Alvarez slid into the passenger seat. “Let’s go,” she said in an out-of-character display of disobeying her commanding officer.

“What?” Hattie Grayson dropped the jar of jam she’d been holding. The small container shattered on her kitchen floor, shards of glass flying, sticky strawberry jam spraying in thick clumps. “No. Not Dan. Not Dan!”

She stared into the tortured gaze of Dan’s brother Cade, who had just driven over to give her the news that cracked her world in two. Disregarding the spilled jam and shards of glass, she fell into his arms. Tears welled and she felt as if they’d started in the center of her soul. She’d known Dan all her life, been married to Bart, one of his brothers, and had half-fancied herself in love with him before reuniting with Cade. The Grayson brothe

rs—all four of them, including Big Zed—had been the center of her universe.

Now two of the brothers were gone. Bart’s death had been ruled a suicide, though she was certain that he’d been killed. Dan had been murdered by a maniac as well, someone he should never have trusted.

“I don’t want to believe it.”

“Me neither.”

“The bastard who did this—”

“Will pay.”

That much was true. Dan’s assailant was already captured and behind bars, fighting his own injuries.

Still, the rage at the man who’d snatched Dan’s life away burned deep. “I hope he rots in hell.”

Cade’s strong arms folded her tight against him. “I know.”

Thank God he didn’t say “it will be all right” or any other platitude, because deep in Hattie’s heart, she knew that it would never be. With Dan Grayson’s easygoing strides no longer walking the earth, the planet would be an emptier, colder place. He’d been so good to her, to her twin daughters, to everyone in Grizzly Falls. At least she had time to pull herself together before she told her girls. Mallory and McKenzie would be as devastated as she was. A coldness settled over her and she shivered in Cade’s embrace.

“First Bart, now Dan,” she whispered, drinking in the smell of the man holding her so close. The scents of leather and horses clung to him and filled her nostrils. “I don’t want to believe this, Cade. I just . . . I just can’t. There’s got to be a mistake.”

“I wish, darlin’,” he said, his own voice rough, his warm breath ruffling her hair. His jaw was scratchy with beard-stubble, his eyes a deep, somber gray, all of the carefree, bad-boy attitude gone. He squeezed her a little more tightly and his voice cracked as he said, “God, don’t I wish.”

The hospital was remarkably calm, Alvarez thought, almost as if the whole world surrounding Grizzly Falls hadn’t changed drastically with the passing of Sheriff Dan Grayson. Yes, there was a news camera crew outside. Nia Del Ray, a reporter for KMJC, was standing near the sign at the entrance of Northern General Hospital, snow catching on her short black hair as she was probably reporting on Grayson’s demise, unless some other story had trumped his, which Alvarez doubted.

Inside the wide hallways, the floors gleamed under bright lights, conversation hummed, and people went about their work as if nothing monumental had just gone down within the hospital’s walls. Near a placard that listed those who had donated to the hospital, she and Pescoli stepped around a woman with a cast on her leg, being wheeled down the hallway by the orderly, after which they nearly ran into an elderly man who had suddenly stopped for no apparent reason.

“Sorry,” he apologized, blinking as if he’d been in a daze.

They moved past him to the elevators. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Pescoli said, slapping the call button just as the doors to one of the cars opened and a group of three women emerged.

“Tell me.” Alvarez walked into the car.

Once they were inside and the elevator doors had whispered shut, Pescoli pounded her fist on the button for the second floor. “That the son of a bitch who took down Grayson just lost his GET OUT OF JAIL card forever. No more attempted in the charge. He’s going down for murder.”

The doors opened and they stepped into the wide hallway, again brightly lit and complete with alcoves, benches and chairs, and a wide nurse’s station at the center of it all.

They walked up to the desk and a woman seated at a computer looked up. Pescoli showed her badge and said, “Detective Regan Pescoli, Pinewood County Sheriff’s Department. This is my partner Detective Alvarez. We have some questions about . . . about the sheriff . . . Dan Grayson . . . and what happened to him. We’d like to talk to the supervisor of the floor and his doctor, whoever was in charge of his care.”

Alvarez’s gaze shifted to Pescoli, whose green eyes shifted in hue with the light.

Under the glare of the hospital’s illumination they were a light jade color and hard as stone. Athletic and tall, with sharp features and a penetrating gaze, she was intimidating. An ex-basketball player, Pescoli wasn’t afraid to get into anyone’s face and bore more than her share of battle scars as a no-nonsense police officer and single mother. She was glaring at the small, nervous-looking nurse behind the desk as if the poor woman was a hardened criminal.

“I’ll get Rinalda, uh, Mrs. Dash. She’s in charge,” the girl behind the desk said.

Before either of the detectives could thank her, a booming female voice carried up the hall. “Is there a problem, Stephanie?”

In her peripheral vision, Alvarez caught a glimpse of a slim woman quickly approaching. Tall, African-American with close-cropped hair and an expression that was as stern as Pescoli’s, she stopped at the desk. “I’m Rinalda Dash.” With her height, she actually looked down at Pescoli. “What can I help you with?”

Again, Pescoli flashed her badge and introduced them both. “We’re here about Dan Grayson, who was your patient. We’d like to know what happened.”

“We all would,” Nurse Dash said solemnly. “And we’re looking into it as we do with all unexpected deaths. There’s a place where we can talk more privately,” she said, indicating a small niche near a bank of windows. Complete with a square of carpet, a coffee table, bench, fake ficus tree, and two side chairs, the spot offered little privacy, but it would have to do.

Tags: Lisa Jackson Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net