While Others Sleep. Helen R. Myers

similar news to his. He shut his mind to the sobs, his eyes to the anguish, and stepped around them. Directly ahead was Ms. Cody Security in intense dialogue with a nurse.

      “Sorry, ma’am,” the harried nurse said. “Maybe they did just bring her in, but I don’t have paperwork on any shooting victim.”

      The EMT who’d spoken to Blade paused on his way out and backtracked. “You know the kid who was shot?” he asked the security guard.

      Bewilderment had her smoke-gray eyes appearing all the larger. Under different circumstances Blade would have been tempted, wanting to linger and find out her name. It was her fierce grip on her upper left arm that snapped him back to attention. Could he be responsible for that? Her jacket was flight-style like his, only canvas. It would have offered no protection whatsoever when she fell down.

      “Kid…?” She shook her head in slow motion as though caught up in some dream. “No. The woman in the white Pontiac. A Grand Am. She’s seventy-nine. Five-two…though she insists it’s still five-three. She wears a platinum blond wig.”

      “Right car, close hair, wrong driver,” the EMT said. “Our passenger was an eighteen-year-old girl.” He glanced at his partner. “What was the name Phil gave us?”

      “Holms. Well…maybe.”

      Blade watched the woman frown in confusion and barely heard her murmur, “I guess I made a mistake.”

      The EMT shrugged. “Good luck.” He and his partner moved on.

      The nurse looked ready to escape, too. Blade stepped closer and said to her, “Maybe you’d better get the lady some help. I think her arm—”

      “It’s nothing,” the guard interjected, staring at something light years beyond his left shoulder. But when she did focus on him she physically recoiled, as though backing from the deepest of black holes, bringing her up hard against the admittance desk. “Son of a—” While she checked the curse in time, she directed all of her pain at Blade. “Will you please get lost? It was just a little lightning, okay?”

      3

      Maple Trails

      5:45 a.m.

      But nothing was okay, and as dawn approached, Campbell had new symptoms to apply to her definition of sick-of-mind and sick-at-heart. Being on the phone again with her father wasn’t doing much to help that.

      “No, there’s still no word on Maida,” she told Yancy. “I’m ready to notify the sheriff.” Since they were located just beyond the city limits, the property fell under the jurisdiction of the Gregg County Sheriff’s Department rather than the Longview Police.

      “Give her another hour,” Yancy replied. “I know you two have grown particularly close in the last year, but she still has a right to her privacy.”

      Campbell switched from rubbing her arm to massaging the intensified throbbing building in the middle of her forehead. “I know, I know. You warned me of this very possibility, of not keeping some professional distance, and whether you believe it or not, I have. But you weren’t the one to witness what happened.”

      “I wish it had been me there last night. Then you wouldn’t be hurting now.” Yancy sighed. “Look, you’ve been to the hospital and we’ve both listened to the police scanner throughout the night. There’s been nothing to indicate she’s had an accident, so why not give her family time to wake calmly. I’m still betting she’s over at their place, but even if she’s not, it’s not fair to upset them before we can say with certainty there’s a legitimate problem.”

      He was as resistant to what she’d told him about Maida’s deteriorating relationship with her only son and his family as he was to the reason for the woman’s strange departure. Earlier, he’d suggested the sirens going off around town warning of a tornado in the area was what had scared Maida out of her home. That could be, but Campbell wasn’t convinced—and he’d pushed her close to the end of her patience. She wanted answers.

      “If you knew a twister was headed here, wouldn’t you call me to make sure I was secure?” Yancy asked. “And wouldn’t you check with me directly afterward to see if I needed anything?”

      “Stop with the fairy tales—we aren’t a good example for any of this. What’s more, Maida thinks her daughter-in-law Patsy is more attracted to Dwayne’s pension fund than she is to Dwayne and she’s disgusted that he can’t see that. This is a dysfunctional iceberg, Dad.” Campbell paused as she saw a familiar bronze compact pull in. “Kelsey is here. Have you updated her about this?”

      “No. I thought you’d prefer to do that. I didn’t want to risk getting any facts wrong or anything.”

      Campbell couldn’t completely repress her annoyance. It wasn’t facts he was concerned about. After all, she’d been careful to be explicit as she detailed information to him. He was, she suspected, continuing to believe she was overreacting. Now she had to update Kels without putting Yancy in a bad light, because a junior partner didn’t challenge the senior one in front of staff, no matter how badly he had stumbled.

      “Fine,” she replied. “Just FYI…I’m leaving a set of the notes I made, so all staff will have firsthand data to work from.”

      “I’d like to see them first.”

      “You’ve heard me over the phone. There are no surprises. Everyone needs to be on the same page—and fast,” she added.

      “You’ll bring the original for me to review?” he asked, the command clear.

      “After I go over and recheck Dogwood Lane.”

      “You said Ike’s been there twice since the storm. Both times he’s reported the same thing—the garage is empty. Besides, you’d have been the first person to see her if she came back,” Yancy said.

      “That doesn’t mean there isn’t something of value to note, something that might give us a clue as to what sent her charging out of here. It was dark the last time he checked around the house.”

      “It still will be for a while yet. Dyle or Travis should be driving up at any second. Have one of them inspect the house as soon as they check in.”

      “They’ll have plenty to do closing off areas around the marina that suffered wind damage, and then checking the vacant homes on the east rim of the lake, which Ike says appears to have taken the brunt of the storm. Besides, one of Maida’s neighbors might be outside inspecting their property. You know they’re more likely to talk to me about her than anyone else.”

      “Yeah, but you’re hurting,” her father said again. “Kelsey may not hear it in your voice, but I do. Let Ike go as soon as the others relieve him. You can tell him particular places to check.”

      What was draining her faster was convincing her father that she knew how to do her job. “The guys are already on the clock and Ike left the premises five minutes ago. He’s beat, too, Yancy. In any case, I have to stick around. No one has arrived at the administration office yet, and you know they aren’t likely to before 7:30.”

      “You can’t sit there half the morning waiting on them. Besides, you and I need to talk first.”

      “Administration deserves to know something could be wrong.”

      “Damn, Belle, what are you trying to do, send me back to the hospital? Slow down. Maida Livingstone is downright obdurate about people invading her privacy.”

      “I’ve had nothing but time to sit here contemplating worse-case scenarios. We don’t want Bryce Tyndell undermining us with the Residents’ Committee and suggesting that we kept things secret due to misconduct or neglect.”

      “That tight-collared prick would do it, too,” Yancy muttered. “How he’s managed to keep his job as operations manager for this long, I don’t know.”

      Campbell