Shelf Ice (3 page)

 
Sue started to pour coffee into some heavy, worn mugs. Waving her off, Molly said, “None for me, thanks. I’m coffeed out.”

“We need your help,” started Ray.

“What’s Brenda’s condition?” Molly asked.

Ray studied Molly’s face as he answered, noting her anxiety. “She’s had major trauma to the head. They’re trying to stabilize her. Her condition is extremely grave.”

“Are they going to operate?” she asked.

“They are still assessing her injuries and conferring with a neuro unit in Grand Rapids.
 
There’s a question about whether it would be better to fly her there.”

Ray waited, allowing his words to sink in.
 
He watched as Molly’s eyes filled with tears.
 
He pulled a box of tissues from his desktop and slid them toward her.

“We need your help, Molly,” he said after a few moments. “You need to tell us about Brenda. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt her?”

Molly moved around in her chair, pulling her body out of a slouch. She looked at Ray, then at Sue. “Brenda is my best friend. I’ve known her since ninth grade.”

 
“Was she in trouble? Did she have any enemies?” Ray asked.

“No, no to both questions. Brenda is a wonderful person. I don’t think she has any enemies.”

“How about lovers, current or ex?” Sue asked.

Molly was silent for a long moment, and then answered, “I don’t think so. She didn’t have those kinds of relationships. She didn’t pick that kind of men.”

“Is she in a relationship now?” Sue asked.

“Not in the romantic way.”

 
“Explain,” prodded Sue.

“It’s someone who’s been in and out of our lives for the last 20 years. We prepped together at Leiston School and were in the same class.”

“Does this someone have a name?” asked Ray.

 
“He wouldn’t have done this; he’s completely harmless,” Molly answered.

 
“And his name is?” Ray asked.

“Tristan Laird.”

“Interesting name,” Ray observed. “Where do we find him?”

 
Molly squirmed; she looked uncomfortable.

“How do we locate him?” Ray asked again, rephrasing his question, his voice firm.

“That’s hard to say.”

“Why?” asked Ray, annoyance showing in his voice.

“It’s just that,” started Molly warily, “he lives in lots of places.
 
He’s got an old trailer off Dead Stream, out in the swamp. Sometimes he stays there. And he’s got a tree house on some family property over near Lake Michigan that he also uses all year. And in the real bad weather he sometimes stays with Brenda for a week or two.”

 
“Like now?” Sue interrupted.

“Yes, but he sort of comes and goes. You never know about Tristan.”

 
“Look Molly, we’re trying to find out who did this, and you are being evasive. Do you think Tristan attacked Brenda?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to explain. No, that’s not possible. Tristan just isn’t right. We all look after him. He was injured in a climbing accident years ago, one of those closed head things. He looks normal and makes sense some of the time, but he’s in a different universe. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Sometimes he lives in his trailer, or his tree house, or under a tarp in the deep snow. But the thing you really have to know is that Tristan is harmless. And he’s also sort of paranoid. If he thinks you’re looking for him, he might disappear into the woods for weeks. He’s afraid of police or anyone in authority.”

“You’re suggesting that he might be camping out in this weather?” asked Sue, incredulously.

“Let me explain. After college, before he was injured, he spent years as an Outward Bound instructor. He is absolutely unfazed by the weather.”

“So do you think Tristan was there when Brenda was attacked?” asked Ray.

“I really don’t know. I hope not,” replied Molly.

“You are going to have to help us find him,” said Ray firmly. “How about her family, parents, siblings?”

“Mother lives in Grosse Pointe, she’s a lawyer. Her father was a doctor; he died a couple of years ago. She’s got two brothers, both are docs. They live in Ann Arbor.”

“Molly, I’m going to ask you this question again. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Brenda?” Ray asked.

“No. I’m at a total loss. She was such a kind, generous, giving person. I can’t think of anyone who would want to harm her.”

 
“How was it that you were texting with Brenda in the middle of the night?” asked Ray.

“I know we’re not supposed to take personal phone calls, but nothing was happening, not for hours. Brenda is a night owl; she often works most of the night and naps during the day. We were just chatting. I won’t get in trouble for this, will I?”

“When you got this message from Brenda, how did you know she wasn’t joking?”

“She wouldn’t joke about something like this. And I texted her that help was on the way. She knew I was treating this as an emergency.”

Ray sat for a moment, lost in thought. “Molly, we are going to have to talk even more. Right now I want you to help Sue with names and phone numbers so we can contact her family.
 
Can you stay and do that?”

“Yes, I’d like to help in any way. I just need to call my mom, she looks after my son when I’m working.”

“Call your mother, and then meet Sue in her office. That will give Sue and me a few minutes to go over a few things. Before you go, could you look after Brenda’s dog?”

“I’d love to, but my son has allergies.”

They waited until Molly had closed the door after her.

“Are you all right?” Sue asked. “You’re looking sort of green.”

Ray didn’t respond to the question. “Molly knows a lot, and she’s not giving anything away. We’re going to have to sit her down and get her to open up. I think she’s a little bit suspicious of us.”

Ray started to pull himself out of his chair. Suddenly he felt very unsteady. Sue slid the dog to the floor, grabbed Ray’s arm, and guided him back to his seat. The world became fuzzy and slowly slipped away.

5.

The next time Ray was fully aware of his surroundings he was being rolled toward the automatic doors of the hospital emergency wing.
 
He was quickly moved into a treatment area, where medics pulled a curtain around his bed, removed his shirt, and applied sensors to his chest. He looked around at the team working over him, men and women in plum scrubs.

“Are you with us?” a middle-aged woman standing at his side asked.

Ray nodded, then said, “Yes.”

“Good. Would you give me your full name, age, and date of birth?”

 
Ray, looking at her, gave her the information. He could see that she was keying his answers on a notebook computer supported on a small, rolling stand.

“My notes from the EMTs say you were having chest pains. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Are you having some pain now?” she asked.

“Yes, and I’m feeling dizzy.”

“On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate the pain?”

Before he could answer someone else asked, “We’re going to start an IV. Is that all right?”

Ray nodded toward the voice, then looked into the gray eyes of the woman who asked about the pain. “Five or six. It’s been bothering me for a while. It’s just getting worse.”

“And you were in some kind of accident earlier?”

Ray nodded.

“When was that?”

“About three this morning.”

“And you haven’t been checked for injuries earlier, is that correct?”

Ray nodded. Looking straight up into a large, round light, he could see people moving around him.
 
“The person I was with came in by ambulance. His name is Ben Reilly. I’d like to know how he’s doing.”

“Right now the focus is on you. I want you to chew these baby aspirin. Then we’re going to sit you up briefly and have you wash them down with a few sips of water. Okay?”

Ray followed her directions. He chewed a handful of fruit-flavored aspirin. Then two nurses, one on each side, brought him to a partial sitting position. He was given a sip of water from the small paper cup.

“Swallow it all down,” the first nurse ordered. Then they brought him back flat on the bed.

Saul Feldman, Ray’s internist and close friend, came into view on his right. He felt Saul’s hand squeezing his upper arm.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having office hours right now?” Ray asked.

“It’s my day off. Since I can’t play golf in this weather, I thought I would hang around the ER and see who they dragged in.”

 
“He needs to get a life,” came a second voice.

 
Ray focused on the person next to Saul. He recognized Hannah Jeffers, the new cardiologist.

“Now what?” asked Ray.

“We’ll do some blood work and tests, keep you under observation, and then see if we can find out what’s going on,” said Saul. “You were in some kind of accident earlier?”

Ray told him about the encounter with the snowplow.

“And you didn’t come in to get checked out?” asked Saul.

“I was feeling fine, and there were things to do.
 
What’s going to happen now?”

“Once I go through a few more things here, I’ll turn you over to Dr. Jeffers,” said Saul. “And when she’s through with you, we’ll find a few other tortures to put you through.”

“I can’t be here all day,” protested Ray. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Today you’re mine,” said Saul. “Think of it as a wellness day. You’ll probably be spending the night with us, too. So get used to it and relax.

• • •

Exhausted and aching, Ray spent the day being rolled around the hospital for one test, then another, including hours in nuclear medicine, having isotopes injected into his bloodstream followed by the imaging of his heart.

Along the way, Saul Feldman found him and provided an update on Ben Reilly’s condition. Ben’s right arm and lower right leg had been casted, and his skull had been scanned to check for cranial bleeding. He was going to be kept in the hospital for a few days for observation.

In the late afternoon Ray was rolled into the room where he was going to spend the night; all he wanted to do was sleep. But before he could doze off a nurse, a slightly built man who appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s, came in and began checking his vitals and explaining each step to a young woman who Ray assumed was a student nurse. Before they were finished, Saul Feldman was at his bedside.

“How are you feeling?” Saul asked.

“I’m really tired, but feeling much better. And other than a sigmoidoscopic exam, I think I’ve had every test this place offers.”

“We’ll scope you after you’ve had dinner,” laughed Saul. “We saved the best for last. Hey, times are tough. When someone comes in with a valid Blue Cross card, we’ve got to make the most of it.”

“What have you found?” asked Ray.

“I haven’t had an opportunity to talk to Dr. Jeffers since they finished with you. I’ve just looked through the early test results and things look pretty good. Although, there were several comments that you present a pretty battered body, lots of contusions, bruises. I only got bits and pieces of what happened before you were admitted. Would you like to elaborate?”

Ray explained the encounter with the snowplow and told about being rammed and flipped.

“During that time, did you hit any part of the interior?”

“I don’t think so, at least not initially. Between the seatbelt and the airbags, I was held fairly securely.”

“They do the job,” observed Saul, “but you can bang into them hard enough to sustain injuries.
 
So you were hanging upside down before you got out of the car?”

“Yes,” said Ray.

“Let me look at your chest,” said Saul, pulling off the sheet and, with Ray’s help, getting the gown out of the way. As he palpated Ray’s chest wall he commented, “Radiology didn’t see any broken ribs. But you do have a lot of bruising here. How does this feel?”

“Things are sore, especially on the left side,” he answered, showing obvious discomfort as pressure was put on different parts of his rib cage. “How about the fainting?”

“I don’t know what to tell you yet. It might be a medical problem that we have yet to diagnose. Or it could be something else, something quite simple. You have been under stress for many hours, I doubt if you had anything to eat or drink. Right?”

“True,” said Ray.

 
“So you were dehydrated, had low blood sugar, and you had been on an adrenaline high. Add to that you probably had very little sleep and you’re still recovering from a major trauma. Our bodies can only take so much.”

“So, if I’m okay, why do I have to stay the night?”