Beverly Connor - Dead Secret

“Take it easy, buddy; we have help coming,” said Korey.

Diane stood up. Andie and Kendel knelt beside Mike, covering him with his coat. Diane headed for the chief of detectives, stopping first next to Vanessa’s son when she saw little Alexis standing with her parents, looking scared. Vanessa’s son looked at her hand and gave her a handkerchief to wipe off the blood. Her hand shook as she took it. Who would do this-and why? The fear that settled in the pit of her stomach made her nauseated. Dammit, get yourself under control.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

“He was stabbed.”

Vanessa sucked in her breath.

“Take Alexis and your family home,” continued Diane. “Don’t talk about this with one another. The police will want to ask you individually what you remember. But for now, get your family home.”

He nodded and began to collect his family.

Diane took a deep breath and tried to find the objectivity she had at any other crime scene. She took her cell from her pocket and dialed her crime scene lab as she scanned the crowd and the cemetery. David Goldstein, one of her crime scene specialists, answered, and Diane briefly explained what had happened.

“What? At the cemetery?” said David.

“I want you and Jin to come and take a look around. There’ve been a lot of people here, so I doubt you’ll find anything right around where Mike was standing, but look behind the trees and large monuments in the area. Someone may have been standing, waiting for an opportunity.”

“How is Mike?”

“I don’t know. He’s conscious.”

“What about Neva?”

“She’s not at the funeral. I think she’s at home. Would you call her?”

“Sure. You all right?”

“I’m trying to hold on. Come as quickly as you can.” Diane folded her phone and slipped it into the pocket of her jacket.

Douglas Garnett, the Rosewood chief of detectives, was asking all the people to go sit in their cars until someone could come talk to them. But news of what had happened was running through the crowd like an electric current, and people were already hurrying to leave. Andie and Kendel were making sure the exiting crowd gave Mike a wide berth.

“What can we do to help?” Diane heard Steve Taggart ask Garnett.

“Take your family to your car and wait for the police. Encourage others to do the same. Someone will come and interview you just as soon as we can get them there.” Garnett was looking out over the crowd of people leaving.

“Most of their names will be in the guest book,” said Diane. “But I doubt our perp signed it.”

“What kind of nut comes to a funeral and stabs someone?” said Garnett. “Does this guy-Mike-have enemies?”

“Not that I know of. It seems like only a nut would take a chance like this.”

“Just when I thought perps couldn’t surprise me anymore. .” He shook his head. “I called the squad. Police and detectives will be on their way. What about an ambulance?” asked Garnett.

“One of my staff called nine-one-one. I’m going to ride with Mike to the hospital, if they let me. I want my crime scene people to come down here and look around. I thought Neva might want to meet us at the hospital. She and Mike are dating.” Garnett nodded. Diane let out a deep breath. “I also told the Van Ross family to go home. I’m sorry. I was thinking of the kids. I did instruct them not to talk among themselves.”

“Just as well. I think most of our people are going to go home anyway. The mayor and the governor’s man already left.” He paused, then asked, “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

“No. I’ve been scanning the crowd.” Diane shrugged in frustration. “There are just so many people I don’t know.”

At the sound of the ambulance she left Garnett to attend to the policing and she hurried back to Mike, who was trying to get up off the ground. Korey was still applying pressure to the wound, and Andie had a hand on Mike’s shoulder, trying to keep him still. Kendel went to wait for the ambulance so she could lead the paramedics to Mike.

“I’m feeling better,” Mike said.

“The ambulance is here,” said Diane. “Stay where you are.”

The ambulance parked on the grass shoulder of the roadway, and two paramedics hurried with their equipment to where Mike lay, shooing everyone out of the way. Korey stood back, blood dripping from his hand. Chief Garnett came forward and offered him his handkerchief.

The female paramedic, a black woman who wore her hair in waves tight against her head like a twenties blues singer, took Mike’s blood pressure and nodded to the male who began hooking him up to a drip.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Someone stabbed him,” Diane told her.

“At a funeral?”

“We don’t know who or why,” said Diane.

“What’s the world coming to?” She looked in Mike’s eyes with a light. “Can you talk to me, baby?”

“Sure, what would you like to talk about?” His voice was husky, and words trailed off at the end.

She smiled at him. “Do you have any allergies?”

“No.”

“What’s your name?”

“Mike Seger.”

“Okay, Mike Seger, we’re going to take you to the hospital and you’re going to be just fine.”

As they loaded him onto the stretcher, Diane gave instructions to Korey and the others to go back to the museum after they talked to the police.

“May I ride with him to the hospital?” asked Diane.

“And you are?” asked the woman.

“Yes, she can,” whispered Mike, reaching out his hand, which Diane grasped.

“My name is Diane Fallon,” she said as she walked down to the ambulance with them.

“Oh, the museum crime scene lady,” said the male paramedic, a blond-haired, blue-eyed guy who looked too young for the job, but Diane noticed that he was efficient and sure in everything he did. “Sure you can ride.”

Diane was surprised and grateful as she climbed in the back that he recognized her. She tried to stay out of the way as much as she could in the tiny space.

“He’s looking good,” the woman told her.

She must see how terrified I am, Diane thought. She hoped Mike hadn’t noticed. She reached out and stroked his hair. “Good thing you stay in such great shape.”

It took under ten minutes to get to the hospital. They carried Mike in, and Diane went to the waiting room.

The room had a shabby look to it, no doubt from years of use by thousands of people. The vinyl chairs were brightly colored either red, blue, green or orange. A large blond-wood coffee table with a pile of magazines sat in the center. She rifled through the magazines on the table, looking for something that might hold her interest long enough to pass the time. She picked up the same magazine twice and put it down. Her head was starting to hurt right in the middle of her forehead. Finally she went outside and called Frank on her cell.

“Hey, babe. I was just trying to get in touch with you. My partner’s meeting with a Rosewood detective today. He called me and said someone was stabbed at a funeral. Was it the one you went to?”

“Yes. It was Mike.”

“My God. Your caving partner Mike? How is he?”

“I don’t know. The doctor hasn’t come out yet. Frank, what kind of maniac stabs someone at a funeral, of all places?”

“I don’t know. I’ll come over when I get home. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. All that adrenaline’s keeping me going, but I think it’s about to wear off. I’m getting a terrible headache.”

“Try not to worry. Mike’s a strong guy. Let me know when you find out something.”

“I will. I think I see Neva’s car pulling into the parking lot. I’ll talk with you later.”