Rosemary shook her head. “Who?”
“We don’t know. Faye was at your house and said the bell rang. She opened the door, and someone attacked both of you.” Tears fell from Camille’s eyes. “I’ve been so scared.”
Rosemary couldn’t remember. She struggled to think. Something had been bothering her. But what?
“You should rest. Don’t tax yourself. I need to call the detectives and let them know you’re awake. They’ll want to talk to you. Do you remember anything?”
“No…something…” What had she been worried about? Mac. She’d called him. Whit. Something going on.
She pointed to the cup of water set on the hospital tray, and Camille brought the straw to her lips. She took a few sips, cleared her throat, and took a deep breath.
“Listen,” she commanded, shocked by how gravelly her voice sounded.
“What is it?”
“My friend…Mmmac Sllllade.” She stopped again to catch her breath.
“From Philly, that Mac?” Camille asked.
Camille had never met Mac, only heard stories about him.
Rosemary nodded. “Call Mac.” There was something she’d wanted to tell Sloane. Why couldn’t she remember? Everything was one big jumble. She sighed in frustration.
Camille’s eyes grew troubled. “I don’t understand. But I’ll call him. I don’t have his number.”
“Address book.”
“Okay, I’ll call Matilda and have her look for it.”
“Now. Worried…Sloane,” Rosemary insisted.
“What about Sloane?”
“Worried,” Rosemary repeated, out of breath.
Camille leaned over to kiss her cheek. “It will be fine, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll call her now.” She took out her phone. “I have no reception in here. I’ll run outside for a minute.”
After she’d gone, Rosemary closed her eyes and tried to summon any memories of the night of her fall. She slowed her breathing and used the techniques she’d learned in her yoga class. Deep breath in, cleansing breath out. The sequence of events was coming back to her now. She remembered letting Lawrence and Matilda off early and waiting for Faye. Mac’s report was in a folder in the living room. She was going to get coffee and then discuss the report with Faye. That was the last thing she remembered from that night. How did she fall? Suddenly, a flash of something came to her. Hands on her shoulders, pulling.
“Good evening, Mrs. Chase. I’m here to check your vitals.” A nurse walked in, breaking her concentration. She sighed in frustration.
“All good. Try and get some sleep now,” the nurse said as she switched off the light.
Rosemary’s mind was racing, nerves pulsing in fight mode. She couldn’t rest until she knew the truth. Even so, the pull of sleepbecame irresistible. She finally began to drift off when a noise from the doorway startled her. It was too dark to see anything except a large shadow.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice barely a whisper.
The figure crept toward her, silent, and stopped when it reached her bedside.
What are you doing?she tried to say, but no words would form.
She watched in terror as a syringe was pulled from the figure’s jacket and a hand moved toward her IV.
- 34 -
SLOANE
“Mrs. Montgomery! What are you doing?” a voice screamed.