Sorrow Road (Bell Elkins #5) - Julia Keller Page 0,56

custody.”

She filled him in on her visit to Thornapple Terrace, and on the fact that Marcy Coates was the aide who had found each of the three deceased residents. He knew about Darlene Strayer’s death on Saturday night; Bell had mentioned her name to him in the past, when Darlene was involved in a run of big cases.

“I’d been meaning to give you a call about that,” Nick said. “Express my condolences.”

“Well, now you’ve got a chance to do more than just mumble some empty platitudes in my direction,” she shot back. She knew he would not get mad, but instead would appreciate the point of her visit. “Help me think this through, Nick. Did Marcy’s job at the Terrace have something to do with her death? It’s tempting to think so—but how to prove it? And even if there is a connection somewhere, and Marcy gave Mother Nature a little nudge, so what? Three old people with late-stage Alzheimer’s die in their sleep. Not exactly hot news, you know? Not even much of a tragedy. More like mercy.”

“And you’ve still got Darlene’s death. And her suspicions about her father’s passing.” Nick’s voice was ruminative.

“Yes. But the truth is, every single thing that has happened—Darlene’s accident, the deaths at the Terrace, even the murder of the two old women—could have another explanation entirely. They might not be linked at all. It sounds like a lot of bodies, but except for the deaths of Marcy Coates and Connie Dollar, these are probably not criminal justice matters at all. Just happenstance. Inevitability.”

“What does your staff say about it?” Nick believed that most people in the world were fundamentally overrated, but he had an abiding respect for Rhonda Lovejoy and Hickey Leonard. He had worked with them on enough cases over the years to know who they were.

“Wish I knew,” Bell said.

“Pardon?”

“We haven’t had a staff meeting in a while. Rhonda was getting ready to try the Charlie Vickers case, but she needed an emergency family leave. So Hick took over for her. He’s up to his ears in trial prep, trying to be ready for next week.”

“What’s going on with Rhonda?”

“Her grandmother had a stroke on Tuesday night—the night they found the bodies. Not expected to make it. The news was just too much for her to handle. Grandma Lovejoy was best friends with Connie Dollar. Blames herself, apparently, for not trying to reach Connie earlier.” Bell shook her head. “She’s Rhonda’s paternal grandmother. Rhonda’s been really close to her since she was a little girl. And you know Rhonda—her family is her life. There’s no way I wouldn’t grant her the leave.”

“Well,” he said. “At least you’ve got the sheriff to talk it over with. Discuss strategy.”

Bell grimaced. “I respect the hell out of Pam, but you know how she operates. Makes up her mind early. After that, it takes an act of God or Congress to get her to change it. And neither one of those parties is much concerning themselves with the deaths of a bunch of old folks in West Virginia.” Last year, Pam Harrison had persuaded Bell to prosecute a man for a murder that, evidence later proved, he did not commit. The rush to judgment was a habit to which Harrison seemed permanently inclined. It was her only significant flaw, as Bell saw it—but it was a doozy. From that moment on, Bell had relied less and less on Harrison’s instincts and perspective. Harrison would never be to Bell what Nick Fogelsong had been. Never again would Bell bring her into the innermost circle of her thoughts.

“And the sheriff,” Nick says, “believes it was a crime of opportunity.”

“Yes.”

“Even though Marcy Coates worked at the Terrace.”

“Yes.” Bell’s frustration showed through in her voice. “I’m going to keep pushing, of course. Talk to Marcy’s family. Find out the circumstances surrounding her discovery of those three bodies at the Terrace. But I sure wish I had Rhonda and Hick to help me think it through.”

“It’s a shame you can’t rely on Clay. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, that one. But he’s a civilian.” A slight chuckle. “Hell, so am I, come to that. Better watch what you tell me, young lady. Professional ethics and all.”

She was quiet.

“Hey,” he said. “I was kidding. I’m grandfathered in, right? As the former sheriff?”

“Right.”

Her mind was elsewhere. Should she tell him? Jesus, she wanted to. She wanted to tell him the whole story, right here and right now, because Nick