Not Quite Gone (A Lowcountry Mystery) (11 page)

The chair’s angles make getting comfortable a challenge, but in the end, it doesn’t matter so much. My head tips back against the wall, my shoulders relax, and I’m seconds away from snoring like someone’s drunk grandfather after Thanksgiving dinner when someone nudges a toe against my shin.

I crack an eye, thinking that
it better be that damned doctor because if anyone else is bothering me, they’re going to catch me pitching a fit.

It’s not Dr. Shaw. Or a nurse.

It’s a woman, younger than me, with Beau’s eyes.
 

Chapter Seven

“I’m Birdie. Drayton.”

I swallow my shock, and wish I didn’t look like a half-dead bird dragged inside by a cat. “Graciela Harper.”

“I know. I’ve checked your Facebook profile.”

“That’s a little disconcerting,” I comment, pushing my bangs out of my face and sitting up.

Birdie Drayton also has her brother’s nose and dimples, though her hair is coppery instead of honey
colored. I spend a few seconds trying to decide if she colors it but if she does, it’s expensive enough not to show. She shrugs like she couldn’t care less what I think and sits down two chairs away.

“You still waiting on the doctor?”

I nod and she buries her nose in her BlackBerry, manicured nails clicking away until the sound makes me want to jab hairpins into my eardrums just to make it stop.
I grind my teeth to drown her out while thinking that if I had a brother and he had almost lost his life in a freak accident, I sure as hell wouldn’t take his stupid girlfriend’s word for the fact that I couldn’t see him. I’d have marched straight up to that nurse and demanded his room number.

Then again, I don’t
have
a brother so maybe I’m wrong. I also did not, thank goodness, have Cordelia
Drayton for a mother, so maybe judging Birdie—or even Brick—isn’t fair.

“What kind of snake did you say it was?” Birdie doesn’t look up, leading me to wonder if maybe she’s been researching this entire time.

“I don’t know exactly. A viper that’s indigenous to the African coastal regions.” Something about the term
Slave Coast
tries to trigger a thought but my exhaustion prevents pretty much everything
but autopilot. “They said it was either lost or taken from some snake sanctuary on Edisto.”

“Well, they can expect a goddamn lawsuit first thing in the fucking morning,” she mutters.

Her language takes me by surprise, not because I never drop a well-timed curse now and again but because it’s so at odds with her obvious breeding. Not that I’m naive enough to think the upper class never has occasion
to dirty their mouths, but in public? It’s certainly strange.

She goes back to ignoring me, but I’m tired of sitting in silence and she’s killed my chance at taking a nap. “So how come you’re here? Your mother said Brick was coming.”

Birdie—I have no idea whether that’s her real name but it just
can’t
be—slides a glance my direction. There’s no other way to describe her expression other than
appraising. “Brick had a meeting with the Middletons tonight regarding their pending custody case. He always turns his phone off when he’s with important clients.”

My mouth falls open. I can’t help it.
Calm down, Gracie.
There’s a chance there are two Middletons involved in custody cases right now.
 

Brick might not be representing Amelia’s former in-laws, who are trying to take custody of her
unborn child. Even if Beau hadn’t mentioned the friendly history between the families, he surely wouldn’t forget to mention
that
.

The memories of us on the porch the other day, the feeling that he kept more secrets than he revealed, nags at me. Confuses me. My confidence lags.

“What?” Birdie’s eyes are huge, wavering from green to golden brown the way Beau’s do under certain lights. Unlike her
brother, Birdie is clearly faking her innocence. “You didn’t know?”

Two can play this game.

“Didn’t know what?”

“That our firm is representing your cousin’s in-laws. It’s really too bad that she’s totally lost her shit in the wake of everything that happened. Understandable, but too bad.”

Red mist starts to form in front of my eyes while a tiny, barely audible voice in the back of my mind
that kind of sort of sounds like Amelia’s advises me not to let yet another member of Beau’s family bait me into making a bad impression. No doubt Birdie has heard all the bad from Brick, and to be honest, my guess is as good as anyone’s when it comes to what Mrs. Drayton actually thinks of me.

“No, I didn’t know,” is all that comes out of my mouth. My tone could use some work but considering
how hard my blood is boiling right now, it’s the best I can do.

A flicker of disappointment flashes across her face, which gives me no small amount of satisfaction.

“Miss Harper?” Dr. Shaw distracts me from an impending attempted murder charge.
 

I stand up and so does Birdie. We’re about the same height but she’s got boobs I’d start eating shit like hummus or kale to get and, let’s face it,
much better fashion sense. The doctor looks back and forth between us as though he’s waiting for an introduction. It takes me a moment to realize he wants to know who she is so he’ll know whether it’s okay to talk about Beau in front of her.

“This is Beau’s sister, Birdie Drayton.” They shake hands while I try not to scream. “Can I see him?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll take you to him now.”

“He’s doing okay?” I fret as we follow him down the hall and onto the elevator. My anxiety decreased after the good news earlier but it’s not going away until I see him with my own two eyes. And touch him a lot, too.

“He’s awake but pretty groggy. He’s going to need some follow-up as far as the scarring, but otherwise we’ll let him go home tomorrow as long as there aren’t any complications overnight.”
He pauses outside a door in a hallway that looks like all the others. “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” I tell him over my shoulder, my gaze already locked on Beau’s. My heart pounds, potent relief making my eyes tear up again as I bounce onto the side of the bed and bury my face in his neck. “You smell like hospital,” I mumble into his skin.

Beau’s chuckle is weak, but the way it vibrates through me
makes us both feel alive. “Note to self: do not buy the hospital-scented cologne next time no matter how hard the sell.”

His body goes rigid a moment later. I don’t have to sit up to know his sister has come into the room but I do anyway, because cuddling in front of her feels awkward. My eyes travel between them, trying without success to read the silent exchange between siblings, wishing not
for the first time that my mother hadn’t stopped with me.

“Birdie.”

“Beauregard. Mother sent me to make sure you hadn’t died.”

“So you’d be on hand to execute my will if I had? Very practical.”

Birdie rolls her eyes, sitting primly on the edge of the chair on her brother’s other side. “Don’t be maudlin. I’m quite glad you’ve survived your incident. My workload is on the heavy side at the moment.”

Her slight smile and the almost-amused shake of his head are the only indications that the two of them could possibly be kidding around. Beau’s fingers find mine on top of the blankets but it’s not long before my discomfort—not to mention the surety that they’d have continued talking if I weren’t here—gets to me.

I give him a squeeze and stand up. “I’m going to get a water from the vending machine.
Does anyone else want anything?”

“I’ll take a diet soda. Do you need a dollar?” Birdie’s sweet, fake smile returns but this time, after hearing the two of them “joke,” it makes me wonder if she’s waiting for the same from me.

I’m way too tired to figure it out. “No, I’ve got it. Beau?”

“Cheetos? I’m starving.”

“Beauregard, for goodness’ sakes. Those things are basically orange-dusted nuclear
waste.”

“They’re comfort food, what can I say?”

I find it hard to believe Mrs. Drayton ever comforted these two, with Cheetos or anything else, but bite my tongue. “I’ll check with the nurse and bring you a bag if she says okay. Just this once.”

Birdie startles at the wink I throw her direction on my way out of the room, which puts the slightest bit of bounce back in my step.

The nurse at
the end of the hall says it’s fine for Beau to have a snack and points me toward the vending machines, which are down at the end of a second hallway, just outside another waiting area that looks as though it doubles as a break room for the staff.

The soda, water, and two bags of chips—for some reason those Cool Ranch Doritos call to me like a siren—eat all the cash in my wallet. I slink back
down the hall, stopping when the sound of Beau’s and Birdie’s hushed voices spill through the cracked-open door. It feels a little slimy, to eavesdrop, but it’s worked for me too many times to let that stop me now.

“It’s not my fault you don’t tell your girlfriend things you should,” Birdie says, the slightest bit of apology threaded through her defensive tone.

“Gee, Bird, I can’t imagine why
telling her that my family is trying to destroy hers didn’t come so easily. Not all of us are made of metal and gears.”

“Funny, big brother, but these are your issues, not mine. I honestly thought after everything that happened with Lucy you’d be more purposeful about being honest in your relationships.” There’s a pause. Even from the hallway, I can feel the oxygen suck out of the room.

Or maybe
it’s just sucked out of me.

“You haven’t told her about that, either?” Birdie’s tone turns sad, now. “Oh, Beauregard. Mother thinks you really like this one. Perhaps if she knew this she wouldn’t be quite so concerned.”

My heart is somewhere around my colon when movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I leap, unsure if I’m being busted or it’s just a nurse coming to check in,
but it turns out to be neither—it’s the ghost of little Nan Robbins.

My lungs release the oxygen they held hostage in my attempt not to scream. I put a hand on the wall to steady my knees, which have gotten quite the workout this evening, and give the ghost my best exasperated look. “We discussed the whole startling me thing.”

She shrugs, looking annoyed and unapologetic in the way that only
a fourteen-year-old girl can. It crosses my mind that perhaps Nan deserves more than her fair share of sympathy, being stuck at that awkward, horrible age for all eternity.

Nan’s gaze trails to the voices still murmuring in Beau’s room, too quiet to overhear now. Or maybe it’s just that my heart is pounding so loud in my ears that I can’t hear them. Then she does something that all my ghosts
do: she points.

Her small finger lifts, hovering inches away from the chart hanging on a hook to the right of Beau’s door. I lean in, trying to see what’s caught her attention or what she wants to catch mine. She seems to be pointing right at the line with his name on it.

“Beau? Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.” I pause. She frowns. That’s not it. “Drayton?”

Nanette nods vigorously, her long braid
bouncing over her shoulder.

“You knew Brick Drayton, didn’t you?” She nods, her dark eyes full of tears. “Not just from school.”

This time she doesn’t respond, but it wasn’t really a question. The heavy dread in my stomach gives a little shimmy, a reminder that it’s been there since I read his name in that article about her death.

“He had something to do with what happened to you.”

The answer
is written all over her face, which hovers between regret, longing, and fear. Then she’s gone, a split second before a nurse rounds the corner and strides down the hall toward Beau’s room. I need time to process everything that’s happened tonight—including all the information my boyfriend’s apparently been hiding from me—but now isn’t the time. He’s lying in a hospital bed after being bitten by
a
viper
,
and the truth is, I love him regardless and what happened tonight scared the shit out of me.

I shove aside the secrets and that last look on Nanette’s face, open the door, and return to my boyfriend’s side. Tomorrow is, of course, another day, and there’s no way it can be as outrageous as this one.

Beau falls asleep after breakfast
the next morning. Birdie didn’t stay more than an hour last night and no one from the family has called to check in since. Their lack of interest still strikes me as odd, but in a way, it makes things easier. At least I’m not left here wondering where my place is, whether I should go or stay, things like that. My boyfriend belongs to Heron Creek, not to those people, and it’s high time they let him
out of here so we can both get home.

Dr. Shaw came in a while ago and told me Beau would be discharged a little before lunch, which leaves me a couple of hours to waste. There are a few mysteries vying for my attention, but the one that’s bothering me the most is the one surrounding Nanette Robbins. I can’t very well confront Beau about keeping secrets like their family representing the Middletons
and…whatever else Birdie was referring to last night if I’m not going to be completely honest about what I’ve seen out at Drayton Hall. Even so, accusing Brick of being involved without any kind of proof is going to toss a hand grenade into our otherwise happy relationship. Beau might not be crazy about his family—and the way they raised him might have left behind more than a few lingering issues—but
Brick’s his brother. I’m not naive enough to think that, when push comes to shove, blood isn’t going to matter.