A chill swept through her. Mindy didn’t like it, either.
The nurse walked up just then. “Your mother is ready for you. She’s sitting out in the garden.”
They rose, and Jax walked her to the glass door that opened into the shady courtyard in the center of the complex.
“You want me to come with you?” he asked.
“My mother wouldn’t know if you were there or not. I won’t be long. I’ll meet you back in the lobby.” She left him there and followed Mary out into the sunshine. It was slightly breezy, the wind shifting through the branches of the trees.
“She’s had her breakfast,” Mary said, rolling the chair a little deeper into the shade beneath the tree. “Maybe you could finish the book you’ve been reading to her.”
Mindy nodded. Mary had set the book on the wrought-iron bench at the base of the tree, a Jane Austen novel,Emma. Mindy felt a pang. Her mother used to love romance novels. Sitting silently in the wheelchair, Ellen Stewart had aged far beyond her fifty years, her hair now white as snow, her skin deeply lined and nearly translucent.
“Hello, Mom.”
Her mother didn’t look up, didn’t even move, just stared straight out into the garden. A never-changing smile curved her lips. For an instant, Mindy’s eyes misted. It never got easier. Seeing the person her mother had become, trying not to think of the vibrant woman she had been before the accident ten years ago. Mindy had been a senior in high school at the time.
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on something more pleasant, the warm day, the soft breeze, the rustle of leaves on the branches overhead. Thoughts of Jax crept in. He was waiting for her in the lobby, there to keep her safe.
A calmness settled over her. Jax was there. She’d be okay. She took a deep breath, sat down on the wrought-iron bench, opened the book and started to read.
CHAPTER NINE
JAXWATCHEDMINDYthrough the glass door leading into the courtyard. He could see her lips moving as she read to her mother, occasionally reaching over and very gently touching the white-haired woman’s hand.
It made his chest feel tight. He’d never had a family; his dad left when he was ten, and his mom suffered from depression, and was hooked on alcohol and prescription drugs. He tried not to think what it might be like to have someone as caring as Mindy in his life.
He sighed as he waited for her to finish, pulled out his cell and phoned Detective Gunderson. “It’s Ryker. I need you to bring me up to speed on the Ryan Shipman murder.”
“What’s Shipman got to do with you?”
“Probably nothing, but I need to make sure. I’ll let you know if it amounts to anything.”
Gunderson filled him in on what the cops had so far. “ME’s report’s not final, but Shipman took three shots from a .45 caliber, two in the chest and one in the head. He was severely beaten before he was killed, and they cut off his little finger.”
“Looks like they wanted something more than just making him dead. Information, maybe?”
“Could be,” Gunderson said. “Shipman had a gambling habit. Word is, he’d recently run up a big debt, and his bank accounts were low.”
“So whoever he owed likely killed him.”
“I don’t know. Hard to get money from a dead guy. There’s something about it that doesn’t feel right. CSIs are still working on the scene. I’ll let you know what we come up with.”
“I’d appreciate it, Walt.”
“By the way, we found the van. It was parked in a vacant warehouse. Interior was set on fire, but the van wasn’t completely destroyed. We might find something useful. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
“You keeping an eye on the girl?”
“You can bet on it.”
He hung up the phone when Mindy walked out, a little surprised he was standing by the door, close enough to watch over her, not waiting in the lobby. She’d get used to it. He planned to keep her safe no matter what it took.
His gaze ran over her face. He didn’t like how fragile she looked. “You okay?”
She nodded. “It always takes me a while to get past it. I’ll be all right in a few minutes.”
