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Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I know," she whispered. "This is all I know. I want to help. I really do. I just… I didn't want to believe it was possible. But now, I'm scared, too. I don't know what to do."
I got up from the chair and walked to the living room and looked at the children. "We're taking them with us for now,” I said. "A judge has awarded temporary custody of them to their grandmother."
"O-okay," she said with a sniffle. "Let me get their things together. Then you can take them."
Chapter52
John Baker lay in his hospital bed, staring up at the sterile ceiling tiles. He couldn't sleep—the pain medication had left him feeling restless. His body was aching, and his mind was racing. It was the middle of the night, and he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong. He turned his head to look out the window, but all he could see was the reflection of the dimly lit hospital room. He shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable, when he heard a faint rustling sound. He turned his head, looking toward the door, but it was closed, and he couldn't see anyone.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse and weak. "Who's there?"
There was no response, and John started to feel foolish. He was probably just being paranoid, he told himself. After all, he was in a hospital with plenty of security. There was no way anyone could get to him.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but the fear remained. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The painkillers they had given him were making him feel drowsy, but his mind was racing with thoughts of what would happen next. Would he ever fully recover? Would he be able to work? Would he even be able to remember again? He felt so confused. The police seemed to think he had murdered Rachel, but why couldn't he remember anything? It was like the past ten years were gone, evaporated from his mind. They told him they had children, but he didn't remember them. And now they said that Rachel was gone? His beloved wife that he just married was dead?
And I killed her?
As he lay there, he suddenly heard a sound that made him sit up in bed. Someone was in the room with him. He couldn't see anyone, but he could feel a presence.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice hoarse from the breathing tube.
There was no answer. He felt a prickling sense of fear creeping up his spine. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.
John felt a chill run down his spine. He was scared and confused. Was it a nurse? A doctor?
He told himself he was being paranoid, that he was safe in the hospital, but he couldn't shake the feeling. He tried to calm himself, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.
Then he felt something soft and heavy pressing down on his face—a pillow. He struggled, trying to pull it away, but he was too weak. The figure behind the pillow was strong, and he couldn't break free. His vision started to fade as he gasped for air. He could feel his body slipping away, his thoughts becoming muddled. He didn't want to die like this, alone and scared. He tried to call out, to scream for help, but no sound would come out.
He couldn't breathe. Panic set in as he realized someone was trying to suffocate him. He thrashed around as much as he could, but his body was weighed down. The room spun around him as he fought for air, but he knew he was losing the battle. His vision started to darken around the edges, and his body grew still as he lost consciousness.
Chapter53
We went home and had dinner with the kids. Angel was throwing food as usual, and Alex didn't eat much. He told us he was worried about Thomas. I told him he was safe with his grandmother now, as I had taken him and the twins there myself. Madeleine Johnson had been so grateful to get them home, as she put it. And their cousin Charlie was there too, so they weren’t the only children in the house.
Madeleine hugged me and told me thank you so many times that it became almost embarrassing. I was just happy they were safe and that they could now return to school and friends and have as normal a life as possible, even though it looked like they had lost their mom and dad all at once.
Once my kids left the table, Matt and I sat in the living room, bringing my glass of wine and talking about the case. He sipped his beer while I nursed my glass of Chardonnay.
"John Baker has an alibi," I said thoughtfully. "We need to seriously take that into consideration, along with the fact that Elyse Winters was killed after I shot him. How would he have been able to drive all the way to Jacksonville, kill her, bring her back, and bury her in his yard with a gunshot wound in his shoulder? He might not be our guy after all."
Matt nodded. "You’re making a valid point, but I’m still not convinced. Yes, he has an alibi, but from whom? Think about it."
"I know she's his lover," I said. "But it's still an alibi."
Matt furrowed his brow. "Not a very strong one. She could be lying because she cares about him."
I shook my head. "She didn't seem like she cared about him much when we talked to her." I took another sip of my wine. "It's hard to tell."
We sat in silence for a moment. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, but there was no answer in the ticking.
Matt swirled his beer bottle before taking a long sip and setting it down on the table.
"Maybe she's covering for him. Or maybe she's scared of him," he said thoughtfully.
I took a sip of my wine, contemplating his words. "That's possible. But we need more evidence before we can come to any conclusions."
As if she had heard me, the chief suddenly called, and I picked up.
