Chapter 7

Grace and Molly drove away in the Silverado, poorer by ten bucks but richer by one pair of neon pink leg warmers and a new suspect.

"I don't know, Grace. She seems too ditzy to have committed murder. She thinks her cats talk to her." Molly fingered the paper bag with the leg warmers in it, folding the top over and pressing it neatly. "Besides, she said his head was bashed in, and we know that wasn't the case."

"Maybe it's just an act, something to throw us off the trail. She could have done it. She sure sounded pretty sincere when she said it wasn't murder, it was justice. Either way, I think we should go talk to Albert Herves. His name seems to pop up a lot."

"Well, sure. He's the one who lost everyone's money in Jeremy's Ponzi scheme."

"And a very good person to be a suspect. Kill the guy who stole your client's money and left you holding the bag? And where is that money, by the way? Have the cops found it? You sure as shit don't have it," Grace said.

Molly laughed. "Ain't that the truth! I won't even be able to afford to feed myself once I burn through my meager savings."

"You don't need to worry. I told you. I have money for both of us."

Molly smirked. "Well, it won't take the cops long to go through my finances. After, they'll probably all have a good laugh." She sobered and took Grace's hand. "I'm really sorry, Grace. For dragging you into all this."

"For the last time, you didn't do anything. The only people to blame for this are Jeremy Prada and whoever killed him." Grace nodded as if to herself. "My money is on Herves. He's got the most to lose in this. If they can prove he knew it was a Ponzi scheme, he could go to jail for a long time. Killing Jeremy might have been his exit strategy."

She pulled away from the curb and started driving again. "But you know what? That can wait. It's lunchtime, and I'm hungry. Are you?"

Molly shrugged. "I could eat."

"How about Chips and Burgers? Feel like a burger?"

"That sounds perfect!"

Grace smiled and was just beginning to make a left onto Conifer Avenue when suddenly there was a loud crash, and her world turned upside down. She hit her head, and everything went black.

***

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me? Wake up now." The voice was insistent, refusing to be ignored. "Ma'am? Wake up."

Grace heard the masculine voice but couldn't place it. Why was a man in her bedroom, telling her to wake up? Her eyes blinked a couple of times, the light hurting her head. She finally held them open part-way, squinting.

"What's your name?" The voice came from a handsome young man dressed in a blue uniform. The embroidered tag over his nameplate read "EMT."

"Um…Grace. Grace Conroy."

"Good. Grace, I'm John. You were in a car accident. Somebody hit your truck and flipped it over. We're going to get you out of here, okay?"

"W-wait…M-molly. Where's Molly?"

"The woman with you? We're going to get to her next. We have to get you out to get to her."

Grace tried to turn to see Molly, but her neck was constrained by some sort of neck brace.

"No, try to keep still. You may have a neck injury. We'll have you out in no time." John pulled away from the window and Grace heard a grinding noise. Then her truck door was removed by firefighters, and EMTs were sliding her onto a backboard.

"Molly! Molly!" She cried.

"I'm here, Grace," Molly called back. She sounded weak, but at least she was alive.

Grace was placed on a stretcher, but before she could be lifted into the waiting ambulance, a familiar face loomed over her.

Sheriff Maverick.

"Stay still and stay calm. Everything will be okay," Maverick said. "Do you have any idea who hit you?"

Grace blinked "Huh? Aren't they here?"

"No. It was a hit-and-run. I've got my deputies talking to people, seeing if there are any witnesses."

"I never even saw them coming. I have no idea what hit us." Grace closed her eyes for a second, then they popped open again. "Sheriff, what about Molly? Is she okay?"

"They're getting her out now. She looks pretty banged up, but I think she's okay. Look, you need to go. We'll talk more later."

"Thanks, Sheriff," Grace said. Then she closed her eyes again and kept them closed this time.

The ride to the hospital was uncomfortable and interminable; the beeping machines and, although it sounded further away, the siren wailing, and EMTs poking and prodding her, and they never seemed to arrive at the emergency bay.

The EMTs kept waking her up, too, which was completely irritating because all she wanted to do was sleep. She was in pain, she was exhausted, she had a splitting headache, and she wanted a nap. Damn it.

Finally, the ambulance came to a stop and the rear doors opened. She was lifted to the ground and wheeled inside the hospital Emergency Room.

A nurse was waiting. "The doctor wants some x-rays taken, Ms. Conroy. That's correct, isn't it? Grace Conroy?"

"Yeah, that's me. I've got a really bad headache. Any chance of getting some meds?" Grace wanted the pain to go away. Then they could do whatever they wanted to her.

"As soon as the doctor sees the x-rays, he'll be in to talk to you. In the meantime, I'll ask if there's something we can give you for the pain." The nurse drew the curtain closed around Grace's cubicle and turned the lights down. Then she walked off, her shoes squeaking on the tile.

"Wait! Where's Molly? What happened to Molly?"

No one answered her this time. Instead, a technician rolled in a portable x-ray machine.

"Do you know what happened to Molly?" Grace asked. The technician looked blurry to her, and she could only manage a whisper. Must be the headache, she thought.

"I'm sorry. I'm just here to take the x-ray." He smiled at her and positioned the X-ray over her neck. He stepped out of the cubicle, pressed a button, and returned. After a few more views, he took his machine and left.

Grace lay there dozing, until the nurse came back in. "We can give you some Tylenol for the pain, and you're getting fluids through your IV."

Grace hadn't even noticed that they'd put in a line. I really must be out of it , she thought. "Do you know what happened to Molly?"

"Is that the woman who was in the car with you?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, that's her."

"Are you a relative?"

"Huh? No, we're friends."

The nurse sighed. "Then I can't share any information with you. I'm sorry."

Grace tried to shake her head, but it was still immobilized. "You have to. Is she okay? Just tell me that much."

She kept silent, exchanged the empty IV bag for a full one, and left, ignoring Grace's pleas to tell her about Molly.

Grace looked at her IV and noticed it was attached to one of those poles on wheels. She threw back the sheet covering her, sat up, and waited for the wave of dizziness and nausea to pass. There were rails up on the sides of her bed, probably to keep her from falling out because she'd banged her head. They were not going to stop her from finding Molly, though. With the utmost care, and not just a little bit of difficulty, she climbed over them, easing herself to the other side. Once she got her footing, she grabbed the IV pole and left her cubicle. An alarm sounded, but she ignored it.

"Molly? Molly?" She tried to call out, but all that she managed was a hoarse whisper. Damn, the lights are bright out here. They hurt. She squinted, looking in each cubicle. There was an old lady, shriveled and buried under several blankets in one, and a younger man with a bandaged arm in another.

"Hey! What are you doing?" The nurse who had treated Grace caught up to her.

"I'm looking for my friend. You won't tell me if she's okay, so I'm going to see for myself."

"She's fine. You need to come back to bed now, hon." The nurse caught Grace's elbow. "Everything is okay."

"Let me go right now or you'll find your ass on the floor," Grace growled, and pulled her arm away. "I need to see to make sure Molly is okay."

"Grace?" A weak voice called from one of the cubicles.

Grace turned in the direction from which she'd heard the voice. "Molly?"

"Here. I'm in here."

Grace walked unsteadily toward the sound of Molly's voice. She slipped into the cubicle and found Molly in bed. "Oh, Molly! I'm so glad to see you." Grace felt tears welling up and spilling over. She hadn't realized how much she'd come to care for Molly in only a couple of days. Sure the days had been intense with everything that had happened, but still, it felt like she'd known Molly a lot longer than she had.

"Oh, don't cry," Molly said, her face streaked with tears of her own and reached for Grace.

Grace hugged her gently and gave her a soft kiss.

"I'm okay. Really," Molly said.

Grace noticed Molly's return hug had been one-handed. The other arm was immobilized. "What happened?"

"They think it's broken. It's nothing. Just a little fracture. A tiny crack. Maybe not even that. We're waiting on the x-ray." She cocked her head. "What about you?"

"I'm fine," Grace said, her voice firm but whispery.

"You don't sound fine."

The curtain slid back, and a security guard stood in the opening. "Ma'am? You need to get back to your bed now ."

The nurse was there, too. "Please, Ms. Conroy, you need to get back to your bed."

"Grace! What did you do?" Molly cried.

"Nothing. She tried to keep me from finding you. I don't know why she had to get security involved."

The security guard looked like he'd just sucked a lemon. "Just get back in bed, please. You may have a concussion. You need to lie down."

"A concussion! Oh, Grace, honey, go lay down." Molly gave Grace a slight push with her good hand. "I'm fine. It's just my arm. I'll come see you as soon as they're finished with me here."

Grace sighed heavily but did as she was told. As she walked past the security guard, she gave him the stink eye. The nurse took her arm again and escorted her back to her cubicle.

"Ms. Conroy?" A male doctor in a white coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck poked his head into her cubicle. "I'm Dr. Char. I have the results of your x-ray. It seems you have a slight concussion but no evidence of a brain bleed. I'm going to release you but with strict orders to rest. That means you stay in bed for at least two days, except when it's absolutely necessary for you to get up. No activities at all. I don't even want you to read or play video games — I want your brain to rest, too. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sure. Just lay in bed. Sounds like a horror."

He chuckled. "Most people find it more difficult to do than one might imagine." He took out an iPad and made a few notes. "I'm going to order something for your pain. Use ice packs on the swelling and follow up with your personal physician. If the pain gets worse, if you start to see double, or there's any vomiting, bloody discharge from your nose or ears, or really, anything out of the ordinary, you are to come right back here. Understood?"

"Gotcha."

He nodded. "Okay, then. You can pick up your prescription in the hospital pharmacy next to the gift shop. Oh, and there's somebody outside here who wants to speak to you."

She brightened, thinking it was Molly. "Okay, sure. And thanks, doc."

He gave her a nod and a smile and stepped out.