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Authors: Lynda Wilcox

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BOOK: Strictly Murder
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"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?" I yelled as the driver's side wing mirror slid out of sight, crushed by the side of the truck. I was already on the hard shoulder and the truck came at me again, crumpling my door and the front wing.

"It's Verity Long, I'm on the Crofterton bypass. I'm being run off the road by a truck. It's …"

Too late I saw the parked car, hazard lights flashing, and stamped on my brakes. Nothing happened. Nothing was working, not the car, nor my brain, nor my legs and arms which now, in my hour of need, appeared to belong to someone else.

"Help, please help," I screamed hoping that someone, anyone could hear. Knowing my luck the call had probably gone straight to voice mail.

Acting purely on automatic, relying on my reflexes, I swung the wheel hard over to the left to avoid the parked car, shot on to the verge, over the brow of the embankment and down towards the Armco.

"Oh, God, now nobody will know about Greg Ferrari," was my last conscious thought before the crash happened and blackness descended.

Chapter 13

The darkness made it hard to see. Taking stock, I decided that either something had touched my hair or, and I wasn't totally happy about this option, there was a large spider on top of my head. For a moment I felt its hairy feet before realising it was someone moving my own hair off my forehead. Whoever did so stroked gently and tenderly. Someone, perhaps the same someone, it was hard to tell without opening my eyes and I didn't want to do that, whispered my name. I knew I was lying down and felt pain in my side and in my knee. Something smooth lay under my right hand, fabric possibly. The stroking continued and I let it, the constant rhythmic movement soothing and restful. I sensed someone bending over me, a lingering kiss on my forehead then my lips. I murmured briefly, I think, before the world went away.

A soft hand picked up mine.

"Mmmm. Kiss me. Kiss me again."

"Not a good idea, really," said a cool voice. "The Medical Ethics Board does tend to take a dim view of that sort of doctor/patient relationship."

My eyes slammed open. To my horror, a total stranger in a white coat stood taking my pulse. On the opposite side of the bed a young nurse attempted to stifle a laugh. Mortified, I did the only thing possible. I closed my eyes, pretended I wasn't there and let the darkness sweep over me again.

This time the kiss on my lips lingered. I opened one eye and just as quickly closed it again.

"I know you're awake, Verity. Stop pretending, my girl, and talk to me."

Damn! I'd been rumbled. I opened the same eye again and this time kept it open. Inspector Farish occupied a chair by the side of my bed, a hospital bed by the look of the sheets and metal frame and seeing him brought everything back. I opened the other eye and tried to sit up. Pain shot through me and I let out a groan.

"He killed her, Jerry, he killed that child all those years ago and she found out so he killed her and then he . . " it all came out in one long stream.

"Hush, hush," his strong gentle hands touched my shoulders forcing me back. "I know I asked you to talk but you're gabbling. Relax Verity, take your time."

I groaned again, my eyes closing as he eased me back, the pressure of his hands forcing me to obey.

Gabbling, I thought as my head touched the pillow, I'm not gabbling. How dare he say I'm gabbling, I'm not, this is important; he tried to kill me, the man, he forced me off the road, he … he … who was he, it was important, he'd killed her, killed the other one, the man, he'd killed me …

A cool hand took hold of my left wrist. I glanced sideways, a nurse taking my pulse. She smiled at me.

"So you're awake, are you? Just take it easy. I'll get you something to drink in a moment. Are you in pain?"

"Yes, a little."

"I'll get you something for that as well. Do you know your name?"

"Yes."

"Which is?"

"Verity. Verity Long."

"And do you know where you are, Verity?"

I looked around at the bare, white walls, the bed with the curtains around it and the metal stand at one side with the drip tube that curved down into my arm.

"Er … that would be a hospital, would it?"

I felt the warning pressure of Jerry's hand on mine but the nurse carried on, oblivious to my sarcastic tone.

"Good. You're in Crofterton General Hospital." She looked across at Jerry. "Ten minutes, don't overtax her," she said sternly. "She's lucky to be here, it was one hell of an accident."

She walked away, blue uniform rustling. I turned my head to face Inspector Farish. The nurse's intervention had given me the time to put my shattered, incoherent thoughts into some sort of order.

"Greg Ferrari ran me off the road, didn't he?"

"Somebody did, certainly."

"Yes, well, Greg Ferrari," I began, raising a hand to stop him when he tried to silence me, "killed a child, a child in a hit and run accident twenty years ago. Somehow, Jaynee Johnson found this out so he killed her too to stop her talking. Then he tried to kill me for the same reason. I've got names, dates …"

He stood up and leant over me, one hand on the metal frame of the bed head the other over mine. Was he going away again?

"It's important, Jerry. Ferrari has to be stopped. You have to mpmf, mnf mmf."

I couldn't say any more for his lips covered mine in a warm soft kiss. I let them.

"What was that for? I asked, when his lips left mine and he walked to the door.

He stopped in the doorway and turned round, half in and half out of the room.

"It was the best way I could think of to stop you talking." He smiled. "Besides, I enjoyed it."

His eyes held the promise of better things to come.

"Get well, Verity, I'll speak to you tomorrow. Your boss will be along shortly and the doctor says you'll be fine - although, in a day or so's time you will have a small garden bird for a while."

And with this cryptic comment he was gone.

By the time KD breezed in a short time later, wearing a big smile and a startling cerise pink jacket, so garish it hurt my eyes and threatened an instant relapse, I was feeling much better. I had occupied the time between the Inspector's departure and her arrival trying to make sense of everything I'd learned in Northworthy but mostly I'd been polishing the memory of that last kiss.

"How are you, my dear?"

KD plonked herself down in the chair vacated by Jerry Farish, spilling grapes and chocolates onto the bed.

"Do you know who you are, where you are and what happened? Oh, I've been so worried about you. You were unconscious for nearly twenty four hours."

If the Inspector thinks I gabble, he really ought to hear KD in full flow, I thought as I removed the bag of grapes to the relative safety of the bedside table.

"Yes, yes and I think so, thank you," I said, though I hadn't realised I'd been out of things for so long.

KD popped a grape in to her mouth. Cerise pink lipstick, I noticed, presumably to match the jacket.

"I'm fine, KD, and I'm sorry that I've worried you. Thank you for coming. Now, please tell me what day it is."

"It's Sunday, dear, Sunday morning." She looked at her watch. "Nearly twelve o'clock. You called me on Friday evening from the bypass, screaming and saying something about being forced off the road. I called the emergency services for an ambulance and the police, and then I had to wait. I would have been here earlier but every time I phoned the hospital the nurses put me off, said you weren't able yet to have visitors."

Sunday, already? So that explained why the nurses constantly kept checking that I wasn't in a coma. I dragged my thoughts back to what KD had just said. Every time she'd phoned, eh? Bless her, she really had been concerned about me.

"I came, anyway, in the end. I couldn't stand being at home and not knowing how you were."

"How long have you been here?"

"More than an hour, I think. I saw your Inspector chappie just leaving as I came in and I've been pacing the corridors ever since. The nurse wouldn't let me in. She said you weren't to have too many visitors too close together."

I decided not to try and make sense of this, my brain wasn't up to it at the moment.

"Greg Ferrari killed the other Charlotte Neill," I told her. "The one in Northworthy."

"Please don't talk about it now, Verity. I wish you'd left it to the police, like I told you."

"But …"

"I wish you'd never found the wretched Neal case. I don't want you in danger."

"But …"

"I think I'm going to give up writing from old cases and go back to making it up. It will be much safer for all concerned."

"KD …"

It was no good. In this mood she was as unstoppable as an express train and just as dangerous.

"I'm not going to have my friends risking their lives. Agnes Merryweather just isn't worth it. From now on I shall … why, Verity dear, what's the matter?"

To my extreme annoyance I was crying. Salty tears ran down my cheeks, into my mouth, into my hair and onto the pillow. KD whisked out a handkerchief and dabbed at my face.

"But I'll be out of a job," I sobbed like a child. Unable to stop, I blubbered on. "You won't need a researcher any more and I enjoy being your researcher. I don't want to be only a secretary."

This was ridiculous. What had come over me all of a sudden? I made an effort to get a grip on myself.

"I'm sorry, KD."

"It's all right." She squeezed my hand. "It's all right, Verity. You're upset and emotional. And who wouldn't be after what you've gone through?" she added quickly, seeing the look on my face. "Just take a moment to calm down. I shan't be a second."

She left the room and I dabbed at my eyes. Goodness, what a fool I was making of myself. Upset and emotional, indeed! Well, maybe I was. I blamed whatever they'd put in the drip. Yes, that was it. It was the drug's fault.

KD returned in a business-like manner and sat back down. Whatever was coming, I knew she'd brook no argument.

"The nurse has just told me that, all being well, they are going to discharge you tomorrow afternoon, which in my opinion is far too soon but is good news nonetheless. I have arranged with her that they are to order a taxi for you, at my expense, and that you are coming to stay at Bishop Lea with me. No, don't say anything yet."

I hadn't been going to. Right now, I didn't feel capable of anything, let alone organising myself. Or worse, fighting my employer. For the moment I was happy to leave everything to KD.

BOOK: Strictly Murder
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