Karin Slaughter - Blindsighted

In the living room, Jeffrey picked up the phone and dialed Sara's number, hoping he could catch her before she left for work. Her machine picked up, so he dialed the Linton house.

Eddie Linton answered the phone on the third ring. "Linton and Daughters."

Jeffrey tried to remain pleasant. "Hey, Eddie, it's Jeffrey."

The phone clattered as it was dropped onto the floor. Jeffrey could hear dishes and pans in the background, then muffled conversation. A few seconds later Sara picked up the phone.

"Jeff?"

"Yeah," he answered. He could hear her opening the door onto the deck. The Lintons were the only people he knew who didn't have a cordless phone in their house. There was an extension in the bedroom and one in the kitchen. If not for the ten-foot cord the girls had put on the kitchen phone when they were back in high school, privacy would not have been possible.

He heard the door close, then Sara said, "Sorry."

"How're you doing?"

She skipped an answer, saying, "I'm not the one who got shot last night."

Jeffrey paused, wondering about the sharp tone to her voice. "I heard about what happened with Julia Matthews."

"Right," Sara said. "I ran the blood in Augusta. Belladonna has two specific markers."

He cut short a chemistry lesson. "You found both of them?"

"Yes," she answered.

"So, we're looking for the same guy on both."

Her voice was clipped. "Looks that way."

A few seconds passed, then Jeffrey said, "Nick has this guy who's kind of a specialist on belladonna poisoning. He's bringing him by at ten. Can you make it?"

"I can pop over between patients, but I can't stay long," Sara offered. There was a change in her voice, something softer, when she said, "I need to go now, okay?"

"I want to go over what happened last night."

"Later, okay?" She didn't give him time to answer. The phone clicked in his ear.

Jeffrey let out a sigh as he limped toward the bathroom. On the way, he looked out the window, checking on Lena. She was still in the car, both hands gripping the wheel. It seemed like every woman in his life had something they were hiding today.

After a hot shower and shave, Jeffrey felt considerably better. His leg was still stiff, but the more he moved it the less it hurt. There was something to be said for staying mobile. The drive to the station was tense and quiet, the only noise in the car being the sound of Lena's teeth gritting. Jeffrey was glad to see the back of her as she walked toward the hospital.

Maria met him at the front door, her hands clasped in front of her chest. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said, taking his arm, leading him back toward his office. He put a stop to her fussing when she opened the door for him.

"I've got it," Jeffrey said. "Where's Frank?"

Maria's face fell. If Grant was a small place, its police force was even smaller. Rumors traveled faster within the ranks than a bolt of lightning through a steel rod.

Maria said, "I think he's in the back."

"Go fetch him for me, will you?" Jeffrey asked, making his way toward his office.

Jeffrey sat in his chair with a groan. He knew he was tempting fate with his leg, keeping it still for a while, but he did not have a choice. His men needed to know he was back on the job, ready to work.

Frank rapped his knuckles on the door and Jeffrey nodded him in.

Frank asked, "How you doing?"

Jeffrey made sure he had the other man's attention. "I'm not gonna get shot at anymore, am I?"

Frank had the decency to look down at his shoes. "No, sir."

"What about Will Harris?"

Frank rubbed his chin. "I hear he's going to Savannah."

"That right?"

"Yeah," Frank answered. "Pete gave him a bonus. Will bought himself a bus ticket." Frank shrugged. "Said he was gonna spend a couple of weeks with his daughter."

"What about his house?"

"Some fellas at the lodge volunteered to take care of the window."

"Good," Jeffrey said. "Sara's gonna want her car back. Did you find anything?"

Frank took a plastic evidence bag out of his pocket and set it down on the desk.

"What's this?" Jeffrey asked, but it was a stupid question. There was a Ruger.357 Magnum in the bag.

"It was under her seat," Frank said.

"Sara's seat?" he asked, still not getting it. The gun was a man stopper, the caliber enough to blow a hole into someone's chest. "In her car? This is hers?"

Frank shrugged. "She doesn't have a permit for it."

Jeffrey stared at the gun as if it could talk to him. Sara certainly wasn't against private citizens having weapons, but he knew for a fact that she wasn't exactly comfortable around guns, especially the kind that could shoot the lock off a barn door. He slipped the gun out of the bag, checking it.

"Serial numbers were filed off," Frank said.

"Yeah," Jeffrey answered. He could see that. "Was it loaded?"

"Yep." Frank was obviously impressed with the weapon. "Ruger security six, stainless steel. That's a custom handle, too."

Jeffrey dropped the gun into his desk drawer, then looked back at Frank. "Anything on the sex offender lists yet?"

Frank seemed disappointed that the discussion about Sara's gun was over. He answered, "Not really. Most of 'em have some kind of alibi. The ones who don't aren't really what we're looking for."

"We've got a meeting at ten with Nick Shelton. He's got a specialist on belladonna. Maybe we can give the guys something more to look for after that."

Frank took a seat. "I got that nightshade in my own backyard."

"Me, too," Jeffrey said, then, "I want to head over to the hospital after the meeting, see if Julia Matthews feels like talking." He paused, thinking about the young girl. "Her parents will be in around three. I want to be at the airport to meet them. You're riding shotgun with me today."

If Frank found Jeffrey's word choice funny, he did not comment.

SARA left the clinic at quarter till ten so that she could go by the pharmacy before she saw Jeffrey. There was a chill in the air and the clouds promised more rain. She tucked her hands into her pockets as she walked down the street, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her, hoping her posture and her pace would make her seem unapproachable. She needn't have bothered, though. Since Sibyl's death downtown had taken on an eerie quiet. It was as if the whole town had died with her. Sara knew how they felt.

All night, Sara had lain awake in bed, going over each step she had taken with Julia Matthews. No matter what she did, Sara kept seeing the girl laid out on her car, her hands and feet pierced, her eyes glazed as she stared without seeing the night sky. Sara never wanted to go through anything like that again.

The bell over the pharmacy door jingled as Sara walked in, breaking her out of her solitude.

"Hey, Dr. Linton," Marty Ringo called from behind the checkout counter. Her head was bent down, reading a magazine. Marty was a plump woman with an unfortunate mole growing just above her right eyebrow. Black hairs shot out from it like bristles on a brush. Working in the pharmacy, she knew the latest gossip about anyone and everyone in town. Marty would be certain to mention to whoever wandered into the store next that Sara Linton made a special trip to see Jeb today.

Marty smiled slyly. "You looking for Jeb?"

"Yes," Sara answered.

"Heard about last night," Marty said, obviously fishing for information. "That's a college girl, huh?"

Sara nodded, because that much could be found from the paper.

Marty's voice lowered. "Heard she was messed with."

"Mmm," Sara answered, looking around the store. "Is he here?" she asked.

"They both looked alike, too."

"What's that?" Sara asked, suddenly paying attention.