Better Read Than Dead (25 page)

“Yeah, okay, I will, but let’s get you to the airport first,” I said, picking up my coat and moving to the door.

“Wait a second,” she said as she sorted through the bags and luggage she’d hauled to my office. “Here. I bought you something.” Cat shoved a very large shopping bag at me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Danielle and I went shopping today, and I didn’t want to carry too many bags home, so I bought you a few things to add to your wardrobe.”

I looked at the shopping bag Cat held out to me, and in spite of all the tension of the day I smiled. “Thanks, honey, that was really sweet of you.”

“You’re going to return everything in that bag, aren’t you?” she asked, looking hard at me.

“Probably.” I grinned. If I knew my sister, I knew that she’d put all the purchases on her credit card, and if I returned all the items her card would be reimbursed.

Cat sighed heavily and said, “Will you please consider just taking these gifts for a change?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you buy me stuff all the time, and I’m not in a position right now to return the favor, so it makes me feel a little weird when you’re so generous. . . .”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Get over it already, will you?”

“Can we talk about this in the car? I don’t want you to be late,” I said as I put the shopping bag in the other office, out of sight, and turned out the lights.

Cat threw up her hands, recognizing my dodge tactic for what it was, but followed me out the door anyway. I was sure there was more grilling to come on the way to the airport, but at least she was talking to me again.

We stepped out into the hallway, and as I turned to lock the door Cat sucked in a breath and whispered, “He’s still here.”

I turned and looked to where she’d indicated, and sure enough Goon was standing at the far end of the hall as if waiting for us to come out. My intuition began buzzing, and for some reason I felt very fearful for Cat’s safety. I turned to her and said, “Cat, listen carefully to me; take my keys and go to my car. If you go down that hallway”—I indicated behind us—“it will take you down a back staircase and out the north side of the building. You can circle around and get to the parking structure from there.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not leaving you!” she hissed at me.

My intuition buzzed even louder, and hairs began standing up along my arms; Cat was in danger. “This is not open for negotiation!” I insisted, getting right in her face. “You will go to my car immediately, and if I’m not there in five minutes call nine-one-one, but you need to go
now
!” Even though I was keeping my voice quiet, my tone suggested I meant business.

Cat looked at me with surprise—it was very rare that I stood up to her—but she was still waffling about leaving me. “What are you going to do?”

I blinked a few times, thinking fast. I had no idea what I’d actually do, but after a moment I said, “I’m going to talk reasonably with the guy and give him another reading on the house. If he’s still dissatisfied, then I’ll refund his money.”

“He looks mean,” she said, sneaking a look to the end of the hall.

“Him? Nah, really, he’s all bark. Trust me; I’ll take care of it. Now go to the car quickly!” I insisted as my intuition gave me another buzz about Cat’s safety.

I shoved Cat behind me and pointed my finger hard in the direction of the back elevator. She gave me one last look of apprehension, but walked away. When she was far enough down the hallway I approached Goon with fisted palms and major attitude.

“Cute sister,” he said with a snort when I got close.

“She’s not my sister,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“She said she was your sister.”

“That was just to get by you.”

“She sure looks like your sister . . .” Goon pressed; he wasn’t about to let go.

“Dude, she’s like six inches shorter than me and naturally blond. We are
so
not related. Besides,” I said, going for a change of subject, “it’s none of your business who’s related to me and who’s not. You need to back off, because I’ve been patient with you people and now I’m ready to go to the police. . . .”

Goon laughed heartily. It was an ugly, guttural sound. “That’s a good one, Cooper. I’d like to listen in on that conversation.”

“You think I’m kidding? You think I’m pulling your leg? Well, let’s just see how funny it is when I talk to my good friends down at the department. . . .” I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, flipping it open and pressing the on button. I sneered at Goon as I prepared to dial the number, when my phone unexpectedly went off and I nearly dropped it.

Goon was startled too, and he abruptly stopped laughing. I looked at him for a moment, and he looked at me; then I answered the phone with a tentative “Hello?”

“Abby? Are you all right?”

I let out the breath I was holding and said, “Yeah, Cat, no problem; we’re just negotiating the terms. I should be there in a minute or two.”

“Well, perhaps you can direct me to your car; I can’t seem to remember where your parking space is—oh, thank you!” She giggled.

I was confused for a moment, but heard a man in the background say, “No sweat, cutie.”

“Cat? You there?” I asked, confused as to whom she was talking to.

“Yes, I’m here. The most gorgeous man just held the door open for me; I swear, you have the best-looking guys in this town. So where is your car?”

“On the second floor, northwest side in the reserved parking area. Where are you?”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s down one flight. Okay, well, don’t take—
Gulp!
”

“Cat?” I said, not understanding what she’d said. “Cat? What did you say?”

“Cat! Cat? Are you there?” My ear was firmly pressed against the earpiece of the phone as I strained to hear what was happening. It sounded like my sister had just put her hand over her mouth. Then I heard a clatter, and I knew Cat had dropped the phone. Reflexively I looked to my left out the window that faced the parking structure. Two things hit me immediately: Karen Millstone had parked her car in the parking structure the night she was murdered, and that had happened exactly one week ago tonight—Thursday—the night of the rapist.

“Cat!”
I shouted at the top of my lungs into the phone as I started running down the hallway.
“Cat! Talk to me! Cat!”
Mounting panic raced through my veins,
“Move!”
I said to two people who were coming up the stairs and blocking my panicked flight down.
“My sister is being attacked!”
I shouted as I shoved past them.
“Catherine! Catherine! Answer me!
” I wailed into the phone as my feet shuffled down the staircase. I couldn’t seem to make it down the stairs fast enough; I was trying to hold the phone, listening to an awful struggle in the background as my sister fought for her life. She was gurgling and trying to catch her breath, and the sounds were coming more and more faintly.

As I reached the lobby and turned toward the front door an arm grabbed my elbow, and Goon whirled me to face him. “What floor is she on?” he asked forcefully.

I looked at him, not comprehending, tears streaming down my cheeks and total terror filling my heart as I frantically tried to push past him to get to Cat.

“
What floor of the garage is she on?”
he shouted, and shook me by the shoulders, forcing me to cooperate.

“The third floor! She’s on the third floor!”
I screamed.

The next few moments happened as if in a dream. Goon bolted through the doors and ran faster than any man I’d ever seen. He dodged through traffic and charged up the stairs of the parking structure. I ran after him but couldn’t keep up. “Cat!” I continued to scream, my voice clogged with emotion,
“Catherine, please, God, answer me!”

I reached the parking structure and bolted to the staircase, screaming my sister’s name and sobbing my terror as my legs pushed up the stairs as fast as I could make them go. As I rounded the last flight and pushed through the door of the third floor, I saw Cat some twenty yards away, bleeding badly from her head, and held in Goon’s arms. I ran full-tilt to her, pleading with God that she was still alive. Goon placed her gently in my arms as I furiously looked for signs of life. She was breathing, and I sank with her to my knees, sobbing into her hair and rocking back and forth as I held her, my terror making me oblivious to almost everything else.

I became aware of sirens screaming up the parking structure, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Goon looking shaken as he tucked something blue into his overcoat. Then I watched helplessly as he got up with one last look at me, then darted around a pylon and was gone.

A moment later a patrol car arrived and an officer hurried out and crouched next to me. He tried to take Cat from my arms, but in my terror I fought him and wailed my agony. Finally Cat was coaxed from my grip and I was helped to my feet, but I sank down again, as I didn’t have the strength to stand.

Then Milo was there, and he was helping me up, lifting me into his car and securing me in place. I couldn’t stop crying as I sat puddled there, shaking uncontrollably and praying to everyone I could think of to help my sister.

We arrived at the ER mere minutes later. As I leaned on Milo I was ushered down a short hallway and placed on a gurney. A doctor came over and wiped the blood from my hands and face, checking for injuries, as he asked me questions, but all I could do was plead with him to help my sister.

Someone handed me a pill and a small paper cup of water. It took a moment to understand that they wanted me to take the medicine. I finally obliged my caregivers, and within a couple of minutes I was able to stop crying, and even though the world seemed slightly disconnected, it was still better than feeling like I was coming apart at the seams.

A little while later Milo reappeared around the curtain sectioning off my gurney and smiled kindly at me. “Hey, there,” he said.

“Is she okay?” I asked no louder than a whisper. My voice had gone hoarse.

“They’re still checking her over. Do you want to wait out here with me?”

I nodded and got up off the gurney, shuffling over to him. Milo wrapped a protective arm around me and guided me to the waiting room just down the hall.

We sat down in the cushioned chairs and I looked dully at my feet, I couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, and although this should have troubled me, it didn’t.

“Can I get you anything?” Milo asked me after a while.

I shook my head no.

“Mind if I grab something?”

“Go for it,” I whispered.

Milo got up and disappeared down the hall, and I closed my eyes against the world. A few minutes later I felt something nudge my hand, and I opened my eyes to see Milo pushing a cup of hot cocoa at me. I smiled weakly up at him and took the cup. The warmth of the liquid felt good against my cold hands.

“Not now,” Milo began, “but later we’ll need you to give a statement.”

I nodded dully, grateful that he wasn’t pressing me for details tonight.

I had no idea how many minutes ticked by—my sense of time was all confused—but finally a tall, good-looking doctor approached us. He squatted down in front of me, and right away I liked him. “Miss Cooper?”

I nodded.

“I’m Dr. Burton. I’ve been tending to your sister.”

Dr. Burton had a pleasant face, and large brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He smelled of aftershave, and his smile was full of gorgeous white teeth. “Is she okay?” I asked.

“Well, she got a pretty good knock on the head, and her throat’s a little bruised, but overall I think she’ll make a full recovery.”

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and reached a hand out to Dr. Burton’s arm. “Thank you,” was all my beleaguered voice could manage.

“Would you like to see her?”

I nodded vigorously and Dr. Burton led me down the hallway to another curtained bed. He pulled the sheet slightly away and stepped back, saying, “I’ll give you a couple of minutes with her; then she’ll need to get her sleep. We’ve given her a pretty aggressive sedative, so she might not make a lot of sense right now.”

I nodded and shuffled past him but stopped just short of the bed.

I’ve never thought of my sister as fragile. Even though Cat’s small, she’s feisty. But with her lying there in her hospital gown, with her hair matted, a large gash pulled together by ugly stitches over her right temple, and horrible bruises ringing her neck, I was taken aback by her sudden delicateness. Carefully I moved forward and took her hand, lifting it gently into mine. Her hand was warm, and this gave me more reassurance than any doctor could.

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at me, a slow, painful smile spreading along her lips, but never reaching her eyes. “Hey,” she said weakly.

“Shhhh.” I scolded. “Don’t talk. Rest, and we’ll talk later, okay?”

Cat grunted and closed her eyes. Within moments she was asleep again.

A few minutes later a nurse came in and subtly told me that it would be better to let Cat rest quietly. I shuffled back out to the waiting room, and over to Milo.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, getting up and wrapping his protective arm around me again.

We walked over to his car and he drove me to my house, neither of us saying a word. He parked in front, and as I reached over to grab the door handle Milo stopped me and asked, “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

I stopped and looked back thoughtfully at him. There were two phone calls that only I could make. One was to my brother-in-law, Tommy. “No, just my brother-in-law, but I think it’s better if I call him. Thanks, though . . .”

“Sure. You going to be okay by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m just really tired. I’ll call Tommy and then catch some sleep. When do you want me to give a statement?”