of Simon’s place. He had a small ranch home with an attached garage and a nice green lawn. The listings here were cottages mostly, or places that looked like ski lodges, or extremely small houses that were right on the lake. Simon’s place had a short walk down a narrow path to a small rocky beach where you could swim or launch a kayak or a canoe, neither of which Simon owned.
“So, none of these?” Ben said, as he scrolled through the list again.
“No, none.”
Next, Ben checked out VRBO, another rental website he knew about. The properties here were similar, some were the same, but none were Simon’s robin’s-egg-blue ranch home. We checked Craigslist and a few other sites Ben found using Google, but again not one of them listed Simon’s home.
“Maybe he is rich,” I said. “I mean rich enough that he doesn’t have to rent out his place.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Ben, a bit absently, because he was thinking of something. “But why bother lying about renting it?”
I fell silent until a thought struck me.
“I don’t know why,” I said. “But I may know someone who might help us figure it out.”
CHAPTER 43
Unable to sit still, Nina paced the tiled floor in the main lobby of Lakes Region General Hospital, waiting for Ginny and Susanna to arrive. Ginny cried upon learning the horrible news from Nina. She was Dr. Wilcox’s patient as well, and Susanna had asked to join the quick noontime visit as a supportive friend.
She called Simon to share the terrible news. He stammered before he spoke—shocked, she thought, like everyone.
“So, she’s … she’s definitely going to make it?”
Nina found his phrasing odd. He did not sound hopeful, but more like he couldn’t believe it was possible.
“The doctors aren’t sure,” Nina said. “I’m at the hospital now. Ginny and Susanna are on their way.”
There was a long pause.
“Okay,” he said, lengthening the word as if in thought. “That’s just awful. I’m really sorry. Keep me posted, will you?”
Nina told him she would and said her good-byes.
As she waited, a recurring question spun a web through her mind, trapping her thoughts: Who would have done this? Was it a patient? Someone with a grudge? Or was it simply a random attack? Nina pushed aside those questions to focus on her friends. She realized it was the first time in ages that Las Tres Amigas had been together, but the grim circumstances made it a joyless reunion. They hugged, Ginny dabbing at her eyes, causing Nina’s eyes to fill as well.
“What have you heard?” Susanna asked.
“Let’s go,” said Nina. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
They signed in as visitors and followed the signs to the third floor, where Dr. Wilcox had been moved after leaving the ICU. To everyone’s collective disappointment, she was asleep when they arrived. A sweet-faced nurse agreed to let them leave the bright bouquet Ginny had purchased, along with a card Nina had selected.
The cubicle was small and crammed with machines. Nina didn’t know a thing about all of the tubes, IVs, and equipment hooked up to Dr. Wilcox, but she had no difficulty understanding the extent of damage someone had inflicted on her.
Gauze bandages covered much of her head, and hideous black-and-blue bruises made Dr. Wilcox’s face somewhat unrecognizable. Did she fight off her attacker? Nina wondered. Are those defensive injuries to her hands? Did her assailant use a knife? Nina swallowed hard. Her gaze traveled back to the battered and bandaged face, taking in the horrific stain of violence.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Can I touch her hand?”
The nurse to whom Nina directed her question returned a quick nod. “She’s heavily medicated, but I’m sure she knows you’re here and I’m sure she’s grateful.”
They stayed only a few minutes, as instructed, before taking themselves to the coffee shop across the street from the hospital. Nina got their drinks without needing to ask for anybody’s order: a chai latte for Susanna, an espresso for herself, and a green tea for Ginny. It was a reminder of how close she was to these women, how well she knew their tastes, personality quirks, everything, and how little she’d seen them lately. Again, Nina found herself crediting Simon’s prescience. She was no longer readily available to anybody—not just her daughter.
Nina carried the drinks over to the table where Ginny and Susanna sat talking.
“I can’t get over how awful she looked,” Ginny said, giving her tea a cautious sip.
The women talked for a time about Dr. Wilcox, the