That “but” was heavy and set itself down between them like a big lead box. “But?” Nick asked.
“But the picture.” His mouth twisted, and he covered it with the back of his wrist.
“What picture?” Nick asked.
“The picture of her with that man. That Lee Barnett. The convict.”
Nick frowned. “Wait a minute. She was with him?”
“Seems that way,” Stan said. “Vern followed her. Took pictures.”
Nick was stunned, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. Finally, he managed to whisper, “I can’t believe it.”
“I saw the picture myself.” He covered his eyes with the heels of his hands and balled his fingers into fists. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, but it’s suspicious.”
“But…the orderly. What about the orderly?”
“The hospital staff swears that everyone on shift has been accounted for, and that none of them changed the bag. But I know he was here. I saw him change it. Who was that and why does he want me dead?”
Nick searched his heart and all of his wisdom for an answer that would satisfy Stan, but he had too many questions himself. He looked helplessly at his friend, and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say, buddy. I don’t know what to do for you.”
Stan kept the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. “Tell me that my wife doesn’t want me dead,” he said. “Tell me that the baby she’s carrying isn’t going to suffer.”
“Baby?” Nick sat erect. “Stan, you didn’t tell me—”
“She just told me,” he cried.
Nick groped for the right words, but could find none. For the thousandth time since this case had begun, he sought the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, but he still felt inadequate, useless.
“I can pray for you, Stan,” Nick said, wiping his own tears. “That’s all I know to do. Just pray.”
“That’s enough.”
Nick touched his shoulder and began to pray, for answers to their questions, for peace, for truth, for healing, for restoration, for reconciliation. When the amen came, he saw that Stan was calmer. Stan removed his hands from his face and looked at him.
Nick’s heart broke. His own face twisted, and he rubbed at his jaw. “I’ve got to be honest with you, Stan. I don’t know what to do for her…but I know that she is still a member of my flock. Whether she’s innocent or guilty, she needs God. And she needs friends.”
“I don’t know if there’s some dark room in her brain that holds some deadly secret,” Stan said, “but even if she did poison me, Nick, even if she poisoned Nathan…” His voice broke and his face twisted. “Even if she did those things, I still can’t stand the thought of her sitting in jail alone…”
Nick nodded, knowing that feeling himself. “I’ll go to her tonight, Stan. She may just be a lost sheep in my flock. Jesus would have searched high and low for her…for the one lost sheep. If she did this, there’s something wrong here, Stan. Some mental illness, or something that can be explained. Or she could be totally innocent, in which case she really needs a friend.”
“Help her, Nick.”
Nick nodded. “I will. I’ll go see her when I leave here, if they’ll let me.”
“And keep praying,” Stan said.
“I’ll keep praying,” Nick promised. “It’s all I can do. It’s all I have.” Nick wiped his eyes. “If there were a fire, I’d put it out. If there were a heart attack, I know CPR. If there were a wreck, I’d use the jaws of life. For a thing like this, I just pray.”
“That’s better than CPR or the jaws of life. You’re doing fine, Nick.”
Nick swallowed back his own emotion as he got to his feet. “Get some rest, okay? Try not to think. I’ll talk to you tomorrow and let you know how my visit with Celia went.”
“All right, Nick. Thanks.”
Nick hated to leave him, but Stan’s parents returned to the room as soon as he stepped into the hall. He got onto the elevator, let the doors close, and stood there for a long moment before pushing a button. Silently, he prayed for the power and wisdom to do the right thing.
Of its own accord, the elevator began to move, down, down, down, until the doors opened on the lobby, where someone waited to get on. He stepped off, realizing that God was telling him to move, take action, get going…
He headed out to his car to do something, hoping that it was the right thing.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Why did you do it?” Jill’s monotone question dripped with suspicion, and Celia knew she was close to losing Jill’s trust.
“Because I wanted to see him.” The tears were gone. She had cried enough to fill a bayou, and now she was empty, dead, numb. She leaned on the table in the interrogation room where she’d been drilled just a few days before, and set her dull eyes on her lawyer and friend. “I wanted to tell him about the baby.”
Jill’s face changed. “Baby? What baby?”
“I’m pregnant, Jill.”
Jill stared at her for a moment, as if not sure what to believe. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. This morning the hospital called. The blood they took the other night? It was negative for arsenic poisoning, but it was positive for pregnancy. That’s why I’ve been sick.”
The merest hint of a smile tugged at Jill’s lips, and she drew in a breath. “Oh, Celia.”
“That’s why I went, Jill. I had to tell him. He had a right to know, and I didn’t want him to hear it from the police or newspapers. It’s our baby, and we’ve wanted it so much.” Though she hadn’t thought it was possible, tears stung her eyes again.
Jill contemplated that for a moment, staring at her, either assessing her sanity or her honesty. She was definitely losing her, Celia thought.
“Celia, someone poisoned Stan tonight. His IV bag had arsenic again.”
Celia’s heart jolted, and she straightened. “I was afraid of that. The nurse said the bag had been changed…”
“They think you did it.”
Her face twisted as she tried to grasp some logical train of thought. “How is he? Did it get into his bloodstream? Is he all right?”
“He’s okay. They don’t think much got in, and they’re doing what they can. He’s still conscious, so that’s a good sign.”
“Thank God,” she whispered. Then, shaking herself out of her shock, she focused on Jill again. “Did they ask him if I did it? He would tell them. I didn’t touch his bag. I wasn’t there long enough. Somebody else—”
“He claims there was an orderly there before you who switched the bags, but Sid isn’t buying. He thinks he’s trying to cover for you.”
She got to her feet in the small room and looked down at her lawyer. “Why would a man cover for someone who was trying to kill him? Stan knows I didn’t do it!”
Jill looked away. There was something else, and Celia could see her wrestling with it.
“What is it, Jill?”
Jill stood up, picked up the pencil on the table, and began tapping it on the palm of her hand. Finally, she stopped and looked her dead in the eye. “Celia, why didn’t you tell me that you went to see Lee Barnett today?”
Celia wilted. “You would have gotten angry, told me it was stupid. Same reason I didn’t tell you I was going to the hospital.”
“I would have been right.”
“I know.” She dropped her face into her hands.
“They have a picture.”
Celia looked up at her without much interest. “What kind of picture?”
“They had someone following you, Celia. They followed you to Barnett’s apartment. They took pictures.”
The fact that she’d been followed irritated her, but it didn’t surprise her greatly. They had seen someone sitting outside Aunt Aggie’s house when they’d left for the hospital. “So they got pictures,” she said. “All I did was stand outside his door and ask him questions. There wasn’t anything incriminating, except the fact that I slapped him. I guess I could be guilty of assault. But I don’
t think I was there for more than ten minutes.”
“They have a picture of you in his arms.”
“In his arms?” she shouted, springing to her feet. “What?”
Jill was silent, watching her, waiting for an explanation.
Celia didn’t have one. “Jill, you’ve got to believe me. I was never in his arms. They faked the picture…doctored it somehow. I want to see it.”
Jill nodded. “I can get it for you.”
“Do it!” Celia cried.
Jill opened the door and stuck her head out, and Celia heard her talking to someone. She sank down at the table and dropped her face into her hands. There was no way…no way…anyone had gotten a picture of her in Lee Barnett’s arms. She had been yelling at him, had slapped him…
Jill came back into the room, holding the snapshot. “Here it is, Celia,” she said, and tossed it down in front of her on the table.
Celia picked it up and felt the heat fevering across her face. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. After a moment, she brought her hand to her forehead. “Jill…you’ve got to believe me…I was so full of rage…I hit him, and he grabbed me and shook me, and I told him to let me go…He had his hands on me maybe five seconds…Not an embrace! What about the other pictures? Didn’t they get me slapping him? Is this all they got?”
“It’s the only one they’re using for evidence.”
“I don’t believe this.” She sucked in a sob. “Did they show Stan?”
“I’m not sure.”
She dropped her head into the circle of her arms. “What is he thinking about me? Oh, why is this happening?”
Jill sat down next to her and touched her hand, but when Celia looked up she could see the confusion in her lawyer’s eyes. “Celia, I don’t think they’re going to let you back out. I’m going to do what I can, but I don’t think they’re going to set bond this time.”
“You wouldn’t, if you were the judge, would you?” Celia asked bitterly.
Jill didn’t answer.
She raised up and wiped her eyes. “Look, Jill, if you don’t want to represent me, I understand. I mean, the evidence is insurmountable. You’re not even sure you know who I am.”
Jill stared at her, and for a moment, Celia was sure she would take her chance to give up the case. But Jill surprised her.
“I know who you are.” Tears came to her eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m confused, Celia. I don’t know who’s doing this, or how they’re doing it. I don’t know why there’s been so much evidence against you. I don’t know why someone would want to kill your husbands and not you—and to put you through such a nightmare yourself. I can’t imagine. I don’t know what Lee Barnett’s part was in this. I don’t know who else to trust, because I think whoever it is might be right under our nose. It scares me. But there is one thing I do know for sure. I believe you.”
Celia accepted that with tearful relief. “Thank you.” She tried to pull herself together. “No one else will, you know. They’ll alienate you, too, just for representing me. You’ll be as popular in this town as Oswald’s lawyer. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I’m up to it,” Jill said. “But you might need a more experienced criminal lawyer than I. If you’d rather hire someone else, I’ll understand.”
“With what?” Celia asked. “I don’t have any money.”
“Aunt Aggie would pay.”
“No, I want you. You know me. No one else does.”
“Okay, then.” She squeezed her hand. “Celia, are you going to be all right in jail?”
“Oh, yeah,” Celia said. “No problem. Been there, done that. I can handle jail, as long as I know it’s temporary. ’Course, it might not be.”
The look on Jill’s face told Celia that this was the first time that she’d faced such a serious case…a case that really would decide someone’s lifelong fate. She hated to give her that burden. Then she thought of Aunt Aggie, and David…
“Where are my aunt and brother?” she asked quietly.
Jill nodded toward the door. “They’re being questioned.”
“Are they going to be charged with anything?”
“Not if I can help it. Something was said about accessory to attempted murder, but I think it was just a threat. Don’t worry about them. I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t know how much more Aunt Aggie can take. She’s hardly gotten any sleep lately. She’s too old for this.”
“She’s stronger than both of us put together,” Jill said with a slight smile. “And as for their putting her in jail, they’d have such a protest by the fire department that they’d have to let her back out in time for lunch tomorrow.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Just hold on, Celia. I’m doing everything I can, okay? You may have to stay here a night or two, but maybe we can get you out before much more time passes.”
Celia had heard that before.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The moment Aunt Aggie and David had walked into the Newpointe Police Department, they were descended on as if they were criminals about to turn themselves in. They took Aunt Aggie into one interrogation room and David into another and began to question them separately about the incident. Aunt Aggie was livid.
“Yeah, I helped her sneak in the hospital, and I helped her get in that room, and if you wanna lock me up for that, then I ain’t fightin’ you.”
Vern Hargis shot a look at Chief Shoemaker. “We just want to know what happened, Aunt Aggie.”
“I tole you already. She wanted to see her husband!”
“But the judge told her not to. There was a court order.”
“Aw, she don’t care about no court order. She missed her husband. He’s layin’ in the hospital dyin’, he finally come awake, and she want to see him. You bet I’m gon’ help her.”
Vern rolled his eyes. “Aunt Aggie, there was arsenic found in his IV bag. Celia tried to kill him again.”
Aunt Aggie’s heart tightened into a fist, and she shot to her feet. “Celia didn’t poison him! I don’t know who did, but Celia didn’t.”
“Aunt Aggie, you have to admit—it’s hard to believe it was just a coincidence that he was poisoned a second time when she just happened to be there.”
Aunt Aggie’s mind raced. The answer was there—she had seen so much as she’d sat there waiting for Vern to go take a smoke. Suddenly, it came to her. “That orderly had a bag with ’im! He was carryin’ it just as plain as day. Just a few minutes ’fore I went to get Celia! Vern, don’t you remember? Didn’t you see ’im? And Celia, she was empty-handed.”
Vern looked troubled. “I’m not sure, Aunt Aggie. There was an orderly, but I didn’t see him carrying anything.”
“Why’d he have his mask on, then? That hat? I didn’t think of it then, but he was the killer! Vern, if you’da stopped him, we’d have ’im now!”
Jim got to his feet. “That true, Vern? Did you check that orderly’s identification?”
Vern shifted uncomfortably. “I saw it, Jim. He had a badge on. I didn’t stop him and examine it, but…” He looked up at Aunt Aggie. “Celia was wearing a badge, too. Where did she get it?”
“I took it,” Aunt Aggie said, lifting her chin proudly. “Stole it myself right offa somebody’s uniform at the uniform shop today.”
The two men looked at each other again as if they didn’t believe a word she was saying. “Whassa matter, you don’t think a ole lady can steal?”
“We didn’t think you were a thief, Aunt Aggie. Sue us.”
Aunt Aggie wished she had her cane with her so she could knock them upside the head. “I wanted to help her. She deserved to see Stan. She had stuff she needed to tell him.”
“Stuff about the murder attempt?”
“No, nothin’ about no murder attempt! She don’t know nothin’ about no murder attempt!”
Vern was getting impatient. “Aunt Aggie, we need your cooperation. We need you to sit down and relax, and quit ranting and rav
ing.”
“Rantin’ and ravin’? You ain’t seen nothin.’ You got my Celia locked up in jail like she some half-baked killer, and you think I’m rantin’ and ravin’?”
“Aunt Aggie, I don’t want to have to lock you up with her.”
“Do it!” Aunt Aggie challenged. “Go ahead, lock me up.” She held out her wrists for them to cuff, but they only looked amused. It made her madder than ever.
“Aunt Aggie, we’re not locking you up. However, we have to inform you that you are an accessory to a murder attempt.”
“Accessory? You don’t know what you talkin’ about. Alls I did was sit in a waitin’ room and tell my Celia when she could come in. You’re just mad cause you didn’t recognize her when she come through.”
“Yeah, I’m mad,” Vern said. “I’m mad that she poisoned him right under my nose. Call it a vendetta if you want to, but I’m gonna make sure that she goes down for it.”
Aunt Aggie kicked a chair, hurting her foot, but she would have died before she would let them know it.
“Tell us about David,” he said. “What was his part in all this?”
“He drove the stinkin’ car,” she said. “Dropped us off, come in to see where we’d come out, then sit there and waited at that exit.”
“Then he’s an accessory, too,” Vern said.
“It wasn’t against no court order for me and David to be at that hospital,” she said. “We didn’t break no laws.”
“It’s against the law to poison a man twice.”
“Didn’t nobody I know poison Stan!” She could feel her blood pressure rising, ready to explode out the top of her head. “If we’re accessories, then you’re one, too, Vern. You let the killer walk right in and change that bag, without so much as readin’ his badge. Y’ask me, you might be in on this whole thing your own self.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake…” Vern muttered. He threw his pen against the wall and stood up, aggravated beyond measure. “I’m gonna let her go, Jim. She’s just wasting our time.”
“And Celia? What you gon’ do with her?” Aunt Aggie asked.