Critical Impact. Linda Hall

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      “Oh, can you pray right now?”

      Anna did.

      When he left, Nurse Daphne came in with another pill for her to take, one eyebrow raised at the departing Rodney. “Who was that?” she asked.

      “A good friend of mine.”

      When Deputy McCabe came in a few minutes later he presented her with a bouquet of bright, saucer-size mums.

      “Thank you,” she said. “They’re beautiful.”

      He studied them. “They are kind of nice. They’re from Bette. She heard what happened and wanted you to have a couple of her prize mums.”

      So they were from Bette and not from him. She didn’t know why she felt such a sudden disappointment. After all, why should she expect flowers from the police officer who was questioning her?

      “I’m living at Bette’s resort now,” she said. “For the time being, until I find a place of my own. It’s beautiful there. Bette is such a fine gardener. I’ve been savoring the fall colors in her many gardens.”

      “Actually, I think it’s her son, Ralph, who does most of the gardening.”

      She nodded. “I’ve seen him out there. It’s been such a peaceful place for me to live. It’s been a good place for me to get some rest and get my act together.” Yesterday, during the questioning, she had told them so much about Peter. Her life was an open book as far as the police were concerned. It made her feel vulnerable in front of this man about whom she knew nothing. He could be engaged for all she knew. And why should she be thinking about him in this way?

      Deputy McCabe sat in the chair recently vacated by Rodney. “How are you, Anna? How do you feel this morning?” It really seemed like he was concerned for her, the way he was looking at her. She felt herself blushing under his intense gaze. She looked over at her right arm in its awkward and heavy cast. “I’m going to run a marathon this afternoon, Deputy McCabe. You want to come?”

      He grinned. “Why don’t you call me Stu.”

      “Okay, Stu.”

      “I also brought some of your things from the bomb site.”

      Her eyes watered when she looked at the ash-covered handbag filled with stage makeup. The photograph book was charred and the cover was bent. She looked through the bag. “My wallet’s not here,” she said.

      “That’s all we found at the site,” said Stu. “Are you up for any more questions?”

      “Okay. But where’s my wallet?”

      “I’m not sure,” he said. “If they find it, I’ll let you know. They’re still working out there in the site. They haven’t recovered there yet. I’ll bring it to you when they find it.”

      “Thank you. They just gave me another pain pill. So I may fall asleep at any moment, or say weird things. I’m just warning you.”

      “Duly noted,” he said with a smile. “I would like you to go over again everything you saw.”

      “Again?”

      “Can you remember anything else? Any more details? Anything you saw or heard?”

      She shook her head. “Since the blast momentarily muffled my hearing, no, I didn’t hear anything.”

      He took out some sheets of paper from a folder. “One of your students, a young man named Rodney Malini, came to see me this morning.”

      Anna nodded. “He was just in here. He told me about Hilary’s online blog.”

      Stu laid the printouts from the blog on the tray table beside her and pushed it toward her. She picked the top one up with her left hand. Fortunately, she only needed her glasses for distance vision. She could read okay without them. And what she read disturbed her.

      Stu asked, “Do you have any idea who she was writing about?”

      Anna said she didn’t. She picked up another page and read. And then another and another. Finally, she looked up at Stu. “So you think the bombing was aimed at Hilary? That someone wanted to kill her?” She knew Hilary had seemed unhappy, but was it this serious?

      “Did all of your students get along?” Stu asked.

      “They seemed to. I’m not a part of their private lives, but I didn’t seem to notice any jealousy or any rivalries, other than the fact that Hilary seemed quieter than the rest, more moody somehow.”

      “When did you first notice this?”

      Anna thought about that. “Right from the beginning, I think. But I’ve only been with this group since I came home from California. Have you spoken to her family?”

      “Not yet. Deputy Liz will be going there today.” He paused. “I’d like to talk to you about something else, too. About Peter.”

      Hearing Peter’s name caused her to swallow and blink rapidly.

      He pulled his chair even closer to her. “I’ve been trying to reach him and I can’t. He’s not answering any of his phones.”

      “He never does. He monitors all his calls, and only calls back people he wants to talk to.”

      “He hasn’t gone to work. I called the studio.”

      The mention of the studio caused Anna to swallow. That’s the place where she had worked, too.

      Stu said, “He seems to be gone and no one knows where he is. I was just wondering if you knew where he might be. He’s supposed to be working on a movie and he’s not there.”

      She said, “It’s not unusual for him to take off and fly under the radar for a while. He was always pulling stunts like this….” Anna’s voice trailed off and she looked down at her left hand. It was pale, the same color as the sheet.

      Stu said, “I’m sorry he hurt you so much.”

      Anna nodded.

      “We were only together for a couple of months. I met him at a party. When I told him I wanted to do movie makeup, he recommended me for a job and the next day I got a call. It went from there.” She shook her head, all these thoughts tumbling together in her memory. “I enjoyed what I did, but the life there…” She paused. “I never felt like I fit in.”

      “What about his bomb-making?”

      “Peter did special effects. In movies. Not for real.”

      “He never made real bombs?”

      “He worked with explosives, but it’s mostly smoke and mirrors in movies, Stu.”

      Stu nodded and wrote something down. She closed her eyes and drifted off for a mere second. The pain medication and the antibiotic were beginning to take effect. She blinked, her eyes open. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I seem to be fading.”

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