Alex had been sweating since she left Judge West’s chambers, her encounter with Dwayne on the courthouse steps ratcheting her body temp up another notch. The day was half over and she was as drained as she’d been after running the Warrior Dash, a 5K obstacle course that included mud pools, barbed wire, and fire pits. She did it to test her limits, and when she finished she was elated. Now she was just grimy and edgy, looking over her shoulder, sensing that trouble was gaining on her.
Needing to calm and clear her head, she went for an aimless walk through downtown, finding herself at the public library, an ornate building that was home to a bank in its earlier life. It was cool inside, the quiet comforting. She sank into a soft chair in one of the reading rooms and closed her eyes and meditated, concentrating on her breathing, shoving Dwayne to the periphery. Half an hour later, she was back on the street.
She tried Bonnie again, knowing what she had to tell her but uncertain how she would say it. When she got Bonnie’s voice mail, she called the ER, grateful that she recognized the voice of the nurse who answered.
“Emergency room.”
“Eddie, is that you? It’s Alex Stone.”
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up Alex? You looking for Bonnie?”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to reach her. You guys must be getting slammed and she’s probably tied up with patients.”
“Nope. All we’ve got is a kid with a bellyache and an old lady with a twisted ankle. But you aren’t the only one looking for her.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked, her voice catching in her throat.
“Black dude was in here a few minutes ago asking for. Said he had something for her and wanted to know if I knew where she lived.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I didn’t know but that he could leave whatever it was with me and I’d give it to her, and he said no thanks, he was the only one who could give it to her.”
Alex struggled to keep her voice under control. “Do you know where she is?”
“Not my day to watch her. You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just in a hurry. Can you page her and ask her to call me right away? Tell her it’s urgent.”
“Sure thing.”
Alex was at the entrance to the parking garage when Bonnie called.
“I know why you’ve been trying to reach me. The judge let Dwayne go. Don’t worry. I’m fine,” Bonnie said, hurtling her words at Alex, not giving her a chance to say hello.
Alex leaned against the exterior wall of the garage, relieved that Bonnie was okay but not surprised at the chill in her voice.
“How could you possibly know? I just left the courthouse an hour ago.”
“Because the hospital’s director of security got a call from the police warning them that Dwayne had threatened me. He summoned me to his office so he could tell me the good news and promise me they’re going to protect me from that fucking asshole client of yours.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, is right. I was in his office when Eddie paged me and told me about your call and the black guy who came looking for me and who wanted my address and who I assume was Dwayne.”
“I feel terrible.”
“About what?” Bonnie asked, her tone sharp as a scalpel.
“About what happened and that you had to hear it from someone else. You must be furious with me.”
“You aren’t the one who let him go.”
Alex dreaded telling Bonnie that she was the one who had asked the judge to release Dwayne. She’d leave that confession for later, after they’d polished off a bottle of wine.
“What are they going to do? The security people, I mean.”
“The police emailed a photograph of Dwayne and it’s being circulated to all the hospital’s guards. And they’re putting a guard in the ER who will walk me to and from my car.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes, it is, in the same way fixing a broken leg is good except that not breaking your leg would be even better.”
“I know. I get that and I’m really sorry. Tommy Bradshaw says that the police will have a patrol car keep an eye on our house.”
“Swell. The neighbors will be thrilled.”
Alex bit her lip. This was Bonnie at her angriest. Cold, clipped, and distant.
“You sound so calm.”
“Would you rather I fell apart in front of my colleagues?”
“No, it’s just that-”
“Forget it. We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Alex struggled for something to say. “Just be careful. Please.”
“Great advice. Thanks,” Bonnie said and hung up.
Alex pressed against the concrete wall, crunched her eyes, and massaged her temples. An image flashed in her head of Dwayne straddling Bonnie, forcing her legs open, one hand over her mouth, so real she jumped into the middle of the sidewalk, gasping, her heart thumping. Bonnie was safe at the hospital. Alex knew that. But once Bonnie headed for home, all bets were off.
Whatever did happen, she accused herself, was on her. Though Alex understood that wasn’t true in any rational sense, she understood just as well that the rational had little chance against the combination of fear, guilt, and anger boiling her insides.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go back to her office, because she’d have to explain to Robin Norris everything that had happened, and why, in spite of that, she had to continue to represent Dwayne. It was an argument she knew she wouldn’t win. As if on cue, her phone rang again. Caller ID said it was Robin. Alex ignored the call, sighing when the ringing stopped and her phone beeped, flashing a message on her screen that she had one missed call and one missed voice message.
“Crap,” she said, turning the phone off and stuffing it in her pants pocket.
She thought about going home and having the first of several stiff drinks. She didn’t believe in finding courage in the bottom of a bottle, but it would take the edge off. And leave her borderline incoherent, giving Bonnie another reason to be angry and, worse, disappointed at her weakness. Scratch the impulse to get drunk.
There was only one thing she could think of doing. Find Dwayne. Talk to him. Tell him that she knew that he’d threatened Bonnie. Tell him that the police were giving her round-the-clock protection. Tell him that Rossi was looking for an excuse to put a bullet in him. Tell him whatever it took to convince him to stay away from Bonnie and hope he’d let something slip that she could use to get him convicted for the Chapman and Henderson murders. Tell him that she was looking out for his best interests. Be his lawyer. Lie to him. And if none of that worked, do whatever it took to protect Bonnie.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hank Rossi had a plan, and step one was to ignore Mitch Fowler. The idea that a gang of minimum-wage hospital guards could protect Bonnie Long was a joke, almost as big a joke as hoping a patrol car would slow-roll past Bonnie’s house at the exact moment Dwayne Reed was kicking in the front door.
Step two was to go to Truman Medical Center and have a face-to-face with Dr. Long, a reality check in case she had any doubts about who and what she was up against. He’d lay it out for her and give her a choice. Listen to him or be the next name on Reed’s list.
Step three was a come-to-Jesus with Dwayne. He’d poke and prod him until Reed’s manly pride got the better of him. One swing at Rossi and Reed would be back behind bars. Problem solved until some shit-for-brains judge let him out again. At least that would give him time to build a strong enough case against Reed to convince a jury to throw away the key.
