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Family Skeletons Page 11
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She’d asked him to personally pass on his findings because she doubted her companions would take her word for anything.
“Okay?” Sunny asked her guards. “Can I go now?” Oh, boy, did she ever want to lay into them. The few parts of her that hadn’t hurt before all that prodding and pushing were sending out steady streams of hurt now.
Jonathan and Ryan exchanged glances, looked at Sunny, then to the doctor, and again at each other. She rolled her eyes. Oh, come on, would you really feel better if I’d broken a leg or concussed myself into a coma?
When she noticed the doctor writing on a prescription pad, she frowned. He tore off the prescription and handed it to Jonathan, one man with a medical degree to another. “She’s already stiff and sore and it’s going to get worse. That’ll help her to sleep.”
“No,” Sunny said. “Give it back to him. I’ll take Advil.”
“We’ll fill it anyway,” Jonathan said. “It’s a mild painkiller. About midnight tonight you’ll be glad you have it.”
Ryan took the prescription from Jonathan and gave it back to the doctor. “She’ll take Advil, like she said.”
The doctor looked at him, then Sunny. He asked softly, “Do you have a drug problem, Sunny?”
She returned his gaze without flinching. “Not presently.”
He nodded, his expression now sober and displaying respect. “I never met you before today, but I feel like I have a personal stake here. Take Advil, Sunny.”
She had a sudden desire to cry, but fought it off.
Next was Tom’s office. She’d prefer to put off filing a report, but she couldn’t get her mind around the fact that someone had deliberately pushed her off the cliff. As much as she wanted to explain it away, no innocent interpretation occurred.
Tom winced when he saw her. “Sunny, whatever you do, don’t pose for a portrait today.”
“Thanks, Tom.” Her grin drew a protest from scratched and bruised cheekbones.
She eased into the visitor’s chair, wondering if she could manage without having to ask for a pillow. She noted that neither Jonathan nor Ryan seemed to appreciate the deputy sheriff’s humor, which only served to amuse her more. She was feeling punchy.
“Maybe you two guys should go check out the deli at Bev’s,” she suggested. “Sometimes she has roasted chicken and ribs in that hot case. It’s either that—for lunch and dinner—or get back on the highway until you run into a fast food franchise.”
The only pillow in sight lay atop the cot inside the open cell, and she didn’t think she wanted that one. Deciding to rough it without a cushion, she managed another grin for Tom once her two guardians had left. “Okay, now it’s time for you to tell me you’ll make this report as painless as possible.”
He chuckled. “I like you, Sunny. You’re like a breath of fresh air.”
Then he sat forward, placed his palms on the desk, and his expression sobered. “But I don’t like what I heard. Who was it that called me? Mark?”
“Marcus.”
“I have to get this straight from you. Did somebody push you off that cliff?”
A very cold feeling sprang up very quickly in her gut. “Yes.”
“Think about this carefully, Sunny. I’m not trying to feed you, or lead you, but stray dogs are known to roam the beach. Could—”
“It have been a friendly mongrel that jumped up to say hi?” she finished for him. “I already thought about that. My impression was, and still is, that it was a person. Not an animal.”
He sat back and stared at her. Clearly he hadn’t liked hearing that any more than she’d liked saying it. “Then we need to assume the only thing accidental about that bullet crease in your forehead is that it didn’t kill you. Who wants you dead, Sunny? And why?”
* * *
“Sunny?” Jonathan’s voice again, calling hesitantly through the closed bathroom door. He’d been hovering out there off and on since she’d come in here.
“I’m okay, Jonathan. Just give me a little longer.” Hot water had never felt so good. This was her second bath today, and she’d probably be back in here again before bed.
They’d finished off the chicken and ribs and a second loaf of French bread for dinner, and had listened to traffic sounds outside their front door. The skeleton had a lot of company down there on the beach. Tom had popped in and out a couple of times, but she’d been in the tub. She’d caught a glimpse of him once from the top of the stairs as he’d exited the front door gnawing on a drumstick.
She hadn’t called to him. Another conversation would only add to the sick feeling in her gut. Tomorrow was soon enough to meet the world again.
But some things she had to meet tonight. There had been tension at the dinner table. Ryan had been both wounded and pissed that she hadn’t told him about the bullet crease in her forehead, and she felt bad about that.
“I was here the next day, Sunny, the very next day. But it didn’t make enough of an impression on you to tell me about it? If it had gone in the middle of your forehead and out the back of your head, would you have told me then?”
She needed to make amends. But right now, she needed to sit in the water for as long as she needed to sit in the water.
“Sunny?”
She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. Jonathan couldn’t possibly be a better ophthalmologist than he was a mother hen. “Okay, come on in.”
He entered and came to kneel next to the tub. As he looked her up and down, the distress that spread across his face could’ve matched the hurt throughout her body. “Oh, Sunny.”
“Yeah, I know. Wish I could say it isn’t as bad as it looks, but the truth is I hurt all over.”
With his gaze meeting hers, he put his fingers lightly to her cheek. “Tomorrow will be the worst, then you’ll improve a little each day after that.” He paused, smiled. “And, for what it’s worth, you’re still beautiful.”
She smiled back. “Thanks anyway, but you’re prejudiced.” Her expression sobered. “Guess I better get out of here and go downstairs. Ryan still mad at me?”
“He’s okay. Stress brings out the best and worst in a person. That man loves you, Sunny.”
“I know. And I love him back.”
“He and Marcus walked down to the beach, or I should say the bluff. The area is roped off, at the top as well as the whole cove, but they hoped they could see something of what was going on. They’ve been gone for a while.”
His head turned as they heard noise at the front door. “There they are now.” He leaned in, lightly touched his lips to hers, then rose and left.
She labored her way to her feet and reached for the towel.
Not wanting to show off her bruises, she dressed in an old set of gray sweats and then made her way downstairs. Barefoot. It’d take too much bending to get footwear on. As she descended the stairs, she overheard Marcus talking about signs of target shooting they’d discovered among the cypress trees, but he became silent when she came into sight. The parlor’s soft, overstuffed chair had been left empty for her and carefully she sank into it.
Ryan stared at her, and she stared back. She said, “You told me once we can never go back and undo anything. We accept what is and go on from there. Right?”
“Generally speaking, I feel successful when someone starts repeating my words back to me. But in your case—”
“Oh, shut up. I’m sorry. Okay? The gunshot wound was an accident. I still think so, and I saw no need to advertise it. But, rethinking it, I admit I was wrong not to mention it, and you’re right.”
He said nothing, apparently unable to come up with a good argument to that.
That’s a good line, Sunny. Worked every time you’ve used it.
It was difficult finding a comfortable position and she tried not to squirm. She wanted to cross her legs, wondered how much effort it would cost, and then remained still. Ryan was easing up, and she didn’t want to draw attention to her injuries.
“What does it look like down at th
e beach?” She directed the question to Marcus. He was in the other corner chair with Cat on his lap. When he was around, Cat seemed to forget all about Sunny.
“You’re getting a new trail down the cliff as soon as they can get a bulldozer out there. One guy already took a fall but didn’t hurt himself. I managed to keep a straight face, but watching those people negotiate that last run was a riot. They’re working from both the beach floor and the cliff. I hope you weren’t too attached to your berry bushes because you’re losing them. I also heard talk about the Coast Guard being called in, just in case it was a drowning, but I didn’t see them out there.”
“I wish it were a simple drowning,” Sunny murmured. “But it wasn’t. The tide doesn’t reach inside the cove.”
“Agreed. That’d be one more iffy element, and you’ve got enough already. There’s a limit, even to coincidence. At any rate, the skeleton is going to have overnight company. They were setting up a tent to shelter it and its guard. If I were the guard, I think I’d want to sleep outside the tent.”
Ryan rested his legs on the coffee table, crossing one foot over the other. His gaze moved to her bare feet. “You’ve got a perfect circle around one ankle. How’d that happen?”
She felt the thorny vines again and saw the sand rushing to meet her. She gave herself a moment to make certain her voice would be steady. “A vine caught and held me. It was only for an instant.”
But it felt like eternity.
“That’s exactly what it looks like.” With a no-nonsense look that was vintage Ryan, he raised his gaze and met hers. “I want you to come home with me. Jonathan can handle things up here, and the sheriff—deputy sheriff, whoever he is—has no objection to your leaving.”
“Oh? You’ve all been talking, have you?”
“Don’t look at me like that, and don’t try to pick a fight with me. I’ll damn well give you one. Somebody has got it in for you. It doesn’t matter who, or even why right now. What matters is that you get yourself out of harm’s way.”
Sunny matched his stare for a long moment, and then blew her breath out in a loud whoosh and looked at the empty doorway. He was the only person she’d never been able to win an argument with. But she wasn’t about to tell him that, and she hadn’t yet given up on winning this one anyway.
She looked back. “Okay, listen. Really listen. That bullet may have been exactly what we thought, a stray, and had nothing to do with what happened today. Even if it was deliberate, it could’ve been meant for Jonathan instead of me.”
She held up her hand to shush her audience. Marcus was the only one who didn’t have his mouth open. “It’s difficult sorting impressions after a fall like that and I could be way off. Maybe it was a dog, as Tom suggested. If it’d been one of the boys who pushed me, he might have hidden in the reeds when he saw me coming, panicked and then shoved me so he could get away undetected. All kinds of scenarios here. The mere thought that someone might be trying to kill me boggles my mind. There’s no reason. Jonathan is the only person who would gain by my death, and that bullet could’ve hit him as easily as me.”
She lowered her hand. “Okay. Your turn.”
No one appeared convinced, but neither did anyone jump in with a ready argument.
Taking advantage of the silence, she added, “And I can’t go home yet anyway. Not without knowing who that skeleton is—was. If it was my father or not. I have to know, Ryan. You should understand that. And once it’s identified, one way or the other, I’ll tell my mother. I refuse to let anyone else do it.”
Chapter Fourteen
The phone rang. Since Ryan was closest to it, he gave Sunny and Jonathan a questioning look, and when he got two shrugs in response he answered it. Quickly, his gaze darted back to Sunny. “Hi, Roberta. Yes, she’s right here.”
Sunny steeled herself; it was doubtful the call from her mother was a coincidence. Because of the short phone cord, she and Ryan had to trade places. She moved slowly and tried not to wince.
“Hi, Mom.”
“And hello to you, too. Would you mind telling me what’s going on up there? A reporter called to get my reaction to the lurid discovery at Corday Cove. And the attempted murder of my daughter. It was that last one that got me.”
Sunny swore under her breath then glanced guiltily at Jonathan. “I’d hoped we’d have some time before the news got out.”
“Well, the news is out. I was told a skeleton had been found in the cove, and that you’d been admitted into the hospital with extensive injuries.”
“That second one is an exaggeration. I fell off the cliff.” She turned away from Ryan’s look of disapproval. Telephone privacy was in pretty short supply around here. Why hadn’t her mother called Sunny’s cell? Well, she probably had. The cell was upstairs in her purse and she wouldn’t have heard it ring from down here. In her mildest, blandest voice, she went on. “I’ve got bruises to show for it, but that’s about it.”
“Bruises, huh.”
“Yeah.”
Sunny let the silence ride. No sense volunteering information that might have her mother hopping into her car and adding to the confusion up here. Wait until she knew something, then she’d lay it all out for her.
“I’m working on it,” Roberta said slowly, “but I can’t quite figure out how you managed to take a fall like that.”
“Well...”
“All right,” Roberta said. Sunny heard the weary sigh and could almost see her mother’s long look at the ceiling. “If you’re okay, I’m okay.” Then she went on. “They’ll try to identify the skeleton through dental records, and it may be your father’s. This is a high profile case and it might become difficult for you up there. Perhaps you should come back home.”
“No. I can handle it. I want to stick it out until we get answers. And I’ve got a lot done. We’re almost through with the attic.” That reminded her of the bloody baseball bat, and she tried to turn her face even further away from Ryan. “And we found a Victrola. It’s a beauty, Mom, a real antique. Ryan and Marcus will be helping Jonathan to get it down from up there.”
“Jonathan?”
“Uh, yeah.” She glanced quickly at him. “I met the other owner of Corday Cove. We, er, surprised each other.” Now that’s an understatement if I ever heard one.
“Good. I’d like to meet him, too. You haven’t been bothered by the press yet?”
“This is a newly connected phone line, and I guess they haven’t discovered it. For now it’s just police presence, but I’m sure we’ll be getting other visitors. Hope they take their time getting out here.”
“The reporter who called isn’t one of the ghouls. I’ve dealt with him before. And that rock star who shot himself last month will be the focus of the tabloids for a while. I dislike being callous, but that might give us a reprieve. Call me, Sunny, as soon as you know anything. I’d rather hear it from you first.”
“I know. Take care, okay? Love you, Mom.”
Slowly, Sunny placed the phone receiver in its cradle, and then stared at it instead of looking up at anyone. She wasn’t above omitting details when it suited her, or even stretching the truth if it came to that, but she didn’t like doing either with an audience.
“So you fell,” Ryan said mildly, after the count of perhaps five long seconds. “You weren’t pushed. And I noticed you didn’t mention that new crease in your forehead or a certain baseball bat that was used as a weapon on somebody. Possibly on the very same skeleton that had rested peacefully in the berry bushes until you fell on top of it.” His tone carried a deceptively casual note. “You and Roberta try so hard to protect the other, yet each of you know the other so well that neither of you is getting away with anything. I wonder if either of you knows that?”
Sunny allowed a smile but still didn’t look up. “Games people play.” As usual, Ryan had found a neat little nutshell that the situation fitted perfectly into. She studied her hand that rested on the phone receiver. Angry, red scratches marred it.
Then, as
she recalled a comment Jonathan had made on the beach earlier, she looked over at him. “You said someone called this morning and that’s why you went looking for me. Who was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” He stared into space as he jogged his memory. “It was a male voice. I left the phone off the hook, if I remember right.”
“You did,” Marcus said. “But the person had hung up before I got back.”
“Whoever it was, I’m grateful,” Sunny said. “Whoever pushed me came down the trail after me, but then kept on going when he heard your voices.”
She gave Marcus a questioning look. “When I came down the stairs you were talking about checking out the cypress grove?”
He nodded. “Are you aware there’s a road leading into there?” Cat was purring so loudly on his lap that she sounded like a small motor. Absently he stroked her back.
“I never go in there,” Sunny said, and then she glanced at Jonathan, who shook his head, conveying that he hadn’t come across a road during his explorations either. “It must branch off from the main highway,” she added. “I don’t think there are any spurs off the road that lead to the house and the cove.”
“Then there’s another way in,” Jonathan mused. “Other than the beach. We’re not as isolated as I’d thought. We wouldn’t see a vehicle in there, might not even hear it, and it’s a short walk from the trees to here.”
“That explains how easily the boys get in for their target shooting, and possibly why they chose that place,” Marcus said. “I wonder if we’d be stepping on the sheriff’s toes if we went to visit those kids tomorrow.”
“We would,” Jonathan said. “For the time being, we need to leave this investigation to the powers that be. We’d only end up muddying the waters more than they already are.”
* * *
Sunny spent a bad night and was up at dawn for more Advil. She wanted another hot bath but didn’t want to start it this early; the noisy pipes would wake everybody up. She started coffee instead and made muffins. The activity was good therapy and helped work out kinks in muscles and joints. She was taking the cupcake tin out of the oven when the hall floor creaked.