Page 17 of Backwater Justice

“We are happy to help in any way we can.” Annie smiled back as she clicked her seat belt.Myra was right. Something is definitely off.Not that she had any proof. Just a gut feeling. Same as Myra.

Annie’s phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Maggie, confirming her flight time for the next morning. Annie didn’t want to talk in front of Benjamin, so she sent her a text.

9:00AM wheels up. Talk later.

The first thing she was going to have Maggie do was to go back and interview everyone again about the disappearance of Vanessa Rowan. Tell them she was doing a follow-up story on runaway teens. There were plenty of them, so it wasn’t a far-fetched idea. The plan was for Maggie to speak to the Rowans first and let them know she was looking into the situation further, and this wasn’t merely a puff piece. She would also caution the Rowans not to discuss the case with anyone. If somebody asked why a reporter was coming around, the Rowans would give them Maggie’s phone number, and they could ask her themselves. No reason for the Rowans to be go-betweens. They had enough to deal with.

* * *

When Benjamin and Annie returned to the hospital, Oliver was standing in the hallway, talking to his Aunt Helen. “Annie! How nice to see you!” Oliver was effusive. No surprise there. And Annie was going to use it.

“Oliver! Great to see you, too! You’re looking dapper.” Annie eyed his custom-fitted jeans and blazer, pinstriped shirt, the iconic sideways T on his Tom Ford belt, the Ferragamo driving shoes. She mentioned them right at the start. “I suppose you have a car to match?” She chuckled and nodded toward his feet.

Oliver snorted. “A Porsche 911 if that counts.” He knew it did. At least for some people.

“Indeed it does. Maybe you can take me for a spin while I’m here.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Oliver gushed. A nurse shushed them. “Oops. Sorry.” He flashed the woman one of his winning smiles. She blushed.

Myra came out of Milton’s room. “We’re going to let him get some rest.”

“Good idea,” Annie replied. She knew Myra was chomping at the bit to find out where she and Benjamin had run off to. “We should probably head back to the hotel and get some dinner.”

“I can have Ruby fix something,” Patricia offered.

“Thank you, but it’s been a long day for us,” Myra replied. “We’re still on East Coast time.”

Patricia smiled. “Yes. Of course.”

Oliver placed his arm around her shoulders. “I suppose we can all use a little rest.”

* * *

Helen went into Milton’s room to say a quick good night. Benjamin took his turn after Helen returned to the hallway. Milton looked up at his son and winked. “Everything is going to be alright, son.”

“I am sure it will be. You rest up. We want you out of here.” He leaned over the lines of fluid and kissed his father on the top of his head. “Stay out of trouble.”

Milton wiggled his eyebrows. That’s when Benjamin was sure his father was doing much better.

As the group rode down the elevator, they made plans for the following day. Annie was going to corner Oliver and get that ride he’d promised. A thrill ride in a sports car wasn’t anything unusual for Annie. She wanted to flatter him into letting his guard down. Find out what skeletons he might have in his closet. He was just a little too slick for her liking.

Everyone agreed to meet at Patricia’s for breakfast, and then they would split up visitation hours and whatever else needed to be taken care of.

* * *

Annie and Myra were barely out of the building when Myra grabbed Annie’s bicep. “Spill it, girl.”

Annie laughed out loud. “Spill it. And he did. And here we are!” She looked to see if anyone was watching, then held up the piece of rug by one of its corners. “And there’s this.” She gently removed the glass from her tote.

“You are so brilliant,” Myra said, in awe.

“I know.” Annie hooted as they gave each other a high five. She carefully placed the items back in her bag; they linked arms and made their way back to the hotel. “We’re going to have to find a lab that can run tests on these.”

Myra was already dialing Charles’s number.

“Hello, love.” It never failed. His British accent made Myra swoon, even after all these years.

“Charles, dear. We need you to find us a lab. We have reason to believe someone may have tried to poison Milton.”