The Widows of Braxton County (16 page)

Chapter 26

Fall 2012, Braxton County Hospital

T
he sound of voices pulled Kate out of a deep sleep. Her first emotion was one of relief. A nightmare—it was only a nightmare.

Bits and pieces of it glided through her head . . . a storm, a rain-slick highway, the thump of the windshield wipers as they fought against a torrential downpour. She remembered the urgency she felt. In the dream, she had to reach her destination, but now what that had been, eluded her.

Her mouth felt dry and her tongue thick. She wanted a glass of water, but didn’t have the strength to open her eyes let alone get out of bed to fetch one.

Words spoken as if in a tunnel began to penetrate her brain.

“. . . and her reaction was off,” one voice said.

“The doctor blamed it on shock,” another voice replied.

“The sooner we question her, the better.”

“I know, but you can’t right now. The doctors want her to wake up from the sedative on her own.” Kate heard the speaker exhale slowly.

“Where’s the mother?”

“At the farm. She refused to have anyone drive her home, but a friend was coming to stay with her.”

“The team’s there, too, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t expect they’ll find much after that heavy rain. Damn it,” the voice exclaimed. “We need to talk to her.”

“As soon as she wakes up, we will.”

A memory niggled at the corners of Kate’s brain, trying to eat its way into her consciousness. The voice that had just spoken sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it.

“When will we get the autopsy results back?” the first voice continued.

“Soon, but based on the initial examination, the emergency room doc is convinced his death was caused by internal bleeding.”

His poor family, Kate thought dimly. Wait, what were two men doing having a conversation outside her bedroom at Rose’s? Was the TV on in Rose’s room? She brushed her face with her hand and felt something cool touch her skin. She struggled to open her eyes, then jerked to a sitting position.

A clear bag of liquid was strung from an IV pole to the bed and a thin plastic tube ran from the bag into her right arm. Kate stared in terror at the liquid drip . . . dripping into the tube.

Reality crashed in, chasing away the fogginess from her mind. It wasn’t a nightmare.

“No . . . no,” she gasped. Grief clawed its way into her mind and heart.

“God, no,” she cried.

“Nurse,” one of the voices called out, “I think she’s awake.”

The door swung open and a nurse, along with two men, entered the room. The men were Sheriff Tom Shaw and the other man who’d been with him last night. Kate’s head began to pound. What was the other man’s name?

Both men hung back as the nurse checked Kate’s vitals. When she had finished, she patted Kate’s arm. “Everything looks fine. We’ll be back later to take out the IV, then you should be able to go home.”

After the nurse left, the men approached her bed.

“Joe’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked bleakly as the tears ran down her face.

The sheriff nodded. “Do you remember Detective Shepherd?” he asked, handing Kate a tissue from a box on the nightstand.

“Yes,” she answered in a thick voice.

Sheriff Shaw noticed a glass of water and handed it to her.

Kate took a sip. “How long have I been here?”

“Since last night. Dr. Adams said that you were in shock, and he wanted to keep you overnight for observation. Mrs. Clement and Will Krause were here for part of the night, but Will took Mrs. Clement home so she could rest. They’ll be back later when you’re released.” He exchanged a look with Detective Shepherd, then with a nod, moved to the window.

Detective Shepherd pulled a chair over to the bed. “I need you to answer a few questions. Are you feeling up to it?”

She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, then nodded.

“When was the last time you spoke with Joe?” Detective Shepherd asked.

“Yesterday morning,” she replied, clearing her throat.

“Did you call him?”

“No, he called me.”

“Why?”

Kate took another drink of water, stalling in order to gather her thoughts. Somehow telling these strangers about their marital problems seemed disloyal to Joe. He couldn’t tell his side of the story.

“Kate,” Detective Shepherd said quietly, “we know you were separated.”

She had a dim memory of someone mentioning it last night, but did they know the reason why she had left Joe? Joe’s reputation was all he’d left behind, and she wanted to protect it.

“We were separated, but were working on mending our marriage. Joe wanted to talk to me in person.”

“You agreed?”

“Yes. I debated—”
No, that will open a line of questions that I don’t want to answer. Better keep my responses short.
“Yes.”

Detective Shepherd flipped opened a notebook and quickly scanned it. “You’re staying with Rose Clement?”

“Yes.”

“What time did you leave Rose’s?”

Kate rubbed her forehead. “About eleven thirty.”

“What time did you arrive at the farm?”

“I didn’t go straight to the farm. I’m a receptionist for Doc Adams, and I stopped by the office to finish some last-minute billings.”

Detective Shepherd scribbled on his notepad. “Is it normal for you to go in on a Saturday?”

“No, but I hadn’t finished the statements and wanted to get them done.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No, the office was closed.” Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“No reason. We’re just trying to establish exactly what happened yesterday. How long were you at Doc’s office?”

“I left at twelve forty-six.”

Detective Shepherd cocked his head. “Not twelve forty-five or twelve fifty?”

“No, I glanced at the clock on my way out the door.”

He made another note on his pad. “What did you do next?”

“I drove out to the farm.”

“Did you see anyone on your way out there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you notice any other vehicles on the road on your way to the farm?”

“No.”

“What time did you arrive?”

“A little after one.”

“Were any other vehicles parked in the driveway?”

“I parked out by Joe’s office, so I don’t know.”

“Why did you park there instead of in the main driveway, then walk over from the house?”

“I didn’t—” She stopped herself again.
Another thing that they don’t need to know—my conflict with Trudy.
“I—ah—well—there was a storm moving in,” she said quickly as she picked at the wadded-up tissue in her palm, “and I didn’t want to get caught in the rain.”

“I see,” Detective Shepherd said in a neutral voice as he wrote again on his pad. “What happened next?”

“I went inside Joe’s office.”

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

She thought about the notice of the lawsuit lying on Joe’s desk. “Not really,” she hedged. “The lights were on and so was his computer. His cell phone was on his desk. I assumed he’d be coming right back.”

“But you didn’t go looking for him?”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“How long did you wait?”

Kate rubbed her temples, trying to ease the throbbing of her skull. “I don’t know . . . I found the kitten—” She drew a sharp breath. “
The
kitten!
. . . It’s out—”

Detective Shepherd held up a hand. “You mentioned the cat last night,” he said brusquely. “Mrs. Clement took it home with her when she left.”

Kate teared up again. “Joe was giving me the kitten as a present . . . he killed the other one . . .” she began to babble, wiping her eyes with the shredded tissue.

“The cat’s okay,” Detective Shepherd said, his tone short. “Back to your actions yesterday—”

“I already told you. I waited for Joe and played with the cat,” she cut in, tired of answering all the questions. Why couldn’t they leave her alone and let her grieve?

She exhaled slowly, then continued. “After Rose called and said Joe was in the hospital, I drove here. You know the rest.”

“Did your husband have any enemies?”

Kate frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Was there anyone he felt had a reason to harm him?”

She shook her head in confusion.

Detective Shepherd shut his notebook and stood. “Mrs. Krause,” he said, looking down at her. “You haven’t asked how your husband died.”

He was right. She hadn’t. It was all such a shock, she couldn’t think straight. God, she wished they’d go away.

“I assumed it was a farm accident,” she said halfheartedly.

“Your husband died as a result of a knife wound in his back. Someone stabbed him.”

When Rose arrived to drive Kate and her Jeep back to the farm that afternoon, she appeared to have aged over the past twenty-four hours. Her skin had a gray pallor to it and her eyes had lost some of their sparkle.

“Are you okay?” Kate asked once Rose had settled her into the car and they were on their way back to her farm.

“Joe’s death has shocked everyone, but don’t worry about us. You’re the one who’s lost her husband. What did the sheriff say?”

“I didn’t talk much to Tom. A Detective Shepherd asked most of the questions.”

“Did they say what happened?”

Kate drew a shaky hand across her forehead. “Trudy wasn’t very coherent, but from what they can piece together, Joe came stumbling into the house, wounded, and Trudy rushed him to the hospital.” Her breath hitched. “He died before they got there.”

“They don’t know where it happened?”

“No, he was somewhere on the farm.”

“And he didn’t say anything to Trudy about who’d hurt him?”

“If he did, Detective Shepherd didn’t share it with me.”

“Kate, I’m so sorry. What an
awful
thing,” Rose exclaimed.

“I should go out to the farm and check on Trudy. Joe would want that,” Kate said, staring out the window.

“Don’t think about Trudy now. Right now you’re worn out. You can visit her tomorrow,” Rose replied in a tone that brooked no opposition. “And she’s not alone. Agnes Forsyth is staying with her.”

Kate faced Rose. “What do I do now?” she asked, her voice despondent.

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Rose replied, her brow crinkling. “It’s never easy losing a loved one, but to lose Joe like this . . .” Her voice trailed away and she shook her head. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”

Kate traced a line on her jeans. “That’s just it—I don’t feel anything right now. I’m numb. I suppose I’ll need to think about the funeral.”

“Not today, you don’t,” Rose said sternly. “Today you rest. You can start making arrangements once we know when the body will be released.”

He’d gone from being Joe to being “the body.” Gut-wrenching sorrow pushed the numbness aside, and Kate’s eyes welled with tears. How did she have enough moisture still left in her body to cry?

Rose lightly touched her leg. “Life hasn’t been very kind to you since you came to Braxton County, has it?”

She dashed away the tears. “I feel like I’m at the bottom of a big black hole and it keeps getting deeper,” she said in a dismal voice. “Who hated Joe enough to kill him?”

Rose let out a long breath. “That’s for the sheriff to find out.” Her mouth twisted in a frown. “But it’s a question a lot of people are asking. The snoops came out in droves this morning. I got so many calls this morning that I finally shut my phone off.”

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she huffed. “They ought to know enough to mind their own business at a time like this.”

“But—” Her cell phone rang, cutting her off. She answered without glancing at the screen. “Hello.”

“Didn’t I tell you that no good would come of this?” her grandmother’s voice sounded in Kate’s ear. “Now your husband’s been murdered. Murdered,” she exclaimed, continuing her tirade. “We’ve
never
had anything like this happen in our family. It’s all over the news. Why, I can hardly step outside my own door without someone asking me about it, and what do I tell them? You never even thought to call me.”

Cold replaced the sorrow in Kate’s heart. Such cold, she began to shiver.

“As soon as this is all over,” she huffed, “you’re moving home. You can live with me.”

Kate thought of her sessions with Dr. Mike and the shivering suddenly stopped. She took a deep breath.

“Thanks for asking about me, Gran,” she said, her voice hard, “your concern is positively underwhelming.”

“There’s no need to get spiteful with me, young lady. I—”

Kate broke in. “Believe it or not, this is one time it isn’t about you, and if you can’t see that, I don’t want to continue this conversation.” She went to push End, but her grandmother’s voice stopped her.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” Her tone had changed from forceful to whimpering in a flash. “It’s such a shock, and for a person my age . . . of course I was going to ask about you. I’ve been so worried.”

Yeah right, Kate thought, but kept silent

“You poor thing,” her grandmother continued. “You need your grandmother.”

“No—w-wait,” Kate stammered.

“I’ve already made the arrangements. You’ll need to reimburse her for the gas, but Mrs. Cutter is driving me out there tomorrow.”