Hannah Alexander - A Killing Frost

She flipped open the cell. “Yes?”

“Dr. Keith, have you seen Debra Benedict?”

“Of course. That’s the patient I was telling you about. I’m with-”

“If she’s with you, please don’t let on that I’ve called. We believe she was one of the kidnappers.”

Jama closed her eyes.

“I was told that the female of the team may have sustained some injuries around her face and abdomen from the hostile male. Can this be the same person?”

For a moment, Jama couldn’t breathe. She shot a glance at Debra, who was watching her closely.

The atmosphere in the clinic changed as Debra’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Jama said.

Debra shook her head and backed from the treatment room, stumbled at the door, turned and walked back down the hallway. Jama followed her, rushed to the door and locked it to keep anyone else from entering, and stood in front of it to keep Debra from leaving-not because she thought Debra was a danger to others, but she was in no condition to try to run.

Debra didn’t try. She stood in the middle of the waiting room with her arms crossed over her stomach, shoulders stooped. Her face crumpled.

Jama could not believe it. Not Debra, who’d had such a soft heart, who’d rescued baby birds and baby rabbits, then cried when she couldn’t keep them alive.

“We’ll be there shortly,” Sydloski said.

“Okay, then,” Jama said into the phone.

Agent Sydloski was right.

“Jama?” Debra whispered.

Jama reached for her. “You need to be calm and sit down. We have no idea how much injury you’ve sustained, and we can’t take any chances.”

“They’re coming to get me, aren’t they?”

Jama felt such a weight of sadness. “Oh, Debra. How did this happen? Tell me what you’ve done.”

“I didn’t do what they think I did.” She closed her eyes and swayed.

Jama noted that though Debra was crying, there were no tears. Dehydration.

“Help me, Jama. Please don’t let them…” She leaned into Jama.

Jama tightened her hold around Debra’s shoulders and eased her to a cushioned chair. “Tell me what’s happening. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

There was a movement in the hallway, and Jama looked up to find Ruth walking toward them, wearing a fresh set of scrubs and a white lab coat.

Debra sucked in a breath at the sight of her.

“It’s okay,” Jama said. “She’s my boss. She’s a doctor, too.”

There was a knock, and Debra jerked around to see who it was. She relaxed visibly when Chelsea Franklin stepped into view through the window.

Ruth joined Chelsea on the front porch, closing the door behind her, and leaving Jama and Debra alone.

“Now,” Jama said. “Talk fast, because I need to get some fluids into you.”

“The police don’t understand, and they won’t listen to me.”

“I will.”

“It was crazy. I heard over the grapevine…” Debra looked at Jama. “You know, the drug grapevine.”

Jama nodded. She could guess.

“I heard there was a dealer in town who wanted revenge on a Dr. Streeter. That’s all I heard. I didn’t know the guy was a murderer, I just wanted to get more info. If it was Mark or Heather, I wanted to warn them.”

“The police could have done that.”

Debra gave a humorless snort of laughter. “I’ve been busted-the police don’t ever believe druggies. I made an anonymous call, but it must’ve been ignored. Doriann wouldn’t have been out on that street if anyone had paid any attention to me.”

“How did you hook up with Clancy?” Jama asked.

“I made like a buyer and purchased a hit from him, then played around with him for a while, you know. Like I thought he was hot. Got high with him, got him to talking, convinced him I knew how to cook the stuff he sells.”

“Do you?”

“No, but it wasn’t as if I was marrying the guy, I just had to convince him to hang out with me long enough for me to find out about his plans for Mark.” She paused, sighed. “I still love that guy, after all these years.” She winced and leaned over. “It hurts.”

“Let’s get you back to the treatment room.” Jama tried to get her up.

Debra pulled away. “Not right now. I’ll throw up.”

“That’s exactly why-”

“I’ve got to tell you, Jama. Listen to me! I found out Clancy had a wicked-hot temper when he punched a hole in the wall where he was staying with some other guys. He needed some wheels, told me to come along, so I went. I was with him when he stole the truck.”

Jama grasped Debra’s wrist and took her pulse. Not good. It was slow. This didn’t fit with dehydration or meth use. “He’s the one who did this to you.”

Debra nodded. “He wanted to case Streeter’s place. We saw Mark and Heather each leave separately. I don’t know why Clancy thought they were rich. They live in an apartment, nothing fancy. I thought Clancy was just going to check out their apartment, and I was going to try to call the police while he was inside. But then Doriann came out alone and started walking down the sidewalk. Clancy followed her in the truck.”

“How far?”

“Only a couple of blocks. It was early, so no one else was around. I learned then that Clancy did just the opposite of what I told him to do. When he said he could grab the kid and make Streeter pay, I told him not to do that, because the cops would be all over him.

“Before I could stop him, he jumped out, grabbed Doriann and hauled her into the truck, with me screaming at him, and the poor kid screaming for help. Then he lost it and said if I didn’t shut Doriann up, he’d kill her right there. I slapped her until she got quiet.” Debra shook her head. “That kid’s a tough one.”

Jama winced at what Doriann had endured.

“I know I wasn’t using good sense,” Debra said. “I was still high, trying hard to maintain. Clancy drove east on I-70, and Doriann started mouthing off, and I slapped her face again. Not hard enough to make a mark, but enough to sting so she’d shut up and stay alive.

“Since I’d learned that he…that the man…” She frowned, shook her head in confusion. “Since I learned that Clancy did what I told him not to, I told him we were low on gasoline, even though I knew there could be another full tank. It had dual tanks, but he’s a city boy. He doesn’t know anything about farm trucks. I told him not to stop on the interstate or we’d be caught for sure. So he stopped on Interstate. I called the police from there when he was in the bathroom. I’d hoped to be able to get help there and get away, but he caught me just talking to the attendant and flew into a rage. I’m telling you, that guy was on something more than speed. I knew I couldn’t grab Doriann and run with her. Nobody’d stop for me, and he’d hurt us both. Even so, he suspected I’d done something, and socked me in the belly.”

“How many times did he do that?”

“Twice. He’s a strong man.”

“I know. I took him on last night. You couldn’t have explained the situation to the police when you called?”

“Not with that scanner in the truck. That was how I found out he was on the FBI Most Wanted list. Man! I was scared too many details would be given out about my call. I grabbed the steering wheel as soon as we heard the scanner report. I wanted to distract him. I got us off the interstate and headed toward River Dance. I figured I might be able to find somebody who knew me and would believe me.”

Jama reached up and gently touched a bruise. “Where’d you get this?”

Debra raised her hand to her face and rubbed the spot. “We hit a swamp, and Doriann escaped. We followed, and I kept trying to stall. I spotted her trying to hide behind some bushes, and I started an argument to distract him. He slugged me.”