Page 115 of The Sister's Curse

“Sounds like jail. Not going.”

“That’s not what we mean,” I said. “I want to take you into protective custody until we get those guys arrested.”

Viv smiled at me. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, bringing these guys to justice. Believe me, I’m glad to have someone finally on their asses. But I’m not interested in being babysat by the cops.”

Owen reached out and touched her arm. “Viv, this isn’t good for you. I mean…your sleeping bag’s wet. There’s no clean water. At least go someplace where you can rest comfortably. The curse will work better if you have more energy.”

Viv stared at him, hard. “Are you kicking me off your land?”

Owen shook his head. “I don’t want to have to do that, Viv. I don’t want to see you deteriorate and die here. I also hate the idea of having to dig a big hole for you, because we’ve had three weeks of drought before tonight. That rain was over quick, and that clay is still hard as rock.”

Viv sighed and stubbed out her cigarette. “I guess I’m coming with you.”

—

Viv was in worse shape than she let on. She walked slowly, refusing to take Owen’s arm. She was unsteady. I would’ve thought she’d been drinking or doing drugs in the shack, but I’d seen no empty bottles or drug paraphernalia.

“She needs medical attention,” I told Owen when we got to my rental car. I bundled Viv into the passenger seat and closed the door. “I’ll take her to the hospital to get checked out.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll see that she gets to a safe house, someplace where the Kings of Warsaw Creek can’t find her.”

“You promise?” Owen said.

“I swear.” I meant it. Even if I had to take her home.

But the hospital was first. The ER took her right away.

I sat with Viv behind a curtain in the ER. She was hooked up to an IV and seemed to be dozing. Tonight was probably her first night in a bed in a while.

I flipped through the TV channels as she slept. I clicked off advertisements for the sheriff’s reelection campaign, and ultimately wound up on the local news. The newscast showed an aerial view of a retaining pond outside of an apartment complex. The parking lot surrounding it was swarmed with sheriff’s vehicles and the coroner’s van.

“…Local police aren’t sharing the identity of the elderly man, but witnesses say he was found floating in the pond.”

Viv awoke and chortled, her fingers knit together over her sternum.

“He was reportedly walking his dog and vanished. His wife called the police, who found him in the retention pond off Meadoway Boulevard…”

I gripped the arm of my chair. I wanted nothing more than to jump into the car and drive to the scene. I looked to Viv in her hospital bed, a brilliant, crazy smile covering her face.

“What are you grinning about?” I grumbled.

“You. You’re my alibi for that death.”

I peeled my lips back over my teeth, not sure if I was snarling or smiling.

I retreated to the hallway to get some coffee from the nurses’ station and to text Monica to run down the girls’ whereabouts.

The nurses surrounding me knew Nick, and they knew me. They gave me sympathetic smiles, but they didn’t speak to me. They probably couldn’t. Not with Nick being under investigation for passing info to me. I didn’t push.

But Viv’s ER doctor came to the station and spoke with me. I noticed that he was speaking in view of a camera, and with witnesses.

“Viv’s dehydrated and has a fever, and her white cell count is up—really up. Her red cell count is abysmally low,” the doctor said. “I told her this, and she gave me permission to speak with you.” He was covering his HIPAA ass, clearly.

“So…she’s got a bad infection? Like mono or something?”

“The numbers are higher than that. I’m thinking lymphoma or leukemia, but that’s outside of my bailiwick.”