Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(77)

Her mom withdrew her arm. “You’re too independent and self-sufficient, honey. Always have been, even as a baby.”

Andi dug at the crack in the hard plastic, breaking her nail. She couldn’t help it that she didn’t need anyone.

A chuckle came from her mother. “Stephanie loved to be cuddled, but there was no cuddling you. No, I’d pick you up, and you’d get stiff, like just now. Then off you’d go, out of my lap, running to do something. It only got worse after Stephanie’s death.”

“I’m sorry the wrong daughter died.” Andi clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to grab the words that had been trying to escape for years.

“Oh, Andi.” Her mom’s voice broke. “No . . . I—”

The shrill ring from the telephone grabbed everyone’s attention. Andi jumped up, but once again, Brad snatched the receiver and then listened, nodding his head. “Thank you!”

He turned to them. “They were able to take him on to surgery and everything went great! They said we could see him now.”

“Yes!” Andi turned and grabbed her mom, who’d also stood. “He’s going to be okay!”

“I told you so. But honey, we need to talk—”

“Forget I said that, Mom. I was just stressed. I didn’t mean it. Come on, let’s go see Dad.” Ignoring her protest, Andi tugged her mom toward the door to the recovery room. She glanced over her shoulder. Will wasn’t coming.

“Go on,” he said. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Her dad had always spent a lot of time with Will. What happened tonight had to be killing him.

“Go,” he said, motioning with his hands.

With one last look, she followed her family through the doors. Dread filled her stomach the closer she came to her dad’s room. He’d been so gray . . . and lifeless. What if there’d been damage and he couldn’t do what he wanted to in his retirement? That’d be a slow death for him.

“Hurry,” Brad said from the room.

Pressing her lips together, she rounded the doorway as her mom kissed her dad on the forehead. He turned and saw her.

“Hey, pumpkin. Sorry I scared you.”

Her dad lay flat, but his color was awesome. Pink cheeks and his eyes sparkled. Tears sprang to her eyes, and grinning, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Wires were hooked everywhere, and a monitor beeped a steady rhythm.

“Give me a hug,” he said, holding out his arms.

She bent over, careful of the wires and sandbag on his upper leg, and hugged him. “You look great.”

“Doc says I’m lucky. Personally, I think it was God looking out for me.” He looked past her, and a frown crossed his face. “Where’s Will? I owe that young man an apology.”

“He’s in the waiting room,” Brad said.

“Well, get him in here.”

“I will.” Andi hurried back to the waiting room, but Will was gone.



Will exited the hospital and jogged to his car. What a day. First, he’d learned he was losing a mother he’d never actually had, and now the only man who’d ever treated Will like a son hated him. Mr. Hollister had taught him how to throw a curveball . . . taken him fishing . . . most of all, he’d talked to him like he was worth something.

That was important to a kid who didn’t have a father. Not that he’d ever been mistreated by his uncle. But the man had been too busy to notice Will. He didn’t know his dad, and the only story he’d ever heard about him was that his mom had called him from the hospital to pick them up after Will was born. She’d waited outside in the cold until darkness convinced her that he wasn’t coming. And so they went to live with his Aunt Mae and Uncle James, who lived next door to the Hollisters. Or, at least he went to live with them. He was four when he realized his mom wasn’t ever around.

He slid behind the steering wheel and slammed the door just as his phone rang. Andi. He didn’t want to talk to her right now and let it ring as he drove to his apartment. He’d brought a copy of Stephanie’s case home, and this would be a good time to go through it again, piece by piece.

Once he was home, he picked up this morning’s newspaper he hadn’t opened and carried it to his desk, where he checked his email. The state trooper had emailed that a TBI agent would be at the body shop tomorrow. Will shot him an email, saying he’d be there. Then he moved to his sofa and opened Stephanie’s files.

He separated Barnes’s reports from the others, laying them on his coffee table. Will had gone over everything twice already, and he picked up the toxicology report. He scanned it, stopping halfway down the sheet.

How had he overlooked this? Amitriptyline and more than a trace in Jimmy’s blood. It was no wonder that he didn’t remember what happened or that it didn’t kill him, like Lacey. Amitriptyline combined with alcohol was lethal most of the time. But what was amitriptyline doing in his system in the first place? The way Jimmy drank, no doctor would prescribe the antidepressant for him.

Suddenly it hit him. Both Lacey and Jimmy had the antidepressant in their system. The same MO.

But first he had to make sure Jimmy didn’t routinely use the drug. He took out his notepad and wrote a memo to ask Jimmy about it tomorrow. Then he took a picture of the tox report and sent it to Maggie with a request to see if it was in Jimmy’s court records.