Almost Dead (Lizzy Gardner #5)(35)

“I’m fine, thanks, but I’m going to need a few more minutes. Is everything OK out there?”

“We’re fine. Take your time.”

After she left, Christina returned to her seat. Another minute passed before she propped both elbows on her desk and let her head fall into her open palms. When she looked up again, she apologized and said, “I don’t know if I can do it.”

Hayley put a business card on Christina’s desk and slid it toward her. “Why don’t you take some time to think about it?”

“Is the girl in the hospital?”

“Yes. Sutter General Hospital, on the fourth floor. Your sister’s name is Kirsten Middleton.”

“I don’t have a sister.”

Hayley nodded.

“How much time does she have?”

“Not much.”

Christina stiffened. “I’m serious. I really don’t think I can help her.”

“I understand,” Hayley said again.

“Do you really?”

Hayley took a moment to think about that. “No, I guess you’re right. I don’t.”

“What would you do?”

Hayley hated these sorts of questions. Hypothetical bullshit, but she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. “Not everyone gets a chance to be a hero,” Hayley told her. “I’d like to think I would rise to the occasion and do whatever needed to be done, but who the hell knows? Maybe telling Pam Middleton to f*ck off would feel a lot better than saving someone you’ve never met.”

Silence.

“Ultimately,” Hayley added, “nobody can make this decision for you.”

“Is it dangerous . . . you know . . . donating bone marrow or whatever it is she would need?”

“From what I’ve read about bone marrow donation, it’s mostly a time commitment. Every surgical procedure has risks.”

“I’m getting married in four weeks.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Nobody is going to judge you if you don’t do this,” Hayley said.

“No? Cancel my wedding to save a life or let the girl die and find a way to think happy thoughts on my honeymoon?”

“You might not be a match,” Hayley told her, “and then you won’t have to make the decision at all.”

“But what if I am?”

Hayley said nothing, let a solid minute of silence settle between them before coming to her feet. “I think you should do what’s right for you and nobody else.” She gestured toward the card she’d left on the desk. “If you need to vent or you want someone to go to the hospital with you or to set up a meeting with Pam Middleton, call me anytime.”





CHAPTER 24

Lizzy walked to her car, frustrated and tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well. The notion that someone had taken Shelby was too much for her. And then there were the people on Melony’s list—targets, every one of them.

And the man who was watching her.

Fuck this life of hers.

Not a day went by that Lizzy didn’t feel his eyes on her, crawling over her skin like a tick looking for its host—sensing body heat and vibrations.

And yet the cameras Tommy had hooked up in the front yard and backyard had yet to show anything tangible: deer, raccoon, the usual culprits you would expect to see on any given night.

Once she was inside her car, she looked over the list of names Melony Reed had provided her. She stopped at Dean Newman. According to Melony’s scribbled notes, Dean had grown up in a wealthy family. His father owned Merrick’s Lumber and Hardware. The way Melony told it, the things Dean had done in high school ended up being too much for him and drove him to drink. Sounded to Lizzy like this could just as easily be Melony’s own guilt talking, but who knew? Whatever the reason, Dean was definitely a drunk. Kicked out of college in his junior year, he’d moved back home and even ended up on the street for a short time until he’d joined Alcoholics Anonymous. As far as Melony knew, he’d stayed sober since then.

A quick check with DMV records provided her with an address in Roseville. It was a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac off East Roseville Parkway near the Galleria mall. It was past ten in the morning when she knocked on the front door.

A woman answered with a burp rag thrown over her shoulder and a baby in her arms. Judging by the dark shadows under her eyes, she hadn’t slept any better than Lizzy had.

“I don’t want any,” she said.

“I’m not selling anything. I need to talk to Dean Newman. Does he live here?”

“You tell me,” the woman said. The baby began to cry, and she moved the infant from one arm to the other. She started to walk away and said over her shoulder, “Come on in and shut the door behind you.”

Lizzy stepped inside.

Big mistake. Had she known the woman was going to wheel around and plop the baby in her arms, she never would have followed her. “I’m not good with babies,” Lizzy warned her. “I haven’t held a baby in years. I might drop her.”

“It’s a boy,” the woman said from the kitchen. She held a bottle beneath the water, waiting for it to heat up. “You’re doing just fine.”

Lizzy had to agree. The tiny human in her arms had stopped crying, and he was looking up at her with bright-blue watery eyes.