Nadine instantly picks up on the tension. She steps forward and extends her hand to Jet with an odd formality. Jet squeezes it lightly, a tight smile on her face.
“Anybody hungry?” Nadine asks, offering Kevin a raspberry muffin.
“Thanks,” the boy says in a restrained voice, and takes the fist-sized treat. “I always get these at the bookstore.”
“How’s your season going?” I ask, trying not to look for Max’s features in his young face.
“We’re doing pretty good. Nineteen and one, so far.”
“Wow. You play, what, second base?”
“Pitcher now.”
“On a Bienville traveling team?”
“Nah. The local teams are too diluted now. Too many dads with money. I play on a major league team out of Baton Rouge. That’s one level above triple-A.”
I glance at Jet, who’s clearly waiting for her son to finish so that she can talk to me. “Major league, huh? At twelve? You must be pretty good.”
He blushes a little. “I do a’ight.”
Having paid sufficient court to Kevin, I ask him to excuse his mother and me for a couple of minutes. Kevin doesn’t look too put out at being left with Nadine.
I lead Jet to the automatic doors and wait for them to slide open. I can almost sense her heart pounding. Beyond the doors, the sidewalk recedes into a circle of black asphalt designed for easy entry and egress by wheelchairs. A few shrubs line the circle, apparently to give visitors and employees a place to throw their cigarette butts. We walk out into the industrial glow of sodium-vapor streetlamps, moving far enough from the building for privacy, but remaining within sight of Kevin and Nadine, who are visible through a large picture window with its blinds turned open.
“Where’s Paul?” I ask in a low voice. “What’s happened?”
“Paul’s in the ER.”
This can only be bad news. “Is he hurt?”
“No. Don’t react when I say this, okay? Be stone cold. Max is in the ER. He’s the patient. Paul’s here for Max. And he could be watching us right now.”
Chapter 41
Jet might as well have sucker-punched me in the throat. “Dr. Lacey must have figured he’d die without emergency care,” I reason, glancing back at the hospital entrance. “Turn your back to the doors, so I can watch for Paul over your shoulder without being obvious.”
Jet turns until I have a clear line of sight to the main doors without moving my head.
“Has Max said anything about the attack?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know if he can even talk. Two doctors are working on him now, and they’ve called the helicopter to take him to Jackson.”
“Oh, man. Have you been alone with Paul?”
Jet looks like she’s gritting her teeth hard enough to crush a stone. “Not since we got here. He was drunk when I got home, and he drank some more after. We only got the call a half hour ago. I was going to leave Kevin with Tallulah, but she wasn’t in her house or Max’s. She didn’t answer her phone, either. Marshall, I have no idea what to do. What if Max accuses me of trying to kill him?”
“He won’t. He’d have to explain too much.”
“What if he doesn’t care anymore? What if he’s ready to blow everything up? The whole family?”
“Jet, he can’t. It just hit me: Max can’t implicate you in this assault—he can’t even use the video he shot of us. It’s all a bluff.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got the nuclear option in this war, not him. If he comes at you with anything, you can charge him with rape. Kevin is living proof of his guilt.”
Jet opens her mouth, but no sound emerges. Her eyes seem to dilate, as though the prospect of escape from Max’s power has intoxicated her. But then she shakes her head. “That’s a weapon I can never use. It would destroy Kevin. And Paul.”
“I’m not saying you use it first. Or ever. I’m saying it’s a deterrent. A neutron bomb. If Max believes you’ll use it, then he can’t hurt you. Not without hurting himself worse.”
She’s breathing harder. “I’ll lose that game, Marshall. Max can stand more pain than I can. Not me, but . . . you know. I can’t watch Kevin suffer through that.”
I want to hold her close and comfort her, but I can’t do it out here. Looking over her shoulder at the brightly lit hospital entrance, I see Nadine and Kevin sitting on a couch just inside the big glass doors.
“Max isn’t going to say anything. It’ll be just like when you stabbed him with the steak knife. But if he does, you only have one play. And you can’t hesitate. Max tried to rape you tonight—you defended yourself. You fought for your life, and not for the first time. Tell Paul about the stab wound. Max will still have a scar from that. Tell Paul you kept all this from him because you didn’t want to destroy the family. But now Max has lost his mind. He killed Sally, and now he’s obsessed with you.”
“I think I’m going to puke,” Jet says, looking back at the lighted doors. “Seriously, I can’t get my breath.”
“You’re having a panic attack. Try to breathe slowly. You’ve been under massive pressure for a decade. You kept an explosive secret all that time. Now you feel it’s on the verge of coming out. That kind of stress kills people. It can also make them do self-destructive things. Stay in control, Jet. Stay ahead of Max. Know what you’re going to do, whatever move he makes. You’re twice as smart as he is.”
She’s nodding, trying to get her composure back. “As soon as I got home tonight, I showered and changed clothes. I thought about destroying the ones I was wearing on the hill, but in the end I just washed them.”
“That might not get the blood off, if you had any splatter on you.”
“Okay. I’ll burn them. I also destroyed Max’s cell phone. I couldn’t hack his password, and I didn’t want to risk being caught with it.”
“Good. I still have some hope the video was on that phone.”
“Me, too. Oh, when I was in the ER, I looked through his personal effects for his second phone and didn’t find it. Turns out a nurse had already given it to Paul.”
“Was it a Samsung, too?”
“I haven’t seen it yet. I’m afraid to ask. But if I can somehow get hold of it tonight, I will.” She reaches up to her neck, takes hold of a slim chain, and lifts Sally’s sapphire pendant from beneath her top.
“You’re wearing a fifty-thousand-dollar necklace around town?”
“This is our good-luck charm. Sally left these passwords for me. When I find whatever they open, we’ll be able to save ourselves. I’m betting it’s Max’s other phone.”
“Two passwords for a phone?”
“The second could be for a program on the phone.”
“Jet, those passwords could be years old.”
“No,” she says, unshakable faith in her eyes. “The sticker is new, clean and white.” She flips the sapphire so that I can see the bright paper, then tucks the pendant back beneath her blouse.
“Don’t take stupid risks to get that phone. Let’s see how Max plays this—if he lives.”