J. Jance - Cruel Intent

Ali closed her eyes. She thought about lying helpless on the bathroom floor while her captor temporarily disappeared from view. She remembered that when she’d come back into the bedroom, Leland’s body had apparently been moved.

“The man who was just here,” Ali said. “The one they just took away in the cop car-”

“The one who was hit by a Taser?” the doctor asked. “What about him?”

“He was dressed when they brought him here. What happened to his clothes?”

“I believe the police officers who were with him took charge of all his personal property, clothing included. Why?”

“Have them check his pockets,” Ali suggested.

Dr. Langston looked at Ali for a moment, then nodded. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do that. And I should probably take a look at your face, Ms. Reynolds. Apparently you got hit pretty hard. In the meantime, if you’d like to go wait in Mr. Brooks’s room…”

The whole time they had been in the hospital lobby, Athena had been on the phone. “The Majestic Mountain Inn has two rooms,” she reported now. “And they take pets. Do you want me to book them?”

Ali nodded. Automatically, she reached for her purse and her credit card, but she didn’t have those, either.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Chris said. “I’ll put the rooms on my card.”

Leaving Chris and Athena to make the room reservation, Ali followed Dr. Langston through the swinging doors and into the interior of the building. “He’s in there,” Dr. Langston said, motioning Ali toward a room two doors down the hall.

Entering Leland’s room, she was more than a little gratified to have been given such unlimited access. He lay on his back with his hands folded peacefully across his chest. He was sleeping soundly and snoring with window-rattling volume. The thought that such a small man could make so much noise would have been humorous under any other circumstances. Today it wasn’t funny.

Ali studied his sleeping face. His lips were cut and swollen. One eye was black, and the rest of his face was mottled with bruises and abrasions. One arm was in a sling, and both hands showed signs of having been in a serious physical altercation. Neither he nor Ali had won, but they had gone down swinging.

There was a single chair near the head of the bed. Ali slipped gratefully onto that and settled in to wait. The doctor reappeared within a matter of minutes. “You’re right,” he said. “They found two empty syringes of Versed in his pockets. Where the hell did he get those?”

“I think Winter is a doctor,” Ali said. “That’s what I was told.”

“A doctor!” Dr. Langston repeated, shaking his head. “In that case, it’ll take time for the medication to wear off. Fortunately for someone Mr. Brooks’s age, he doesn’t appear to be in any kind of distress at the moment. Other than bruising and battering, he has a dislocated shoulder and possibly a torn rotator cuff. We’re capable of monitoring his progress here, but if you’d prefer to have him moved to another facility…”

It was one thing to be allowed into Leland Brooks’s room, but Ali was surprised to be given so much information about his condition, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be consulted about the kind of care provided.

“Look,” Ali said. “I need to tell you, that I’m not a blood relation and probably shouldn’t have any say.”

“Mr. Brooks has an unusual blood type-O-negative-and wears a MedicAlert tag that gives emergency personnel access to his information. You’re listed as the person to be notified in case of an emergency. You’ve also been designated the decision maker regarding his treatment options.”

“He’s given me his medical power of attorney?” Ali asked.

“Do you mean to say that you didn’t know?” Dr. Langston asked.

“I do now,” Ali said. “And we’ll wait here until he wakes up,” she added, making the decision as she spoke.

“Let’s go take a look at you in the meantime,” the doctor said.

An X-ray revealed that her aching jaw wasn’t broken, but the cut next to her eye required two stitches. In another time and place, she would have been concerned about scarring. Now she was just glad to be alive.

After leaving the examination room, Ali returned to the chair next to Leland Brooks’s hospital bed, where she remained for the next several hours. She couldn’t help being sorry about keeping that solitary vigil. He was a wonderful human being, she had worked with him for months, but she didn’t know him that well. She had known nothing about his snoring, for instance, or the breakup of his romance, but she was the only person he had trusted to make life-and-death decisions about his medical care. How could that be?

Somewhere along the way, she fell asleep. When she awakened, it was dark outside, and someone had turned on a night-light on the far side of Leland’s bed. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see he was awake, too, and staring at her intently.

“I’m sorry,” Leland murmured. “So very sorry.”

“Sorry?” Ali repeated, straightening up and rubbing her eyes. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I let you down,” he said. “He was there in the driveway waiting for me, and I simply didn’t see it coming. He had brute force and surprise working in his favor. I never had a chance. I’m so sorry if he hurt you.”

It was entirely predictable that Leland’s first thought would be for someone else rather than for himself.

“He didn’t hurt me,” she said reassuringly. “Not really.”

“There’s a cut on your face-with stitches,” Leland objected.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “I’m fine.”

“Who was he?” Leland asked. “Do you know his name?”

“Winter-Dr. Peter Winter.”

“And did he get away?”

“No,” Ali said. “We got lucky. He’s in custody.”

“He was a big man,” Leland said. “Who caught him and how?”

“My mother has a Taser,” Ali said simply. “We used that.”

“I see,” Leland said with a nod, as though the idea of Edie Larson having a Taser were the most natural thing in the world. “What about Mr. Simpson?” he added. “Winter didn’t find him, did he? I hope he’s all right.”

That stopped Ali for a moment. Winter had claimed Leland had said nothing because he’d had nothing to tell. Evidently, that wasn’t the case. “Are you saying you knew about my involvement with Mr. Simpson?”

“Of course I knew about it,” Leland answered. “I’m your butler. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with computers. So when this man, this Winter person, kept raving about someone who had wrecked his computer files, I assumed it had to be Mr. Simpson.”

“But you didn’t give him Mr. Simpson’s name,” Ali said.

“No,” Leland replied. “Of course not. That’s not something I would do.”

“Thank you,” Ali said quietly. She meant it.

She wanted to say more, but just then a nurse stuck her head into the room. “We don’t have a kitchen here,” she said. “If you’d like something to eat, I can order in.”

They settled on Subway sandwiches. Once the nurse was gone, Ali turned to what had been bothering her while she’d been sitting awake and watching Leland sleep.

“I called your friend,” she said. “Your friend from Prescott. I’m sorry if that was the wrong thing to do, but I thought he’d want to know what had happened.”

“I assume he didn’t,” Leland said sadly.

“That’s correct,” Ali agreed. “He didn’t.”

“We broke up,” Leland said. “His children don’t approve of me, you see. I guess that means they don’t approve of him, either, but he’s their father. He doesn’t want to lose them. They gave him a choice of them or me. He chose them, and who can blame him?”