Миранда Джеймс - Claws For Concern

“Thank you, Nurse, I will.” I smiled and let her go. I headed down the hall to the waiting area. I noticed as I passed Bill Delaney’s room that the door was partially open. I resisted the urge, however, to look inside. I would follow the nurse’s instructions and not go in for half an hour.

I discovered that I could position one of the chairs at an angle that allowed me to keep an eye on Delaney’s door. I settled in to wait. A check of my watch assured me that I ought to be able to get into the room before Elizabeth Barber would arrive at the hospital. I hoped that a police officer or a deputy would arrive before her. I wasn’t really afraid of her, but I knew that an officer in uniform would be a much better deterrent than I would.

About twenty minutes later, Jack called. “We’re just getting into Athena,” he said. “Looks like she’s heading toward the hospital, as predicted. Probably be there in less than fifteen minutes. How is he?”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” I replied. “I’m in the waiting area down the hall. I’ve been watching his room. No one’s gone in there for the past twenty minutes. There’s no policeman anywhere around that I can see.”

“Maybe one will still turn up by the time we get there,” Jack said. “Elmer Lee surely got in touch with the police there.”

“He may have done,” I said, “but they might not have considered the threat level high enough. Who knows? Text me when you actually get to the hospital. I’m going to slip into his room and hide in the bathroom.”

“Will do.”

I ended the call.

Eleven minutes later I received a text from Jack.

In the parking lot. Entering hospital now .

I texted back simply OK .

I walked down the hall to room 227 and peered inside. Bill Delaney appeared to be asleep. I slipped into the room.

The bathroom was immediately to my right. The bathroom door faced the bed. It was closed. I opened it carefully and positioned myself inside with the door nearly shut. I had a good line of vision to the bed. I was ready for Elizabeth Barber.

THIRTY-FIVE

I had to admit later, when I was relating the story to my family, that I felt rather foolish lurking in the bathroom like one of the Hardy Boys on a stakeout. With no policeman in sight, however, I felt I had to do something to protect Bill Delaney. I could have tried to bar Elizabeth Barber from entering the room, but at the time I didn’t really believe she would be so brazen as to try to harm Delaney again. Not when she knew that Jack and I were planning to give her name to the police as the hit-and-run driver.

I waited, trying not to fidget or make any noise. Delaney seemed to be sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to wake him until it was necessary.

As I surveyed the portion of the room I could see from inside the bathroom, I noticed a large cabinet on the other side of the bed next to the window. It looked large enough for a person to hide inside, depending on whether it contained any shelves and how they were arranged. That might have been a better place to hide, had I noticed it earlier, because it was closer to the bed.

I was almost tempted to leave the bathroom and go investigate the cabinet, but I realized there might not be enough time. Elizabeth Barber could walk into the room at any moment. I couldn’t risk it.

Seconds later I was glad I hadn’t. I heard footsteps, light but obvious. Someone was coming into the room. I tensed as I waited for Elizabeth Barber to come into view.

I almost gave myself away with a gasp of surprise when I saw that the person who had entered was male and in uniform. The police had taken this seriously after all. Then I realized that the officer wasn’t wearing a police uniform. He was a sheriff’s deputy. That meant that Kanesha Berry was aware of the situation and taking action. As I watched, the deputy moved quietly around the end of Bill Delaney’s bed to the closet. He opened the door to the right and slid inside the cavity there. He pulled the door nearly closed.

Thankful that an officer of the law was present, I relaxed slightly. Now we both waited for Elizabeth Barber to appear.

The seconds ticked by. Where was she? I wondered. I would have thought she’d be here by now. Maybe something—or someone—held her up long enough for the deputy to get into place.

Or maybe, I thought, she went to talk to Leann Finch first. Why, I wasn’t certain, but maybe to consult her for some reason.

Another minute passed, and then another. Then, finally, the sound of more footsteps coming into the room.

I recognized the red hair, although Elizabeth Barber had tried to cover most of it with a scarf. The tendrils that had escaped the scarf gave her away. She had a handbag with a long strap over her left shoulder.

I tensed again, watching to see what she would do. She stopped close to the bed, left hand on her bag, the right on the bed rail.

“Bill, can you hear me?” she said in a low voice. “Wake up, I need to talk to you.”

She reached out as if to touch him but hesitated. Her hand rested on the rail again.

“Bill, please wake up, it’s me, Lizzie,” she said, her voice slightly louder, the tone more urgent.

The form on the bed began to stir. The bed had Bill’s torso raised at a slight angle, perhaps ten degrees. I couldn’t see his whole face but I could see when his head moved.

“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” Bill’s voice sounded hoarse. “If they find you here, you’ll give everything away.”

“I had to come, I couldn’t help it,” Elizabeth Barber said. “I’m so sorry, Bill, I don’t know what I was thinking the other day. I guess I just lost my mind for a minute. I didn’t really want to kill you.”

Bill grunted as he shifted in the bed. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I did,” she said. “I mean, I do, but you promised you’d never come back.”

“I had to, Lizzie. Mama was dying, and she wanted to see me before she passed on. I couldn’t deny her that. I owed her that much. You owed her that much.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Elizabeth said, sounding tired. “If it weren’t for her, we would have all been in trouble.”

“Mama hated lying worse than anything,” Bill said. “But she understood why I asked her to. When she found out what happened, I swear she would have killed him all over again if she’d had the chance.”

“He was a monster, he deserved to die,” Elizabeth said, her voice heated. “But I’m not here to talk about him. I wanted to let you know how sorry I am, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course I will,” Bill said. “I may not be around much longer anyway, so it won’t matter. Then you’ll always be safe.”

“No, I won’t, Bill,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve done a lot of soul-searching since I tried to run you down. There were these two men today who confronted me outside the vet clinic. They’re not going to let it go. They’re pretty sure they know what I did. I think it’s time to tell the truth and be done with it.”

“Is that what you really want?” Bill asked.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Would it be okay if I gave you a hug? I remember you used to give the best hugs.”

“I’d like that,” Bill said. He held up his arms.

Elizabeth’s hand slipped inside her bag as she began to lean over the bed. The hand came out with a syringe, her thumb on the plunger. She was ready to plunge the syringe into his neck, but the sheriff’s deputy burst out of the cabinet in time and knocked it out of her hand.

I emerged from the bathroom at the same time and grabbed her before she could run out of the room. She started screaming, kicking, trying to stomp my feet, anything to get away, but the deputy subdued her and got her hands behind her back. Another deputy entered the room and helped cuff her.