Gus waved her in. “I didn’t expect you back today.”
“I promised I’d show you what I had on Julian Crist. And with the day I’ve had,” Sidney said, “I could use another set of eyes.”
Sid pulled a thick file folder from her purse. It was the same information on Julian Crist that she had given to Livia Cutty weeks ago when the doctor agreed to help with the documentary. The file felt more sinister now than it had then, when Sidney hoped to find enough evidence hidden in the pages to free Grace Sebold. She placed it on his bedside table.
“That’ll be my middle-of-the-night reading,” Gus said. “Here,” he held out his hand. “I’ve been sitting too long. I’ve gotta walk. Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” Sidney said, hurrying to his side and helping him stand.
“Got the cancer bug,” Gus said. “It was me or my leg. For some reason, I chose me. I’m still getting used to this goddamn thing, but you should have seen me a month ago.”
With Sidney holding his hand, Gus took three impressive steps to his walker.
“I know it’s hard to imagine,” he said. “But what you just witnessed is as close to a miracle as I’ve ever seen on this earth. Mind if we take a stroll?”
“No. That’s fine.”
Sidney kept pace next to him as he shuffled down the hallways with the aid of his walker.
“I do better with a single crutch, but I need to learn to rely on this peg leg. And my armpit is so damn sore, I can’t stand the thought of crutches.”
“It looks like you’re doing just fine,” Sidney said.
“I’m out of here in two more weeks. That’s my goal.” Gus lowered his voice. “I can’t take it any longer with these old people in here. And the nurses have had enough of me. It’s time I suck it up and get back to my life.”
They made it to the end of the hallway and turned to conquer the next stretch of linoleum.
“So let’s hear it. You’re back so soon not just to give me the kid’s information. What did you find?”
Sidney shook her head. “I’m starting to worry that I’m going to owe you that shot of whiskey.”
* * *
They made a full loop around the unit. His first, Gus told her, while Sidney explained what she’d learned from Betty Anderson and Livia Cutty. She helped him into bed and watched as he removed his prosthesis.
“It’s starting to feel better with the damn thing on than off,” Gus said. “I feel naked.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Sidney said.
“I suppose so. Pull the table over, I want to take a look at what you brought me.”
Sidney wheeled the table close so that it rested above his bed. Gus went to work, paging through the file. In just a few minutes, he was lost in the details. Sidney let him work, taking a seat in the bedside chair and checking her voice mail. It was filled with urgent messages from Leslie and Graham. Then Graham’s final message was disturbingly calm as he explained the deadline for Friday’s episode had been missed and the network was taking steps to announce the eighth installment ofThe Girl of Sugar Beachwould not air as scheduled.
* * *
An hour later, Gus finally spoke.
“Take a look at this,” he said, pointing at a page from the file.
Sidney killed her phone and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. She leaned over the bed to see what Gus was pointing at.
“These are photos of the Crist boy’s clothes, taken by the M.E. in St. Lucia.”
Depicted in the photo was Julian’s shirt. It had been stretched out on a staging table for photography. The collar was stained red.
“The blood?” Sidney asked.
“No,” Gus said, pointing to the bottom of the shirt.
