“I hope so.”
She watched as they all filed out of the room, and David led them to the door. She could hear Aunt Aggie telling them all not to rush off, but they did, anyway.
Celia sat staring at the table, trying to work out what she would do, trying to think of the pros and cons, trying to measure the consequences.
In moments, both Aunt Aggie and David were back in the kitchen. “You awright, sha?” Aunt Aggie asked.
She was getting tired of that question, so she ignored it. “I’m going to see him.”
Aunt Aggie looked at David, and David pulled a chair out and sat down across from her. “What about the guard?” he asked.
“I’ll get past him somehow,” she bit out. “This might be my only chance. I have to go while his parents aren’t there.” She looked up at her Aunt Aggie. “The guard is Vern Hargis, Aunt Aggie. He’s a chain smoker, isn’t he?”
“Well, yeah, he is, but—”
“So I’ll hide in the stairwell and watch until he goes out for a smoking break. I have to tell Stan about the baby,” she said. “I have to tell him that I love him and that I didn’t do it. I could look in his eyes and know that he believes me. I could see for myself that he’s all right…”
“I’m goin’ with you,” Aunt Aggie announced.
Celia looked hopefully up at her. “You will?”
“I might can help. Let you know when Vern sneaks off.”
The first hope she’d felt since she’d heard Stan had opened his eyes blossomed inside her. She looked at David. He was staring at the table, thinking.
After a moment, he met her eyes, still contemplating, working it all out. “We have to think this through, Celia. If they catch you, they’ll assume that you came to finish him off. What if his parents change their minds and come back? What if a nurse comes in? What if that guard comes back before you expect him to?”
Her heart was pounding with anticipation. “I have to take the chance that his parents won’t come back. But you gave me an idea. I need a nurse’s uniform. If I have one, I can pretend to be a nurse. Of course, if Vern sees me, he’ll know it’s me. But if he’s there when I come out, maybe I can get past him without looking at him.”
David nodded, still concentrating. “All right, then. I’ll drive you. That way I can wait in the car close to an exit, and we can drive away before anyone spots you.”
“Sure you want to be an accessory?” she asked.
“Celia, you’re my sister. I’ll do what I can to make sure it doesn’t turn out as bad as it could. Just promise me you won’t take any stupid chances or get so anxious that you do something you’ll regret.”
“I promise.” She threw her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek, then stood up to hug Aunt Aggie.
“I’ll go t’ Slidell and buy a uniform,” Aunt Aggie told her. “Maybe a wig for me, so’s I can set in that waitin’ room and Vern won’t recognize me. I’ll take off all my Mary Kay, and slump over like some ole lady. Get me a cane and some o’ them ole lady shoes.”
David grinned at her. “You’re enjoying this a little too much, Aunt Aggie.”
She slapped playfully at him. “You hush. We got to do it right. Now, Celia, you go on up and take a nap while I’m gone, so’s you’ll look purty for your husband. Don’t wanna go with no swollen eyes and red nose.”
Celia smiled. “Okay, Aunt Aggie. I’ll do that.”
She started out of the room. Behind her, she heard David say, “We’re all probably out of our minds.”
Aunt Aggie laughed with delight as Celia started up the stairs.
Chapter Thirty
Aunt Aggie had come home with enough paraphernalia to start a life of crime. Already she was practicing walking with the cane and a pair of brogans that, as far as she was concerned, gave the elderly a bad name. And she’d gotten Celia a nursing uniform, and had even purloined a security badge so she’d look like a bona fide employee.
“Where in the world did you get this?” Celia asked, studying the badge.
Aunt Aggie’s eyes danced with delight. “I was down to the uniform shop, and a nurse come in t’ try on a new uniform, and when she got undressed, she hanged her other uniform over the door. The sales lady, she warn’t lookin’, so I moseyed on over and seen it was for the Slidell Hospital, so I jes’ unclipped the badge…”
“Aunt Aggie, you stole it!”
Aunt Aggie seemed quite proud of herself. “I borried it. I plan to give it back. On our way outa the hospital, you can drop it somewhere. Somebody’ll get it back to her.”
She looked down at it again. The woman in the picture had red hair and glasses. “Aunt Aggie, I don’t look anything like her.”
Again, Aunt Aggie’s eyes danced. “Look a-here,” she said, digging into a bag. She pulled out a red wig and a pair of wire-framed glasses, just like the woman in the picture wore.
Celia laughed. David tried to hold back his smile, though he wasn’t doing a very good job. “I think it’s official now. She really is crazy.”
“Vern won’t recognize you. You could prob’ly even go in right in front o’ him. He’d never even know.”
“Maybe that won’t be necessary,” she said. “Maybe he’ll go smoke. But if he doesn’t, we’ll have plan B.”
“So when are we going to perpetrate this unfortunate act we’re planning?” David asked.
“After visiting hours,” she said. “That way I can be sure his parents will be gone.”
“All right,” he said.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Aunt Aggie said as she put the supplies back into her bag. “We got somebody outside watchin’ the house.”
“What?” Celia asked, her eyes shooting back up to Aunt Aggie.
“Yep. Sittin’ a ways down the road, thinkin’ I’m too dumb to know, but I seen him. T.J. Porter, I think. Readin’ the paper when I come by, like he always parks his car on the side o’ the road to read the paper.”
“Do you think he’s following her?” David asked.
“Prob’ly. I ain’t seen him before now.”
Celia dropped the badge and covered her face with both hands. “Oh, no. What if he followed me to Lee Barnett’s apartment?”
“Lee Barnett’s?” David returned. “Are you telling me that you went to Lee Barnett’s?”
“Yes,” she said. “Earlier when I borrowed your car.”
“Are you asking for trouble? Celia, what were you thinking?”
“I wanted to look him in the eye and find out why he was doing this to me. I wanted to know if he’s the one who poisoned Stan…and why.”
He dropped his face on the table, as if giving up. “I can’t believe this. It’s hopeless.” He raised his head back up and braced his elbows on the table. Looking at her through splayed fingers, he said, “Okay. Let’s just hope that no one did see you. It won’t look good, Celia. The very guy they think you tried to off your husband for, and you’re seen going in his apartment?”
“No, I didn’t go in.”
“What in the world did he say?”
“He said he didn’t do it. That he was framed, too. That someone is setting us both up.”
“Yeah, right.”
She sighed. “He seemed genuine. But it’s hard to tell with him. I don’t know him anymore. I don’t know how he’s changed since prison.”
David went to the front window and looked out onto the street. “Well, okay, so you went to Lee Barnett’s, you might have been seen…Well, we can’t do anything about that now. But we definitely can’t let them follow us to the hospital. So we’ll go in my car, and I’ll take my suitcase out there like I’m leaving, put it in the trunk. But how will we get you in the car without him seeing?”
“We’ll get in before you open the garage door. We’ll duck down, and then you can open the garage and make a fuss over loading your suitcase. Since the garage is attached to the house, he won’t know we ever came out.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
“We can do
this,” Celia said.
David released a long breath, then shook his head again. “I hope Stan will appreciate it.”
Stan was exhausted by the time his parents left that night, for a steady stream of visitors had come through to visit him. For much of the time, he’d lain there with his eyes closed, too weak to make conversation. The visitors had seemed satisfied just to see him.
Now, visiting hour was over, his parents were gone, and he felt more alone than he’d ever felt. He wanted Celia. If she were able, she would spend the night here with him, look after him, fill his loneliness. He couldn’t understand why Judge DeLacy would have kept her from that.
An idea came into his mind even as defeat seemed to rush in, and he glanced over at the phone on his table. It was too far away, and he didn’t think he could get up enough to reach it. If he could just get to it…
A nurse breezed in, carrying a tray of medications. “Are you awake, Mr. Shepherd? I would have thought you were sleeping.”
“In a minute,” he said. “Listen, could you hand me the phone? I can’t reach it.”
“Sure,” she said. She rounded the bed and set the phone on his pillow. “How’s that?”
“Great,” he said. “Thanks.”
Humming, she breezed out again.
His heart began to flutter as he picked up the phone and dialed out his home phone number. She couldn’t come to him, but no court order said that he couldn’t call her. He waited for the first, second, third rings…
Finally, the machine picked up. His own voice greeted him. He hung up.
Where was she?
Aunt Aggie’s, he thought. Of course. She would have stayed with Aunt Aggie, since there was a killer out there somewhere, and she was, no doubt, depressed and upset, and Aunt Aggie would nurture and pamper her.
He dialed the old woman’s number. It rang once, twice, three times….
There was no machine, so he waited, thinking that they might be avoiding phone calls since they were probably getting hate calls and the press was probably hounding them. Oh, how he wished he could clear her of this quickly, so that people would leave her alone. He dropped the phone in its cradle and sank back into the pillow. He wanted so badly to talk to her. If only there was someone he could send, to ask her to call him.
The preacher, he thought. He could call Nick. Nick would help him. Surely, he knew that Celia hadn’t done this. He could count on him. Besides, he could use a little spiritual guidance.
He dialed the number, and Nick answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, man,” Stan said, knowing he didn’t sound like himself. “I hope it’s not too late, but I need to talk.”
“Stan?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Nick began to laugh. “You feel well enough to call me and talk? Man, our prayers are being answered, brother. I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Believe it,” he said. “Listen, Nick. I need a favor. I need you to get a message to Celia.”
The plan for getting Aunt Aggie and Celia into David’s car worked perfectly, and as they drove past the car parked down the street, they knew that he hadn’t followed them. He was still watching the house, where lights were on, thinking that Celia was inside.
As they reached the Slidell Hospital, Celia began to tremble. This wasn’t going to be easy. “How will you know where to pick us up?” she asked.
“I was just thinking about that,” David told her. “What if I go in with you and find the stairwell you’ll be coming down? I can park next to whichever exit you’ll be coming out.”
“Good idea. But you’ll have to park, and we’ll have to walk across the parking lot.”
“I’ll drop you off at the main entrance, and you head straight for the first stairwell you see. I’ll meet you there after I park. And Aunt Aggie can go on up, okay Aunt Aggie?”
“I’m ready,” the old woman said. Celia looked back at her and chuckled at how old she looked. She had donned her curly gray wig and glasses, and she was wearing a loose-fitting frock that she would have never been caught dead in.
“Aunt Aggie, do you think you’d look like that for real if you hadn’t had that face-lift?”
“Never,” Aunt Aggie said. “I take too good care o’ myself.”
They reached the hospital parking lot. “We’ll go up and make sure which exit is closest to Stan’s room,” David said, as if thinking out loud, “and then I’ll move the car.”
He pulled up to the front entrance, and they both sat there for a moment.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked.
“Yes,” Celia said. “I’m sure. Thanks, David. We couldn’t have done this without you.” She got out of the car, and Aunt Aggie got out, too. Not waiting for what appeared to be the decrepit old lady, she headed inside and around the hall behind the elevators, where she saw an exit sign. Quietly, she slipped into the stairwell there. There was an exit door right there, at the foot of the stairs, and she sat down on the bottom step and waited.
In just a few moments, David stepped inside. “Okay, let’s go up,” he whispered. “Aunt Aggie said Stan’s in 306. We’ll see how close this stairwell comes out.”
They climbed three flights of stairs, then peered out the rectangular window on the third floor. “This room right across the hall is 310. I think this is as close as we’ll get, don’t you?” she asked.
“Probably,” he said. “Okay, so you wait here, and I’ll go move the car to this exit at the bottom of this stairwell. Remember, Sis, don’t take long with him. Get in, say what you’ve gotta say, and get out.”
“I will.”
She watched as he trotted back down the stairs. Then she turned back to the window and waited for Aunt Aggie to come and tell her when Vern left for a smoking break.
The waiting room was almost empty this time of night, but no one paid Aunt Aggie any attention as she sat there where she could see right up the hall to Stan’s room, where Vern Hargis had sat for the past hour reading a magazine.
He was getting nervous, jumpy, she realized, because he was shaking his foot and doing a two-fingered drum roll on his leg, and when he finally discarded the magazine and got up, she knew they were about to hit pay dirt. But where would he go?
She tried to see past him, down the hall. Was there a balcony somewhere that he could step out on? A window he could lean out of? A bathroom he could smoke in?
She saw an exit sign, and a door opened from the night. A nurse came in, holding her own cigarette pack, and Aunt Aggie’s heart leaped.
“Don’t you need a smoke, sha?” Aunt Aggie whispered under her breath.
As if he’d heard her, he looked longingly toward that exit. He seemed to consider whether he could smoke out there while still guarding the room. Her heart was hammering, and she fought the urge to yell for him to go on, smoke that cigarette, and hurry up about it.
But then her plan was thwarted when an orderly dressed in surgical scrubs ambled toward Stan’s room.
“How ya doin’?” he asked Vern, and Vern nodded. The man pushed on in.
Aunt Aggie sat back in a slump, wondering what they were going to do now.
Chapter Thirty-One
Since you don’t pay me overtime, you don’t care if I go home now, do you?” Jill’s secretary, Sheila, asked from the doorway of her office. “I mean, I could do like you and work around the clock, but like I said, I don’t get overtime.”
Jill didn’t have time to trade quips with Sheila. She’d been going over depositions from the Nathan case and was too deep in concentration. “Sure. You can go home.”
“’Cause it’s after dark, you know.”
“You were late coming in,” Jill said, finally looking up at her.
“I figured you’d be sleeping late, since you’ve been working so hard.”
“Even if I had, the phone would still need to be answered, Sheila, and there’s lots of work to be done.”
“Did you realize you didn’t wear
makeup today? I can’t figure out if it makes you look older or younger.”
Jill set her pen down and leaned back in the chair, staring at the woman. Sometimes she just wanted to throttle her…or worse…fire her. But she had done it once before only to find that there wasn’t anyone else in town as qualified as she. She’d hired her back with the stipulation that she get an attitude adjustment, but apparently Sheila hadn’t taken that too seriously.
“What?” Sheila asked, as if innocent of offending her boss.
“Did you expect me to respond to that, Sheila?”
“No, I was just making an observation.”
“Thank you. I didn’t wear makeup because I forgot. I had too much on my mind.”
“Older, I think,” Sheila finally decided. “Has Dan seen you like that?”
Jill turned the page of the deposition and began reading again. “Good-bye, Sheila.”
The woman backed out of the room, and in moments, she heard the front door close. She was gone. Jill got up and stretched, then went in to the bathroom connected to her office and looked in the mirror. She did look awful. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t worn makeup, but she’d had all those questions about Celia on her mind…Sheila was right. She did look older. Old and unmarried. And if Dan saw her this way, he’d be even more repulsed then he’d been by her behavior last night.
She heard the door open and close again, and she went back to her desk, not wanting Sheila to catch her looking in the mirror. She didn’t want Jill to have the satisfaction of thinking her comment had bothered her.
But it wasn’t Sheila who appeared in the doorway. It was Sid.
“Got somethin’ for you, Jill,” he said.
Jill didn’t want it. Whatever it was, it had to be bad news, and she wasn’t up to it. She just stared at him.
He crossed the room and dropped a 5 x 7 snapshot down on her desk. “Now tell me Celia ain’t guilty.”
Jill looked down at the snapshot. Her face fell. It was of Celia and Lee Barnett, standing close with his hands on her arms. “What is this?”