“Find Darcy. Once I tell him about the evidence, he’ll come after me for the tape, which is why I should store it in a safe place.”
“I’ll find the safe place.” She dropped the cassette in her purse. “But go ahead and tell Darcy you have it.”
“To prove I really am on your side, here.” Theo handed her the letter, sketch, and keys. “Be careful, Casey. With or without this evidence, Darcy’s not finished with you until he has the money.”
“I’m not finished with him either.” She opened the door. “What’ll you do with Darcy when he comes after you?”
“Turn him over to the police.” Theo stood. “I’ll let you know when that happens.”
Casey watched him leave. She sat there a few minutes, thinking about everything Theo had said and wondering if he really would go after Darcy. Finally, she stood and headed back to the waiting room where she found Barb slumped in a chair and looking haggard.
“I’m still waiting to see him,” Barb said. “Maybe you should go home.”
“I can’t.” Casey reached for her hand. “Not yet.”
She left the room and started to look for her phone until she remembered that it was probably still with Lou, or in his apartment. She’d have to find a public phone to call Rhonda. She’d need to call Stan, too, to let him know why she might be late for work tomorrow.
• • •
Casey didn’t know what time she fell asleep in the hospital’s alcove, but when she awoke, the clock on the wall showed five-thirty; a new day. With her ears ringing and a migraine forming, Casey shuffled back to the Sheckters’ waiting room. Chairs were occupied with sleeping people, many of whom she’d met at barbecues, Christmas parties, and weddings.
Barb smiled wearily at Casey and stepped out of the room. “I’ve seen him,” she murmured. “They took the bullet out and the doctor said he’s doing well.”
“Will he be okay?”
“They’re cautiously optimistic. The next twenty-four hours will tell the story.” She hugged Casey. “I have a good feeling about this, so please go home and get some sleep. I’ll call when you can visit.”
Casey didn’t move. How could she crawl into a comfy bed and leave Lou here?
“I’ll call, I promise,” Barb said.
She gave her another hug and then returned to her family, leaving Casey to wander down a corridor. A sign pointed to ICU straight ahead. Casey walked toward the unit. At the end of the corridor, the wide double doors identified Unit Four. Each door had a narrow pane of glass covered by a burgundy curtain. She tried to peer through the curtains.
“Can I help you?” a woman asked behind her.
Casey turned to find a nurse watching her with curiosity. “I have a friend in ICU, but I’m not sure which room. His name’s Lou Sheckter.”
“I’m afraid only family can visit patients here.”
“I know. His mom said Lou’s doing well. Is that still true?”
“He’s young and strong, that one.” The nurse patted Casey’s shoulder. “Hang in there.”
The nurse pushed a large button beside the entrance and walked between the opening doors that exposed beds and equipment. Curtains hid patients’ faces. She wanted to run inside and look for Lou; even took a step forward, but the doors closed. Reluctantly, Casey left.
At this time of morning, traffic was light and she was home in fifteen minutes. The whole neighborhood seemed at peace, as if nothing awful had happened here. Casey tiptoed through the quiet house, relieved that Rhonda wasn’t sitting here, expecting an update. She just didn’t have the energy to talk right now. In her apartment, she swallowed a couple of painkillers, shoved the sketch, letter, and cassette under her pillow, and then collapsed into bed.
Three hours later, the rumble of a muffler-less car woke her. Since her head didn’t hurt as much, she got up and called the hospital. All they would say was that Lou was still alive. Casey made herself a coffee, dialed Lalonde’s number, and got voice mail yet again. Why didn’t that man ever answer his damn phone?
“Detective, it’s Casey Holland. I’ve been given some evidence that proves my father was murdered three years ago, and I was wondering if you could come by to pick it up. The evidence makes it clear that Darcy Churcott killed Dad, so please call me.”
The sight of yesterday’s bloodstained shirt on the floor made her queasy. She needed to keep busy. Maybe talk to Mother about Dad’s murder. She found the business card Mother gave her and then dialed the number. No answer there either. She tried Mother’s work number and was informed by a receptionist that Mother wouldn’t be in today. Damn it. Was she home or not? One way or the other, she’d find out. Casey retrieved her lock pick set from the top of the fridge. Afraid to leave the evidence here, she shoved it all in her handbag.
Rhonda was sliding a sheet of cookies into the oven when Casey entered the kitchen.
“They’re chocolate chip, Lou’s favorite,” Rhonda said. “How is he?”
“I just called. He’s alive, but that’s all I know.”
“Are you going back to the hospital?”
“After I search Mother’s place.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, Rhonda, if a neighbor calls the police or Darcy’s there, we could be in serious trouble. Summer needs you safe here. How’s she doing?”
“Still shaken about Lou. I told her she didn’t have to go to school today, but she wanted to.” Rhonda paused. “I explained what I could about Darcy to the principal. Staff will keep an eye on her and I’ll pick her up after school.”
“Does she know he shot Lou?”
Rhonda nodded. “She’s handling that part better than I am.”
“Summer’s a tough kid.”
“Glad one of us is.”
Casey headed for her car. After a trip to her safe-deposit box, it took twenty minutes to reach Mother’s condominium. Three more seconds to spot Krueger in a car opposite the building’s entrance, and his head turning as she drove past.
Twenty-six
WHY WAS KRUEGER here? Casey found a parking spot half a block away. She turned off the engine and looked around. It was no surprise that Mother lived in one of Vancouver’s trendier areas. The factories and warehouses once dominating Yaletown had been transformed into upscale condos, restaurants, and shops in what were now called heritage buildings.
Casey put on her sunglasses and ambled down the sidewalk. Might as well get this over with. Smiling, she approached Krueger, who was slouched behind the steering wheel.
“Hi, there.” Casey leaned down to the open window. “Who are you waiting for?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Krueger replied. “Go home.”
“Did you find Darcy?”
“No.”
“Maybe he’ll pop by to see Mother. Is Detective Lalonde watching the back entrance?”
“Go home, Miss Holland.”
“If Mother’s inside, she’ll talk to me, not you. She really hates cops.” Krueger’s blank expression was getting on her nerves. “I left a message with the detective about some evidence I received this morning.”
“He’ll call you when he’s free,” Krueger said. “Better get going.”
“Since I came all this way, I’ll grab a coffee from the shop around the corner first.”
She marched away before Krueger could respond. Maybe Lalonde wasn’t here after all. Still, someone else could be watching the underground parking and back entrance.
When she reached the other side of the building, Casey pulled on a hat from her bag, then removed her
