“Wait just a minute, Mr. Kincaid.” The judge looked at him sternly. “I gave you what you wanted before, when the police were using photocopied search warrants. That was a violation of fourth amendment rights. But there’s no constitutional violation here. And there is no way on God’s green earth I’m going to exclude critical evidence in this case again. Your motion is denied.”
“Your honor,” Ben shouted, “you can’t condone this egregious conduct when—”
“Mr. Kincaid, I’ve ruled. Now give it a rest or I’ll hold you in contempt.” She rapped her gavel and strode out of the courtroom.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, Ben.” This came from Mike, who slowly crossed the courtroom to Ben’s table. “We just got a message from the hospital. Keri Dalcanton is dead. Died from the gunshot wound.”
Ben’s lips parted wordlessly.
“Andrea McNaughton is going to be okay. She’ll stand trial for her crimes.”
Ben glared at him coldly. “You had no business reading Christina’s fax.”
“I know that,” Mike said flatly. “I told you—I didn’t mean to. But after I did, there was no way I could pretend I hadn’t. Not after I knew that those two had conspired together, and that they were preparing to leave town and might never be seen again.”
Ben’s expression did not change.
“Ben, I’m a cop, not a defense attorney. I can’t let the bad guys get away. Not if I can help it.” He looked at Ben earnestly a few more seconds, then frowned and left the courtroom.
52
AS SOON AS HE got the call on his cell phone, Ben blitzed through rush hour traffic to St. John’s. Barely half a minute later, he was racing down corridors, up stairwells, across hallways, until he finally arrived, breathless, outside Room 522.
“How long?” he asked, barely catching his breath.
The whole office staff was crowded into the small hospital room—Christina, Loving, Jones. Jones was seated beside the bed, Paula’s hand clasped in his.
And Paula’s eyes were open.
“She came around about half an hour ago,” Christina explained. Ben pressed forward, trying to maneuver his way closer. “She’s still groggy. But she seems to understand what we’re saying.”
“Has she spoken?” he said in hushed tones.
“A little bit. Not very informative.”
“Does she remember—?”
Christina shook her head. “She remembers being stabbed. But she never knew who it was. You know what she was so anxious to tell us that night? She’d found a memo in a file indicating that the Stroud police suspected Keri was involved in her parents’ death. But they could never prove anything.” She looked down at Paula. “She was way ahead of us.”
Ben didn’t comment.
Jones was speaking in hushed soothing tones, stroking Paula’s hands. “I was so worried, Paula. I can’t tell you how I felt. It was like—like—I can’t even explain. It was horrible.”
Paula’s lips were chapped and dry, but she still managed a small smile. “Didn’t … feel so hot on this end … either.”
Jones squeezed both her hands between his. “I don’t want to ever be separated from you again, Paula. Never.”
Her tired eyelids fluttered. “Quite a … commitment … from a modern guy like you.”
“I mean it. I really do. I—”
They were interrupted by the sound of the pneumatic door swooshing open. Ben saw a nurse with brown hair and brown eyes enter the room carrying a clipboard. Billie Barnett, R.N., according to her nametag.
“How’s my patient?” she asked.
Jones wiped his eyes. “She’s still awake. And still talking.”
“Wonderful. Any trouble communicating?”
“No. She seems … just like she always did.”
“Except duller,” Paula added.
Barnett smiled. “You’ll get your strength back in time. It’s going to take a while, though, before you’re really up to snuff.” She pressed her hand against Paula’s forehead, then quickly took her pulse. “How do you feel?”
“Tired.” Her eyes wandered over to Jones. “But happy.”
“After all you’ve been through,” Nurse Barnett said, “that’s pretty darn good.”
“So what’s the prognosis?” Ben asked.
“The prognosis is terrific,” Barnett answered, slapping a pencil against her clipboard. “Mind you, her body has been through a terrible shock, and her brain has been struggling to deal with that. But she’s on the mend. The doctors see no indications of any permanent damage, not to her body or mind. Another week or so and she can probably get out of here. And in two months, maybe three, she should be just like new. Except for the scars.”
“Will they hurt?” Paula asked.
“Hurt? No, no. But you’ll probably want to get rid of your string bikinis.”
Jones grabbed the nurse by her arms. “Do you mean it? She’s gonna be just like new?”
“Yes, of course. That’s what I—”
Jones whirled around like a top. He crouched down and clasped Paula’s hand in his. “Marry me.”
Paula blinked “What?”
“You heard. Marry me.”
Christina’s eyes went bug-wide. “No!”
“I didn’t ask you, Christina.” Jones leaned close to Paula, his face open and imploring. “Please, Paula. I know there’s nothing special about me. But it would mean so much to me.”
Christina bounced up and down. “I can’t believe it!”
Jones looked at her harshly. “Then step outside.” He turned back to Paula. “Since I met you, everything about my life has changed for the better. I know I don’t have much to offer you. I know I’m difficult and complicated and—and—”
“Quirky,” Christina suggested.
“Obnoxious,” Loving offered.
“Reserved,” Jones said, pointedly ignoring them. “I know I don’t always express my feelings like I should.”
Paula smiled faintly. “As I should, puddin’.”
Jones persevered. “I know sometimes I don’t tell you how important you are to me. I know I’m not your dream man. I’m just a crummy office manager in a crummy law firm—”
“Hey!” Ben said. “Watch that.”
Jones’s head twisted around. “Who invited you clowns to this proposal, anyway?”
Chastised, they all took a step back. But didn’t leave.
“Anyway,” Jones said, returning his attention to the matter at hand, “I know there’s no reason on earth why you should want to be married to me. But you’re the most special woman I’ve ever known.” He pressed her hand against his cheek. “So would you please do me the very great honor of becoming my bride?”
Paula’s head trembled. “You are so wrong,” she said tremulously.
His face fell. “I am?”
She nodded. “There’s something very special about you.”
He inched forward. “Does that mean—?”
“Of course I’ll marry you, you big galoot. C’mere.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could.
Ben nudged Christina. “Maybe we should leave these two—” He stopped short. “You’re crying!”
Christina dabbed her eyes. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve seen in my whole life.”
Ben led her outside to give the newly engaged some privacy. Loving and the nurse followed their lead. When Ben and Christina got to the waiting area, she was still dabbing her eyes.
“Don’t you just love it,” Christina said, composing herself, “when everything has a happy ending?”
“Yeah,” Ben said, voice flat. “Very happy.”
“You’re still thinking about Keri, aren’t you? Ben, I’m sorry about the way that turned out.”
Ben shook his head. “I should’ve listened to you. Your instincts are always better than mine. You understand people. And you never liked Keri. That should’ve told me something. But instead of being smart, I just assumed you didn’t like her because—well, I should’ve paid better attention, that’s all.” He turned slightly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”