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Vanderbilt University Medical Center
1211 Medical Center Drive
Nashville, 8:20 p.m.
Bent had spent far too much of this week eyeball deep in dead bodies and forensic reports. Every top honcho in Fayetteville politics was breathing down his neck. They seriously needed a break in this case. He hoped like hell Alicia Wilton was it.
As they waited for the elevator to the Traumatic Intensive Care Unit, he studied Vera. She had come to pick him up, but she’d insisted that he drive. Made sense. It hadn’t been that long since her concussion. She’d been on fire with the news about the hardware receipt, which she apparently had forgotten to tell him about, and the visit with the Fannings.
He loved watching her when she got like this. She was so animated and ... beautiful.
Twenty miles into the trip, and she’d crashed. She’d slept the better part of the drive.
When they loaded alone into the elevator, both choosing to lean against the back wall, she sent a glare in his direction. “I still don’t understand why you let me sleep almost the whole way.”
“You were tired.” He held back a grin. That would only piss her off. Instead he turned his head and looked directly at that gorgeous profile. “Besides, you’re going to need that rest for when I get you home.”
She rolled her eyes. He loved it when she did that, but it annoyed the hell out of her. Vera did not like anyone seeing what she was thinking, and right now she was working hard to be irritated at him, but she couldn’t work it up.
“You should be thinking about this case.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Not aboutthat.”
“I firmly believe that you are doing enough thinking on the subject for both of us.”
The doors opened onto the tenth floor, saving him from whatever she intended to blast him with next.
At the nurses’ station, Bent removed his hat and explained that the doctor had called about Alicia Wilton. He and Vera were immediately buzzed into the unit. The nurse in charge was waiting for them.
“I’m Selma Panter. I’m the nurse practitioner who works with Dr. Holden. He had to leave before you arrived, but he wanted me to fill you in.”
“Thanks, we appreciate it.” Bent was way beyond ready to hear from their one witness.
“Mrs. Wilton is doing really well for someone who sustained the degree of head trauma she did and remained in a coma for the better part of five days. Physically she is doing very well. Cognitively her recovery is remarkable. She speaks perfectly and reacts without hesitation. That said, she’s been through a lot. Her body is weak from fighting for survival, so we would prefer that you limit your time with her to about twenty minutes. We don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.”
“Does she recall the events that brought her here?” Vera asked.
“She knows her husband is dead and that she was attacked. We didn’t press for any other details.”
That was actually more than Bent had hoped for.
“So if you’re ready, you can go in now.”
“Thank you.” Bent turned to Vera and waited for her to go first.
Panter entered the room with them. “Alicia, do you remember me?”
Alicia moistened her lips. “Yes.” She looked to Vera and then to Bent. Her eyes instantly welled with tears. “Can you tell me who did this, Sheriff?”
Bent was grateful she recognized him. Though they weren’t acquainted personally, the fact that she knew the sheriff in the county where she lived was a good sign.
Bent approached the bed, Vera next to him. “Mrs. Wilton, we’re working on that. You can help by telling us what you remember about that day.”
She fiddled with the edge of the sheet folded at her waist. “We all went to the cabin on Friday. I was not happy about it, let me tell you.”
“What part were you not happy about?” Vera asked. She smiled, and Bent’s heart reacted, no matter that the smile wasn’t for him. “I’m Vera Boyett. I work with the sheriff’s office on cases like this.”
Alicia gave a small nod. “I recognize you.”
