Last Run (17 page)

Not just any photograph, though.

‘Where was Terri Suarez, out of interest?’ he asked, almost casually. ‘When my brother was looking for her?’

‘Hasn’t she told you?’ Patterson asked.

‘I didn’t ask her,’ Sam said. ‘She’s too shaken up.’

‘As you all are,’ Patterson said.

His judgment, Sam felt, was being torn to bits. His first impulse was to shove the Naples detective out of the hospital and on to the street to get the job done; but bitterly angry as he was at
Grace, he still knew better than to completely dismiss her instincts. The photograph of Maria Rivera
was
disturbing him, as it had clearly disturbed Saul, and Joseph Patterson had already
quizzed Terri so Sam
needed
to keep him here at least until he had his answers.

Not that Patterson was under any obligation to tell him a damned thing about his case – even if Sam was a fellow cop, and even if there were, as Sam had already briefly told him, some
similarities with the Miami Beach and other east coast killings.

Most of all right here and now, Sam was a
relative
, which meant that Patterson and his colleagues were going to be particularly reluctant to tell him too much, let alone permit him any
involvement in their investigation.

The sympathy was there though, and professional courtesy.

‘She said she was walking around the city.’ Patterson finally answered Sam’s question about Terri’s whereabouts. ‘Had a drink in a bar, no proof of that, but then
she says she took a bus ride and got off at a pizza place just a little way from here – she showed us the receipt for that.’

‘You’re making her sound like a suspect,’ Sam remarked.

‘Not at all,’ the other man said quickly. ‘She’s one of us. But fact is they came into town as boyfriend and girlfriend, had a bust-up big enough to keep them apart all
afternoon and evening, and next thing your brother’s in the hospital. So we had to ask a few routine questions, you know?’

‘Sure,’ Sam said, grateful someone else had.

His thoughts turned back to Saul, to the ugliness of his injuries, the ferocity of the assault, the strength needed for such an attack. Terri had told them that she went to a gym, liked staying
in shape, and she was certainly that; a curvy, beautiful young woman, tough enough for her job, but nothing more than that.

‘She was on the beach, too, you know,’ Patterson told him.

Sam didn’t say anything.

‘I noticed the sand on her moccasins when she came into the inn. She said she took the bus back after her pizza, went walking on the beach for a while, then sat down to do some
thinking.’ The detective shrugged. ‘The kind of thing people – young lovers – do after a fight, I guess. Mooch on the beach, looking at the moon.’

‘So where was she,’ Sam asked, ‘when it happened?’

‘About a mile north of where your brother was attacked.’

‘Anyone to corroborate that?’

‘Any reason we’d need to, Detective Becket?’

‘Of course not,’ Sam said. ‘Force of habit. Routine, like you said.’

‘She said there were other people walking. We’ll be asking around.’

Sam was silent again, the question he’d wanted to ask for the last several moments still hanging heavily in his mind – but then Patterson answered it anyway.

‘Just sand and grit on her moccasins,’ he said. ‘No blood.’

Sam felt a sick kind of relief wash over him.

‘Not that it would prove much,’ Patterson added, ‘if Terri Suarez was a suspect. Not with the doc saying it was probably a bare foot that did the stomping.’

The relief, paltry as it had been, went away.

He had to ask,
had
to.

‘I don’t suppose you asked Terri – Officer Suarez – to show you her feet?’

‘No.’ Now Patterson was looking curiously at Sam. ‘Sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?’

‘Nothing,’ Sam said.

‘Something about Ms Suarez I should know?’

‘Not a thing.’ Sam shook his head. ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.’ His jaw felt stiff, his eyes were burning. ‘But then I’m
still having trouble believing what’s happened to my brother.’

‘What kind of a guy is he?’ The question was kind. ‘Is he a fighter?’

‘He’s a med student,’ Sam said. ‘Our dad’s a doctor.’ He took a breath, needing to control himself. ‘My brother’s a sweetheart of a guy. I’m
praying he’s a fighter, too.’

‘By the looks of your family, at least he’ll have a whole bunch of supporters in his corner.’ He saw Sam’s battle for composure starting up again, put out a hand and
gripped his arm briefly but supportively. ‘Meantime, we’re going to find this bastard.’

‘I’d like to help.’ Sam already knew how the other man would respond.

‘Best way you can do that,’ Patterson said, ‘is be here for Saul.’

Sam nodded. ‘Right,’ he said.

Lying through his teeth.

Sam checked on Saul, confirmed there was no change, then left the others to take it in turns to sit with him, and went downstairs and out into the warm air.

Dawn was well on its way, delicate and fragrant, heightened by the scent of the flowerbeds bordering the driveway at the front of the hospital. The urban section of Route 41, the Tamiami Trail,
lay straight ahead, vehicles skimming to and fro, traffic still light at this time.

Sam took out his cell phone and called Martinez, the only person outside the family he’d already told about Saul. Kovac and the captain could wait till later.

‘How is he?’ Martinez sounded as if he’d been waiting for the phone to ring.

‘Holding his own. Still in ICU, still critical.’

‘What can I do for you, man? Anything, name it.’

‘It’s a strange one, Al,’ Sam said, ‘and off the record, OK?’

‘Shoot,’ Martinez told him.

‘Anything out of place you can find out about Teresa Suarez.’

‘Saul’s lady?’ Martinez was confused. ‘The cop?’

‘That’s right,’ Saul said. ‘This is a little off, I know, but . . . ’

‘We’re not IAD, Sam.’ Martinez sounded upset. ‘And I wouldn’t find anything if I looked. She’s had all the checks, same as we all do when we’re starting
out.’

‘I know,’ Sam said. ‘I thought maybe you could have a discreet word with one of your girlfriends in Property or Personnel.’

‘You want me to try to look at her file?’ Martinez was patently reluctant.

‘I don’t know if that would help, Al.’ Sam began pacing the broad driveway, fighting the sudden wall of fatigue that felt about ready to collapse on him. ‘I already know
some family stuff – abusive father, both parents killed – life with her grandma – grandfather was NYPD, line of duty death.’

‘Jesus, man.’

‘I know,’ Sam agreed. ‘I don’t like it either, and the hell of it is I don’t even know what I’m looking for.’

‘It’s not so much
what
that bothers me as
why
?’ Martinez said. ‘You need to help me out here, tell me what’s goin’ on in your head.’ He
paused. ‘You’re thinking Suarez had something to do with what happened to Saul?’ He sounded incredulous.

‘Not really,’ Sam said. ‘I hope not. With all my heart.’

‘But if that is what you’re thinking, that means you’re tying this up with the beach murders.’ Martinez paused again. ‘Are you kidding me?’

‘I’m not in a kidding mood,’ Sam said. ‘And I can’t say any more right now. What I want is to
know
she’s OK. Most of all, that she loves my brother as
much as she says she does.’

‘And that she isn’t a secret whacko,’ Martinez added.

Coming out of the elevator back on the fifth floor, he saw them right away. Standing outside the ICU. Body language unmistakable.

Terror clamped around Sam’s heart. David had his arms around Cathy, her face buried in his chest. Grace had already seen him, started to move towards him but then stopped, uncertain if he
wanted her close, and stricken by the doubt.

Terri was leaning against a wall a few feet away, her face a mask of fear.

Apparent
fear.

Sam felt leaden as he walked towards them, by-passed them all, asking nothing, needing to see for himself, to
know . . .

He went through the door.

Saw a whole team around Saul’s bed, working on him.

Please, God, no, please, God no.

He heard Grace’s step behind him, felt her hand on his arm, looked around at her, saw the awful fear in her eyes.

Stepped away from her.

Chapter Nineteen

It had been a seizure, a bad one, but they had him back, stable again.

David told them it was possible it could happen again, but that he was in the best place and Saul was young and fit and tough.

No more surgery, he said, until he was stronger.

‘What can we do for him?’ Cathy asked David.

‘Be here,’ he told her. ‘Let him know we’re here, that we all love him.’

‘Need him,’ Terri said.

‘Can he hear us, do you think?’ Cathy asked.

‘Maybe,’ David answered. ‘We can’t be sure.’

‘What about you when you were unconscious that time?’ she asked him. ‘Could you hear people talking to you?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But that’s because I can’t remember because of the drugs. It doesn’t mean I didn’t hear.’

Cathy hardly stopped talking to Saul after that, told him every little thing that came into her head – talked to him, when no one else was around, about her feelings for
Kez, about how much she was missing her.

‘I keep thinking about the afternoon we met you and Teté in CocoWalk and you said we should all go have a drink, but we didn’t because Kez wanted us to be alone. But afterward
she was worried you might have been upset, and I told her you wouldn’t be offended about something like that, but still, you would have gotten to spend some time with Kez, and then
you’d understand how I feel about her. So when you’re better I hope we can do that anyway, though I’m not too sure that Kez is ever going to want to spend time with me
again.’

She paused, hoping for some tiny response, the smallest movement of a finger,
anything
, but there was nothing, would be nothing for a long while yet.

And if there had ever been the smallest doubt in her mind as to the depth of her feelings for Saul, it was entirely extinguished now.

They took rooms at a motel near the hospital, taking it in turns to go there to shower and sleep for short periods before going back again.

David was practically immovable, for which Sam – anxious as he was that their father not make himself sick – was profoundly grateful, since so long as that grey-haired, hawk-nosed
old guard dog was on duty, it freed him at least to liaise with Patterson, check in periodically with Martinez (nothing so far of any interest on Terri) and take a couple of late night walks on the
beach – about all he felt he could get away with without arousing the irritation, or worse, of the local force.

Sam did not want a grain of bad feeling between himself and Joseph Patterson or his colleagues. He wanted them on this case with as much motivation and goodwill as humanly possible. For now, at
least, they were still in what many cops called ‘the first seventy-two’ – the period during which new cases were most likely, statistically, to be solved, after which, with
manpower as stretched in Naples as in Miami Beach – though there were exceptions, especially in particularly high profile cases – the only detective likely to be left with the case was
the lead investigator, most people returning to work on other old cases and, of course, new crimes.

Saul might be one of the most important people in Sam’s life, but there was nothing remotely high profile about him – and he wasn’t even dead.

Sam still felt torn between the urge to get out on the streets  – as a private citizen, not a cop – and his need to keep Terri under a degree of
surveillance.

Not that he actually believed she was the one.

He’d had occasion to see the soles of Terri’s feet early the first morning, an hour or so after he’d talked with Detective Patterson.

They had been taking a few minutes in the relatives’ room – David and Grace sitting in the ICU – and Cathy had fallen asleep on the couch.

Terri had taken off her moccasins, lifted one foot at a time and rubbed it.

Neat, tidy feet with red toenails. Smooth soles and heels.

Not a blemish.

That ought, Sam thought, to have been a turning point, the instant he should have felt able to drop the notion for keeps and let her off the hook, yet it had not been, for there was no real
reason why the foot which had stamped on his brother’s throat should have been injured or marked in any way.

So he was still watching, just in case.

He blamed her anyway.

For not having been with Saul when he’d been attacked. For having had another quarrel with him. For walking out on him, leaving him distressed enough to spend the rest of the afternoon and
evening out searching for her.

Though even if they hadn’t fought, Sam tried to rationalize, if Terri had not walked out, they might still have taken a nighttime stroll along the beach, and maybe the attack might still
have taken place.

Not if they were prowling, looking for a lone victim. All three of the others had been alone on the beach, all after dark. Which meant that the chances were that it would
not
have
happened to Saul if Terri had been with him, and Sam didn’t know if he could ever forgive her for that.

Which made him no better than Althea with her unforgiving heart, because he had not been there when their little boy had pulled away from
her
grasp and been run down by the drunk
driver.

If – when – Saul got better, Sam would have to find a way to forgive Terri. She was looking about as ripped apart as he felt, had told Sam how much she wanted to stay close to Saul,
yet wanted at the same time – just like him – to be out there helping find the scum who’d done this.

She had told Sam, too, how much she hated herself for running out on Saul. Had told Grace the same thing.

‘I hate myself for that,’ Terri had said to her, ‘more than I could ever have believed possible.’