categories the twins had identified for the nursing staff. She was a warm, friendly chatterbox of a woman—the type that got into nursing to be a nurturer. The other category was “the pokers and prodders.” Those nurses seemed to have decided nursing was a legal way to torture people—and it required less schooling than dentistry.

“How are you girls doing?” Candis asked, her kind green eyes sizing up the teens in their matching hospital beds. Both were set at the exact same angle.

“Better,” Hayley said, smiling back. “A lot better.”

Candis nodded, reviewed Taylor's vitals, and made a note in her chart.

“You're very lucky you didn't freeze to death out there,” she said. “You, my dear, are a lucky duck! Do you know that the average person can swim in Puget Sound for only twenty minutes? And that's in August. Not November!”

“I guess I did pretty well,” Taylor said. She resisted the urge to say “quack quack” like a vacationer on one of those amphibian vehicle tours in Seattle.

“We just heard the helicopter outside,” Hayley said. “What was that all about?”

Candis straightened Taylor's blanket. “You warm enough, dear?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said, waiting for the nurse to answer. “Who's arrived?”

Candis made a face that indicated complete disgust.

“That kid from up north,” she said. “The one who killed those two girls. He and one of the murder victim's mothers are being rolled in downstairs to ICU.”

Taylor played dumb. She and her sister had a pretty good idea what had gone on. Drew had turned out to be a maniac. “What happened?” she asked.

“The cops are sorting it out,” Candis said.

“That's good. How are they doing?” Hayley asked.

Candis looked around the room, her eyes flitting from girl to girl. “We're not allowed to give out that kind of info, but between you and me and the fence post, I doubt either one of them will make it. They are both cut up pretty bad. Kind of fitting, if you ask me.”

Hayley was interested in her choice of words. She seemed to be, after all, a kind-hearted nurse.

“Fitting?” she asked.

Candis shrugged and shut the file folder documenting their progress since they'd arrived from McNeil Island. Both girls were scraped up a little. Taylor was chilled to the bone from her swim, but was otherwise in good shape. Hayley had cracked a rib, but her leg, which had felt so sore, was fine—bruised but fine. Their condition was nothing short of remarkable, considering their ordeal.

“He cut up that girl, the foreign one, up in Port Gamble. Looks like the psycho got what he deserved. A taste of his own bloody medicine.” Candis looked around warily, but went on. “Mind you, I'm not supposed to talk about other patients. But sometimes I just can't help myself. It just comes out of me like a burp. I'll be back in an hour,” she said. “Your mom will be here soon. Your dad too. He's coming from the airport.”

Hayley nodded. She was glad to hear that. So was her sister.

“Thanks, Candis,” Hayley said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Taylor added.

Candis smiled at the twins. Their pale skin had regained some color and they looked much, much better.

“You two really are something,” she said. “Crawling around in a prison and swimming in Puget Sound in November? Good gravy.

Unreal.” She winked at them and stepped out into the hall.

The instant Candis had disappeared down the hallway, Taylor looked over at her sister. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Hayley nodded, feeling a stab of pain in her sore rib from the motion. “Yeah. We're going downstairs.”

Taylor smiled. “Uh-huh. That's right.”

Hayley slid gingerly to the edge of the bed, and disconnected the IV with the saline solution. “Okay,” she said, “but can you double-tie this stupid hospital gown? If it pops open in the rear, there will be another dead girl from Port Gamble—dead from embarrassment.”

Taylor went to help her and started to giggle. “Got your back, Hayley. Literally.”

Hayley shot her a playful glare, and two minutes later they were headed toward the elevator.

“Let's take the stairs. No one ever takes the stairs,” Taylor said.

“Right,” Hayley said, “because in a hospital, not many can.”

THE TWINS LOOKED THROUGH THE GLASS of the Intensive Care Unit. It was like a force field, a zoo, a separation from the hectic pace of the place and the empty, sad, sterile room that represented the last chance for so many patients. A group of ER nurses sat around a big horseshoe-shaped desk chatting and watching a bank of monitors that displayed all the vitals for each of the patients who were being observed in the ICU.

Standing among them like a redwood in a forest of bonsai were Annie Garnett and her part-time deputy Stephen Shields. The girls recognized him primarily from his second job at the humane society.

“Someone lose their cat?” Hayley joked.

Taylor put her fingers to her lips and kept her eyes fixed on Annie. The police chief was speaking to one of the nurses.

“Can you make out what she's saying?” Hayley asked, leaning as close to the glass as she could without touching it.

Taylor had taken a year of American Sign Language as her foreign language requirement and while she didn't have a knack for signing, she was pretty good at reading lips.

“Yeah,” she said. “Annie is telling the nurses that she and her deputy are getting coffee and they'll be back in a half hour. The nurse is saying that the patients are stable but unresponsive.”

Annie and Stephen started toward the girls. Hayley jerked Taylor into the first doorway by the entrance to the ICU.

“That was close,” she said.

“We need to find out what really happened to Olivia.”

“And Brianna. Don't forget her.”

“I think I know part of why she was killed, but there's got to be more to the story.”

Taylor noticed that they were in the nurses' locker and break room. A row of plum-colored scrubs hung on pegs on the farthest wall. They could hear a shower running and the sound of a nurse washing her hair. She was belting out an Adele song like she was auditioning for
X Factor.

And she didn't have a chance.

“Let's get out of these gowns and into those,” Hayley said, pointing to the scrubs.

Taylor nodded and started to dress. “You take Drew,” she said. “I'll take Brianna's mom.”

Hayley slipped into a pair of scrubs and tied the belt with a bow. She realized the pair would not be in the same room. Until the police chief had everything sorted out, both suspects would remain in isolation.

Even so, she wasn't thrilled with her sister's division of the task at hand.

“How come I get him? He's so creepy,” Hayley said.

“And Mrs. Baker isn't?” Taylor asked, annoyed, but still able to keep her voice low. “Come on, we can't argue. We've got the tiniest window of opportunity to see what we can find out.”

The only way into the ICU was with a key card, and while neither girl had ever stolen a thing in their lives, they went for the open locker where the nurse in the shower had undressed. Hanging on a steel hook was a lanyard emblazoned with
TEAM HARBORVIEW
. At the end of it dangled a hospital key card with the smiling photo of a middle-aged woman with cream-colored skin and black hair.

“She's Meagan,” Taylor whispered. “Well, I guess you're Meagan now. I've always sort of liked that name.” Taylor looked closely at the photo and shook her head. “You look nothing like her, by the way.”

Hayley tugged at her sister. “Very funny.”

“Okay, Meg, let's go. And remember, the key is to act like you belong here. All right?”

“Got it,” she said. “I'm all attitude.”

A second later, Hayley swiped the card. They were in.

BLOOD CRUSTED HIS HAIR and Drew Marcello's eyes were shut. Tubes snaked from his arm to a glistening IV unit that hung on a steel hook just over his right shoulder. A heart monitor to his left tapped out a steady beat in a pale green light.

“Drew,” Hayley said, keeping her voice low and aimed at his ear. “Can you hear me?”

The monitor kept its steady dull flashing, but Drew remained still and quiet.

Hayley looked up and caught the eye of a nurse, who, incredibly, waved to her from the other side of the room.

She waved back and did what she had to do to get Drew to answer— she gave him a shove on his bandaged shoulder.

“Drew, damn it. Wake up!”

His eyes fluttered a little and, hearing his name, he cracked them open a tiny slit.

“Mom?”

“No, it's not your mom. It's me. Hayley Ryan.”

His eyes wandered over hers. “You work here?”

Hayley swallowed and nodded. “Kind of part-time,” she said.

“Oh. I'm in the hospital, right?” he asked, his eyes tracking the space all around him once more.

“That's right,” she said. “You're gonna make it.”

Drew closed his eyes and turned away. “I don't want to make it,” he said. “I'm better off dead.”

Hayley watched the monitor flicker. She nudged him again. “You need to tell me what happened to Olivia and Brianna, Drew.”

He winced a little and shook his head. “Just let me die.”

Hayley was practically on top of him. She wanted him to give her answers. She needed to know. They all did.

“Why do you want to die? Because of what happened to Olivia? Brianna?”

In that moment, Hayley didn't have it in her to say what she was really thinking: Because of how you murdered Olivia? Stabbed her? Strangled Brianna? You want to die because that's the easy way out and you're a weak coward?

An alarm sounded. Drew pulled her close and whispered what she wanted to know.

He was still talking when a nurse came in.

“Who on God's green earth are you?

“I'm Meg,” Hayley said, looking up at the fortyish nurse who stared at her in the most no-nonsense way.

“Like hell you are,” the nurse said.

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ER, Taylor bent over Brianna's mother. Up close, Brandy Connors Baker didn't seem like such a monster. She was no bigger than a girl, really. Taylor could easily make out the tiny incisions that Brandy's oh-so-styled hairline had covered after her latest bout of cosmetic surgery. She remembered how Brianna had once quoted her mom as saying that after thirty-five “a woman needed a face and body makeover” and that “diet and exercise alone were for people without the money to do better.”

Brandy didn't
look
better just then. She looked small. Tiny. Weak. So frail. Even though she'd been a witch to Brianna, Taylor couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her.

“I know you,” Brandy said, looking up at Taylor. Her eyes were softer than Taylor remembered, though in that moment she conceded that it might be the result of the wooziness that came with the IV pain medication dripping to her bloodstream.