More Than Great Riches (3 page)

Tracy spun around, almost relieved to see the police chief striding toward her. He was in
uniform today, clean shaven, looking very official, very competent, and very much in
charge. She wanted to throw up her hands and burst into tears, but she refused to cry in
front of her hometown audience. Mr. Walden says I’ve thrown a rod, she managed.

Without a word he slid into the driver’s seat of her car and turned the key in the
ignition. The racket that followed sounded like a dozen machine guns all firing at once.
Quickly he switched off the motor. Stepping out, he crouched down to peer under the car.
Tracy stared at the puddle of oil seeping out into the street.

Leif got to his feet, shaking his head. Sorry, Miss Dixon, it’s definitely a blown rod.

Tracy knew as much about the anatomy of an automobile as she did about the space shuttle,
but from the expression on his face she knew she had a major problem. I suppose it will
take quite a while to fix that, she said wistfully.

Leif was decent enough not to laugh at her ignorance. He actually looked sympathetic as he
loomed over her. Miss Dixon, it could take Henry a week or more to find parts for that
car. And even if he can track down an engine, are you sure it’s worth the expense to
repair a car as old as that one? It’s going to set you back at least two thousand dollars.
You could sell it to one of those antique car buffs who like to restore old automobiles.

Tracy spirits hit bottom as she stared at the old Ford. When her mother moved away, she
left the car for Tracy to use, but it cost quite a bit to park in the lot at her Brooklyn
apartment. She had been ready to sell the Galaxie or even give it away. Public
transportation in New York was cheap and convenient, but as long as she was stuck here in
Allerton, she had to have wheels. She considered herself competent to handle anything that
came her way, but now she was totally at a loss. She couldn’t afford repairs. She couldn’t
afford a used car. She couldn’t even afford a rental.

I need to get to Boston to see Jeff—today. Tracy could hear the quaver in her own voice.

Leif nodded. OK, we’ll fix you up with a tow, and then I’ll take you to the hospital.

No. Oh, no, she protested. She had already spent too much time in the company of the chief
of police. No, I couldn’t ask you to do that. If you would just take me to Plymouth, maybe
I can catch the train.

You didn’t ask. I offered. I’m taking you to Boston. His offer sounded suspiciously like
an order.

But she had no choice. All her plans to keep a low profile vanished in a cloud of exhaust.
If she kept protesting, she’d just give him more reason to be suspicious of her. She
choked out a feeble, Thanks.

Here we go again.
She heaved a weary sigh.
So much for avoiding the police.

Leif eased his SUV into the flow of traffic on the interstate. With rush hour over, it
should be an easy ride into Boston. No ice slicks today. The world was starting to turn
green again. Maybe winter would finally give up.

He caught the scent of Tracy’s perfume. He was no authority on perfumes, but she smelled
like spring flowers. Everything about her baffled him. Her sweetness and innocence just
didn’t fit the typical criminal profile. But he couldn’t let that influence him. He had
learned his lesson. Tracy wouldn’t be the first woman to be led astray by a slick,
fast-talking boyfriend.

He slanted a quick glance at his passenger. She seemed unusually subdued, huddled against
the door, staring out at the trees. Of course, she wasn’t too thrilled when he virtually
kidnapped her this morning. She probably felt as though she were under arrest.

And she was dealing with some tough issues. Her brother’s life was in jeopardy, her car
was a disaster, and the NYPD was breathing down her neck. Which was uppermost in her mind?

He had been debating the best way to keep her under surveillance when that blown rod
dropped her right into his lap. This was his chance to dig out a little more information
about her relationship with Rick Timmons.

Several of Allerton’s upstanding citizens hinted that Tracy Dixon wasn’t the innocent she
appeared to be. He pressed them for specifics, but nobody gave him anything concrete.

Others suggested that you couldn’t expect Tracy to be a model citizen. After all, her
father deserted the family when she and Jeff were just kids, and her mother was one of
those fluttery, helpless types. The grandparents had to support the family.

In any event his pure-as-snow princess apparently was hiding some dirty laundry. He would
just have to dig deeper to find the secrets hidden behind that perfect façade.

So, you’re a celebrity. Made all the headlines.

Fire blazed in those brilliant blue eyes as she turned to face him. She had a way of
lifting her chin that said, Don’t tread on me. But was that sudden flush in her cheeks a
sign of guilt or anger?

The newspapers don’t tell the whole story. She shook her head. I was so gullible. Rick
Timmons used me to get into Miss Starr’s house. No one would have suspected he was
planning a robbery.

Did you date him often? Leif didn’t know why that thought bothered him.

She sat up straighter in her seat as though she were ready for battle. I never dated Rick.
The few times I ran into him I was at a restaurant with a group of friends. We were never
alone together. The night of the reception we were just sharing the cost of a cab.

Why not drive your own car?

Tracy made a face. It’s impossible to find a parking space in Manhattan.

So, do you have a boyfriend in New York? Leif was surprised to hear the question come out
of his mouth. It had nothing to do with the robbery.

She seemed to relax a bit. She looked relieved to drop the subject of Timmons. I dated a
little. Nobody special.

Anybody special in Allerton? he probed.
What’s my problem? I’m supposed to be investigating a crime, not analyzing her love
life.

But the blush returned to her cheeks. He had touched a sore spot. There was someone
special in Allerton—or there had been—and she wasn’t happy about it. Her face revealed too
much.

But she simply answered, No. She didn’t offer any details.

 Leif drove in silence for a moment. He needed to get his line of questioning back on
track. The crime was the jewel theft, not a long-lost lover.

So, you went off to New York to take Broadway by storm. He sensed her hesitation before
she answered.

Not really. I just wanted to see what life was like in the big city.

Was that the real reason she left Allerton?
Something in her voice hinted that there was a lot more to the story.

The newspapers said you were an aspiring actress.

She wrinkled her nose. Reporters like to dramatize everything. I don’t think I’m the
Broadway type. All I want is to finish earning my degree in music. I didn’t even think
about Broadway until I got a job in an agent’s office. Then my roommate started nagging me
to try out for a musical. I sing a little.

Really? The church always welcomes another voice in the choir.

Tears welled up in her eyes. I—I don’t know how long—how long I’ll be here. I
mean—everything is so mixed up right now. I couldn’t... She trailed off into silence.

Because of Jeff? He finished her thought.

I can’t think about anything else. I’m anxious to see him, but I’m afraid—afraid to find
out how badly he’s injured—afraid that he’s scarred for life—afraid that he’s not going to
live through this. She made an attempt to brush away the tears. I’m just sorry I had to
impose on you.

She looked so dispirited, he felt like a schoolyard bully. You’re not imposing on me. I
wanted to check on Jeff myself. We’ve become pretty close friends.

Close friends! Her eyes widened. You and Jeff?

He’s been coming to church with me.

Jeff went to church?

She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he had hit her over the head with his night
stick. She sat there speechless, gazing at him in disbelief. This probably wasn’t the best
time to burden her with more sad details about Jeff’s life. It would only make her feel
worse if she knew what Jeff was doing just twenty-four hours before the accident.

They were in the heart of Boston. It was time to leave the interstate and join the traffic
on the city streets. He glanced across at his passenger as he turned the SUV down the exit
ramp toward the hospital. All the color had drained from Tracy’s face.

****

Tracy fidgeted on the hard bench, clutching her purse to steady her trembling hands. The
nurse in the burn unit said the doctor wanted to talk to her before she visited Jeff. Leif
sat stoically beside her, a mountain of patience. She couldn’t read the thoughts behind
that rugged face, but there was something comforting about his solid presence.

She jumped to her feet when a tall man in a dark business suit approached. He looked more
like a corporate executive than a physician. Miss Dixon? he asked, extending his hand. I’m
Dr. Burrows.

Her heart raced. Jeff? she whispered. How is he? Can I see him?

I have to be honest with you. At this point Mr. Dixon’s prognosis is bleak. His condition
is extremely critical. Now, for the first seventy-two hours, we’re in the resuscitation
phase. So far he’s holding his own, but you need to know that we’re keeping him in a
drug-induced coma. In spite of his professional manner, the doctor had kind eyes and a
gentle voice.

He’s in a coma? The world crashed down around her. Then he can’t talk to me.

Miss Dixon, he suffered second and third degree burns over seventy percent of his body. It
will be several weeks before we can even begin to reduce the sedation. Tomorrow we’ll
start the skin grafts. Mr. Dixon won’t be out of danger until we can close his wounds.
This will be a long, slow process.

But can I see him? Tracy pleaded. None of this would seem real until she saw Jeff with her
own eyes.

Right now the greatest danger is infection. You can observe him through the glass. Even if
you go inside and talk to him, I doubt that he would hear you or even know that you were
there. You should be prepared for his appearance. We’ve infused his body with an
extraordinary amount of fluid to replace the loss through his wounds. You’ll notice a
great deal of swelling.

Tracy still couldn’t bring herself to believe they were having this conversation. Jeff, in
a coma, burned over seventy percent of his body.

But the doctor continued, We’re doing everything possible to ease his suffering. There’s a
ventilator to support his breathing, of course, and a feeding tube in his nose.

Of course, Tracy echoed helplessly.

If you’ll wait here a moment, I’ll have someone escort you to his room.

Am I allowed to go? Leif asked. I’m not family—just a close friend.

The doctor nodded. I’ll call the nurse.

In minutes the nurse signaled them to follow her. Leif limped along behind Tracy,
wondering if she could handle the shock of seeing her brother’s condition. She looked so
pale and wobbly.

He breathed the acrid smell of disinfectant as the nurse led them through the sterile
corridors. She stopped at a glass-walled room. Leif choked back a gasp. In spite of the
doctor’s warning, he wasn’t prepared for the sight of his friend. Jeff’s face was swollen
beyond recognition. The tubes and wires and bandages obscured Leif’s view, but it looked
as though Jeff’s eyebrows had been burned off and his hair was charred. The rest of his
body was draped in white sheets. It was impossible to estimate the extent of the damage.
How on earth could anyone survive that trauma?

Leif studied the screens above and beside Jeff’s bed. They were monitoring his vital
signs—his blood pressure and heart rate. He tried to make sense of the numbers. And then
he realized that Tracy was clutching his arm, clinging to him as though she were drowning.
She seemed to be in a trance, just staring at her brother with a flood of tears rolling
down her cheeks.

Leif hesitated for less than a heartbeat before pulling her into his arms. She sobbed out
her grief on his shoulder.

****

Tracy sank back in her seat in the SUV. A blinding headache pounded nails into her skull.
Even in her worst nightmares she couldn’t imagine anything more frightening than this.

She felt the touch of Leif’s hand on her shoulder, offering comfort. He’s in good hands,
Tracy. They’ll pull him through.

She had to cling to that hope. They drove in silence heading back to Allerton. She was
grateful that Leif didn’t feel the need to indulge in idle chatter. She closed her eyes to
shut out the world. She wasn’t ready to deal with anything but thoughts of Jeff. Against
her closed eyelids she pictured that swollen face and the tangle of tubes and hoses that
were keeping him alive. If the nurse hadn’t led them to his room, she could never have
identified her own brother.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Jeff Dixon had been Allerton’s shining star. Everyone
predicted great things in store for him. He was bright and athletic and handsome. She’d
been heartsick when he dropped out of college to enlist in the army.

And then he came home from Iraq with half his right leg missing. The injuries drained away
all the life and sparkle from his personality. Despite her vows to stay away from
Allerton, she came back from New York to celebrate his return home and to help him get
settled in while the rest of the town presented their hero with the keys to a brand new
car fitted to accommodate his injuries.

He was offered a choice of a dozen different jobs, but he had lost all interest in living.
He spurned the job offers and sought refuge in a bottle. Refusing to wear his prosthesis,
he sat day after day, staring at the television screen without knowing what he was
watching. She prayed fervently that he would shake off his depression, but he seemed
satisfied to function in the role of town drunk.

Leif stunned her this morning when he said her brother had been going to church. She had
phoned Jeff and written long letters from New York, urging him to attend church, but he
ignored her pleas.

Leif walked with a limp. Maybe their disabilities had forged a bond between the two men.

She turned to study Leif’s face. There was such quiet strength in those chiseled features.
Please pray for Jeff, she whispered.

Leif’s face softened. Believe me, I’ve been praying for him constantly.

But Jeff turned his back on God. Do you think He really cares what happens to Jeff?

I believe God never stops caring for his children, no matter what they’ve done. Leif spoke
without hesitation. And Jeff was finding his way back to God again.

His words reassured her, and yet it was so bitterly ironic—just when Jeff was taking his
first steps back, the world exploded in his face.

She smothered a dreary sigh. Now she had to make a decision—go back to New York and look
for work, or stick it out here in Allerton. If she were in the city and Jeff’s condition
changed—for better or for worse—she needed to be here.

But there was the matter of money. She would have to find a job. Allerton was not the hub
of the universe. And if she were lucky enough to find something, it meant a two-mile walk
into town until her car was repaired. The auto insurance didn’t cover a rental. On top of
everything else, she was still responsible for half the rent on her apartment in Brooklyn.
She wouldn’t consider sticking her roommate with paying the whole cost. If she decided to
stay in Allerton, she would have to tell Heather to find another roommate. But what if
Detective Diaz didn’t give her a choice? Maybe he’d force her to return to New York. The
pounding in her head was building to a crescendo.

She opened her eyes, startled as Leif pulled the car to the side of the road. She realized
they had left the interstate and were just a few miles from home. She watched in silence
as he punched the numbers on his cell phone.

Hey, Mark, he said, how about calling Mrs. Davis and see if she can pick you guys up for
baseball practice. I’m running a little late.

He paused. Good boy. Tell Luke to go easy on that ankle. He should wear his high tops.
I’ll be there as soon as I can. He switched off the phone and put the car back into motion.

Tracy kept her eyes focused on the road, but she found herself thinking about Leif,
instead of Jeff. So the chief had children. He was probably a great father. She wondered
if there was a Mrs. Leif—not that it mattered to her. She was tempted to ask, but she had
made herself a solemn promise—no more involvement with the police. She cried all over
Leif’s uniform today, and that was enough.

Guilt nibbled at the fringes of her conscience as she realized he had put aside his own
plans for the day to chauffeur her into Boston. I’ve made you late, she apologized.