Leann Sweeney - The Cat, the Lady and the Liar

When she answered, she said, “I was just about to call you. I’m on my way to the hospital. They found Candace lying unconscious in our apartment parking lot.”

“Tom told me. Do you know how badly she’s hurt?” My mouth was so dry it was difficult to get the words out. My three friends, realizing I was upset, gathered close. Merlot sat next to me, ears pricked, Syrah was at my feet staring up at me and Chablis had jumped into my lap.

“I don’t know anything about Candace’s condition,” Kara said. “By the time I got out to the parking lot, the ambulance had already left. The deputies weren’t about to tell the newspaper snoop anything about one of their own—even when I said I was off the record and asking as a friend.”

“You didn’t hear anything that went on outside beforehand?” I said.

“I was in the shower, and when I got out, the police scanner was squawking about an ambulance needing a police escort. I got dressed, saw all the flashing lights through my window, and you know the rest.”

“Tom’s picking me up. I was hoping you could stay here with Ritaestelle, but of course Candace is your friend, too. What should I do?”

“Arm the security system and tell the woman to stay put. She is an adult, Jillian.”

“But—”

“Do you believe Ritaestelle is next on this hit man’s list?” Kara said.

“Maybe. I’m too upset to think straight.” Syrah meowed and pawed at my knee. Tears stung my eyes, but I fought them back.

“This whole nasty business is swirling around Ritaestelle. Makes sense she might need protection after what’s just happened. But any Mercy cop who’s free will be at the hospital,” she said. “Maybe Chief Shelton can whip on over and guard your house.”

“That could take a good thirty minutes. Tom will be here any minute to pick me up, and I don’t feel right leaving her alone, but—”

“Leave,” came a voice from the foyer. Ritaestelle was standing there in her robe, Isis in her arms. “Obviously you need to be somewhere right now.”

Kara said, “I heard what she said. Listen to her. Meanwhile, I’m pulling into the hospital lot. Bye.” She disconnected.

I looked at Ritaestelle. “Candace has been attacked. Hit over the head. She’s in the hospital and—”

“You need to be at your friend’s side. I promise you I will be fine. I will not open any doors or peer out any windows if I should hear anything outside,” she said.

I hesitated, but I had to be with Candace. “Let me show you how to set the alarm. Engage it right after I leave, okay?”

“Thank you. Perhaps you could write down your cellular phone number for me?” She stroked Isis and smiled sadly. “Terrible things have happened, and I feel responsible. I should have never come here.”

“Don’t say that.” I lifted Chablis off my lap, set her on the floor and stood. “Tom and I and every person on the police force will work as hard as we can to find the truth. If you hadn’t come here, you might be dead now.”

“I might indeed. But I would gladly exchange my life for Evie’s or for your friend’s at this juncture.”

“This is not your fault.” I gestured toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let me show you how to engage the system.”

After I was sure she knew what she was doing, I told her that I would be checking my cat cameras often, so she would have another level of security.

Before I left with Tom, she said, “Please call me when you have news about Deputy Carson to share. I will be praying for her.”

When a police officer goes down, the response from the community, fellow officers, fire and rescue teams, paramedics, local politicians and of course the media is almost overwhelming. So many people were at the hospital awaiting word on Candace’s condition that all her visitors were directed to the outpatient surgery waiting room—even Nancy Shelton. Good choice for a gathering place since no one was having elective surgery this late at night.

Tom and I headed straight for Mike Baca. He was pacing behind a vinyl sofa at the far end of the room.

“Tell me she’ll be okay.” I said when we reached him.

Mike’s face was drained of color. “She’s been taken from the emergency room to ICU. There was a lot of blood and she was unconscious the entire ride in the ambulance.”

“Blow to the head, we heard,” Tom said.

“Back of the skull, so she might not have even seen her attacker.” Mike focused on the floor and shook his head. “I should have handled this case myself.”

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Chief,” came a voice behind us. It was Morris. His red-rimmed eyes betrayed how upset he was. “We’re gonna find this coward and take him down—take him down hard .”

Seeing how emotional these two strong men were brought out a part of me I usually reserved for my cats. They needed a few comforting words. “Candace is tough. She’ll be good as new. I feel it.” But I didn’t truly feel it. All I felt was sick and scared and anxious.

Tom ran a hand through his hair, and though he’d been calm and reassuring in the car, he wasn’t that way now. “Are there any leads? Like, how many of those bozos that live with Ritaestelle have an alibi?” He held up a hand before Mike could say anything. “Stupid question. You couldn’t have gotten that information yet.”

“I have a deputy canvassing Candy’s apartment complex,” Mike said, “but from the reports I’ve been getting so far, no one saw or heard anything. Her gun was still in her holster and her car was where she’d parked it. Nothing amiss.”

I cringed hearing him call her Candy. She would hate that.

“This wasn’t a random mugging if nothing was taken,” Tom said. “My bet is someone got nervous after Candace interviewed them and decided to take action.”

“She reinterviewed Ritaestelle this afternoon,” I said. “Candace planned to give Kara a story hinting that Ritaestelle might no longer be the main suspect in Evie’s death. She hoped to draw some other suspect out of the woodwork. Could that be why she was attacked?”

“That fits,” Mike said. “Candy has been researching something called a forensic interview. She says that interviewing while paying attention to demeanor is almost as good as tangible evidence. That’s why she came to reinterview Ritaestelle. What she saw, as well as what she heard, probably made her doubt Ritaestelle’s guilt. Getting out the word that Ritaestelle wasn’t the only suspect would be important.”

“Did Candace talk to Kara to get these ‘hints’ out to the public after she left your house?” Tom asked me.

I glanced around the room looking for her. “I don’t know, but when I called Kara, she said she’d be here at the hospital.”

I caught Shelton’s eye then, and she made her way over to us. Meanwhile, I was reminded by this crowded room, these many people with concerned faces, that I knew nothing about Candace’s condition. That bothered the heck out of me. Was her mother with her? Was she awake? Was her injury so serious that she might die? No, I couldn’t think about that.

Shelton said, “Do you know anything?”

“No one’s given any of us a report,” Mike said. “I can only hope they’re too busy helping Candy so they don’t have time for us.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” I said. Good enough that I felt like the tension that had grabbed hold of every muscle in my body seemed to ease a bit.

“She was your friend. This must be hard on you,” Shelton said.

“She is my friend,” I said.

Tom, Mike and Morris wandered in the direction of the vending machines, still talking about evidence and neighborhood canvasses and possible weapons. I felt even more relieved when they left. This wasn’t procedural for me; it was gut-wrenching, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears.