THIRTY-EIGHT
Two suspects behind bars—Tony Bishop and Harold Armstrong. Maybe if it wasn’t for the dark shadow cast overhead like thunderclouds, Amanda could take some satisfaction in the case getting resolved. But Scott Malone’s MRI had revealed “something,” and that weighed on her. There were other parts of the arrests that niggled. And which man was the killer—the husband or Harold Armstrong, there for Alicia Gordon since she began New Belle? At this point they could only put pentobarbital in Tony’s hands, but they were just getting started with Harold.
He had denied delivering any threat to Tony Bishop, but even if he was guilty, why would he admit it? And despite his pleas of innocence, he made it clear he wouldn’t be saying another word until his lawyer arrived. They were securing warrants to confiscate Harold’s tablet to see if they could find the emails sent to Alicia, Eve Kelley, and the others who had bid on buying New Belle.
“Detectives.”
Amanda and Trent looked up to see Police Chief Jeff Buchanan standing outside their cubicles. She stood, Trent did too.
“Chief, is there something I can help you with?” she asked him. Buchanan was an unassuming-looking man, in his fifties, with gray hair and a pleasant demeanor. He wore his position of power with grace from outward appearances.
“I was looking for an update on the case, but I’ve come to find out you have two men in custody for the same murder.” His gaze was leveled at her as the senior detective.
She wasn’t sure what to make of his words and their delivery. Was he finding it ridiculous she had two suspects being held at the same time? “Both men have given us reason to question their innocence.”
“Solid reason, I hope.”
“Yes, of course.”
Buchanan glanced at Trent. “Which way are things leaning?”
“Still a little early to say, sir,” Trent said.
Amanda went on to give the chief the highlights and point out they were in a bit of a holding pattern at the moment. She was interrupted by her phone ringing. She flinched. With Malone in the hospital she wanted to answer, but what sort of impression would that leave on the chief?
“Go ahead, Detective Steele,” Buchanan told her. “I’ll wait.”
Amanda consulted caller ID. “It’s my mother. Probably with news about Malone.”
Buchanan gestured for her to go ahead and take the call. “Definitely answer.”
She didn’t wait for further approval. “Mom?” She listened as her mother told her to get to the hospital immediately. The update she had to share wasn’t one she was giving over the phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Amanda told her. She ended the call, and Buchanan and Trent were watching her. “I guess it’s not good news.” She swallowed roughly. “My mother wants to tell me in person.”
“Go,” Buchanan said. “We’ll manage here. Besides, as you said, things with the case are at a bit of a standstill while you wait on that lawyer.”
“Ah, Chief,” Trent said, speaking up. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go with Amanda.”
She had no past history with Buchanan to know how he’d respond to the request.
“Of course, go with her. You’re partners.” Buchanan gave them a small, yet genuine smile. “Keep me posted, Detective Steele, on Malone’s condition.”
“I will.” She and Trent hustled from the station. That had been her first interaction with Buchanan, and he was all right in her book. Certainly an improvement over his predecessor but that wouldn’t be a hard feat.
Trent insisted on driving Amanda to the hospital, and despite her stubborn protests that she’d be fine on her own, he won that particular battle.
Amanda ran through the hospital doors to her mother. Her dad was talking in a huddle with Ida and her sons. Paul’s wife was there now, but no sign of his kids. Could she take that as some sort of reassurance? No one needed to say their last goodbyes, or was it to shield the Malone grandchildren?
“What is it, Mom?” The words rushed out, but she managed to keep her voice low. They were seated in a grouping of chairs away from everyone else.
“There is a growth in his brain.” Her mother paused, letting the dire update sink in.
Tears gathered in Amanda’s eyes and fell down her cheeks, which she quickly wiped away, determined to be strong for everyone else. She glanced over at Ida and her sons. What would come of all of them? But maybe she was getting ahead of herself. “What’s the prognosis?”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “It’s hard to say whether it’s cancer or not, but given where it’s located, operating will be tricky and require an especially skilled surgeon.”
“He’s been acting differently. Sometimes moody.” Amanda’s mind was processing the news in pieces and tried to assign logic—if only as a distraction from acceptance.
“That can be caused by the tumor.”
Tumor.Somehow hearing the growth described in that way nailed home the seriousness of the situation. “And how long does he…” Amanda couldn’t even bring herself to finish. He was fine just two days ago, up, walking around, talking… Life freaking sucked sometimes!
“Let’s not leap to this being the end.”
“Mom, it sure sounds like it is!” Her entire body was shaking.
“All I said was that operating on it would be tricky. It’s a matter of finding the right doctor, someone who’s qualified for this particular surgery.”
She blinked away the tears clouding her vision. She could hardly draw a full breath. It felt like her chest was caving in on itself. If she wasn’t sitting she’d collapse.
Her mother squeezed Amanda’s shoulders. “Just stay strong, okay? Or fake it. Be there for your dad and the Malone family.”
Amanda went cold. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder from behind. She expected it would be her father, but it was Trent. She put a hand over his and patted it appreciatively. “I just can’t believe that…” She sobbed. Her determination to be strong for everyone else was crumbling like an old stone wall. Her mother hugged her, and Trent stepped back, allowing the two of them space.
A few moments later, Amanda pulled herself together and stood. She had to say something to Ida, Paul, and Sam, but what? There was nothing she could say that would make this better, that would bring Scott Malone’s health back, that would bring a qualified doctor to them immediately.
Amanda went to Ida first, grazing her father’s arm on the way, and pulled Ida into a tight embrace. Everyone’s eyes were full of tears. She offered words of support and sympathy to the family and her father.
Sam, the eldest Malone son, was rigid and cold, trying to remain logical and detached. Amanda recognized the defense mechanism. Deny the bad news, and it didn’t exist.