Orchid Beach

CHAPTER

18

Holly started to change out of her uniform. “I’ve got to go to the hospital,” she called through the open door. “Can you give me a lift to the airport? My car’s there.”

“Sure, glad to. Something to do with Chet Marley?”

She came out of the trailer, buttoning her blouse. “Sort of.”

“Okay,” he said. They got into his car and drove off. Daisy sat in the backseat.

Holly was quiet, wondering what was going to happen next. Probably, Chet wouldn’t be able to talk. Never mind, at least she could let him know she was on the job.

“I hope Chet hasn’t died?” Oxenhandler said.

“No.”

“Why are you being so closemouthed about his condition?”

“Somebody tried to kill him,” she said. “They could try again.”

“They? There was more than one?”

“Didn’t Sam Sweeney tell you that?”

“No, he didn’t. He told me he knew nothing about it. Did he tell you different?”

“He said he heard the shot but didn’t see anything. He thought there were two people.”

Oxenhandler drove along quietly for a while. “Something stinks in your police department,” he said.

“How long have you thought that?”

“A while. Chet said something to me once.”

“I didn’t even know you knew him. What did he say?”

“It’s a small town; everybody knows everybody. I had a few beers with him once, about three weeks ago. We were talking about the town. I said it was a nice town. He said it was going to be nicer before he was through being a cop. I asked how it could be any nicer, and he said it could have a better police department, and he was working on that.”

“He was,” Holly said. “That’s what got him shot.”

“You know who did it?”

“No, but I’m going to find out.”

“Good,” he said. He drove to the main entrance to the hospital and stopped.

“I’ve got to pick up my car at the airport,” she said.

“You go on in and see Chet. I’ll stay here with Daisy, and we’ll pick up your car later.”

“Okay. Daisy, stay here with Jackson and be a good girl.” She got out of the car and ran up the steps to the hospital, then took the elevator to the surgical floor and went to intensive care. Dr. Green was waiting for her. “How is he?” she asked.

“Come take a look,” the doctor said. He led her into the ward. Chet Marley’s bed had been cranked into a sitting position, and he was taking soup from a nurse. He turned and looked her way.

“Holly!” he said, and he sounded weak.

“Hey, Chet,” she said, taking his hand. “How you feeling?”

“Kind of tired. Am I in the base hospital?”

“No, Chet, you’re back in Orchid Beach.”

Chet thought about that for a moment. “You got here kind of quick, didn’t you?” he asked.

“No, some time has passed since we last met. You’ve been hurt.”

He put his hand to the bandage on his head. “What happened?”

“Somebody shot you.”

“Who?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Chet shook his head. “Last thing I remember, you and Ham and I were having dinner. I hired you, didn’t I?”

“That’s right, Chet, and I came to work a few days ago. You were hurt before we could talk.”

He pushed the soup away. “Boy, I’m tired,” he said. “None of this makes any sense.”

Dr. Green spoke up. “We’d better let him get some sleep. You can talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Chet said, closing his eyes. The nurse lowered the bed, and he seemed to drift off.

Holly left the ward with the doctor. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Except for his memory loss, he seems to be recovering.”

“Is he going to get any of his memory back?”

“Hard to say. He seems perfectly aware of everything up until a few weeks ago, but as you saw, he remembers nothing about the shooting. That could come back to him, if the relevant brain tissue hasn’t been destroyed, but I can’t promise you it will. Come back tomorrow morning, and let’s see how he’s doing then.”

“All right. Thank you for calling me, Doctor, and let’s keep this quiet.”

“Of course. I’ll see that contact with him is limited. The nurses already know they’re not supposed to talk about him.”

“See you tomorrow,” Holly said, shaking his hand. She took the elevator downstairs and walked out to the car. Daisy was in the front seat now, her head in Jackson’s lap.

“I see you two are getting along,” Holly said. “Backseat, Daisy.” Daisy jumped into the backseat.

“We did fine,” Jackson replied. “She’s very nice when she’s not threatening to tear my throat out. I hope she doesn’t sleep with you.”

“She does,” Holly lied.

“Oh. How’s Chet?”

“Can you keep your mouth shut?”

“It’s one of the things lawyers do best. If we talked, the world would tremble.” He started the car and headed for the airport.

“He’s awake and talking.”

“That’s great! Who shot him?”

“He doesn’t remember that part—nothing, in fact, since our last meeting, when he hired me.”

“That’s bad news,” Jackson said. “Is his memory going to improve?”

“Nobody knows. I’ll come back to see him tomorrow and see how he’s doing.”

“Do you really think they might try again?”

“If they thought he could identify them, they’d have to.”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” Jackson said, “that they might find it convenient for you to be dead?”

“Yes,” she said. “Somebody had a go at me very recently.” She told him about the incident with the gas bottle and the parachute flare. “But I can take care of myself,” she said finally.

“I hope you won’t mind if I help,” he said.

“And how would you do that?”

“I’ll just keep an eye on you, mostly in the evenings.”

She was surprised at how much the offer pleased her. “I think I could get used to that,” she said.

“Who do you suspect in the department?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t know who to suspect. When you told me about the gun in the van, I thought I had Hurd Wallace cold, but it turns out that his ex-wife’s place was burgled three months ago. She reported the gun stolen at that time. The most plausible scenario I have right now is that your client bought the gun from whoever stole it.”

“You know that’s not the case,” he said.

“How do I know that?”

“Because whoever shot Chet killed Hank Doherty. Sammy didn’t even know who Doherty was, let alone have a motive for killing him.”

“Why do you think the same people killed Hank?”

“I hear things. I heard he was killed with the chief’s shotgun.”

“You heard right.”

“Well, we know Chet didn’t kill him, don’t we?”

“That’s what I think.”

“So Sam Sweeney is out of it.”

“Yes, he is. Frankly, I was afraid somebody might kill him, once he was identified as a suspect. That’s why I ran him out of town; it would be easy to hang it on a dead guy.”

“Good move.”

“I wonder where Sam’s Colt thirty-two is?” she said.

“In a killer’s pocket, probably.” He drove up to the airport terminal and stopped. “I’ll follow you home,” he said.

“Don’t bother, I’ll be all right.”

“Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I’ll follow you.” He bent down and kissed her.

She kissed him back, and she liked it. “Whatever you say, counselor,” she whispered.