She chuckled, the sound reverberating through both their bodies. At the same time, Leon’s cell phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket.
“It’s a message from Laurie. She’s on her way over. She’s gotten more information about Alan Grayson’s departure from Stillwater, and it seems likely that the investigation will take a new course.”
Chapter 15
“Alan Grayson walked into a police station in Nevada this morning.” Laurie started talking as soon as Leon opened the door. “He’d seen an online news article about the murders here in Stillwater and read that there was a police alert out for him. He’s been staying with relatives near Las Vegas ever since he left town. Apparently, he takes this sort of trip regularly. The good doctor has a gambling problem...”
Laurie followed Leon and Flora through to the family room. They took a seat on the sofa and she sat on a chair that was catty-corner to them.
“I’m traveling to Nevada tomorrow to interview him,” Laurie said. “Alan was in Stillwater when Jennifer Webster and Joy Valeski were killed. If, however, he can prove where he was when Lilith Bronson was murdered, it makes him look less likely as a suspect for the first deaths.”
Leon couldn’t help a feeling of relief. He had never been able to picture his former boss as a murderer.
“What about the allegations of malpractice against him?” Flora asked.
“A medical malpractice suit is usually a civil case. It’s generally only in extreme situations, resulting in intentional harm such as gross negligence manslaughter, that criminal prosecutions are brought. In this case, matters are complicated by the fact that two of Alan’s accusers are dead. Bradley ‘Bulldog’ Warren is pursuing a civil claim. If, as I suspect, his story prompts other patients to come forward, Alan could be facing a long and costly legal battle. But, at present, it’s not a police matter.”
“So we are back to two suspects for the murders?” Leon said. “Luella French and Vivien McAuley?”
“No.” Laurie retrieved her ever-faithful notebook from the depths of her tote. “That was my other piece of news. Remember I told you Luella French was picked up on a prostitution charge six months after she threatened you, Flora?”
“Yes.” Leon hated the wary note he could hear in Flora’s voice. He wanted to take it away and make sure it never came back.
“She was given a six-month sentence but served only two before she was released on parole. Three weeks later, she died of a drug overdose.” Laurie looked up from her notes. “You never had anything to fear from Luella. She was a sad individual who couldn’t take care of herself. She certainly didn’t have the time, strength, or energy to carry out her threats against you.”
Flora slumped forward, elbows on her knees, as she covered her face with her hands. Leon slid an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side. He had to lean close to hear the words she was whispering. “All this time...”
Although she was pale, she regained her composure fast and straightened. “I’m sorry. I’ve spent a long time looking over my shoulder. It’s a strange feeling to find out there was never anyone there.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “Until recently.”
“At least the focus of the investigation is narrowing,” Laurie said. “Joe Nolan will take over while I’m in Nevada. Get in touch with him if there’s anything you need. And do me a favor. Make sure you enable the emergency function on your cell phones.”
“Already done,” Leon assured her.
When Laurie had gone, Leon drew Flora into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and stayed that way for several minutes. When she looked up, she managed a shaky smile.
“I didn’t know how much Luella’s threats had affected me until I heard Laurie say she was dead.”
“Being threatened at the trial of the man who killed your husband must have been hard,” Leon said.
“It was a horrible time. All of it. Danny’s death, the investigation, the trial...” Flora’s hands twisted in her lap and she stared down at them as though they held the clues to what had gone on back then. “But the worst part was not being able to help the feelings.”
“You mean the grief?” Leon could identify with that. The nothingness that took a hold of the soul and burdened the body. The heaviness where once there had been a heart. The ever-present, bitter taste of loss.
“That, of course.” She raised her eyes to his, and he saw a momentary hesitation in their depths. Then she plunged onward. “But there was more to it. I felt—” she sucked in a breath “—cheated.”
Leon could see how much it was hurting her to talk this way. He took her hands in his. “You can tell me.”
“I’d been robbed of all the things we should have had.” A frown pulled her brows together as she tried to explain. “And, for a while, I was angry that Danny had left me. Left us. That he’d put his job first. That he’d gone into that derelict warehouse. That he’d faced a drug dealer knowing I was at home carrying our child. Because he never got to know there were two of them.”
Those words told Leon a lot. They filled in the blanks about Flora. About her fierce independence and determination to protect her little family. About the fearful look he glimpsed in her eyes sometimes when she looked his way, particularly when they should have been at their happiest. Danny hadn’t wanted to leave her. She knew that. But deep down inside, in the part of her that was hurt and damaged by his loss, she felt he had abandoned her when she needed him most. And she was scared that it could happen all over again.
Leon could understand her fears. They had tumbled into something neither of them understood. Agreeing they weren’t ready for forever was all very well, but they both knew this
