Chapter 32
C
am opened her eyes. To her right, sunlight filtered into the room through half-closed blinds. She sniffed a sweet smell, then spied a bowl of blooming narcissus on the windowsill. Next to which sat Pete, engrossed in his phone.
She was in a hospital room. The sheets and blankets were white. The wall across from her was fake wood paneling and the other walls were painted a pale green. A tray on a stand next to the bed held a plastic cup, a pink plastic pitcher, and a matching basin. Her right arm hung in a sling over a blue-print plainly styled nightgown. The memory of the attack flooded over her. Greta, a murderer of her own husband. And of Judith, and almost of Cam, herself.
When she shifted in bed, a sharp pain stabbed her side, making her moan. Pete looked up. He strode around the bed and picked up her left hand.
“Oh, Cam,” he said. His eyes filled and he blinked hard.
“Hey, I'm alive, aren't I?”
He nodded, smiling.
“But my side and my arm hurt like hell.”
“You took a round, but it really only scraped through the top layer of flesh. A slightly different angle and it would have nicked a rib, or worse. Same for your arm. You're going to be fine.”
“Good,” she said slowly. She stared at the blanket on her lap. She had rescued herself. She could still feel the gun poking her in the back. She remembered her desperation to stay out of the deep woods. Greta saying she'd killed Wayne and shot Judith. And . . .
Her stomach roiled. “Oh, no. Give me that.” Cam clapped one hand over her mouth as she pointed at the pink kidney-shaped basin next to the pitcher.
Pete handed it to her. Cam bent over it, despite the pain, and retched up the remnants of her long-ago lunch, her heaves making the injury in her side burn.
Pete stroked her hair off her forehead and murmured, “It's okay. You're going to be all right.” When she was done, he took the basin to the bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth.
She wiped her eyes and mouth, and gazed at him. “I'm sorry. That was gross.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You were tough and brave today, and you overcame a murderer.” He took the washcloth and tossed it into the bathroom, then poured her a little water before taking her hand again.
“Are they giving me pain meds?”
“I imagine so, but we can ask the nurse.”
“Those things never agree with me,” Cam said after she sipped the water, grateful that her stomach now felt settled again. “Any idea why I'm wearing this sling if the shot only nicked my arm?”
“I'd say it's to immobilize it so you don't irritate the wound as it heals. But you can ask the nurse when he comes back in.”
“Sit down, will you? I still have questions.”
Pete obliged, hiking up a hip to perch on the edge of the bed facing her. “Hit me.”
“You got my message about Judith's trash?”
“I did. I tried to call you back but you never picked up. It must have been when you were on with dispatch. Anyway, Judith had called us, too. She found a little wand under her trash barrel. Like a miniature magic wand.”
“I've seen that.” Cam narrowed her eyes. “It was on Greta's key chain. You know what a big Harry Potter buff she was.”
“Yes. And Judith knew it wasn't her daughter's.”
“Right, she'd said her daughter hated Harry Potter,” Cam said.
“Then Judith went and checked her security camera footage. You were right. Greta had stolen Judith's nicotine canisters and planted them near Wayne and on the property. We knew Greta had made Wayne's breakfast. Looks like she poisoned it, too.” He blew out a breath. “Our cyber-crimes guy found something else. Wayne never invited Judith over for breakfast. Greta used his account to send the e-mail, but she sent it from the library's computer when she was logged in as herself.”
“To make it look like Judith could have poisoned his breakfast.”
Pete nodded. “If she'd sent it from their house, we wouldn't have known. I don't know if you've heard that Greta shot Judith?”
“She implied that she killed Judith. Is sheâ”
“Judith will live,” Pete said. “Greta only wounded her, as it turns out, but Judith was smart enough to lie still and make Greta think she'd succeeded with another murder. I was over there when you called. Judith's only mistake was to go to the Laitinens' this morning and confront Greta about the theft.”
“Megan told me about that.” Cam stroked the back of Pete's hand. “You know, I'm glad it wasn't Paul. He's a single dad of three little boys. Can you imagine?”
“People driven to murder are all types. You know that by now.”
“I guess. But I'm glad he wasn't the one. And I never did think Katie could have killed anybody.”
“You were right about that,” Pete agreed.
“Judith, maybe. But it seemed kind of extreme for somebody like her, with all her money.” Cam pushed down with her left hand to shift position. “Ow.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the sudden stab in her side. When she opened them, Pete was looking at her with his own eyes full of pain.
“Hey,” Cam said. “I'm going to be all right. You said so, remember?”
“I know. And you will.” He smiled. “I hate to see you hurting.”
“Now you know how I felt when you got your own arm shot up not that long ago.”
“Fair trade.” He gazed at her. “You know, you were amazing today. Speaking up for the dispatcher even as Greta had you at gunpoint. And then disabling an armed murderer. Where'd you learn that elbow jab?”
She laughed. “Just made it up. I'm taller than Greta, and I'm pretty strong from all the farm work. It was the only tool I had at hand. But I also used to read a lot of female superhero comic books. They're always elbowing somebody or other in the face. Or worse.”
“It was very effective. I think from now on your middle name is Courage.”
“Nah.” She batted down the suggestion with her good hand. “What else was I going to do? I was just glad Ruth and the others showed up when they did.”
“Do I hear my name?” Ruth peeked in around the door. “Permission to enter?”
Cam smiled at her. “Granted.”
Ruth walked in holding a huge bunch of yellow tulips in one hand and a vase in the other. She went around the other side of Pete and bent down to give Cam a kiss on the cheek. Pete glanced at her.
“No, you don't get one, too, Detective.” Ruth lifted her eyebrows but her eyes were smiling. She wore black jeans with a red sweater instead of her uniform.
He laughed. “That actually wasn't my primary concern, Officer Dodge.”
Ruth focused on Cam. “I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner. Based on what you very intelligently let the dispatcher hear, we had to detour around to the road behind your neighbor's place and come in through there so Greta wouldn't see our vehicle. We knew we couldn't charge in from the direction of the barn or you might have been dead before we got there. Luckily the neighbor has an access way to the other road or it would have taken us a lot longer.”
“It all worked out,” Cam said. “Thanks for the flowers.”
“Thought they might brighten things up.”
Cam fell silent for a moment, her gaze on the foot of the bed. She couldn't shake the images of the past week that circled in her brain. The bracelet and the bone from that poor Irish girl in her compost. Greta pretending to grieve when all along she was the one who had killed Wayne. Paul talking about the accident.
“Earth to Cam?” Pete said.
“I was thinking about Paul. Have you talked with him? Was he really blackmailing Wayne all this time?”
“He confessed that he was. He's going to be charged,” Pete said. “He could have blackmailed Catriona, too. Or she him, but that never happened. He targeted straight arrow Wayne.”
“And he's going to owe Megan and her brother a lot of money,” Ruth added.
“Poor Megan. Now she's lost both parents.” Cam turned her mouth down. “At least she has those nice monks at the monastery to comfort her.”
The phone on the bedside table rang and Pete picked it up. “Cam Flaherty's room.” He listened, smiling, then handed it to Cam, extending the receiver attached to the base by a curly cord. “For you.”
“Hello?” she said.
“Cammie, I heard you're going to get the medal of honor or something. Listen, my dear, I am so proud of you, and grateful you put away that killer.”
“Aw, Uncle Albert. Thank you for calling. I really had no choice.”
“Well, next time try to avoid the situation in the first place, would you? My heart doesn't need any more excitement.”
“I promise.”
“I love you, honey.”
Cam tried to say, “I love you, too,” but choked up on the last word. She handed the receiver back to Pete and gazed from him to Ruth and back. “How'd I get so lucky? To have both of you, and Albert, too?”
Pete stroked her hand. “We're the lucky ones.”
Ruth cleared her throat and headed into the bathroom, emerging with the vase full of water.
“It's pretty much your own doing, Cam,” Ruth said, arranging the flowers. She looked at Cam. “You may be a geek, but you're pretty good company. Right, Detective?”
“She is, at that. A bit too interested in investigations, though.” He softened the comment with a smile. “We might have to hire her on as a consultant.”
“As if.” Cam snorted quietly. “So do I assume you still have your job?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. We'll be lucky if Judith doesn't sue our asses off for false accusations. But if she does, it'll be Ivan's head that will roll, not mine.”
Cam cocked her head at the sound of a different ring tone. “That's my cell. But where is it?”
Pete opened the drawer in the bedside table and drew out Cam's cell phone, handing it to her. Holding it in her slinged hand, she didn't recognize the number but connected, anyway, and then managed to shift the phone to her free hand.
“Hello?”
“Cameron, honey.”
“Dad?” Her eyes widened. She never heard from her parents. Like, ever.
“The one and only. Hey, thought we'd come for a visit. After the semester's out, middle of May or so? Wanted to check out that farm of yours, see Albert, et cetera.”
“Um, all right.” Her father was the only person she'd ever met who actually said, “et cetera,” as if he were reading an academic paper.
“You sound great, honey. Okay, Mom sends love. Talk to you closer to the time. Bye, now.”
The call disconnected. Cam swallowed.
“Your father?” Pete asked.
She nodded slowly. “They're coming to visit in May. And he didn't even ask how I was.” She rolled her eyes. “Some things never change.”