One Grave Too Many

lecture mode again. Frank had a lot of confidence in Jake, so maybe it was good he was on the case. Jake introduced her to the two men standing with them—Frank’s boss and his partner from Atlanta. Both were somber and looked like they were at a funeral. She wanted to kick them. She couldn’t seem to shake her irritable mood.
    “Frank’s told us a lot about you,” his partner said. “I’m glad to meet you. Frank’s tough. I’m sure he’s going to pull through this.”
    “I think he’ll be just fine,” she said, trying to believe her own words. That’s what they wanted to hear too. No small talk, just Frank’s going to pull through.
    “Oh,” said Izzy. “We found this in the bushes.” He handed her her cell phone. “No sign of your purse.”
    “Thanks. I imagine it’s in a gutter somewhere.”
    After that exchange, Diane had to explain what had happened to her. The two Atlanta detectives were surprised at the coincidence. Maybe they would give Izzy a nudge, she hoped.
    She excused herself and went to the nurses’ station to ask if she could see Frank when he was awake.
    “Are you a relative?”
    “No, a friend.”
    “I’m sorry, only family members are allowed. His wife is with him now.” The nurse was curt, and she started to turn her back on Diane.
    “He doesn’t have a wife,” said Diane.
    The nurse stopped and stared at Diane with sparkling black eyes.
    “That is probably his ex-wife,” continued Diane. “They’ve been divorced for five years, and she’s been remarried for five years. However, they have a son who needs to hear how his father is doing. So it’s a good thing for her to see for herself. There’s also a little girl upstairs whose whole family has been murdered. Frank is her guardian, and she needs to hear how he’s doing. If she had been responsible for what happened to her family, Frank wouldn’t be lying in there now.”
    “Are you Diane?” asked another nurse who had been openly listening to Diane’s diatribe.
    “Yes.”
    “He’s been asking for you. He’s pretty insistent. I think the doctor will allow you to see him.” She eyed the first nurse as she spoke.
    “If the doctor says so . . .”
    Cindy Reynolds came through the double doors from the recovery rooms, and the first nurse frowned at her. Cindy didn’t notice. She headed for Diane, and the way her eyes were tearing up, it frightened her.
    “How is he?” asked Diane, afraid of the answer.
    “He looks so pale. But the nurse says he’s doing well under the circumstances.”
    “And Kevin?”
    “He doesn’t know yet. He’s at my mother’s. I didn’t want to say anything to him until I . . . I had to see for myself.”
    “Of course. Star’s just terrified.”
    “That poor child. If anything happens to Frank, it’ll be as bad on her as it will on Kevin—worse, in a way. Kevin has family who love him. Star’s all alone.” Cindy took a breath and bit her lip. “Let me know how he’s doing.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a card. “Here’s my cell phone.”
    “If there’s any change, I’ll call.”
    All animosity that Cindy may have been harboring from their last encounter had evaporated. At least that was one good thing—Diane couldn’t handle any more verbal sparring.
    She had to wait another hour before she could get in to see Frank. She was tired, and all the adrenaline that had been keeping her pain-free was dissipating and her back was throbbing, as were several muscles that weren’t hurting before.
    When one of the nurses told her she could see him, she hoped she didn’t look like she was on her last legs.
    Cindy hadn’t exaggerated when she said Frank looked pale. He was so white he could have been dead. Diane held the door frame so she wouldn’t fall.
    “He’s doing much better now,” said the nurse. “I’ve had a chance to work with him for a couple of hours now, and his blood pressure is up to normal. So is his temperature. You’re Diane, right? He’s been asking for you.”
    Diane came over to his side and took his hand. It was cold. “Frank, it’s me, Diane.”
    His eyes opened slightly and she thought she saw him attempt a smile. He gave her hand a weak squeeze.
    “Don’t try to talk. I’ve seen Star. She’s worried, but I told her you’re going to be fine. When I leave here I’ll go back up and tell her I’ve seen you.”
    He nodded his head. “You?” he whispered.
    “I’m doing great. Healing up just fine.”
    “Liar,” he