Beautiful Maids All in a Row (9 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

BOOK: Beautiful Maids All in a Row
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Chapter 8

My run hit the spot. At first light, I turned off my television, laced up my sneakers, and took off, not stopping for five miles. I managed to run out all my tension from the previous night and was ready to face the fresh hell the day would no doubt throw at me.

I'd felt like a caged animal in my hotel room the night before, all but climbing the walls with my fingernails. I couldn't read; I couldn't sleep; even the television drove me nuts. And there was only one person to blame: Luke Stanton Hudson. Our conversation festered in my brain, and every time I replayed it I just grew angrier and angrier. He was so damn judgmental. Everything was black or white, no room for gray. When you're staring at the man who mutilated you and murdered your husband seconds before and you have a gun in your hand, the world is as gray as it could possibly be. Meriwether deserved a lot more than what I did to him. I was far more merciful than he had been.

But what really got under my skin, what pissed me off to the point I wanted to shoot someone again, was the fact that I cared what Luke thought about me. I cared that he thought I was a cold-hearted bitch. I'd gotten used to the fact that people thought I was unhinged. I was used to the look of apprehension and fear I always found, but I'd never thought I'd see it on Luke's face.
Never.
It hurt me a lot more than I ever thought possible. So I ran. I ran from the rotunda of the Capitol all the way to the Washington Monument. I ran until my legs cramped and my lungs felt like balloons about to burst inside my chest. I didn't think, I just listened to the Allman Brothers and went.

Sweat covered every inch of my body as I walked into the hotel lobby. Immediately, I spotted Luke standing in the corner talking on his cellphone. My stomach did a somersault. I chalked it up to overextending myself and not because he looked so damn good in that light gray suit and blue shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. That was my story, and I was sticking to it. Though I did wipe my brow and smooth my hair on reflex. I walked over to him, and he just pointed to the coffee on the ground next to his feet. Milk and sugar, just the way I liked it.

“Well, we appreciate it a great deal. We'll be there in about half an hour. Thank you, doctor.” Luke shut his cellphone.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“You need to get dressed.” Not waiting for me, he walked toward the elevator. I scoffed and followed. Somebody forgot his manners leaving the house that morning.

I leapt into the elevator just in time. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry. Morning,” he said, watching the numbers on the elevator go up. The door opened and we stepped into the hallway. He walked quickly down the hall to my door. I followed a few paces behind, not sharing his enthusiasm. He stopped in front of the door, waiting for me to unlock it. “You need to shower and change.”

“First tell me who was on the phone,” I said, hand on my hip. He didn't answer. “What? Is it a secret or something?”

Luke sighed as if he wanted to delay the inevitable. “Justine Romy's boyfriend, Chuck Winkler.”

“Oh,” I said in a disembodied voice.

Dr. Chuck Winkler, best man at my wedding. My husband's best friend.

Shit.

I hadn't seen him since he dropped off a bouquet of daisies in my hospital room days after the attack. I was still very weak—losing almost three pints of blood and vital organs does that to you—and I had a revolving door of guests come and visit me, mainly other agents and the odd overzealous reporter. Chuck came the fourth day, looking exactly like a man who'd just lost his best friend. That air of easygoingness and goodwill had evaporated, or I guess more accurately was stolen from him. We didn't say anything to each other. He just took the seat next to my bed and began to weep. And what did I do? Nothing. I turned away from him and didn't look back until he left ten minutes later. If anyone felt the loss of Hayden as much as I did, it was Chuck, and I couldn't stand the fucking sight of him.

“He wants us to meet him at the hospital in half an hour,” Luke said.

“Does he know I'll be there?”

Luke nodded. “He asked to speak to both of us. Is that okay?” I hesitated for a second, deciding if I could handle another reunion with a person I wronged. Luke picked up on my reluctance. “If you're uncomfortable…”

“No,” I finally said, “it's fine. It's why I'm here, right? I'll just go get ready.”

I moved over to my open suitcase and pull out a royal-blue blouse, and gray pants with a matching jacket. I rushed into the bathroom and jumped in the shower. I was moderately hesitant to take a shower with Luke in the next room not twenty feet away. I knew he would never come in, but still. I was naked, with only a door separating us. Who knew what thoughts were going through his head? He was a man, and it wouldn't require much imagination. He had seen me naked before. I stopped myself from continuing this train of thought. It was just avoidance thinking so I didn't dwell on the fact that in half an hour I'd be face-to-face with my dead husband's best friend. Then, on second thought, I decided I'd rather dwell on Luke thinking of me naked than what was about to happen. Defense mechanisms did have their uses. I was out of the bathroom in record time. My wet hair was in its twist and my lipstick was on. I was ready.

At least I hoped so.

—

Our Lady of Mercy was a ten-story, white concrete building that could never be mistaken for anything but a hospital. A never-ending stream of ambulances entered and dropped off their cargo, only to reemerge seconds later, sirens blaring. That's what you got for living in a city with one of the highest murder rates in America. Never a dull moment. Doctors and nurses toiled endlessly over broken bodies for a pittance. It was a thankless job most of the time, which was one of the reasons Hayden and I got along so well. We both knew what humans were capable of doing to each other, and we did our best to stop and repair the damage. We could tell each other about our days and not worry the other would be shocked or disturbed. We had our noses in the grit but knew that when we came home, we could wash it off simply by being together.

I never liked hospitals, even before my stay after the attack, but returning that day took about everything I had. Going back to where I often visited my husband, seeing familiar faces, was unnerving. Especially seeing Chuck. What was he going to do when he saw me? Slap me? Hug me? Did he know about Luke and me? What was seeing us together going to do to him? He'd just lost a girlfriend. Why on earth would he want to see the woman responsible for killing his best friend?

“This is a bad idea,” I said minutes from the hospital.

“What?” Luke asked.

“Us. Being there together. I mean, should we both be talking to him?”

“You're just a consultant; you can't interview him alone.”

“You can deputize me,” I suggested. Federal agents had the power to deputize a citizen under dire circumstances. That qualified in my book.

Luke gave me a sideways glance. “I can't do that.”

“Why not?”

He glanced again with a sigh. “I am under strict orders not to give you any more power than you already have.”

“Why?”

“I think you know.”

Yeah, I knew. Reggie, the asshole.

We pulled up to the hospital and parked in the visitors' lot. Luke stopped the car and turned to me. “This is about the case, nothing more. As long as we play it professional, so will he. That's all we can do. You're okay to do this,” he said, not as a question but a statement of fact. I nodded. I could do this. I got out of the car.

When we asked for Chuck at reception, the woman pointed to the doctors' lounge. I knew where it was. Luke and I maneuvered our way through the gurneys and orderlies and stopped in front of the lounge. I took a deep, calming breath and stepped in.

Chuck sat at a small table in the middle of the room, sipping coffee. He hadn't changed much. His brown hair was cut about an inch from his head and his hazel eyes were heavy with sleep. He'd lost a little weight. When I last saw him a beer belly was in the works. The change was probably Justine's influence.

He didn't smile when he saw us. I couldn't remember him when he didn't have a smile on his face. He was always so gregarious and fun-loving; though having the person you loved taken from you so violently wiped all remnants of a smile from your face. I could attest.

He appraised me, but the conclusion he drew didn't show in his eyes. He slowly stood up from the table and walked over to me, completely ignoring Luke to my left. When he stood a foot away from me, he stopped. Then he did something I didn't expect. He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tight. I was shocked enough to stop breathing. Without realizing it, I hugged him back. We hugged for what felt like hours, but was really only a few seconds.

He broke away first. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I just…had to hug you.”

“It's okay,” I chuckled. “I don't mind.”

He half-smiled. “You look…” he began but trailed off.

“I know. I look like hell. Everyone keeps telling me.” I glanced at an uncomfortable Luke, then told Chuck, “You don't look so hot yourself.”

“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders. We left it at that.

Luke, deciding it was time to end the love fest, took a step toward us. “Dr. Winkler, we just have a few follow-up questions for you.”

“Right.” Chuck gestured at the table for us to sit. I took the chair across from him, with Luke taking the seat next to him; he moved the chair closer to me. The few dinner parties I'd managed to put together with the four of us were always this awkward. Luke and Chuck never seemed to get on, which always puzzled me because Chuck liked everyone, but he never warmed up to Luke. They tried at the beginning, but later on Chuck just seemed to get colder and colder toward him. I never thought to ask why, and in the later years I just gave up. That air of frostiness filled the doctors' lounge.

“How long were you and Dr. Romy dating?” Luke began.

“Six months,” Chuck said. “She actually asked
me
out.”

“I believe it,” I said with a smile. “You were always shy.”

Luke cleared his throat. We both glanced back to him. “In the past month or two did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Any strange men following you or her?”

“No, nothing. She would have told me if something was off.”

“Did she attend any medical conferences lately?” I asked.

“Not for about a year.”

“Did she go out of town at all?” Luke asked.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head.

“Have you ever heard the names Sarah Illes, Amanda Denker, or Patricia Curtis?”

“None of those are familiar, except from the news,” he said.

“Do you know of anybody who would want to hurt her? Old boyfriends? Disgruntled patients?”

“No.”

Luke let out an exasperated sigh and clicked the pen he was using to take notes shut. “You said you had new information for us,” Luke said, not veiling his annoyance.

“No,” Chuck countered, sounding equally annoyed, “I said I had
something
new for you. Do you want it or not?”

Both men glared at each other in a duel to see who was the more pissed off of the two. I jumped in before the fisticuffs began. “What do you have for us?”

They broke off the stare. Luke peered down at the floor, embarrassed he'd shown any emotion, let alone anger. Chuck chuckled uneasily. “I have some things she left over at my place in my car.”

“Why don't I walk you to your car to get them,” I suggested. “Luke, I'll meet you at our car.”

Luke glanced at me, then at Chuck. “All right.” He stood from the table. “Don't be long.” Luke left the room, and all the tension went with him. Chuck's shoulders relaxed when the door finally shut.

“Okay, you want to tell me what that was all about?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just don't like that guy. Never have. I couldn't believe it when I saw him the day she disappeared. He brought me in for questioning and treated me like a criminal.”

“That's his job,” I said, “and he's very good at it. If anyone can find the man who killed Justine, it's him. I never knew a better agent.”

“I'll just have to trust you on that one.” He sighed. “The stuff's actually in my locker. I just wanted him gone.” He stood up and unlocked the locker, pulling out a small box. “It's just some clothes, some books she was reading, and some of Gabe's toys. Nothing that interesting.”

“You never know. Thank you,” I said, taking the box.

He frowned as I took it. “I was going to ask her to marry me, you know. Bought the ring and everything.” He was quiet for a moment, his normally joyful face contorted with sadness. “I wish it was me, you know? I'd give my life to have her standing here. Just the thought of not having her laugh at one of my stupid jokes is too much. I feel like I'm in hell.” He paused. “Does it ever go away? The pain?”

“No. It just…becomes more bearable. Or maybe you just get used to it; I don't know. But it never leaves you. Not even for a day.”

He nodded slowly. “He loved you, you know? From the moment he saw you. He came to me the next day and said, ‘Chuck, I met the woman I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with last night. And she is…brilliant.' You made him so proud. So happy. He never stopped loving you. Not for a
second.
Even though…” He couldn't say it. He couldn't even look at me. “I thought something was going on between you and Luke,” Chuck confessed. “I saw how comfortable you were together. How he looked at you. Hayden just wouldn't believe it.”

“It only happened once,” I said, “and I regretted it the
second
it did.”

“I know; I heard everything. I was surprised it was only the once. From the way he looked at you all those years, I thought for sure it had been going on longer. I just thank God Hayden never found out.” He sighed. “It took me a while to forgive you, but he would have wanted me to.”

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