Because I'm Watching

  “Why did she hate you so much?” Kateri asked.

  “She hated everyone. Especially her patients. Especially me. She hated having to take care of me. She hated weakness. She said I was crazy-faking it.… She didn’t understand why I would cry for my friends.” Tears dribbled out of Maddie’s eyes and into her hair. “I don’t know how she met my brother.”

  “Your brother?” This monster knew Maddie’s brother.

  “My brother and … her.” The sun’s last rays stabbed at the scene. Maddie moaned and shut her eyes. “She hoped to scare me so I would return to Colorado Springs, close to him, where he could … he hoped to make me more dependent on him, get me to write faster.”

  “Why would he want that?”

  “He was afraid that if I was independent, I would want control of my assets and someday reveal that I was the real author of the A. M. Hewitson novels.”

  Moen crowed. “I knew it. I knew you were. I figured it out!” He looked at Kateri and his face fell. “You knew, too.”

  “Yes.” Kateri didn’t feel the need to tell him she had figured it out less than an hour ago. “In a horrible way, that plan makes sense.”

  “But they didn’t win. She killed him and I’m still here.” Maddie opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to faint.” And she did.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  As soon as the plane touched down at Sea-Tac Airport, Jacob called Maddie’s cell. When Maddie answered, something relaxed in him. “You’re okay?”

  “I am.” She sounded almost chipper. “I killed the woman who married and murdered Andrew.”

  He sat straight up in his cramped seat on the plane and shouted, “What? What?”

  The flight attendants looked around. The passengers in the seats next to him leaned away.

  More quietly he asked, “How? Where?”

  “To be safe I headed toward town. She followed me in her costume. She thought she would chase me down and kill me. But I fought her. I shot her with my gun.” Maddie’s voice turned anxious. “But I didn’t use it until it was the last possible resort!”

  “Good.” Not really; he didn’t care when she had used it as long as she was alive. “Where are you now?”

  “I’m in the hospital. They’re keeping me for a few days.”

  “You’re hurt?” How hurt?

  As if it explained everything, Maddie said, “She had a knife.”

  On the plane, the chimes sounded. All around him seat belts clicked. He opened his and jumped up, bumped his head on the overhead bin, and cursed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I know.” Now she sounded a little woozy. “They gave me a shot for the pain. I’ll probably be asleep. But wake me when you get here.”

  * * *

  Jacob broke land speed records getting to the county hospital. It was after midnight when he parked, raced across the parking lot and into the quiet lobby. He leaned across the desk to the security guard. “Can you tell me where I’ll find Madeline Hewitson?”

  The guard had a badge—Jerry—and Jerry folded his arms. “I’m not to allow any reporters anywhere near her.”

  “Reporters?” Jacob glanced around. “There are reporters?”

  “She was famous as a killer and now she’s vindicated. Sure there are reporters. Other reporters. And you’re not getting in.”

  Jacob drew himself up to his full height, stared at Jerry, and said in his commanding officer tone, “I am not a reporter. I am her fiancé.”

  In a bored tone, Jerry said, “Someone already tried that.”

  Dr. Frownfelter trudged around the corner. “It’s okay, Jerry. I’ll take him up.”

  “You mean he really is her fiancé?” Jerry peered at Jacob’s departing form and called, “Sorry, man.”

  Jacob waved a hand.

  Dr. Frownfelter led Jacob down a wide corridor. “I’ve been watching for you.”

  Jacob chafed at Dr. Frownfelter’s steady pace; he wanted to run. “How badly is she injured?”

  Dr. Frownfelter turned the corner to the wing with the patients’ rooms. “That woman pretty effectively used a knife on her. If Maddie hadn’t been so angry, she probably would have been killed. But as I understand it, Maddie moved in close enough to beat on her with her baseball bat—”

  Jacob raised a fist.

  Dr. Frownfelter continued, “And Barbara couldn’t do the deliberately painful damage she wanted to inflict.”

  Jacob knew immediately what the doctor meant, and the slow anger curled like smoke in his gut. “She intended to kill Maddie, but she wanted to terrorize her first. Like all the other times, only this time with a fatal finish.”

  “After what Maddie’s been through—the slaughter in the dorm room, her fiancé’s murder, this constant harassment—it’s a miracle that girl is sane.”

  “Woman,” Jacob corrected fiercely. “Maddie deserves to be called a woman.”

  “You’re right. She does.” They stopped in front of room 116 and Dr. Frownfelter put his hand on Jacob’s arm to bring him to a halt. “You can see her now. She’s asleep. Be careful how you touch her. She fought a much bigger and stronger assailant. She’s lost a lot of blood, she has a lot of stitches, a lot of bruises.”

  “But she won.”

  Dr. Frownfelter grinned. “Yeah. She won. Come on. Just be prepared.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ve seen worse.”

  “I know. Somehow, when it’s a loved one, that never helps.” Dr. Frownfelter pushed open the door and led Jacob into a dim hospital room with a hospital bed occupied by a small, crumpled form.

  A cot had been set up against the wall; as soon as the door opened, the form on the cot half rose, gun in hand.

  Sheriff Kwinault slept in Maddie’s room. Seeing Jacob, she nodded an acknowledgment. She flopped down again and for all intents and purposes went right back to sleep.

  “Does she think Maddie’s in danger?” Jacob whispered.

  “The sheriff wanted to make sure Maddie wasn’t harassed. She could have left someone else to guard her, but she said she felt guilty for not realizing sooner what was going on.” Dr. Frownfelter scratched the day-old prickles of beard on his face. “Welcome to the club.”

  “I’m a card-carrying member myself.” Jacob approached Maddie. He tried to look her over with a judicious eye. A welter of bandages and bruises, fluids in bottles and beeping machines, and beneath it all, his Maddie, dark, tangled hair against the white pillow, dark, smeared bruises against her white skin. Dr. Frownfelter was right. Seeing her like this … Jacob wanted to gather her close. He wanted to hug her forever. He wanted to avenge her. He wanted once more to hear her say she loved him.

  His fingers hovered over her face, her shoulders, but he didn’t quite dare to touch her. Quietly he said, “I got into Andrew Hewitson’s computer. I figured out everything, but I could not figure out how that woman got her claws in him.”

  Dr. Frownfelter took him by the arm and moved him toward the foot of the bed. “Maddie said after she witnessed the stabbings in her dorm she was placed in a mental recovery facility. The deceased worked as a nursing assistant there.”

  Jacob inhaled harshly.

  “That information set off all kinds of bells and whistles for me, so I did a little digging, talked to the physician in charge of the facility.” Dr. Frownfelter lowered his voice to a barely audible rumble. “Barbara Magnusson—”

  “Magnusson?”

  “She’s been married a couple of times.”

  “And widowed?” Jacob asked.

  “At least once.” The two men exchanged significant glances, then Dr. Frownfelter continued, “According to the physician, Barbara Magnusson was dismissed from her position for tormenting the patients, specifically Maddie. Barbara disappeared for a couple of years, then she returned to the facility as a patient for … never mind the medical jargon, she was a violent psychotic bitch with control issues. Her family avoided her, but they did support her financially … for a while. Th
en they moved and left no forwarding address.” Jacob’s shock seemed to grimly amuse the doctor. “It happens more than you might imagine. The facility had funding problems, so they determined Barbara was stable enough to be released.”

  “How could they release something like her into the world?”

  “Indigent medical funding is a problem everywhere, especially at mental facilities.”

  Jacob returned to Maddie’s side and hovered again, in retrospect even more terrified for her. Returning to Dr. Frownfelter, he said, “That’s how Barbara knew Maddie’s history of mental illness and recovery. She knew specifically how to destroy her.”

  “Exactly. When Sheriff Kwinault searched Barbara’s house, she found all kinds of eye-popping electronics Barbara used to play her tricks on Maddie—poisons, drugs, needles.… When Maddie was asleep, Barbara must have injected her with hallucinogens, or perhaps she laced Maddie’s food with them.” Dr. Frownfelter flushed an angry red. “I should have paid closer attention. I should have realized.…”

  They all, every one of them, felt guilty. “No, you shouldn’t have. I looked at Andrew Hewitson’s computer. Barbara was the mastermind behind the scheme to frighten and coerce Maddie. Maddie’s own brother didn’t realize the woman was crazy until he was in far too deep, and he…” Jacob shook his head. “He was a gambler. He used Maddie’s money to support his habit. He betrayed Maddie in every way and she deserves so much more.”

  The two men returned to Maddie’s side.

  “You’ll give it to her,” Dr. Frownfelter said.

  Jacob leaned over her, touched her gently: her lips, her forehead, her poor bandaged hands. “Yes. I will.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  The click of the hospital door woke Maddie, and she watched as Sheriff Kwinault slipped out into the corridor and shut the door behind her.

  Maddie’s throat and lips were parched, her body ached in ugly ways. But fast on the heels of her own discomfort she remembered—she had killed the monster. It was morning, the sun was shining, she had all her body parts, and Jacob was coming home.

  No, he was home. There he sat, slumped in the chair beside her bed, his head dropped to his chest while he snored heavily. He looked worn out, but in a good way—not as thin, not as grim, less like a man on the brink of death and more like a guy who had traveled the country in search of clues that would save her sanity … and her life.

  She was glad. She’d had enough of death and fear and nightmares. She hated to wake him, but she needed water. “Jacob,” she whispered.

  At once, he was on his feet. “Maddie! You’re awake!” He blinked in that manic way people did when they want to look attentive. He got his eyes really open, smiled, and leaned over her. He stroked her hair back from her forehead and whispered, “You’re alive.”

  “I am.” She touched his cheek with her bandaged fingers. “How am I?”

  “Early this morning, before he went off duty, Dr. Frownfelter examined you and said you’re doing surprisingly well for someone who got into a knife fight and lost a lot of blood in the process. How do you feel?”

  “Like someone stabbed me too many times. And once is too many.” She felt proud. She had made a joke.

  Jacob didn’t seem to think it was funny. He got a pucker between his brows and asked, “What do you need? What can I get you?”

  His concern made her forget her thirst. “You. Just you.”

  Cautiously he pressed his lips to hers. Not hard. It hurt a little. But enough to let her taste him and let him taste her. He seemed to need that. As did she. “I love you so much,” he said.

  “I know you do. I love you, too.” This time she wasn’t using the words to distract him or saying them because she might never see him again. She said those words from the fullness of her heart and the knowledge that they could now plan a future.

  “You faced your monster.” He was proud of her, irate with himself for not being there for her, angry that that bitch had tried to kill Maddie, and proud all over again. His Maddie was a fighter, and never again would she fight alone. “You defeated your monster.”

  She smiled, smug and pleased. “Yes. I did. She’s dead, and I will never let another monster into my life.” Her eyes narrowed. “No one had better ever pick on our kids, or I will take them down.”

  Their kids. Sure. Why not? They loved each other, and more important, they liked each other. They understood each other. They might not always agree—in fact, they would not—but when the world judged them unfairly, they would face that world together. “Children. I like children. But I won’t live in sin. We have to be married.”

  She waved an airy, white-bandaged hand. “That’s easy enough.”

  He laughed out loud, a comfortable laughter that lifted all his burdens. “You don’t know my family. We’re Greek Orthodox, we’re close, there are a lot of us, my mother loves to plan get-togethers, she loves to cook. I’m the prodigal son returned from the brink of death and madness.”

  Maddie looked troubled. “Are you trying to say we have to have a wedding?” She made it sound like torture.

  He didn’t so much laugh now. He chortled. “Such a wedding!”

  Her eyes got big with horror, then timid with hope. “But I don’t have any family and you said Andrew left me in debt. The bride’s parents are supposed to pay.”

  He brushed that away. “You’re alone in the world, so of course my family will take you to their collective bosoms and treat you as their own. Which they would do whether or not you are marrying into the family, but marrying me makes you special. Did I mention I’m the only son? And the youngest child?”

  She examined him out of the corners of her eyes. “Are you serious? Is that a big deal?”

  “In a politically correct world—not at all. For my mother and older sisters—oh, yes. But don’t worry. All you’ll have to do is pick out the china pattern and show up in a white dress.” Actually Maddie was going to be up to her eyebrows in wedding decisions. But she was weak from loss of blood and he wanted her to marry him. So, being a sensible man, he lied. Or rather, prevaricated. Yes. That sounded so much better. He prevaricated.

  “If I have to, but”—she put her bruised fingertips on his arm—“before the wedding, can we enjoy some occasional moments of sin?”

  “Sure. We can do that.” He would have had a rough time resisting.

  “That’s very sweet of you.” Her lashes fluttered.

  “Damn it, woman!” He put out his palm as if to hold her away. “Not now. Not here. Not until you’re better.”

  “Of course. You don’t think I’d suggest anything as improper as a romp in the hospital bed?” Clearly she was making fun of him.

  He broke a sweat anyway. “Tease.”

  “Me? No, you’re the one standing over me, all manly and handsome.”

  She made him feel manly and handsome, and he wondered uncomfortably if that was why his father worshipped and indulged his mother. Perhaps Jacob suffered from the Denisov genetic defect of being happiest when pussy-whipped.

  Maddie said, “With you distracting me, I forgot. My mouth is dry. Please may I have some water?”

  He offered an ice chip.

  She patted the mattress next to her hip.

  He seated himself gingerly, trying not to jar the bed. Again he offered an ice chip.

  She took it eagerly, and with an expression of ecstasy, let it melt in her mouth.

  He reminded himself she was severely injured and the ecstasy involved frozen water. He offered another chip.

  “How soon can I go home?” She took the chip and sucked on it.

  Severely injured. “Three to five days, barring complications.”

  “Could be worse, I guess. I could have lost the fight.” He must have flinched, because she gently patted his chest. “It’s okay. Everything came out perfectly. Remember what I said about being ruined?”

  “I’ll never forget it.”

  “I’m not ruined anymore.”

  He thought
about it—about the trip, his conversation with Mr. Caron, his successful detective work. “You’re right. And neither am I.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Maddie had been given water and food, insisted on having her hair brushed, had her bandages changed, cried about her brother, chatted animatedly about killing the monster, and passed out cold in the middle of having her face washed.

  God, Jacob loved her so much.

  When he was sure she was sleeping and would be for a while, he wandered out into the corridor. He stood in the bright glare of fluorescent hospital lights, pulled out his cell phone, and called his parents’ house.

  His mother answered.

  He said, “Hi, Ma, it’s—”

  “Jacob,” she said, and burst into tears.

  Oh, crap. His mother was crying.

  His father was going to kill him.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  When Kateri knocked on the door of Mrs. Golobovitch’s apartment, she heard Lacey barking, an insistent demand that Mrs. Golobovitch open the door. Mrs. Golobovitch did so and Lacey danced around on two paws, expressing her pleasure so exuberantly that Kateri experienced an upswell of love. With the Madeline Hewitson case solved and the election behind her, she could spend time with her dog, she could somehow figure out her love life, and she could look for a job. After the past few days, that agenda seemed like a snap.

  “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go to work.” She opened the passenger door for Lacey.

  The dog jumped in.

  Kateri gave Mrs. Golobovitch a grateful wave, took a long time to thoroughly indulge her dog with petting while explaining the events that had kept her away overnight. “It’s all good. This morning when I left Maddie’s hospital room, I checked in with the nursing staff on Maddie’s condition—satisfactory!”

  Lacey gave an approving bark.

  Kateri continued, “I told Jerry at the security desk to continue to keep the reporters at bay!”

  Lacey got positively ecstatic about that.

  “And I got into my patrol car and came to get you, the sweetest, smartest dog in the world!”