I wasn’t sure what I felt. It wasn’t joy. A touch of relief perhaps?
“Is that it, then?” I asked. “Ronnie is off the hook?”
“Well, it’s an open case, an ongoing investigation. And you’ll have to talk to the doctors at St. Vincent’s,” Richland said. He seemed stuck for a moment, not sure what to say next. He pointed at Dan. “I suppose your… friend here… I guess he told you about the cause of the overdose?”
“This digoxin stuff.”
“Right.” With something to explain to me, Richland seemed to be on firmer ground. “It turns out it’s not a medication that your brother has ever taken. And Dr. Heil, after his examination of Ronnie, reached the conclusion that it was unlikely your brother would harm anyone. Not your mother and not himself. It seems clear that someone tried to get Ronnie to take that medication, to make it appear as though he killed himself. Perhaps to cover some prior crime and frame your brother for it. At least, that’s the working theory. We’ll know more when we talk to Gordon Baxter. Like we said, we’re trying to find him.”
“Is she safe?” Dan asked, his voice full of skepticism. “This guy you’re looking for, you think he already killed somebody and tried to kill somebody else.”
“Two people,” I said. “He tried to kill Neal last night.”
“Is Elizabeth safe?” Dan asked again.
“You should certainly be cautious,” Post said. “Mr. Baxter knows where you live.”
“Can you put her somewhere safe?” Dan asked. “You know, some sort of protection program? What does this guy even want? Do you know, Elizabeth?”
Richland answered for me. “We don’t really do that,” he said. “Put people in a protection program, unless it’s a really dire situation. As far as what he wants…” He looked at me. “Didn’t you say he wanted money from you? Money from the life insurance policy?”
“That’s what he said,” I said.
“I don’t see how he can expect to get that anymore,” Post said. “He may have gone after Ms. Yarbrough because she knew so much about him from the past. But now we all know.”
“I think you’ll be safe,” Richland said. “A guy like Baxter, you have no idea if he’s even going to stick around in a town like Dover. His last known address is an hour away in Columbus, and he has an outstanding warrant there. He’s not really looking to wait around until the law finds him. Chances are, he’s left already, moved on to some other town. He’s an old man, and he knows the noose is closing.”
If I was supposed to take comfort in that bit of wisdom, I didn’t. It made sense that someone might run off when the noose tightened. I knew that better than anyone.
But what about those people who kicked and fought the more the pressure increased? Didn’t Gordon Baxter seem more likely to be one of those guys?
Chapter Fifty-seven
They released Ronnie from St. Vincent’s two days later. I spent those two days trying to get my life back to normal again. I lived at Dan’s house for the most part. We drove to my apartment once, so I could get clothes and toiletries and my laptop. But otherwise I camped out with him. And we talked, mostly about the future. My future, not his and mine. I knew Ronnie was leaving the hospital. I knew he still had some recovering to do, both physical and emotional. He needed as much stability as possible. Frank Allison checked in with me. He told me Ronnie was free and clear, that everything on the legal side was in order. My brother was coming home to live with me.
And I talked to Paul about Ronnie… and about everything else. He and I had a long talk the night before Ronnie was discharged. I told him everything that Beth had told me, the whole awful story of why she’d left Haxton and how she’d slowly worked her way back to contact with Mom and Gordon again. Paul listened skeptically, and when I reached the part of the story when Beth said Mom knew about Gordon’s crimes, Paul nearly jumped out of his chair.
“No, no, no,” he said. “That’s not true. No way.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m with you.”
But he didn’t hear anything else I had to say.
“No,” he said. “This woman is a liar. None of this is possible. None of it.”
On the day of Ronnie’s discharge, I went to St. Vincent’s with Paul. There were papers to sign—lots of papers—and follow-up appointments to arrange. When all of that was finished, we began the long waiting process. Ronnie, like all the other patients, no matter their condition, had to be taken out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Strangely, the hospital didn’t have enough wheelchairs to facilitate the release of all its patients. So we waited. And we waited.
At one point, Paul left to use the restroom. I leaned close to Ronnie and said, “You knew we had another sister, didn’t you?”
He nodded. His skin looked a little pallid, and he’d lost some weight. But I saw the same life in his eyes he always had.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “I thought we were buddies.”
“Mom told me not to,” he said.
“Figures,” I said.
“She said she wanted to tell you,” he said. “She told me, ‘Ronnie, no surprises.’ So I kept my mouth shut.”
“Right. Mom didn’t like surprises. She sure sprung them on us, didn’t she?”
Ronnie wouldn’t say anything bad about Mom, even as a joke. He changed the subject. “Where is Eliz—I mean, Beth? Where is she?”
“She’s coming over tonight,” I said. “Once we’re home and you’re settled in, she wants to see you. She’s been worried about you.”
“With her family?” Ronnie asked.
“Yes. She has a big one. It’s not like our family.”
Ronnie seemed to consider this for a moment. “Mom said her family is our family now. Do you think that?”
I’d been thinking about it. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. No surprises. A sister. Nieces and nephews. Their children. It was a lot to take on. “I guess so,” I said. “I guess we’ll all have to get used to each other.”
“A lot of change,” Ronnie said.
“Yes. But we’ll be in the old house. You can be back in your old room. It’s just the way you left it.”
Paul came back into the room just then. He told us that he had seen an orderly in the hallway, and Ronnie was the next to go as soon as a wheelchair became available.
Ronnie shrugged, as if to say, I’ve heard it all before. Then his eyes opened wide, as though he just remembered something. “How are you going to go to school and stay with me?” he asked.
“I’ve worked it all out,” I said. “I’m withdrawing from my classes this semester.”
“You can’t quit,” Ronnie said.
“I’m not quitting,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking the rest of this semester off while we all try to get back to normal. I’ll figure out the next step around the holidays.”
“I don’t want you to quit school,” Ronnie said.
“She won’t,” Paul said. “Don’t worry.”
But Ronnie’s brow was still furrowed. I knew he tended to worry. He hated to upset people. He obviously felt a lot of guilt about the issues he’d had with Mom. I didn’t want anything else added to that.
I put my hand on his arm. “Ronnie, this is the best way. I’m happy about it.”
He looked at both of us. Paul and me. His entire support system.
“What is it?” Paul asked.
“Is it safe?” Ronnie asked. “You said the man who killed Mom is still out there. He hasn’t been arrested.”