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Back Murder Past Due Save as PDF
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Acknowledgements
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE

“My father—Ezra, I mean—is in the hospital. He got in a fight, and now he’s in bad shape.” He paused, his body trembling. “Can you take me to the hospital?”

FIVE

FIVE

I hate hospitals. I have spent far too much time in them, first with my parents and then with my wife. As I parked my car in a visitors’ lot at Athena Regional Medical Center, I remembered the last time I was here—when Aunt Dottie succumbed to pancreatic cancer. I was at her side, trying to see not her ravaged face and body, but the happy, healthy woman I adored.

Beside me, Justin unbuckled his seat belt, the sound breaking into my reverie. “I don’t like hospitals,” he said. “But I guess I have to go in.” He made no move to open his door, but he touched his bruised cheek a couple of times.

“I don’t like them either,” I said. “But your mother wants you to be here. She needs your support.” I opened my door. “Come on, let’s go in.”

Justin sighed heavily, but he did as I instructed.

He followed me, lagging a little behind, to the emergency room entrance. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go inside, not after what Ezra had done to him earlier.

I had no idea how serious Ezra’s condition might be. “Bad shape” could mean any number of things. Julia hadn’t given her son any details, but I doubted Ezra was in critical condition.

And if Ezra had been fighting, who was his opponent? The logical answer was Godfrey Priest. Was he injured as well?

Inside the ER, we paused at the desk to inquire about Ezra, but before I finished speaking, Julia appeared beside us.

She was better dressed than I remembered seeing her for a long time. Her usual shapeless cotton or polyester frock was gone, replaced by a serviceable black dress. Probably the one she wore to funerals, I decided. It gave her a certain dignity, offering a sharp contrast to her gray hair, pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck.

“Thank you for bringing him, Charlie,” Julia said. She touched Justin’s arm. Then she gasped as she saw the bruise on his cheek. She touched it gingerly, and Justin shied away. “Sweetie, what happened?”

“He hit me.” Justin glared at his mother.

Julia whirled to face me. “What on earth do you mean, striking him like that?” By the fire in her eyes I could see she was about ready to strike out at me.

“Not me,” I said, holding up a hand. “Calm down, Julia.”

“Then who?” Julia asked, turning back to Justin.