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“No, not for another three months.”
Faith actually recoiled slightly in shock. Michael set his coffee down and leaned forward on his knees. “She spent three months in the hospital?” he asked.
“No,” he replied. “They kept her for forty-eight hours and then sent her home. She died in our living room.”
“So Hucksley didn’t kill her.”
“He did,” Fred insisted, nodding his head for emphasis. “Just not right away.”
“How did she die?” Faith asked.
“A cerebral embolism,” Fred said. “The doctors didn’t notice at first because it was apparently really tiny when she came in the night of the accident, and they were focused on the skull fracture and the broken bones. She had headaches when they sent her home, but we both just assumed that was part of the lingering trauma. We never suspected an embolism.”
“And you know for sure that the accident caused the embolism?” Faith asked.
“Yeah, that’s what the coroner said. He talked to the doctor who treated her, and based on that conversation…” His voice trailed off. “Hey, you know what? I think I remember Dr. Ames after all. She was the one who treated Mandy after the accident, right?”
“Right,” Faith said.
“Yeah, I remember now. She was really sweet, but I thought she was a little out of her depth. She hadjustcompleted her residency when Mandy got there. She was my age, and I could tell she was a little overwhelmed being an ER doctor. She was normally an ICU doctor, I guess, but Houston Regional requires all of their attendings to rotate to the ER at least once a month. Guess we just got unlucky that we had the least experienced one. She was really upset about missing the embolism. I had to hold her and tell her it wasn’t her fault.”
“So you never blamed her,” Faith said, hoping her frustration didn’t show. “Not even a little bit.”
Fred shook his head. “No, I didn’t blame her. She was thrown to the wolves. I was a little upset at the hospital administration for that stupid policy, but that’s not the doctor’s fault. She did her best.”
Faith and Michael shared a look and Faith saw the same frustration on Michael’s face that she felt. Other than his hatred for William Hucksley, he showed no animosity toward the victims. He didn’t even remember Marvin Prescott.
Faith sighed. “Mr. Harrison, can you confirm your whereabouts this past Monday night?”
“Yeah, I was here,” he said. “The penthouse has security footage if you want to check it out. The parking garage does too, if you don’t trust the penthouse’s cameras. My space is 118A. If you go to the security office, they’ll help you out.”
Michael went to check. While he did, Faith continued to interrogate Harrison, mostly to fill the time.
“You’re in pretty good shape, Fred,” she said. “Did that start after Mandy’s death?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that was the thing I did when I wasn’t working. I would get up really early in the morning and run. I would stay up late and lift weights and do calisthenics. Basically anything I could do to fill the time. I had trouble sleeping, and I didn’t want to sit alone in my house, so I just kept moving. I would run in the morning and go to the gym at night.”
“And you’ve never dated since Mandy died?”
“Well, not seriously. After six months or so, I couldn’t go any longer without… well, you know.”
“Sure,” she said with a nod.
“But it was never serious. I met a couple of people at the gym, one woman at work.” He chuckled. “That was a mistake. Never sleep with your coworkers.”
Faith thought of her long-dead relationship with Michael and nodded noncommittally. “Do you ever visit Mandy’s grave?”
“Oh, she was cremated,” Fred said.
Boy, this day was full of surprises. “Are her ashes with you or do you keep them at a mausoleum?”
“They’re here,” he said. “They’re in…well, you don’t need to see them, do you?”
“No,” she said, “I was just curious.”
He nodded. “Okay. Um…” His eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Is it the Graveyard Killer? Is he the one who killed Hucksley and Ames?”
“We can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” Faith demurred.
