Dark Hearts (4 page)

Lee glanced back at Trey. “Thank you,” he said and hurried to catch up.

Trey left ICU again, but in a different state than when he'd entered. His horror at what had happened was slowly being replaced with rage. Three people had been killed on his watch. Now Trina was in as much danger as the others had been. Even as he was thinking about the guards who would be with her, he realized there was a weak link in his plan to keep her safe. If the killer worked in the hospital, he had just unwittingly dumped her back in the bastard's lap.

The first thing he had to do was get the names of everyone who'd graduated with his mother, and then find out where they were and what they did for a living so he could eliminate them as suspects. And he knew exactly where to start.

It was raining like hell when he walked out of the hospital, and even though he ran to the cruiser, he was soaked by the time he got in.

He glanced at the time.

Almost twenty minutes after twelve. It was tomorrow. Sam would be here soon, and knowing Sam, the shit was likely to hit the fan.

* * *

Lainey couldn't sleep, but it had nothing to do with the storm, even though wind was blowing rain against the windows. Intermittent lightning and thunder rattled the panes. Although it was after midnight she was pacing the floor from room to room, unable to settle down. All the lights were on, and so was the television, because she wanted the noise.

The fact that Sam Jakes was coming back to Mystic had thrown her life out of rhythm. It had taken her years to get over him and get on with her life. At least she'd thought she was over him until Dallas's phone call. All she'd done since the call was relive the past. Earlier she had tried to convince herself that hating him would keep her safe. He'd already broken her heart. But hate was an emotion that didn't go with Sam Jakes.

When he'd first flown back to the States, she had understood the level of pain he was in and why he was unable to take phone calls. But she hadn't understood why he refused to see her. Still, she coped with disappointment by sending notes and cards via his family, even though he never sent a single message back.

She'd waited and waited and tried not to feel excluded from the healing journey he was on, until, finally, she broke. He obviously didn't want to see her, and she wanted to know why, so she left Mystic in secret and drove all the way to the VA hospital without telling anyone she was going.

It was five days before Christmas, and the day was bitter cold. She had wrapped her mother's blue wool scarf around her to block the air from blowing down the neck of her coat and tied a matching blue ribbon into her hair. Her hands were shaking as she entered the hospital, and her voice broke when she asked for the number of his room.

It wasn't until she was approaching his door that it dawned on her she might run into some of his family. Nervous all over again, she hesitated for a few moments outside the door, listening until she was certain he was alone, and then carefully slipped into his room, only to find him sleeping.

She didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't what she saw. In that moment she began to understand why he had shut her out. She saw the man lying in that bed and was unable to find any part of the Sam Jakes she knew beneath the bandages. When he began to stir, she'd bolted in a panic and left without anyone knowing she was there.

After she got home she kept telling herself that when he got better she would go again, but she didn't, and then one day she called Betsy for an update and found out that he'd been out of the hospital almost a month and no one knew where he was.

That was when she realized she'd been abandoned. He hadn't given her a chance to prove she could love him no matter how he looked. He'd just made the decision for her. It had taken her years to get over the heartbreak and to realize she hadn't fought for herself when he was rejecting her. Now when she thought of Sam it was with disappointment in the man she'd thought she knew. Her dilemma now was how to feel about seeing him again.

* * *

Trey Jakes' first job this morning had taken him straight back to Mystic High. He hadn't been inside the school since the day he graduated, and he was mildly surprised by the updates, even if it did still smell like school.

He headed straight for the superintendent's office and took off his hat as he approached the secretary.

“Ma'am, I need to speak to Mr. Porter, please.”

The secretary was startled by the appearance of the police chief and wondered if one of their students had done something wrong. “Just a moment,” she said.

Trey waited as she went to let her boss know he was there. Then the outer door to Will Porter's office opened, and he was standing in the doorway.

“Chief Jakes, come in,” Will said, and stepped aside as Trey walked in. “Have a seat.”

Will was suddenly anxious. He'd finally made a decision to run for state superintendent and had been in the act of filling out the paperwork when Trey Jakes arrived. Now he was wondering why a cop was sitting in his office.

“Now, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“Do you have back copies of the high school yearbooks? Particularly the 1980 yearbook?” Trey asked.

Will's eyes widened.

“I don't think the school does, but I have one at home,” Will said. “I would be glad to loan it to you.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Trey said. “Can I stop by the house and pick it up?”

Will frowned. Even though it was early in the day, God only knew what shape his wife would be in.

“My wife isn't home right now, so why don't I run by the house and pick it up? I'll drop it off at the precinct for you, okay?”

Trey nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. I'll make sure to return it as soon as we've gotten the information we need.”

“This has to do with the murders, doesn't it?” Will asked.

“Yes, sir, it does,” Trey said.

“Do you think someone from my class is doing this?”

Trey shrugged. “I think it has to do with the school. Whether it has to do with your class or not is another subject.”

“I don't know what I think, except that what's happened is a tragedy,” Will said.

“That it is,” Trey said. “So I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for your help,” he added as he stood. “Don't get up, I'll let myself out.”

As soon as Trey was gone, Will grabbed his keys and left his office, only pausing for a moment to tell his secretary where he was going, and then hurried home.

* * *

It was nearly 11:00 a.m. when Sam Jakes came around the curve in the road and saw the Mystic city-limits sign. He'd done this so many times in his dreams that there was a part of him that thought he was still dreaming, that he wasn't actually there.

Then he passed a man walking down the side of the road with a stringer of fish over his shoulder and not only identified the kind of fish the man had caught but also recognized the face. It was one of the Pryor brothers who lived up on the mountain. This had never been part of the dream. This had to be real.

He drove into town with a knot in his belly, and the farther he went, the bigger it grew. He slowed down as he passed the police precinct but didn't stop and kept driving north until he saw the motel.

He was stiff from the drive and stood for a few moments after he got out, stretching his legs and letting the muscles relax. After he entered he paused at the counter, thinking the woman looked familiar, and then realized this was going to be a continuing thing. Just because he'd left Mystic didn't mean everyone else had, too.

“Welcome to Mystic,” she said, and then gasped.

“Sam Jakes! Oh, my word! It's been ages.” Then her expression fell. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Sam said. “I think Trey reserved a room for me.” He slid a credit card across the counter.

“Yes, he did, but he didn't say it was for you. You don't remember me, do you? I'm Delia Summers. Your mother was one of my best friends.”

Sam eyed her closer, seeing the woman she'd been beneath the extra weight and white hair.

“Yes, now I do. It's good to see you again,” he said.

She scanned the credit card, gave it back and then handed him the room key.

“Room 130. It's around back, which will give you a little more privacy.”

He was surprised by her thoughtfulness.

“I appreciate it, Mrs. Summers.”

“Delia! Please! And give Trey my best. We all have Trina in our prayers.”

He left the office and drove around back and easily found the door to his room. He swiped the key card and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the furnishings as he went in. It had a tan carpet, brown-and-gold bedding and tan-and-gold curtains.

He left his suitcase on the bed and sent Trey a text that he was in town. Now that he was there, he felt the need to hurry and get to Trina. He washed up in haste, and when he saw Trey hadn't returned the text, he began to worry. Being chief of police in your own hometown had to have its own set of challenges.

By the time he got to the hospital he had a knot in his stomach. Hospitals made him antsy anyway, and having his sister in critical condition made it worse. Last night's rain had left puddles in the parking lot, and from the look of the sky it appeared more rain was imminent.

He was walking toward the hospital when his phone signaled a text. It was Trey.

I'm just leaving the high school. I'll be there soon. Lee will fill you in. He's Trina's boyfriend.

Sam frowned as he reached the entrance. Damn it to hell but he hated hospitals. He took a deep breath, walked inside like he owned the place and headed for the information desk.

A uniformed volunteer smiled at him as he approached.

“Ma'am, how do I get to ICU?” he asked.

She pointed down the hall. “Take the elevator up to the third floor, take a right and go all the way to the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, and headed down the hall. Three women were already waiting at the elevator when he walked up. They turned out of curiosity. While he didn't recognize any of them, they obviously knew who he was.

The elevator opened, and he followed them on, pressed the button for the third floor and then moved all the way to the back of the car.

A thin brunette was the first to speak. She was clutching her purse against her chest like a shield as she turned around.

“You have my sympathies,” she said.

An older woman nodded. “And mine,” she added, while eyeing him from head to toe.

The third woman was a buxom blonde whose gaze was more intent and less into consolation. “Long time, no see, Sam,” she said.

“I'm sorry, you ladies have me at a disadvantage,” he said.

“We're Harpers,” the blonde one said. “Wilma is our mother, Wilda here is my younger sister and I'm Wynona.”

He had a vague memory of skinny kids running wild along the creek.

“You lived across the creek from my parents' farm,” Sam said.

Wilma nodded. “We still do. We're so sorry to hear about your mama. This whole killing business has been horrible. Just horrible. I haven't had one good night's sleep since they found Dick Phillips hanging in his barn.”

Sam flinched. Obviously one of the details Trey had yet to fill him in on.

The elevator stopped on two and the women got off.

“It was good to see you again,” Wynona said, and then winked.

Sam's phone rang just as the door closed between them. He noticed it was from the office and let it go. He'd already told his secretary to cancel his appointments until further notice. Whatever was happening, it could wait.

He got off the elevator on the third floor and headed down the hall just like the lady had said, following the signs to ICU.

The nurse on duty at the desk looked up.

“What room is Trina Jakes in?” he asked.

“What's your name, please?” she asked.

He frowned. “I'm her brother Sam.”

“Could I see some identification, please?” she asked.

His frown deepened as he handed his license to her.

She checked it against a list, then handed it back with an apology.

“I'm sorry, but we're under orders from the chief of police to limit her visitors to immediate family only, and I'm new to Mystic and don't know anyone.”

Good call, little brother.
“It's okay. I appreciate your diligence.”

“She's down that way in 12B. There'll be a guard at her door who will probably ID you, as well.”

Sam heard her, but he had begun to hear what was going on in here, as well, and when the skin tightened on the back of his neck, reminding him of all the time he'd spent in ICU, he knew it was going to be a hard visit to make.

He lengthened his stride and saw a man standing guard by a door. Room 12B.

“Sam Jakes. I'm here to see my sister,” he said and flipped open his wallet, letting the guard see his private investigator license as well as his ID.

The guard looked closely at both before he gave the okay for Sam to go in.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Jakes. I'm Mike Cantrell with Embry Security. Visiting will end at noon and resume again at 2:00 p.m.”

“Thanks,” Sam said and entered the room.

As he did, the young, dark-haired man sitting beside her bed suddenly stood.

“I'm guessing you're Lee,” Sam said.

The man nodded.

“I'm Sam Jakes. Nice to meet you.”

“It's nice to meet you, too, sir,” Lee said. “I'm going to step outside and give you some time with Trina. She's in a drug-induced coma, so don't worry about her not responding to anything you say. The doctor said she's holding her own. That's the update.”

He eyed Sam curiously as he left the room, and Sam could only imagine what he was thinking—probably something along the lines of
Where the hell did
he
come from?