Part 14 (2/2)

She sounded so forlorn and desperate. ”As soon as I can,” I promised as we pulled into the beautiful oak-canopied lane that led to the B&B. ”I'll be there, Tink.”

Gertrude, with her copper-wire hair sculpted into perfect obedience, stood behind the registration desk. Her smile was wide and welcoming. ”Sheriff Peters,” she said, ”what can I do for you?” When she caught sight of me, the smile faded.

”I need to speak with Jimmy Janks.”

She pinned me with her gaze. ”Mr. Janks is a guest here. I'm not in the habit of letting anyone disturb my guests. Now if you get rid of the riffraff at your side, I might be amenable to helping you.”

Coleman's temper was shorter than I thought. ”Gertrude, I'll put you in jail for obstruction of justice if that's the way you want to play it.”

Normally, he wouldn't stoop to a bluff, and I could have told him that Gertrude was smarter than the average bear. Too late.

”Do you have a warrant?” Gertrude pushed her gla.s.ses up her nose.

Coleman's sigh was an admission of defeat. ”Gertrude, I can get a warrant, but time is critical. I need to check a room. It's a serious matter. You could play a big role in saving an innocent person's life. Will you help me?” He could turn on the charm when he wished.

”Sounds like a pile of rubbish, like what Adam Chandler would say when he's cooking up a plot on that soap opera.” She sniffed and pointed out me. ”Sheriff, I'm disappointed that you'd be swayed by Hollywood celebrity.” She leaned on the counter, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s covering the blotter where guests still registered with an ink pen. ”Why are you keeping company with Sarah Booth Delaney?”

”I'm under arrest,” I told Gertrude.

”Grow up, Sarah Booth. You aren't even wearing handcuffs.”

”Gertrude, please.” Coleman struggled for patience. ”Is Janks in his room?”

”Possibly.”

”May I check his room to see if he's injured?”

”Okay, but only because you asked nicely.” She pushed the register toward him.

Coleman scanned the open page. ”Room two.”

She checked the pigeonholes where she kept the room keys and produced one. ”The rooms, as you know, open on the hallway and the back gallery. I don't keep up with the comings-and-goings of my guests. I'm not nosey.”

Right, I thought, like Norman Bates wasn't crazy.

Coleman took the key to Room two. ”Thank you, Gertrude.”

His boots rang on the tongue-and-groove oak floor as he walked. I hurried after him, afraid Gertrude would try to stab me with her registration pen.

”Sorry,” I whispered. ”She hates me. I told you she did.”

The hallway was illuminated with dim lights that emulated gas lamps. It was a nice touch, but not practical for good visibility.

When we got to Room two, Coleman inserted the key and pushed the door open. The room was a mess, complete with what looked like a bloodstain spattered across a beautiful hand-loomed carpet.

”Cece.” I started toward the stain and stopped myself. The worst thing I could do would be to tromp in and destroy evidence. Taking in the disarray of the room, I thought Janks had left under duress--and while a few articles of clothing were scattered about, I didn't see a suitcase.

Janks had left in a hurry. Whether on his own or at the hands of someone else, I couldn't begin to guess.

”My carpet!” Gertrude had followed us and was about to charge into the room, but Coleman stopped her.

”You didn't hear anything?” he asked.

She glared at me as if this were all my fault. ”I went to play bridge for a few hours. It could have happened then. There's no one in the rooms on either side. Mr. Janks asked for as much privacy as possible.”

Coleman herded Gertrude into the hall and I followed. He called Dewayne to come and collect evidence. I was trying hard not to jump to conclusions.

”We aren't sure Cece was even in this room.” Coleman tried to comfort me. ”While the stain, if it is blood, indicates an injury, we can't judge the severity.”

”But someone was hurt here,” I pointed out.

”Don't jump the gun. It could've been an accident.”

He didn't believe that. He wouldn't call Dewayne to process an accident scene. Coleman knelt beside the stain and surveyed the disarray of the room. ”We'll have more information once we process the scene.”

There was nothing else I could accomplish here. If there was a lead to Cece's whereabouts, Coleman would find it. I could perhaps accomplish something at the hospital. But how in the h.e.l.l could I conceal this from Tinkie? She could read me like a book.

Coleman stood up. ”Dewayne will be here in less than five minutes. We'll get you to the hospital then. When I know something conclusive, I'll call you.”

I ran down the freshly mopped hallway, the scent of pine forever reminding me of the long, heartbreaking days of Aunt Loulane's decline.

My world was under attack. Oscar, Cece, Gordon, the population of my homeland. And my own body was in revolt. Another wave of nausea swept over me, causing me to lean against the wall. The sickness pa.s.sed, and I rushed on until I rounded the corner and saw Tinkie.

”Sarah Booth!” She rose to meet me, hope so evident that I slowed to a near standstill. ”Oscar said your name.” She grasped my arm, and I was shocked at how thin and cold her fingers were.

I covered her hand with mine, rubbing and squeezing as if I could press warmth into it. ”What can I do?”

”I'll get Doc. Keep an eye on Oscar.”

Oscar remained, almost unchanged, except the ventilator was gone. His color was still gray, his face and arms covered in sores. Tinkie said he'd had a seizure. Not even the kindest interpretation could paint that as a good thing.

Footsteps rushed toward me, and Tinkie returned with Doc. ”Can he see me from here?” I asked Doc.

”He can see you, but he can't talk to you. You'll have to go in the room.”

I was allowed what Tinkie was not. And I was scared. I didn't want to contract this sickness. No one thought it was contagious, at least not from person to person, but what if it was? I closed my eyes and prayed for courage.

In many instances of grave danger, Tinkie had come to my rescue without thought or regard for her own safety. She had rushed into ambushes and attacked men and women with guns. She was fearless. I could be no less for her.

”Come with me. We'll get you suited up,” Doc said. He led the way. ”We don't believe this is contagious, Sarah Booth, but we aren't taking any risks. Until we figure out what this is and how to treat it, we're insisting on full isolation.”

I had no problem with that. As Aunt Loulane would say, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

”Tell him I love him,” Tinkie said. She clung to my elbow. ”Tell him he has to get well.” Her voice broke. ”Tell him that he's the most important thing in the world to me and Chablis. Tell him I can't live without him.”

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as she sobbed in deep gasps. Doc turned away, hiding the tears that brightened his own eyes. Doc had ministered to both me and Tinkie since we were born. Probably Oscar, too. He wasn't just a medical man, he was a friend, and it hurt him to see us suffer.

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