Viola’s husband stopped by, wedging his shoulder against the doorjamb. “You doing okay, Elise?”
“I’m fine. Just wrapping up.”
“I heard about the two murders. The boys down in homicide getting any closer to nailing this guy?”
“I hope so.” She turned off her classroom light and joined him at the door. “Are you looking forward to going to Alabama?”
He rolled his eyes. “Not at all. I’ll walk you to your car since Vi’s talking with a parent right now.”
She tossed her bag in the backseat and hung on the door of her car. “Thanks for the escort.”
“You bet. Take care and tell those boys in SFPD to call us in if they need any help.”
“I’m sure they’d take that in the spirit it was meant.”
He grinned as she slipped onto the driver’s seat and shut the door.
She raced back across the bridge into the city. She’d see Ty alone, but Sean had promised to meet her at the hospital. He hadn’t been in on the questioning of Ty, but he’d heard through certain channels that Ty had retracted his accusation against him.
At least his department didn’t believe Sean was capable of that.
She pulled into the parking structure of the hospital—the same one where she’d met Sean less than a week ago, although it seemed like an eternity. How had they gotten so close so fast?
For some reason, the killer had targeted them both and that had given them some sort of shared purpose. Would that connection end when the killings did? She didn’t want to be bound to Sean through some sick individual’s obsession.
She joined a group in the elevator and rode up to the lobby of the hospital. From there she took another elevator to the fourth floor and checked in with the nurses’ station.
“I’m here to see Ty Russell. Elise Duran.”
The nurse at the desk tapped a few keys on the keyboard and nodded. “Four fifteen, down the hall to your right.”
Elise thanked her and made her way down the antiseptic-smelling corridor, her running shoes squeaking on the shiny floor. When she reached Ty’s room, she peered through the glass at him reclining on the hospital bed, watching TV.
She rapped one knuckle against the window, and his head jerked up. He beckoned to her with his right hand—the unbandaged one.
Lifting the door handle, she pushed through with her hip. “How are you, Ty? You look a lot better. Got your color back.”
“I’m just great.” He lifted his heavily bandaged left hand. “Except I’m missing my finger.”
“I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horribly painful, but why in the world did you head to Sean—Detective Brody’s house instead of the emergency room?”
“I don’t know.” He muted the TV. “I was in shock. I was in a rage.”
“You couldn’t possibly have believed that Detective Brody would send someone after you and that person would then reveal who hired him.”
“I guess it’s pretty stupid now that I think about it.”
“Were you able to give the police a description?”
“Didn’t the detective tell you? The man that attacked me was wearing a black ski mask over his face, and a bulky jacket. He was shorter than me and a lot heavier. If he hadn’t ambushed me, I could’ve taken him.”
“I feel terrible that you got all mixed up in this. You should’ve never come out here.”
“Really, Elise? When your landlord, Oscar, called me and told me what had happened, how could I not come out?”
She sighed and wound a strand of hair around her finger. “Ty, I’m not your concern anymore.”
“Are you worried about the finger? It’s just my ring finger. I can’t wear a wedding ring on the hand, but at least it’s not my index finger or thumb.”
“The finger—that means nothing, but I can’t believe you’re talking to me about wedding rings. If we were so great together, you never would’ve cheated. It’s over between us, Ty.”
“It’s that cop.”
“It is not that cop. How many times have I told you this past year that I had moved on?” She patted his knee beneath the sheet. “You should, too. Give it a try with Gina. You must’ve seen something in her to risk our engagement.”
His mouth dropped open. “Gina? She’s a waitress at the Cozy Café.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, remembering all over again why she’d had her doubts about him. “I can’t help you there, Ty.”
She snatched her hand back and rubbed it against her jeans. “I’m curious and you’ve probably already told the police, but how did you get Sean’s address?”
“He gave it to me.” Ty studied his bandaged hand. “The Alphabet Killer gave it to me.”
A chill zigzagged down her spine. “Go home, Ty. Go back to Montana.”
They chatted a bit more about home until Ty’s pain meds kicked in and his eyelids began to droop and his words began to slur.
Elise tiptoed out of the room and practically ran into Sean coming around the corner at the nurses’ station.
Grabbing her shoulders to steady her, he said, “I was hoping to run into you.”
“And you did—literally.”
“You look washed out, although it could just be the lighting. Are you okay? Did Ty give you a hard time?”
“Not really. He started the conversation still believing there was a chance that I’d go back to Montana with him, but I think he’s getting the picture now.”
“He’s probably halfway in shock. That was a nasty business, and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You know the killer gave him your address?”
“The detective questioning him told me.”
“Do you think he knew your address before he tracked my car there?”
“Probably.” He tapped her head. “Don’t get it into this thick skull of yours that you led him to my place.”
“Was there any evidence with the bodies?”
He cupped her elbow. “Let’s get something to drink in the cafeteria. We can’t talk here, and I’m not even supposed to be hanging around Ty’s room. I’m off the case, remember?”
They took the elevator down to the lobby and crossed to the other side of the building to the hospital cafeteria. They both filled up sodas from a self-serve machine and snagged a table in the back of the noisy room filled with clattering plastic trays and hushed conversations.
“So, what do you know?”
Sean took a long sip from his straw. “Only what I got from Curtis. It’s a lot different when you’re not on the scene.”
“I can’t believe they’re keeping you away. You know more about this case than anyone.”
“If anything, they were justified in their actions today when Ray Lopez showed up and started wondering aloud why the lead detective wasn’t at the crime scene.”
“How did Lopez even know it was the work of the Alphabet Killer?”
“He didn’t. Just fishing.” He jiggled the ice in his cup and tilted it toward the soda machines.