‘Well, yes, but—’
‘And we all have our dark sides. Don’t forget I spent last night pushing my beloved husband off a cliff to his death. And I liked it.’ Nikki paused, then broke into a broad grin.
Gretchen exhaled.
OK. That was a joke. She’s joking.
Black humor was a well-known coping mechanism for grief. Gretchen might not be a therapist, but even she knew that. Still, she found Nikki worryingly difficult to read these days. Joke or no joke, something was off about her, and that something seemed to be getting worse, not better.
This murder, coming on top of everything else, had clearly added to the stress she was under. One more blow and Gretchen worried Nikki might unravel completely.
The sooner they caught the maniac that did it, the better.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was five o’clock by the time Haddon Defoe arrived at the hospital. Taking the elevator to the fifth floor, past the Addiction Recovery Clinic where he worked a couple of days a week, he hurried down the corridor, praying he wasn’t too late. But when the nurses directed him to the Family Counseling Suite his heart sank. That could only mean one thing.
Marsha Raymond’s tear-stained face instantly confirmed Haddon’s worst suspicions.
‘He’s gone, Dr Defoe.’ Trey’s mother shook her head, her lower lip trembling. ‘’Bout fifteen minutes ago. I was sitting in there with him, holding his hand, and all of a sudden his heart jus’ stops beating. He never said one mo’ word after those police left this morning. They should never’ve been here, that’s what the doctor said.’
Instinctively, Haddon pulled the grieving woman into his arms and held her. His own mind was racing wildly. It was all too much to take in. Only an hour and a half had gone by since Marsha had called him, giving him a garbled story about Trey being kidnapped and knifed and in the hospital, and begging him to come. He’d driven to Cedars as fast as he could, his mind jumping between thoughts of Trey and what the hell could have happened, and his old friend Doug Roberts, who had loved the boy like a son. What would Doug have made of all of this? And now Haddon was here but he was too late. Trey Raymond was dead. But not before the police had been here, quizzing him, defying his doctor’s orders. The whole thing was a mess.
‘He was cut, more than fifty times!’ Marsha wailed, extricating herself at last from Haddon’s embrace and sinking into an armchair. ‘They stabbed him in the heart, stripped him, and dumped him by the road. They musta thought he was dead.’
Yes, thought Haddon. They must have.
‘Who would do that, Doc Defoe? Who would do that to my baby?’
‘I don’t know, Marsha,’ Haddon said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I don’t want sorry.’ The small woman’s head shot up, her eyes alive with anger. ‘I want to know WHY. I want to know WHO. My Trey never hurt nobody, Doc. He made his mistakes in the past, we all know that. But he was clean. He was a good boy. He had a new life, everything ahead of him! Dr Roberts …’ Her voice broke, and the tears came again in a great flood, leaving the thought unfinished.
‘Have the police said anything to you?’ Haddon asked gently.
Marsha shook her head, still distraught.
‘Does Nik— Dr Roberts know?’
Another shake. ‘Nobody knows. Only you. You the first. He’s not even cold, Doc!’
A family liaison nurse appeared at the door as the sobbing began again, but Haddon waved her away. ‘I’m a family friend, Nurse. I’ll handle this.’
He turned back to Marsha. ‘Would you like me to talk to the police? And to let Nikki know what’s happened?’
Marsha Raymond dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she sniffed. ‘I’d appreciate that. I need to get back to my mother. She’s waiting at home for news. And then, I guess … arrangements …?’
‘Don’t worry about any of that,’ Haddon said smoothly. ‘Let me handle it. I’ll speak to the police and we can take it from there. You just focus on Coretta. I truly am so sorry, Marsha. He was a very special young man.’
Trey Raymond’s mother smiled gratefully through her tears.
‘You’re a good man, Dr Defoe. Thank you for coming.’
‘No problem.’ Haddon hugged her again. ‘Call me if you need anything.’
Nikki had no sooner stepped out of the shower than she heard the doorbell. Wrapping her wet hair in a towel, turban style, and slipping on Doug’s over-sized toweling robe that she still wore in moments she needed to feel close to him, she raced downstairs.
‘Haddon! What a nice surprise.’