Anthony’s face told them Doug had hit the mark. Doug lowered himself into his chair and softened his voice.
“You couldn’t let that happen, could you, Scott? You’d do anything to save your daughter, so you killed Tharpe in front of the judge and a room full of witnesses, to keep Tharpe from implicating your daughter in her husband’s murder.”
Mark saw the twitch on Anthony’s face, the stark truth he couldn’t hide in his eyes. The man rubbed his stubbled jaw and brought his pained eyes to Mark’s.
“I’m not proud of my daughter’s affairs.”
There, Mark thought. He’d admitted it. It was just what they needed.
“But she’s not the one you need to be looking at.”
“Then who do you think we should look at?” Doug asked.
“Ned Emory,” he said. “That’s all I have to say.”
EIGHTY-FIVE
SCOTT ANTHONY’S BOMBSHELL ABOUT NED EMORY LEFT Doug reeling. Ned was his neighbor, and the father of his son’s best friend. He’d been put in charge of the Alabaster Road Conversion Plant and had done a good job. While Doug sometimes questioned his judgment in raising kids, Doug couldn’t imagine Ned being involved in murder. Especially not when it involved an attack on Beth.
Ned knew Beth. He’d come to her plays, laughed and clapped in all the right places, given her pats on the back.
Was Scott saying that Ned was having an affair with Melissa? What did that mean? That Ned was the one who’d hired Tharpe? That he’d tipped off the killer about Beth being at the park?
But that didn’t square up. Scott Anthony wouldn’t have killed Tharpe to protect Ned. And as Deni had suggested a couple of days ago, Anthony had premeditated Tharpe’s murder when he smuggled a gun into the courtroom, so it clearly wasn’t the crime of passion he wanted them to believe.
They summoned the sheriff, who was working that day in his Birmingham office. When he got to Crockett, the rest of the on-duty deputies showed up for the briefing.
“It’s too far-fetched to believe,” Doug said. “I just can’t see it. Ned has too much to lose.”
“People do strange things for love all the time,” Wheaton said.
Doug thought back to his visit to the conversion plant. “You know, when I was at the plant, Ned did seem real interested in what I was asking Tharpe’s coworkers. And when I asked about Melissa Tomlin . . .” He tried to play the scene back through his mind. “The guys said she came up there a lot, but not to see Clay. When I asked who she came to see, they all clammed up and looked at Ned. I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t think for a minute that they were covering for him.”
“Those guys probably fear for their jobs,” Wheaton said. “If the boss wants them to be quiet about an affair, they will.”
“It’s not like they can get fired,” Mark said. “They were drafted by the government.”
“Yeah, but they could get transferred somewhere else and have to leave their families. Besides, they probably don’t realize that the affair could possibly implicate Ned in the murders.”
“Wait a minute,” London piped up. “Why are we believing what Scott Anthony says?”
“Because he’s the guy next door,” Wheaton said. “He doesn’t fit the typical profile of a murderer.”
“Neither does Melissa Tomlin, and we know she lied. She could just come from a long line of liars.”
“It really doesn’t matter if they’re all lying,” Doug said. “I want everyone who had any part in my daughter’s attack to pay the consequences.”
“So what do we do next?” Mark asked.
Wheaton thought that over for a moment. “We get Tharpe’s coworkers in one at a time and interview them again. Find someone who can confirm that Ned and Melissa had a thing going. Interview the Tomlins’ neighbors again and see if they ever saw Ned Emory coming or going. Eventually we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
EIGHTY-SIX
THE INSTALLATION OF VACUUM-TUBE RADIOS IN CRAIG’S building caused a celebration among his employees. In his work, communication was almost as important as electricity. Before the end of the day, he hoped the emergency personnel in the area would have their own radios. Soon all the government buildings would be in communication with each other. After that, it was just a matter of time before they could restore telephone service.
Because they wouldn’t need Morse code anymore, he moved Horace Hancock to the radio. The other World War II veterans were moved to jobs that fit their experience. Though they were in their eighties, he chose not to let them go. They needed the money, and he suspected their wisdom and skills might prove to be useful in the coming days. They knew more than he did about how to do things without technology.
Not long after they’d gotten the radio up and running, Horace yelled across the room. “Craig, Senator Crawford’s on the line!”
Craig’s heartbeat tripped. He cut across the room and almost slid to a stop on the polished linoleum. He grabbed the headphones and put them on. “Senator, how are you?”
“I’m better now that we can communicate!”
Craig laughed at the faint sound of his boss’s voice. “We’re all better, sir. Have you been able to find out about the things I asked for?”
The line was cluttered with static. “I’ve been checking around, Craig. It’s going to be some time before the scanners you asked about are rebuilt. Not even the president has access to those. But I have my contact from Hope Drug Manufacturing here with me now. I’m putting Janice Goodwin on the radio.”
This was too good to be true. Craig waited, breath held, as the woman took the radio. “Hi, Craig. What can I do for you?”
He swallowed the dryness in his throat. “I’m trying to help save the life of my fiancée’s little sister.” That wasn’t quite true, but it was the simplest explanation. “We need Decadron or a generic version as soon as we can get it.” He named the other drugs that Dr. Overton had listed for him.
“I do have those drugs available in generic form,” she said. “I could send them by train if you could pay for it.”
Craig tried to calculate how long it would take him to get them by train. It would be at least two days, maybe longer, with all the stops they made. They might not have that much time. He glanced at his watch. “I could come get them.”
“Really? All the way from Alabama?”
“Yes. I could leave now.”
“But isn’t that about twelve hours each way?”
“Not if I drive eighty miles an hour.” He checked his watch. It was ten a.m. now. “I could be there in eight and a half hours, maybe less, if I can get enough gas. Could you meet me at the Senate Building at seven tonight?”
“I’ll be there,” she said, chuckling. “But I’m betting you won’t be. Oh, and don’t forget the prescription.”
CRAIG HOPED THE STATE DIRECTOR DIDN’T FIND OUT THAT HE’D ditched his job at such a critical time, nor about using the company car on personal business. He calculated that he would need eight tanks of gas to get there and back. His car held sixteen gallons. He went to the conversion plant next door and filled the car up, then filled thirteen ten-gallon containers. The plant employees assumed he needed it for government business, so no one objected. He lined the containers full of gas up on the floor of his backseat and in his trunk, knowing that if he had an accident his car would probably explode. He managed to store enough to get to Washington. Once he was there, he could fill them all up again to get back.
He ran by the hospital on his way out of town. “I’m on my way to get the drugs from Hope Manufacturing in Washington,” he told Deni. “I’ll be back by morning.”
Deni just stared at him. “Craig, can you really do that?”
“Watch me.” He took her shoulders and smacked a kiss on her lips. “Pray for me, babe.”
Then he hurried out, intent on his mission, praying that God would clear the way to get Beth the help she needed.
EIGHTY-SEVEN
THAT NIGHT, DENI STAYED AT T
HE HOSPITAL WITH BETH so her parents could get some rest, since they didn’t expect Craig back with the drugs until morning. She wished Mark could stay with her, but he’d been asked to work the night shift at the sheriff’s department to fill in for her father.
She sat in the stiff chair next to Beth’s bed, listening to the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. It was a sweet sound. The room was hot; there were no windows in the ICU, and the building had gotten up to about ninety degrees. Summer was in full swing and there was no relief in sight.
She wet a washcloth and wiped Beth’s face and neck, hoping she could keep her sister cool. The lights still flickered and dimmed, brightened and faded. But the electricity had enabled them to put Beth on a heart monitor and to put compression stockings on her legs. Every few seconds the machine hummed, inflating the stockings, to keep her from getting blood clots.
Since she no longer needed to massage Beth’s legs, she found herself with little to do. It was going to be a long night.
Her friend Chris stopped in around midnight. “How are we doing in here?”
Deni hugged her. “I don’t know. Check her chart and let me know.”
“I already did. Dr. Overton left orders for her nurse to administer the drugs as soon as they arrive. Where are they coming from?”
She smiled. “Craig is driving to Washington to get them.”
Chris’s eyebrows arched. “Wow, what a guy. He’s like a hero. First getting the power turned on and now this?”
Deni ignored her gushing. “Chris, do you think those drugs will help her wake up?”
Chris tugged at the mask over her face. “Getting the swelling down will keep them from having to do a craniectomy. And without the intracranial pressure, things could turn around. It might not happen tomorrow, but it would sure give her an advantage.”
Chris went to the head of Beth’s bed, checked her bandage.
“So are there parties going on everywhere around town, now that the lights are on?” Deni asked.
“There sure are. One on every block. It’s like the end of World War II, when everybody was kissing in the streets. My parents have been firing up every appliance in our house, just to see if they’ll still work. Some of them do.”
“It’s weird, being so detached from it all. If all this hadn’t happened, we’d be doing the same things.”
“So has Craig said when we’re getting telephone service?”
“No, we really haven’t had time to talk.”
“Are you going back to work for him?”
She hesitated and looked down at her hands, remembering the kiss he’d laid on her before he left town. “I don’t know. I’m thinking about going back to the newspaper.”
“The newspaper? Why?”
Deni looked up at her. “It’s just not the best idea to work with Craig. You know, with our history and all.”
Chris seemed to understand. Deni was glad she didn’t make her explain more. After a few minutes, Chris went back to work on another floor.
Deni tried to get comfortable in her chair. She slid it back against the wall, rested her head back, and tried to straighten out in the chair. There was no way to get comfortable. She longed to stretch out in her own bed with Beth next to her. She got up and stroked her sister’s hair. Would she ever wake up?
Deni sat back down and prayed that Craig wasn’t just talking — that he really could get the medications Beth needed. Then she folded her arms on Beth’s bed table, rested her head on them, and tried to doze.
“I made it back, babe. Drugs and all.”
Deni threw her head up. Craig stood in the doorway, suited up in a fresh pair of scrubs and a mask over his face. She jumped up. “You got them? You really did?”
His eyes were grinning. “I didn’t think my car would go that fast. I must have gone ninety all the way. Thank goodness it was night or I might have run down a few dozen people.”
She threw her arms around him, and he picked her up and swung her around. “Told you I’d get them.”
“He got them, all right.” The nurse pushed past them into the room, holding two syringes. “Dr. Overton told me to give them to her as soon as they got here.” She injected one into Beth’s IV. “You’re a miracle worker, Mr. Martin.”
“Just doing what I can.”
Deni watched the nurse as she slowly injected the liquid. “God’s the miracle worker.”
Craig nodded, as though he’d meant to say that.
The nurse administered the second drug, then checked Beth’s heart rate and blood pressure. “It’s in God’s hands. We’ve just got to keep praying.”
The nurse left the room, and Deni bent over Beth, watching for any sign of a change even though she knew it was too soon. She put her hand on Beth’s soft head and began to pray out loud. She felt Craig’s hand on her back.
When they finished praying, they sat down. Deni wiped her eyes. “I really appreciate you doing that, Craig. Driving to Washington and back in one night. And it wasn’t even government work.”
His eyes were red and tired, but they rounded as he looked at her. “I did it because I love you, Deni. And I love your family.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, it was a really heroic thing to do.”
He took her hand, ran his thumb across her palm. “I’ll stay with you until morning,” he said.
She didn’t pull her hand away. How could she, after all he’d done? “That’s not necessary. You should go home and get some rest.”
“I can’t rest knowing you’re here.”
It was sweet, so unlike the apathetic Craig who had disappointed her so after the Pulses. This kind of behavior was what she’d yearned for, but she’d never gotten it from him. Had his newfound Christianity changed his personality as well as his spirit?
She swallowed and met his eyes. “Craig, I’ve been thinking. I know I said I’d come to work for the recovery team, but you’ve probably had to replace me by now.”
“I’m holding your job, Deni. I hired another guy to help in PR, but your job is still there whenever you’re ready to come back. We still have a lot of areas without electricity, and after we get all that fixed, there’s still a ton of other things we have to do to rebuild the infrastructure. We’ll need you for all of it.”
“Well, I appreciate that. But I don’t think I want it anymore.”
Craig stiffened. “Why not?”
“Because . . .” She got up, straightened Beth’s blanket. “I love investigative reporting. I don’t think I want to stop being a journalist.”
“But Deni, the money. We can pay you so much more.”
“I know, but that doesn’t seem all that important to me now.”
He looked at her as though she had just asked him to leave. He got up and touched her shoulder, pulled his mask down under his chin. “Deni, we were going to be a team. We had such big plans. I believe God sent me here to win you back. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t have hope. I know you loved me once, but I was stupid then.”
His sincerity touched her. “Craig, I can see that you’ve changed.”
“When we broke up, I knew it had a lot to do with your faith. Remember, you told me we were unequally yoked? I got a Bible and looked that up, trying to understand what that meant, and finally I got it. I realized that you can’t marry somebody who has different goals and different priorities. What kind of life would that be?”
“That wasn’t the only reason I broke up, Craig.”
“I know,” he said. “I was a jerk when the Pulses started. I got so wrapped up in my work, so busy that I didn’t take time to try to get in touch with you or come to get you. And I started to reflect on all the things you had done to get to me and how you’d risked your life. I was a sorry guy, and I knew I needed to change. So I started going to church.”
“Which church?” she asked.
“Christ Fellowship. I’d walked by it a million times without even noticing it. Then one day I saw people going in. At first I
just went and sat on the back row and listened every Sunday, and usually the preacher would cover something I’d never heard of. I would go home and look it up and read. I felt so helpless. At the Senate Building we were making all these plans, trying to get everything in place for the recovery. It finally occurred to me that all our efforts were worthless, because God is in total control. He’d caused the Pulses, and we had no way of stopping them or ending the crisis. It was all up to him.”
Deni gazed up at him, captivated.
“And then I started going on Sunday nights, and one night the preacher asked us to come down for prayer, and I went down and told him I needed prayer because I wasn’t a Christian. I had never surrendered my life to Christ and I wasn’t really sure what it took. Brother Harris prayed with me, and the next thing I knew, I had turned my life over to Christ. And from that moment on, I knew I was different.”
Deni blinked back tears. “I’m glad, Craig.”
He took her hand again. His were still soft from office work and paper pushing, not hard and callused like Mark’s.
But these hands did important work.
“Deni, I know when I came back and told you I’d become a Christian that you and your family thought it was just a ploy. But it’s not. God’s changed my life.”
“I believe you.”
“It means the world to me if you do. You were in love with me once, baby.”
She looked away, but he touched her face and brought her gaze back to him. “With Christ at the center of our home, we can have a great marriage, Deni. We’ll have beautiful children and a common purpose. Our careers are going the same direction. We have the same interests, the same intellect, the same drive. We’d be a power couple. You know we would.”
She didn’t say anything. The compressor hummed, and she looked at Beth’s stockings as they inflated. He turned her face back to his.