Reunion (18 page)

They watched him go, knowing that he, too, was struggling to come to terms with the fact that his two best friends in the world had not trusted him enough to share their burden.

Laura’s heart went out to both men. “Go to him,” she told Gabriel. “You love each other. You can heal each other.”

Can’t find you.

Startled by the intrusion of the voice at this particular moment, they stared at each other in total silence.

Gabriel’s voice was bitter as he thumped himself hard in the chest.

“But who’s going to heal him, Laura? Who’s going to heal my brother?”

He walked away with a heavy heart.

I
t was threatening rain when Harry Wallis came to, and his first thought was, Daylight…thank God it’s daylight. It wasn’t the first time he’d awakened, but it
was
the first time he’d been able to see where he was.

Twice during the night, he remembered hearing traffic on the road above, and each time he’d tried unsuccessfully to make himself known. He could only assume he was in a deep ditch or they would have been able to see him. And now, with the impending dawn, he could tell his assumption was right.

He was flat on his back, faceup to a mist that was starting to fall, and all he could see was gray sky above him and dirt and grass all around him. His head hurt terribly, and his right leg felt as if it were on fire. Although he was a doctor of psychiatry, he remembered enough about medicine to guess that it was probably broken.

Get up. I’ve got to get up.
But when he tried, he fell back in the ditch with a groan. Something was wrong with his shoulder, too. Dislocated, he thought.

The mist was soaking into his clothes and his hair. He began to shiver. This wasn’t good. He lifted his head, then had to close his eyes momentarily until the world stopped spinning.

Carefully, he took several deep breaths, trying to prepare himself for another move. By his estimation, he’d been out here most of the night with untreated injuries. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was starting to rain in earnest.

He gritted his teeth. “Lord, help me.” Then he rolled until he was lying on his belly instead of his back. Inch by inch, he began to crawl, using his good arm and uninjured leg to maneuver. In spite of the chill of the drenching rain, he broke out in a sweat born of pain. If he didn’t get help soon, he would be adding pneumonia, at the least, to the problems he already had.

And then thunder ripped the heavens, belching through the elements. Harry jerked in reflex, groaning from the pain of the unexpected motion. But in that same deafening crash of uncontained fury, he remembered something he’d left undone.

Garrett Connor!

He had to be found before he took another life. With superhuman effort, Harry surged forward, emerging to the crest of the ditch. At that point his hopes dropped. He didn’t see any signs of people—no houses or traffic—only a ribbon of potholed pavement and a thick line of trees on both sides of the road. Fighting back despair, he began to call out for help.

Sometime later, he thought he heard voices, but by then he was too weak to care. He never heard the arrival of the first police car, or felt the pitch and roll of his body as he was strapped onto a gurney and shoved into the back of an ambulance. It was only after the siren began to sound as the ambulance sped away that Harry Wallis came to again.

He opened his eyes, blinking at the unexpected lights. There was so much confusion and so many strange faces. He hurt. Why was he hurting? And he was cold…so cold.

“His BP is dropping.”

Harry turned toward the voice. He knew what that meant. Blood pressure…his blood pressure was dropping. The faces hovering over him began to fade in and out of focus. He tried to think. There was something he needed to do.

“How long?” a paramedic shouted toward the driver up front.

“A minute, maybe two,” the driver answered back.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he only had a minute or two to live? No. That didn’t make sense. Why would they ask the driver?

“We’re almost there,” the driver yelled out.

Something clicked in Harry’s mind. The hospital. They were talking about the distance to the hospital. That was a good joke on him. If he hadn’t been so sleepy, he would have laughed. Someone was talking to him. He kept trying to listen, but they were talking too loud…no, too soft. He licked at his lips. They weren’t the only ones who had something to say.

“P’lice. Gotta call p’lice,” he mumbled.

A paramedic leaned toward him. “Sir, can you tell me your name?”

Harry’s mind was stuttering. They were asking him one thing, he needed to tell them another. He shook his head from side to side and tried to reach for his pocket. To his dismay, he couldn’t move his arms. It took several seconds for him to realize that he wasn’t paralyzed but merely strapped down.

Another voice came at him through the fog in his mind. “Sir, are you allergic to any medications?”

This time he knew the answer, and although his words were slurred, they understood what he was trying to say.

“Codeine. ’ergic to codeine.”

“That’s good, buddy, that’s good. Can you tell me your name?”

Harry took a deep breath, making himself focus on saying the words. People were depending on him to fix things. Those same people needed to know where he was.

“Wallis. Harry Wallis. Need p’lice. Tell p’lice.”

“We’ve got you, sir. You’re going to be all right.”

“No, no,” Harry muttered. “P’lice. Call p’lice. Need ’talk to p’lice.”

But no one was listening. And by the time they wheeled him into the operating room, he was in no condition to talk.

Kirby Summers turned off the highway and headed up the drive leading to the Connor residence. Three Oklahoma City police cars, as well as two other agents from the OSBI, followed him up to the house. When he parked and got out, the others followed.

Across the street, a neighbor in the act of trimming his hedge saw the array of vehicles turning in through the Connor gates and momentarily lost his focus by taking one snip too many, leaving a huge dip in the top of the shrub. When he realized what he’d done, he grimaced and threw down the shears in disgust. Now his wife was going to pitch a hissy fit for sure.

Kirby knocked, then rang the bell, too, patting his coat pocket and checking to make sure the arrest warrant was safely in place.

Matty saw the array of vehicles as she headed toward the door. Panic shafted through her. The last time officers had been standing on this doorstep, they’d come to tell her that Brent and Angela had died.

Kirby flashed his badge. “Ma’am, we have a warrant for Gabriel Connor’s arrest. Is he here?”

Matty gasped. Before Kirby could react, her eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped to the floor with a thud.

“Well, hell,” he muttered, and bolted inside.

Laura was standing out on the patio when she happened to turn. All she could see through the French doors were some people standing in the hallway and Matty lying on the floor.

Fear swamped her as her heart skipped a beat. She began waving and shouting at Gabriel, who was at the other end of the grounds, until she made him look up.

“Something has happened to Matty!” she screamed, and pointed toward the house.

When she saw him starting to run, she bolted inside without waiting for him to catch up. Within seconds, she was on her knees at Matty’s side and trying to figure out why Kirby Summers was there.

“My God,” she gasped. “What happened?”

Kirby grabbed Laura’s arm. “Where is Gabriel Connor?”

But Laura was too worried about Matty to do more than point.

Kirby glanced up, saw Connor coming in the distance, and rocked back on his heels. Time enough for the man to come to them.

Laura continued to feel for a pulse and rub Matty’s hands in a panicked motion. “What happened to her? Have you called for an ambulance?”

Kirby felt slightly embarrassed, but at this point it was too late to start over. This arrest wasn’t going exactly as planned. And although he didn’t think Laura Dane was the fainting type, he still decided he would wait for Connor before repeating why he’d come.

“She fainted,” he said shortly.

Laura could feel Matty’s pulse. It was strong and steady. Still, no one fainted without reason.

“Maybe we should call an ambulance. With the deaths of Gabriel’s parents and then the strain of his recovery, she’s been under a lot of stress.”

Kirby knew he was right in coming here, but he wasn’t feeling as good about this trip as he had when he started.

“I guess it was the surprise,” he muttered.

“What surprise?” Laura asked, but before Kirby could answer, Gabriel was on his knees beside Laura, cradling Matty’s head in his lap.

Pale with worry and slightly out of breath, he brushed a gentle hand across the old woman’s face. Her skin felt warm, her pulse steady. But he’d already lost more of his family than he could afford to; he didn’t think he could face losing her, too.

“What happened?” he asked, without looking up.

“They said she just fainted,” Laura said. “Should we call for an ambulance?”

Gabriel brushed a small strand of gray hair from her forehead. “Matty…Matty…can you hear me?”

When she didn’t respond, he glanced up at an officer who was standing in the doorway and pointed toward the powder room across the hall. “In there. Bring me a wet towel.”

The officer glanced toward Kirby, a little uncertain as to whether he was supposed to be following orders from the man they’d come to arrest. But Kirby nodded, and the officer did as Gabriel asked.

Moments later, with the wet cloth against her face and neck, Matty began to revive.

“What happened?” she mumbled, as Gabriel pulled her to a sitting position and leaned her against the wall.

“You tell me,” Gabriel said gently, still mopping at her face and neck with the damp towel.

“My head hurts. Why does my head hurt?”

Matty reached for the back of her head, groaning at the knot beneath her fingertips. As she looked up, her gaze fell on Kirby Summers. Although she was shaky, there was no mistaking her anger.

“Him! It was him!”

Kirby flushed and then stood, trying to regain his composure, but Gabriel stood with him, and the look he gave Kirby was not friendly at all.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

Kirby reached into his pocket and pulled out the warrant. “I didn’t do anything to her, and I’m sorry she fell before I could catch her.” Then he took a deep breath and shifted mental gears. “Gabriel Connor, I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Stevie Ray Hampton, houseman for Sadie Husser.”

Gabriel froze.

Laura bolted to her feet and jumped between Gabriel and Summers. “No, you’re making a mistake!”

Kirby smiled. “There’s no mistaking the test results of the DNA we took from Gabriel. It was a perfect match for what we took out from under Stevie Hampton’s fingernails.”

“That’s because it was Gabriel’s twin…his identical twin. Didn’t Dr. Wallis tell you?”

The muscles in Kirby’s belly began to tighten.

“I was given to understand that Gabriel Connor was an only child, and now you’re claiming he has a twin?”

“But it’s true. Dr. Wallis was—”

Kirby held up his hand. “Who’s Dr. Wallis?”

Laura was frantic. She knew how absurd this must appear, but what in the world had happened to Harry Wallis’s testimony? Why hadn’t he done as he promised?

“Cuff him,” Kirby ordered.

Laura spun around, frantic to stop this mistake before it got any worse.

“We didn’t know about the brother ourselves until yesterday evening,” she argued.

Kirby kept on walking.

She followed them all out the door.

“You don’t understand. His name is Garrett. He looks just like Gabriel, but he’s mentally disabled. Dr. Harry Wallis of Reed House is Garrett’s doctor. He left here last night and said he was going straight to the police.”

Kirby shook his head. “You’re pushing your luck, Miss Dane. I still have some questions about that crazy story you two fed me about psychics and dreams.”

Laura wanted to shake him. “It wasn’t crazy. Henry Loo did die, remember? And Gabriel was locked in your jail when it happened.”

Kirby spun sharply, pointing a finger in Laura’s face. “That’s just what I mean. You’re not out of the clear, either. If I find you two staged that stunt with some copycat killer to try to throw us off Gabriel Connor’s trail, you’ll be charged with aiding and abetting.”

Laura groaned with frustration. “You’re making a mistake.”

“And you’re pushing your luck,” Kirby retorted, then slid behind the wheel of his car. Just before he started the engine, he added, “Oh, and Miss Dane…don’t leave town.”

An officer pushed Gabriel’s head forward as he folded him into the back seat of the cruiser.

“Watch your head, sir,” he said.

But Gabriel was more worried about Laura than he was about bumping his head. She couldn’t stay here alone. Garrett was still out there, and if Laura was right, he was slowly heading toward this place like a pigeon searching for home.

“Laura, listen to me! Call Uncle Mike and then get out of this house.”

Laura reached for him, but someone pushed her out of the way and then closed the door in her face. Moments later, the police unit began to drive away, but she could still see Gabriel mouthing the words:
Get out of the house. Get out of the house.

She started running alongside the car, shaking her head in vehement denial.