The Healer

  She closed the phone, and he offered her a lemon drop. “You’ve almost lost your voice.”

  “Close to it.”

  She relaxed. She didn’t feel a need to put into words the simple fact that she hadn’t wanted to be alone. Cole already understood.

  He broke the comfortable silence. “Jennifer called me today.”

  Rachel stiffened. She knew she should have figured out how to make it to the hotel today. “What’s wrong?”

  “Relax.” He eased her back into the chair. “Her recovery is still pretty iffy on the pain levels. Tom wanted you to know they might admit her to the hospital for a couple days, but if they did, it would just be a precaution. A couple weeks recovering and Jen should be okay. She just wanted company between catnaps.”

  She warily looked at him. “What did you talk about?”

  He tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Besides her dog, Stephen, and what Boston is like in the winter?” He smiled. “She loves you.”

  “Well…” She’d been expecting to hear some comment about her past, and his answer threw her. “That’s good. Fine. Okay.”

  He laughed and hugged her.

  On Friday morning, Rachel walked into the hotel where Jennifer and Tom were staying, relieved they hadn’t had to admit Jennifer overnight. Tom met her at the suite door. “It’s good to see you, Rae.”

  “I should have been here yesterday.”

  “Don’t. I know what your day was like. I would have called if it was urgent.” He tipped up her chin. “I’d prescribe about ten hours of sleep and some good news.”

  She smiled at his comforting words. “School started today with over 70 percent attendance. I’ve had several hundred hugs this morning. That was pretty great. Can I borrow your wife for a minute?”

  “She’s in the bedroom. Can I get you some hot tea for that sore throat?”

  “I’d love some.”

  Rachel walked through the suite to the bedroom and leaned around the doorway to see if Jennifer was awake.

  “Hi,” Jen whispered. “I heard you come in.”

  “Can I get a hug?”

  “You can get one for as long as you like.”

  Rachel sat down on the bedside and leaned over for a very, very long hug. She finally sat back. “You look horrible,” Rachel said softly. The jaundice had grown worse in the last twenty-four hours. There was no benefit to ignoring the reality they had to deal with.

  “I don’t feel so hot today,” Jen admitted. “Doctoring takes a lot of energy.” Jen closed her eyes and rallied. She smiled and reached up to brush a lock of Rachel’s hair aside. “You’ve got gray hair coming back.”

  “It’s going to come in white this time.” Rachel kicked off her shoes and stretched out beside Jennifer on the bed. She reached for one of the huge extra pillows. Jennifer had a stack of pillows behind her to support her and three ice packs against the worst of the pain in her back. “Are you numb?”

  “It comes and goes in my legs,” Jen admitted. “It doesn’t take much swelling for it to press against a nerve.”

  “Is there anything else we can do?” Rachel asked.

  “Tom can go to even stronger pain meds if I need them.” Jennifer smiled. “I’ll get past this one. It just makes me feel kind of mushy, like my hands aren’t quite sure they want to move.”

  Rachel wished she could hide out here with Jennifer for the rest of the day. “The funerals start tomorrow.”

  Jennifer rubbed her shoulder. “You’ll get through them, Rae.”

  She wished she had that kind of confidence. “The one tomorrow is for the girl killed in the cafeteria. Practically the entire school body is going to be there, as well as the community. It will be televised.”

  “Was she a Christian?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How are her parents doing?”

  Rachel sighed and wrapped her arm tighter around the pillow. “Better than I expected. The grief is… Remember what it was like when we were fourteen and Shelly got adopted? How awful it felt that she was gone and yet how overjoyed we were that she had gotten her wish for a home?”

  “I remember.”

  “Those are the dual emotions her parents are feeling. They miss her terribly. She’s okay in heaven, but they are having to realign their entire lives without her.”

  Jen nodded. “When you have kids, you expect them to outlive you.”

  “Yeah. Are you doing okay with what you saw?” Rachel asked.

  “No.”

  She reached for Jennifer’s hand. “I thought that might be the case.”

  “I wish I had been able to do more. Kim is still heavy on my mind.”

  “The surgery went well, and she’s listed in good condition. She’s got a very close family. I visited with them last night.”

  “She was terrified. You really think she’ll be okay?”

  “I’ve got many kids on my list having a harder time coping than Kim.”

  They rested in quiet. Rachel leaned her chin against her hands. “Do you want to go ahead with the wedding date of May 19? We can move it if you’d like.”

  “This family needs something positive to look forward to. I know I do.”

  “Do we need to move it forward?” Rachel whispered.

  Jennifer held her gaze and squeezed her hand. “The nineteenth should be okay. I want to celebrate their weddings, but Lisa and Kate need time to solve this case. It should give me a chance to get my strength back.” Jen reached over to wipe one of Rachel’s tears away. “I’m ready, Rae. If God says now is the time, I’m okay with that. I haven’t given up on a miracle, but my trust has returned that God is indeed good. He knows what’s best. I saved kids, Rae.” Her smile grew. “They’ve got names and faces and it felt really great.”

  “Is Tom prepared?”

  “My husband is my hero. Tom has more courage about this than I do. He asked me to marry him knowing it would take a miracle to avoid a funeral. He’s ready because he has to be. That’s the best kind of love.”

  “He’s wading into the deep waters with you.”

  “He is.” Jennifer studied her, then smiled. “Cole is a lot like Tom.”

  “Trouble flows around him, never breaking his calm. It’s reassuring.”

  “You’re falling in love.”

  Rachel smiled back as she nodded. “And in the midst of this pressure, I’m finding out just how much of a blessing it is.”

  Rachel studied the picture Stephen was hanging for Ann Friday afternoon. “A little higher on the right. There. Good.” She was waiting for Adam to get home from school to see how his first day had gone. She had stayed at school this morning helping students, but she didn’t want to get in Adam’s space this afternoon unless he paged her.

  Assuming he would be okay was part of what made it possible for him to be okay. Treat him as overwhelmed and he would stay overwhelmed. Adam needed his routine back, his sense of life moving on.

  “Jennifer planned her own funeral,” Stephen said, returning to the tough discussion of the afternoon.

  “Ann wants the next picture hung over there.” Rachel pointed to the spot on the wall. “What did you think Jennifer was doing with her spare time?”

  “Something better than being morbid.”

  “I’ve got my funeral planned.”

  “But you think that way. Jen thinks about what wrapping paper will look color coordinated with the gift she bought.”

  “Stephen, she’s got terminal cancer. The doctors told her to go home. Without a miracle she doesn’t have much time left.”

  “Preparing for death is wishing that it would come.”

  “Denial isn’t going to make it go away.”

  He looked away and didn’t comment. Rachel squeezed his shoulder.

  “What time did Nathan go down for a nap?” Stephen asked.

  “A little over an hour ago.” She was keeping an ear open for sounds over the intercom that he was waking up. She’d offered to watch him while An
n went to get Adam from school.

  Car doors slammed.

  “It looks like there might have been some trouble,” Stephen said, getting the first look as Ann and Adam got out of the car. “Adam added another shiner to go with the one he already had.”

  Rachel set down the picture and caught up with Stephen as he headed outside to the driveway.

  “What happened, buddy?” Stephen knelt in front of Adam.

  “He called Tim a coward, so I hit him.”

  The defiance in Adam’s tone said he didn’t care if it was wrong. He was glad he’d done it.

  “And he hit you back.”

  “He’s the coward.”

  Stephen took a good look at the eye. “Nice shiner. Remember where you put the ice pack?”

  Adam nodded.

  “Go get it. You earned it. Then you’d better head to your room so Nathan doesn’t see you and start to cry.”

  Adam’s defiance faded a bit.

  “Nathan’s a little sensitive to you getting hurt right now,” Stephen said softly. “You might want to think about that next time. Protecting him is probably more important than getting people who don’t know better to think well of Tim.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Stephen hugged him. “Just get cleaned up before Nathan sees it.”

  Adam headed to the kitchen to get the ice.

  “Thanks, Stephen,” Ann said. “He didn’t want to talk with me.”

  “I should have warned him about the comments. They were inevitable. Mind if we stay for dinner?”

  “You’re welcome to. It’s—”

  “Hot dogs and Jell-O,” Stephen finished for her. “You let Adam decide since it was a hard day.”

  She gave a small smile. “But on the grill outside tonight.” Ann led the way back inside. “Thanks for hanging the pictures. It’s impossible to do by yourself.”

  “Rae helped.” Stephen put away his tools. “I’ll go find charcoal and start the grill.”

  Rachel helped Ann in the kitchen get out items for dinner. “Adam will get through this, Ann.”

  “He isn’t sleeping well. He’s restless. I find him up in the middle of the night getting himself a drink or sitting in the living room in the dark. I’ve seen him check on Nathan at night. It’s odd. Rae, it sounds crazy, but it’s like he just became twenty. He’s solemn, calm, protective. He needs to know where people are.”

  “He’s got a tender heart, Ann. He wants to make it better; he wants people around him to be okay. His world as it existed has taken a huge blow too. The sadness is a good sign, for it shows he’s admitting it hurt; the trouble sleeping—part of that is the depression he’s feeling. He went back to school without his best friend. The anger today was probably a good thing, considering. He just needs to get through it.”

  “I don’t know what I should be doing.”

  Rachel wrapped an arm around her friend’s waist and squeezed. “Just give him lots of love.” The sounds over the monitor signaled that Nathan was awake. He was talking to himself. “What is he saying?”

  Ann smiled. “Sounds like hot. Nathan wakes up talking to the world. Unlike Adam who doesn’t say much, Nathan doesn’t have that problem.” Ann went to get him.

  They took dinner outside to the patio table. Rachel was glad Stephen was here, for he gave Ann and the boys one more piece of assurance that everything would work out. Adam brought out his baseball and glove so he could play catch with Stephen after they ate.

  “What do you like on your hot dog, Adam?” Rachel asked, opening the bun.

  “Everything.”

  “A big everything like Stephen, or a small everything like Cole?”

  “A kid’s everything. No peppers.”

  “Got it.”

  She handed him a paper plate.

  He carried it over to sit with Stephen. Her brother made room for him and said something that made Adam laugh. Rachel relaxed. Adam would be okay. She glanced at her pager. It was time for her to start her evening rounds visiting kids. She made her hot dog to go. Nathan just about strangled her as the two of them exchanged a giggling good night.

  Thirty-two

  Nearly the entire school population had turned out for the funeral of the girl killed in the cafeteria. Cole couldn’t find Rachel. It took a while to search the crowds. Cole walked the sidewalk in front of the memorial wall. The students needed a way to express their grief, and it had appeared in the spontaneous memorial of flowers and cards and stuffed animals at the high school track, where she had been a member of the track and field team. Rachel never made it into the large auditorium where the funeral service was held. She had spent the time walking the halls of the church and the parking lot, talking with those who came but had been unable to get through the service.

  Unable to locate Rachel among those lingering at the memorial wall, he returned back to the church. Rachel had driven herself over early this morning, and it was possible a situation had arisen where she had left to help one of the students. She’d parked on a side street to leave the parking lot for guests. One more walk-through of the building and he would head over to check for her car. Several of those hospitalized had been able to come by ambulance for the hour-long service, and he paused as the last ambulance pulled from the parking lot for the return trip to the hospital.

  Marcus joined Cole as he made his way into the auditorium. “Rachel left about twenty minutes ago. She got a page.”

  “One of the students?”

  “Kate,” Marcus replied. “Rachel just said it was urgent.”

  “Any idea where she went?”

  “No. But given that Kate called her, it’s probably someone struggling to get through the televised funeral.”

  Cole glanced at his watch. “Marissa called. She was watching the funeral on T V. I was planning to stop by the hospital and see her. She’s having a rough afternoon.”

  “I suggest you go on. When I hear what’s going on, I’ll give you a call.”

  Cole didn’t particularly want to leave; the odds were good that Rachel would be back to walk the memorial wall again. She’d been gearing up all week to handle this day, and he’d gotten a sense in the first half hour of how intense the day would be for her. The funeral was hard on those who attended, but it was even harder on those unable to handle entering the auditorium. “Call me just as soon as you hear.”

  Marcus squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “She’s been through many days like this.”

  It wasn’t the reassurance Marcus meant it to be. Cole was still learning how to support a lady whose job required her to shoulder the weight of grief from events like this on an ongoing basis.

  “Peter, think what this will do to Clare. She loves you.” Kate leaned against the door between the garage and the house. It was getting hot in the garage. The deck of cards she was using to keep herself alert was starting to stick together. She could hear the TV through the door. Her partner had line of sight through the patio doors into the kitchen, and so far Greg and Tim’s father had shown no willingness to back away from the threat of using the gun he held on himself.

  Rachel was brought into the garage by one of the undercover cops. They were trying hard to make this look routine without squad cars in the drive and street. Two men stood in the front yard talking, idly walking the sidewalk keeping media from the house. One was walking around the backyard. If asked, they were simply there to make sure something didn’t happen after the funeral as emotions among the students ran high.

  Kate pointed to the stool against the wall. Rachel took a seat. “What’s going on?”

  “Greg and Tim’s father has a gun, and he’s having a very bad day.”

  “Is it the missing .38?”

  Kate raised one eyebrow at the question. “Oh, that would be just wonderful. Three deaths from one gun.” Kate unwrapped a piece of gum and offered one to Rachel. She accepted it and Kate saw her sister’s tension begin to fade.

  “Who called it in?”

  “His ex-wife Sa
ndy. She was over this morning to talk to Peter about the funeral arrangements for tomorrow. She called me when she left because she was worried about him. By the time I got here, Peter had already acquired the gun.”

  “The man is grieving.”

  “Tell me about it. He watched the funeral of that girl on T V, and he’s crying his eyes out.”

  “I thought you searched his house.”

  “Trust me, we did.” Kate already had the same discussion with the officer on the scene. “Wherever that gun was, it was very well hidden.”

  It was quiet inside the house, too quiet. Kate turned toward the doorway. “Peter, Rachel is here. You said you wanted to talk with her about Clare.”

  Silence met her call. Kate cut the deck of cards, the rhythm of the movement helping with the passage of time. She eventually hoped to get an answer to one of her statements. She kept the comments coming at regular intervals. She wanted to reassure him that he was not alone. He’d lost two sons, and the house was a silent reminder as he mourned.

  “Can we talk face-to-face?” The question came from Peter, tired and slow.

  “If you set down the gun and open the door, we can sit right here and talk for as long as you like,” Kate replied calmly. The odds were slim that he’d do so, but she’d take any step she could get. She moved on the stairs from leaning against the door to instead lean against the upright deep freezer.

  Her partner was on the radio seconds later. “He’s moving. He left the gun on the counter.”

  “Stand easy, people.” He wasn’t a violent man, and she wasn’t planning to treat him as such. There was a sharpshooter who had line of sight to the doorway.

  The doorknob turned.

  A glance up from the deck of cards she was cutting confirmed the man had had very little sleep in the last week and looked as though he had aged a few years. “Peter, I’m Kate O’Malley. You remember my sister Rachel.” She gave him a moment to look over and see Rae. “There are cold sodas if you happen to like orange.”

  “Those are Clare’s favorites.”