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"That's exactly what Ski said you would say. He bet me that's what you would say. I just lost five bucks."
"Whose car is that?"
He retrieved the glass and slammed back the last of the whiskey. "Belongs to the deputy who's guarding Starks's room at the hospital. Ski said I could borrow his car to come here, get cleaned up."
"Well, now that you're clean, you can drive the loaned car back. We'll follow in Mother's."
* * *
Berry was anxious to talk to Ski, or just to see him, if only from a distance.
She was also anxious to see Oren. She desperately wanted this episode of her life concluded, and it wouldn't be completely over and done with until she had acknowledged to Oren the part she'd played in all the egregious things he'd done.
He must have been mentally ill all along, but perhaps she had tipped a precarious balance that had plunged him into insanity. Perhaps if she'd been kinder and more tolerant, his innate impulses would have remained dormant until he died of natural causes at a very old age.
In any case, until she owned up to her culpability, she wouldn't have peace.
If his condition was as critical as Dodge had said, time was running out for her to meet that obligation. Unfortunately, as she was crossing the hospital lobby on her way to the ICU floor, she was intercepted by Ben and Amanda Lofland.
"So that's Ben," Dodge said out the corner of his mouth, his tone indicating he wasn't impressed by what he saw.
"You two go on up," Berry said. "I'll be along."
Reluctantly, Dodge ushered Caroline toward the bank of elevators, leaving Berry to confront the couple alone. Ben was in a wheelchair being pushed by a hospital orderly. He looked pale, drawn, and thin. Amanda was at his side. She was brimming with malice.
Berry said, "Hello, Ben, Amanda."
Speaking over his shoulder, Ben asked the orderly to give them a minute. As soon as he was out of earshot, Amanda launched her attack. "Why did you sic that deputy on me?"
"Ski?"
"Ski?" she repeated in an unflattering imitation of Berry. "You're on a first-name basis with him. No shocker there."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Amanda."
"He was here first thing this morning, questioning me about Sally Buckland. Questioning me. He found some calls to her on my cell phone. Why would he be investigating my call log if you hadn't poisoned his mind about me?"
Had the subject of Sally's death not been so serious, Berry would have rolled her eyes over Amanda's melodramatic phrasing. "All I ever said about you in connection with Sally was that I wasn't aware that you two knew each other."
"We didn't. But we both knew you. We both knew the treachery you're capable of."
"Let it go, Amanda." Ben sounded weary. Berry figured he'd been listening to her ranting about this for hours. "What does it matter now that Sally is dead and her killer is in custody?"
"So you've heard about Oren?" Berry asked.
"The TV in my room was on," he said. "Hell of a thing, this whole mess. And Sally." He ran his hand over his pasty face. "Jesus."
"You have no idea. It was quite awful, finding her that way. They're thinking that Oren abused and tortured her for hours before he killed her."
"I hope the creep dies," Amanda said. "He almost made me a widow."
"Mrs. Mittmayer wasn't as lucky as you," Berry said quietly.
"Like I said, I hope he dies." She gave Berry a hard look. "Are you here to see him?"
"I want to, yes."
"What for?" Ben asked, looking genuinely flummoxed.
