a Hardy Boys fan myself,” I said.
“Me, too,” Edward said.
“I had a crush on Nancy when I was a kid,” Newman said.
“I do not know who this Nancy Drew is or the Hardy men,” Olaf said.
“I knew you missed Sherlock Holmes, but didn’t you ever read any kind of mystery as a kid?” I asked.
“No,” he said, and that one word put a stop to the conversation.
We got our jackets and headed to the hospital. As I settled into the passenger seat of Edward’s rental, I could have sworn I could feel Olaf’s gaze on the back of my head. Maybe if Olaf and I had that coffee date, I could ask him what he liked to read. Yeah, that sounded swell.
I turned in my seat and managed a smile. “If you move over and sit behind Edward, I’ll be able to look at you while we talk on the drive.”
“Would looking at me please you?”
“Yes,” I said, smiling even more brightly.
So long as he didn’t ask why it would please me to look at him, we were good. He could think it was so I could admire his scary good looks, and I could feel safer, not having him pressed at my back in the car. He didn’t question why I wanted him to move over. He just did it. Perfect.
44
SOMEONE HAD PROPPED Jocelyn’s pillows up behind her, so she was sitting up this time. Her reddish brown curls were still almost eerily perfect, as if someone had done her hair before we got here. Maybe the back of her head was all mushed the way that my curls were when I lay down, but the front was bouncy and framed her face perfectly. If we hadn’t been there for a murder investigation, I might have asked what hair-care products she used for such manageable curls. Her large brown eyes still bothered me, like I was still waiting for her mother’s green eyes to appear in her face. Her wide, curved mouth was shiny and had a tinge of color like she’d used lip gloss. The color was wet and even and stayed put as she sipped diet soda through a straw, so it was high-end lip gloss.
Jocelyn stirred her fork through the tray of hospital food in front of her, but it didn’t look like she’d eaten any of it. I wasn’t sure if it was grief or a critique of the food. She stared at the food instead of at any of us. It reminded me of Bobby avoiding our eyes earlier. Maybe it was a family trait? I wondered if her mother or Ray Marchand had done it and Jocelyn and Bobby had both learned it as children. Since both parents were dead now, I guessed I’d never know.
Olaf stayed by the door this time so he wouldn’t “tower” over the patient. Edward stayed a little back from the bed, too. Newman and I stood directly beside the bed. We’d all discussed our strategy on the drive over. We didn’t want to give Jocelyn any extra reason to get spooked before we’d asked our questions. Newman and I were the least physically intimidating, and he was lead marshal, so we got to take lead on the interrogation.
Dr. Jameson stood across the bed from us with the tall nurse who had gone to fetch him on our first visit. He’d introduced her as Nurse Trish, as if her first name were her last. Nurse Trish was over a head taller than the doctor, which meant either she was even taller than I’d first thought, or the doctor was shorter than he’d seemed. I had a moment of wanting to see her stand next to Olaf so I could get a firm height on her. Her pale brown hair was styled more today so that the tips of the short haircut framed her face on purpose in delicate pixielike points that seemed more club kid than RN. Her smock was pink again, but instead of kittens it was covered in unicorns. No, really, unicorns.
“In the interest of potentially saving lives, I will allow you to question my patient, but I warn you to tread carefully, or I will have security escort you off the property.”
Dr. Jameson seemed serious. I almost wanted to see what would happen if hospital security tried to kick us out. On second thought, I didn’t. We were here as U.S. Marshals. We’d have to behave ourselves, and that wouldn’t be any fun at all.
“Thank