Dear Marty,
I am confused. Daddy said you abandoned me. He said he spoke to your folks, and they told him you wanted a clean break. I don't understand why, but I guess this note will be enough. Tomorrow, the polls say Daddy will be elected Governor. We will be moving to Des Moines.
Marty, I'm pregnant. I'm not quite sure why the condom didn't work, but since you’re gone, at least our baby is a piece of you I can hold on to. Daddy is very angry and insists on homeschooling me. He told me I can't keep our baby, not unless I get married. Momma cries a lot. He said the publicity will be terrible, and I'm an embarrassment. A conservative governor's daughter cannot be an unwed mother. The thought of giving our baby away makes me sicker to my stomach than I already am.
So, I planned, by Thanksgiving, if you refuse to reach out to me, I will agree to marry Lewis. The thought of him touching me makes me sick. He promises to give our baby a name in return for a job working for my father. I feel so hopeless. Tell me what I did to make you hate me. I'll never stop loving you.
Elizabeth
Hatred toward Talbot Reed filled his heart. A small trunk rested tucked behind a pile of shoe boxes. He crawled into the back of the closet and opened it. Grouped by date were years of diaries. His organized Sunshine made things easy.His Sunshine.The feelings he denied all these years bubbled up. He dated women but never wanted to make a permanent commitment. Warning bells went off in his head picking up the books from 1998. His own eyes became damp hurting for her. Pain morphed into fury again. This time, he wanted to kill Lewis James.
December 15, 1998
Yesterday was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but it was a horrible scary dream. I married Lewis in Judge Harrison's chambers. His parents and mine took us out to dinner. Both families bought us a beautiful home in Des Moines as our present. Lewis walked into my bedroom and grabbed me, and when I fought, he punched me. He reminded me I am his wife now, and I must forget about Marty fast. He pushed my face down and forced me.
Martin relocked and replaced the book. The most recent edition was under her pillow. He rifled through the pages, starting from around the time of Alma Reed's death.
January 10th
Joyce showed up on my doorstep today and threatened to kick the door in. I had not showered in days. She almost drowned me in the tub. I should’ve let her. Death is better than this. I showed her Momma's letter, and she wants me to try to find Marty. Time doesn't go backward. I hurt enough for both of us.
Martin couldn't read any more; he needed to fix this. As he put the diary back inside the chest, his phone rang. Julian had information to give him, and he listened in silence.
"Mon frère, Dr. Randall Knox was murdered between 21:00 and 24:00 hours. They found him naked in bed, his throat slit by a thin, straight, sharp blade. The search turned up a bloody scalpel, a straw marked with red lipstick, a latex glove, and a pair of woman's panties. They also found biological material under his nails.
"Very early this morning, Detective Young was at the hospital posing questions about Knox and if anyone had an issue with him. One name kept coming up. Residents said she argued with him the day Austin was shot. Someone in the OR went as far as saying the fight continued during Austin's operation, escalating when she threatened Knox. I'm trying to find out more.
“Staff also said she accused Knox of killing Viola Dufour. Her secretary heard a screaming match in her office. They also obtained statements from patrons at a bar where he drank quite a bit in the hours before he died. Knox told a packed taproom Wonder Doc was ruining his career. Hospital personnel confirmed he used that nickname for Dr. Reed. Martin, they’re moving fast—too fast. They act like they have a list of evidence to seize. Tell me, do you want me to assign a tandem investigation?"
There was no other answer. "Yes. Jule, send me a picture of Knox. I overheard a conversation when Austin was in surgery. It might connect to this. I'll explain after I see it."
"All right, we’ll start. You’re sure you want the answers?"
"No, but that would be a foolish route to choose. Also, run a background check on Lewis James—Elizabeth’s ex-husband. I'm heading to the Silverton police department now. From what you told me, I don't think SPD has enough for a search warrant—unless she confesses."
Martin opened her purse. Inside he found a tube of red lipstick. On impulse, he put it in his pocket. There was no way he was going to let the cops prowl through Elizabeth's personal life. The diaries and letters fit into his trunk.
Chapter Eight
Patrick "Viper" Hedges, thirty-nine years old, former Air Force combat controller, six-feet-two, two hundred pounds, stood at the foot of Austin's bed. With vibrant green eyes and tousled hair the color of caramel, he resembled aGQmodel more than a critical care MD. The facility director from Chase Medical's Health Center in Denver, PA Seth Brady, stood beside him. "You just missed Martin."
He nodded. "This morning, I spoke with Beth Reed. The strategy is to wean him off ECMO tomorrow. I don't think I would take the chances she did. In fact, I can give you fifty justifications not to. I also think she's the only reason he's alive. Hey, Austin, my name is Pat. I'm going to examine you."
Completing the exam, Patrick stripped off his gloves. "Keep your eye on the bleeding, tweak what you need to keep him tolerating ECMO. I'll call physical therapy to start passive exercise, but otherwise, we will hold to Beth Reed's plan. I want to start ingratiating myself to the other staff."
"Don't worry, Austin is under control. Our other PA took the flight after yours, and the others should arrive after one. The unit's head nurse, Tommy Kline, is helpful." His eyes turned back to Austin.
Forrester and Pellegrino accompanied Elizabeth to a small room in the station where two men in shirtsleeves and slacks stood waiting for her arrival. "Dr. Reed, thank you for coming in this morning. I'm Detective Sergeant Paul Young, and this is Detective Sergeant Danny Logan."
Elizabeth sat in the wobbling chair Young pulled out for her. "I wasn’t given a choice. They didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes or belongings. Why do you want to speak with me?"
"We're sorry; I'll speak with the officers. You are not being detained." Danny Logan blocked the door with his intimidating frame. "Elizabeth, may I call you Elizabeth?" She gave him a curt nod. "Elizabeth, we would like to speak with you about Austin Bailey."
"I can't speak about his condition. Medical history is a privacy issue. You both should know that."
"We don't want details, but we need you to tell us what happened the day Austin was shot," Young directed.
"I came in around five-thirty. As I finished closing a liver laceration, the ER paged me for Austin. He was moved to the OR at three-thirty-five. I got him to the unit ten hours later, and by two-thirty, I made it home."
