A Murder State of Mind Boxed Set Page 30

  Stella’s shouting had alarmed Jake and he started pacing back and forth in front of the door.

  “I understand that.” Stella lowered her voice. “This will be completely confidential. All I want to do is check up on Kelly and make sure he’s all right. I’m not going to call the cops and I won’t do anything to screw things up. I just want you to tell me where he’s supposed to be and I’ll go on over there and check it out. If he’s okay, I’ll drive away without anyone being the wiser.”

  She waved her hand in the air and Gillian handed her a pen and paper. “I understand that. I won’t do anything to attract attention.”

  Gillian grabbed her jacket and put it on.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Stella said, dropping the receiver in the cradle and heading for the door. “He’s in Arlington. Over at one of those U-Store places, locked up inside a shed waiting for a blackmailer to show up. God only knows what’s happened out there.”

  Jake squeezed between them and led the way out onto the porch.

  “I guess he’s going with us,” Gillian said. “Let’s take my Bronco. The highway is probably a mess from this rain. Besides, I’ve got a first-aid kit in there, just in case.”

  “Let’s get on the road,” Stella yelled, raising her voice to carry over the wind. Sheets of rain swept across the yard, soaking them both as they raced to the truck. Gillian pulled the keys out of her bag, unlocked the driver’s door and stood back to let Jake leap across the front seat and tumble into the back.

  “He’s not taking any chances,” Gillian hollered across at Stella who was climbing in the passenger door.

  “I have a feeling we’re going to need his help,” Stella said, reaching over to flip on the dash light and holding the piece of paper out for Gillian to read. “It’s about a mile past Six Flags. One of those big self-storage lots.”

  “I know where it is. I’ve been to an auction out there and I’ve seen the storage lot from the highway.”

  “Good. We’re looking for unit twenty-seven. Lorena said it’s about halfway across the lot. It’ll be hell to see anything in this rain but Jake will smell Kelly if he’s anywhere around there.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kelly stood up and stretched. He’d been crouched behind the file cabinet for two and a half hours and his muscles were on fire. He couldn’t stand it any longer. There was nothing stirring outside but the wind and it was making enough racket to cover any sound he made stretching himself out a bit.

  Lifting one foot and placing it carefully in front of the other, he inched across the floor to the far side of the shed. There was a knothole half way up the back side. He probably wouldn’t be able to see anything but he needed to look. This damn eight by eight shed was giving him claustrophobia. He’d expected to be in here an hour, maybe two at the most.

  Reaching the far wall, Kelly flattened his palms against the wood and leaned. The knothole was just above his head. He stretched, moved his hands up, stuck his eyeball up to the hole and looked.

  It was pitch black. He blinked, twisted his head and tried another angle. Still nothing. No shadows, no beams of light. Nothing.

  Disgusted, he lowered his heels and backed away from the wall. He’d made a big mistake not arranging some kind of a signal with Lorena in case the blackmailer failed to show. Now what the hell was he going to do?

  He felt his way back across the room until his hand touched the cabinet and he worked himself back around and settled into a crouch.

  I’ll give it another hour, he decided, wishing he had paid more attention to the door while there was still some light inside. He couldn’t remember how the hinges were set up. He’d be in trouble if they were on the outside. Inside hinges could always be worked loose. Of course, it’d take him a while but it was beginning to look like he’d have all night for it.

  A car engine sounded in the distance and Kelly cocked his head and listened. The noise grew louder. He took a deep breath and let it out, leaned into his crouch and forced himself to relax. This could be it.

  Whoever it was had pulled their car so close to the shed the walls were vibrating. Kelly backed against the wall and hunched his shoulders. The guy would probably have a flashlight and Kelly wanted him inside before he showed himself.

  Minutes passed and Kelly started to cramp again. He heard a thump against the back of the shed and caught his breath. He couldn’t figure out what was happening out there. More time passed. The car roared outside the shed. It sounded like the idle was stuck. Fumes were seeping through the walls and they’d started to give him a headache. Damn the idiot anyhow. Why in hell didn’t he get his ass in here and grab that money?

  Kelly’s chest ached. Those fumes were overpowering. He couldn’t get enough air. His stomach lodged in his throat.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He had to get some air before he suffocated. His body had started to tremble. He gasped and sucked for air. His head started to spin.

  Getting to his feet, Kelly staggered against the cabinet, clutched metal and lurched for the door. His chest was on fire. He stumbled and fell to his knees. His stomach heaved. Choking, he staggered back to his feet and lunged. His head struck the crossbar and he felt a sliver pierce his cheek, just before he crumpled against the door and spun into a deep, black void.

  Time passed. A dark figure approached the shed, a key flashed in the moonlight and the lock was turned. In an instant, the door swung wide and Kelly’s body tumbled over the sill. His head and shoulders struck the ground. Cold hands tugged and yanked at his arms in an attempt to shove him back into the shed. He stuck, lodged in the entrance. A sliver of light beamed in his face, then slid over him and into the darkened shed. A hand reached across Kelly, grabbed the moneybag off the table and yanked it free.

  Nimble fingers detached the hose and stowed it back in the trunk. Minutes later the car sped out the entrance executed a sharp right and disappeared into the long line of vehicles racing down the highway.

  * * *

  Gillian flipped the wipers on high and leaned forward. Rain streamed down the windshield and the wipers fought a losing battle to keep it clear. “I’m sorry I can’t go any faster,” she said.

  “You’re doing the best you can.” Stella pressed her nose to the glass and peered out the window. “I think that’s the entrance to Six Flags is over there. Do you remember the name of the exit?”

  “It’s called Secondary Highway 820,” Gillian said, gripping the wheel with both hands. “The ramp should be about two miles ahead. There ought to be an exit sign. Watch for it, will you? I don’t dare take my eyes off this road.”

  Stella kept her face pressed to the glass.

  “Here comes one now,” she yelled. “Slow down so I can read.”

  Gillian slowed the Bronco to a crawl.

  “That’s it,” Stella shouted. “Highway 820, one half mile. Better put on your signal.”

  “Okay, I see it.” Gillian clicked the flasher and edged into the exit lane. “Damn, I wish this rain would let up,” she muttered. “The U-Store’s about a mile off the highway, on the right-hand side and I think there’s a light.”

  “I’ll watch for it. You just keep us on the road.” Gillian crept along the two-lane highway.

  “There,” Stella yelped and Gillian leaned over the steering wheel searching for the sign.

  “See those lights?” Stella pointed toward two large beams of light that glimmered in the dark.

  Gillian squinted to follow Stella’s hand. “I see them. I hope we can get inside. Don’t they lock these places at night?”

  “I don’t think so. They usually have security patrols but everybody is responsible for their own stuff. There’s the gate. Go slowly now.” Stella rolled down her window and rain pelted her face.

  “Can you tell if the gate is open?” Gillian asked.

  “It’s open,” Stella yelled over the wind and the rain. “Keep going. Up by those lights. We’ll get out there. I hope Jake can smell in this stuff.”


  “Okay, hang on. This road is bumpy. Don’t worry about Jake. Rain doesn’t affect dogs that way.”

  “Lorena said Kelly was locked up in number twenty-seven waiting for the blackmailer,” Stella said. “His pickup should be around here somewhere.”

  “We’ll check the sheds first.” Gillian braked the Bronco and shut off the motor. “There’s a cell phone and a flashlight in the glove box. We’ll need that for sure and let’s take the phone just in case.”

  “Good.” Stella opened it and handed the phone and flashlight to Gillian. “Be ready to sprint though, cause once Jake picks up Kelly’s scent he’ll be off like a bat out of hell.”

  Stella slid out and Jake hopped over the seat and leapt to the ground.

  Climbing out the driver’s side, Gillian ran around the Bronco and trained the flashlight on a row of sheds. “That one says number five. There seems to be six sheds to a row. Let’s head toward the middle.”

  “Come on, Jake,” Stella called. “Let’s go find Kelly.”

  Jake sniffed the ground, apparently without success and fell into step beside them. The rain had slacked off but the wind beat at their backs and shoved them down the path. They moved along the row of sheds, eyes peeled for movement, reached the end of the first row and moved into the second.

  Gillian shone her flashlight above a doorway. “This one’s eleven.” She raised her voice to carry over the wind.

  Jake, who’d been dogging Stella’s footsteps, let out a yelp and tore down the row. “There he goes,” Stella screamed. “Come on. Don’t lose him.”

  Jake streaked past the sheds and disappeared. Stella and Gillian raced after him, with Gillian’s flashlight dipping and bobbing as she ran.

  “There he is.” Stella caught sight of Jake’s tail disappearing between a pair of sheds. Moments later, Jake’s yelps turned into frenzied barking.

  “He’s found Kelly,” Gillian shrieked, as the beam from her flashlight picked out a dark shape sprawled across the front of one of the sheds.

  “He’s dead,” Stella screamed.

  “No!” Gillian dropped to her knees and reached out to turn his head. “Smell the exhaust fumes? He’s been asphyxiated. Here.” She flung the phone at Stella. “Call 9-1-1 and get the paramedics out here. He needs oxygen. He’s still breathing but it’s shallow and way too slow.”

  Stella dialed the phone and screamed instructions into the receiver. “They’re on the way,” she said flinging the phone on the ground. “What can I do?”

  “Help me drag him away from here. We need to get him out of these fumes. Let’s try to prop him against that shed over there.”

  Stella grabbed Kelly’s other arm and they yanked and tugged until they had dragged him across the ground away from the smell of fumes.

  Both of them crouched over Kelly, waiting in silence, swiveling their heads at every sound and peering anxiously up the road. After an eternity, a siren sounded in the distance.

  Stella grabbed the flash and jumped to her feet. “I’ll meet them at the entrance and lead them back here,” she said and dashed off down the road.

  The paramedics screeched onto the scene, with Stella racing beside them. They listened briefly to Gillian’s description, then clamped an oxygen mask over Kelly’s face and rolled out a stretcher.

  “We need to get him transported to Arlington Memorial stat,” the driver said as he caught one end of the stretcher, lifting it to meet his partner inside the unit. “We’ve only got room for one of you,” he said, holding back the door.

  “You go.” Gillian turned to Stella. “I’ll get the Bronco and meet you in emergency.” “Thanks.” Stella’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  Gillian reached over and squeezed her hand. She knew Stella felt responsible for what had happened to Kelly. She needed to be with him right now.

  * * *

  Gillian and Stella huddled together on a hard vinyl couch in Arlington Memorial’s emergency waiting room.

  “I hope they don’t find out I lied to them,” Gillian whispered.

  Stella shook her head. “How the hell are they to know whether or not you’re his common-law wife? They don’t care really. They’re just covering their asses in case somebody decides to sue.”

  Gillian attempted a feeble smile. “As long as Kelly doesn’t wake up and call me a liar.” Then she gasped. “God, what a thing to say. I don’t care what he calls me, as long as he wakes up and is okay.”

  Stella grabbed her hand. “I know what you mean,” she said. “I’m just grateful you were on the ball when we got here. If you hadn’t told them you were his wife, they’d never tell us a thing. Kelly doesn’t have any family, you know.”

  Gillian nodded. “I assumed as much since he’s never spoken of anyone. I can’t believe it, Stella. I feel like I’ve known Kelly forever but I hardly know anything about him.”

  Stella grinned. “You’ve got the bug all right.”

  A doctor strode into the room. His white coat hung loose and a stethoscope dangled from his neck. “Mrs. McWinter?”

  “It’s Larson. I use my own name.”

  “I see. I’m Doctor Carlson and if you’d like to step this way, I’ll try to bring you up to date on Mr. McWinter’s condition.”

  “Thank you. Is it all right if my cousin comes along?”

  “Of course, if you’d like. If you’ll follow me, please.”

  Stella and Gillian jumped up and trotted down the hall behind him. “In here,” he said, pushing open the door to a small office.

  The doctor pulled out a chair behind a small metal desk, lowered himself into the seat and plopped a manila folder down on the desk. “If you’ll be seated...” He pointed at two straight back chairs facing the desk. “The first thing I need to explain is what happens in a case of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  He opened the folder and lifted his head.

  Both of them nodded and fastened their eyes on his face.

  He drew a sheet of paper out of the folder and began to read. “Carbon monoxide binds oxygen sites on hemoglobin and prevents oxygen from being absorbed. Its action is almost identical to cyanide poisoning. After ingestion, reaction by the victim is the same as if a plastic bag were placed over the mouth. In this case, the person can breathe, can move air into the lungs but none of the oxygen is absorbed.”

  He paused and looked at Gillian. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and dropped his eyes back to the paper. “When a carbon monoxide atom hooks onto a red blood cell, the cell continues to carry it until it dies. With continued exposure, the contaminated cells continue to build up until the victim suffocates. However, the body makes new red blood cells all the time, so once the exposure is over, the victim should recover physically, although brain damage can occur.”

  Stella gasped and a look of concern flashed across the doctor’s face.

  “Is she all right?” he asked and Gillian, who had sat rigid through the reading, nodded her head.

  He closed the folder. “There are several factors that must be taken into consideration when treating a victim of carbon monoxide poisoning. The length of exposure is the primary consideration, although there is also some evidence certain individuals are more susceptible to the poison than others. Everything possible is being done for your husband. He’s still in a coma and until he regains consciousness, it’s impossible for me to give you an accurate prognosis.”

  “You mean he might still die?” Gillian’s voice broke on the whispered question.

  He laid his hands on the desk and gave her a kindly smile. “That’s always a possibility, of course but right now it looks like he has a good chance. I suggest you stay optimistic. I’ll let you know as soon as we have a more definite prognosis.”

  “Can I sit with him?”

  “Of course. That’s always a good idea in these cases. He probably won’t know you’re there but there’s a lot we don’t know about the awareness of a coma patient. I’ll stop at the nu
rsing station and leave instructions.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Carlson.”

  He nodded. “If you’ll return to the waiting room, I’ll have someone call you when he’s been transferred to his own room.”

  “I’ve got to go down to admitting and fill out some forms,” Gillian said when they were back in the waiting room. “Thank God you dug Kelly’s insurance card out of his wallet while you were in the ambulance.”

  “I figured we’d need it. Do you need any help with the forms?”

  “I don’t think so. They type them into the computer as you’re talking. It’d look funny if we both answered. I’ll tell them what I know and just fake the rest. Kelly can always straighten it out afterwards.”

  “Okay. I’m going to take some water out to the truck and make sure Jake’s okay. Then I’ll get a cup of coffee and wait for you here.”

  Gillian took the elevator to the first floor. She stopped on the way to use the pay phone then followed the arrows to admitting.

  The questions were routine. She gave his address, his date of birth, listed herself as his next of kin. Told them his parents had died when he was a youngster and he never talked about his family history so they’d have to ask him. She supplied them with his medical card and gave his occupation as private detective. The clerk seemed satisfied with the answers and after signing the forms, Gillian returned to the waiting room.

  “How’d it go?” Stella asked.

  “Fine. For being married, I didn’t know much about my own husband but they didn’t object. At least his medical card checked out. I think that’s all they cared about really.”

  Stella nodded. “It figures.”

  They waited on the couch. Time passed slowly. Fifteen minutes... thirty... forty-five minutes.