It was just after 11:00 p.m. when I heard a knock on my front door. I had been enjoying a marathon of Forensic Files and a stack of cookies, so I was sitting in the living room. I grabbed my phone and checked the security cameras and was surprised to see Carter standing there. I jumped up and hurried to the door, flinging it open.
“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” I asked. “How is Emmaline? Why aren’t you at the hospital?”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Jesus, get inside. What are you waiting for?” I moved over so he could shuffle past me. He made it as far as the couch and flopped down. I perched on the coffee table in front of him, waiting for answers.
“Mom is still unconscious,” he said. “They ran a bunch of tests and the doctor said there’s some swelling on her brain. He thinks it should go away in a day or two and when enough has gone, she’ll wake up.”
“That’s it? Hundreds of thousands of dollars for medical school and who knows how many millions for the equipment they used to test her, and all he had to give you is ‘he thinks?’”
“Yeah, I wasn’t thrilled either, but the neurologist they called in said the same thing. They’ll retest tomorrow to make sure the swelling is going down. If it isn’t, then they’ll reassess.”
“Well, that’s crap.”
He gave me a tired smile. “It’s nice to hear that my sentiments are supported.”
“So why are you here? I mean…it’s fine for you to be here, but I figured you’d be at the hospital all night.”
“I got some backup.”
“Backup you trust?” I asked.
“Mannie showed up.”
“Oh. Well, then that’s fine.”
“Is it? The guy appears silently behind me, apparently having managed to skirt the nurses and the idiot the state police left up front, expresses his and the Heberts’ sentiments about Mom like he’s an English professor, then offers his services as a bodyguard. I’m not sure I get the guy.”
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to.”
“Anyway, he told me that I needed food and sleep because I had a big job ahead of me trying to help you while flying below radar. He said if my mom woke up, he’d call immediately, and that anyone who tried to get near her who wasn’t approved wouldn’t like the consequences.”
“I’d take that bet.”
“I guess you called in a favor?”
“No. Actually, Mannie called me earlier on behalf of the Heberts. They’d heard about Emmaline and wanted to see how she was doing. Then they offered all their resources to get this sorted. They also knew about Palmer and were less than enthusiastic.”
Carter shook his head. “I don’t know how they do it. Big Hebert rarely leaves his office and yet he knows everything that happens within a hundred-mile radius ten seconds after it occurs.”
“There are a lot of people who want to be in his good graces,” I said. “I imagine his phone rings all the time with news that people think he might be interested in.”
“Probably so. Normally, I would have sat my stubborn butt there in that hallway all night, but Mannie is imposing enough to keep people away. The fact that he can back it up helps.”
“And the fact that he’s right. You sitting there all night isn’t going to help anyone. I have some leftover pot roast and rice that Gertie made. You want me to make some up for you?”
“Actually, if you could put it in a container, I’ll just nuke it when I get home. I need to feed Tiny and get a shower. I’ll probably eat in my recliner and not bother to move after that.”
“I’ll get you fixed right up,” I said, and headed for the kitchen. Carter trailed behind me.
“Did you guys come up with a game plan?” he asked.
“Sort of,” I said. “We talked to Celia tonight to see if she saw anything during her jaunt through the funhouse.”
“How’d that go?”
“About as good as you might expect but without the usual nasty attitude. She rang her bell pretty hard when she hit that glass and she’s not back to regular Celia yet. But she didn’t see anyone.”
“You think she’s remembering correctly?”
“I think so. She was genuinely distressed when I told her that she’d tripped over Emmaline on her dash out of there and was relieved to hear she’s stable. She wasn’t nearly as nice about St. Ives.”
“She didn’t like the competition.”
“And it sounds like he was a contender. Going on the assumption that St. Ives was the only intended victim, the first thing on the agenda tomorrow is to find out more about him. The general knowledge seems to be he was such a pain in the rear that no one wanted to learn more.”
“I’d say that’s accurate. He made a call nearly every day to the sheriff’s department complaining about something. Noise violations. Parking too close to his driveway. He even wanted me to cite my own mother because her rosebush was encroaching on his property line.”
“But he was renting.”
“I know. And I informed him that the property owner didn’t care about the roses so he could get over it. Then a couple days later, part of her bush was gone and it caused more of it to die. Mom was fit to be tied.”
“I’ll bet. Did you do anything?”
“What could I do? No one saw him do it. No one had security cameras. I’m certain it was him but the law requires more than my certainty.”
“That part of the law sucks.”
He smiled. “The part that requires evidence?”
“Exactly.”
“I think there might be a couple problems getting that requirement eliminated.”
I sighed and set a bag with a container of pot roast, French bread, and mint cookies on the table in front of him. “Maybe I was born too soon. In the future, I bet the police will be able to run on the opinion of certain people.”
“I’m afraid the future is going to rely on the opinion of computers.”
I waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s just silly. Computers don’t have intuition, and no amount of artificial intelligence in the world is going to acquire it. Heck, you can’t teach intuition to other people. It’s either there or it’s not. Tell me one time that I’ve thought someone was a bad guy and been wrong.”
“You haven’t been. You’ve sometimes been wrong about what they were guilty of, though.”
“Like when?”
“Like the time you thought that contractor was entering into his client’s house to peek on her in bed and it turned out his ten-year-old daughter was the guilty party and was using his key to visit her kittens.”
“He did have a pair of her panties in his toolbox. Hardly innocent. And because of that little revelation, the girl’s mom has full custody and the girl got a kitten.”
He smiled. “Well, as long as she got a kitten.”
“Everyone should get a kitten.”
Carter rose and gave me a kiss, then he grabbed his bag of food. “Thanks for this. I’ll call you in the morning once I’ve seen my mom and talked to the doctor.”
I nodded. “And if you hear anything tonight, call. Or if anything happens.”