Pier Pressure (36 page)

“It's Saturday afternoon,” Punt said. “You've lost a few hours, but you'll never miss them.”

“I want out of here. When can I go home?”

“That's up to the doctor,” the nurse said. “He'll be in later to see you. Right now you need to rest.”

“Seems to me I've been resting for a day or so. Where's Gram?”

“She's been here a lot. Would still be here now, but Nikko and I insisted she go home.”

“I want you to rest now,” the nurse insisted. “I'll bring you some tea and toast. Mr. Ashford, I'll have to ask you to leave, please.”

“No way.” I sat up again and forced strength into my voice, if not into my body. “If Punt goes, I go, too. We need to talk!”

The nurse eased me back onto my pillow, but she raised the head of the bed. “All right. You may talk for a few minutes while I get you something to eat.” She left the room, closing the door.

“Where's Shandy?” I demanded.

Punt hesitated before he gave me a kiss. “I'd take your hand if I could, but I hate holding bandages.”

“Where's Shandy?”

Punt sighed, but he looked me in the eye. “She's dead. As she tried to shove you into the sea, she slipped—and fell into the waves.”

“Nobody rescued her?”

“Impossible. We called the Coast Guard, the Marine Patrol. Water near the pier too shallow for their boats. They launched a dingy, but it sank before rescuers could board it. Her body washed to shore Friday afternoon.”

My heart thudded against my rising panic. “Police saying I murdered her?”

“Of course not. Forget that thought immediately.”

“We had enough circumstantial evidence against her to clear me of Margaux's death?” I asked.

“Yes, we had that. We also found your tape recorder turned on in your pocket.”

“The tape survived? I can't believe it. Water everywhere. Drenching everything.”

“That's true, but Detective Curry dried the tape. Water destroyed much of it, but some of it played—enough of it to convict Shandy of Margaux's murder and your attempted murder, had she lived. Detective Curry asked me to give you a message.”

I scowled. I wanted Detective Curry out of my life forever. “What did he say?”

Punt smiled. “He's afraid you won't feel like giving him a foot treatment today. Said you had scheduled him for Saturday afternoon. He wants to reschedule.”

I managed to smile. I even found I could laugh—weakly. “What can I say? Business is business.”

“Curry thinks you're a hero, Keely. So do I, and Keely, I want to talk to you about our lifestyles. They're quite well matched these days. We're both detectives.”

“Wrong. You and Nikko are detectives. I'm a foot reflexologist.”

Punt leaned to give me a deep kiss. “I love you, Keely. Once you get out of here, I want you to give my heart some alternative healing. It's been badly bruised.”

Sudden exhaustion almost overwhelmed me as I relaxed and smiled and muttered some words I could hardly hear.

“I feel sure I can help you, Punt. I never turn a needy patient away.”