Bombshell Part 2

Griffin arched a perfect eyebrow at Ruth and continued rubbing his sister's hand. He said, "Delsey told me she wanted to learn everything in the known universe about how to put together a multi-instrument score, and this was the place. She never wanted to go to Juilliard, said New York was too big, too noisy, too claustrophobic.

"I haven't seen Delsey since she moved here last September to attend graduate school. I didn't make it home for the holidays because there were three bank robberies right before Christmas that had the police chief and the mayor screaming at us, and so I volunteered to head it all up, since, unlike most of the other agents, I'm not married with kids whose stockings needed stuffing."

"Did you catch the bank robbers?"

Griffin nodded. "Two brothers, both two-time felons, neither very bright. We cuffed them while they were sleeping off a drunk in a Napa Valley motel."

"I'll bet they bragged about their big score in a bar."

He gave her a grin that would smite female hearts from twenty paces. "Yeah, something like that. The bartender called us."

A tech appeared in the doorway. "Dr. Chesney said to bring this to you right away, Agent n.o.ble."

Griffin said, "The results from the blood in Delsey's bathtub?"

"Looks like." Ruth took a piece of paper from him.

Ruth sighed, handed Griffin the lab report. "All the results tell us so far is that we were right about the blood in the bathtub not being Delsey's. The blood on the floor, Delsey's blood, was AB positive, and the blood in the bathtub is the ever-popular Type O. They've started the DNA typing, so we can still hope for some magic from the lab if they get a match in the DNA Index System." She eyed him. "A cold hit is not very likely, though, as you know."

Griffin said, "If she walked in on a burglary that morphed into a murder, or on someone putting a body in her bathtub, he would have killed her, not just hit her on the head."

"Maybe he thought the blow did kill her. Maybe that's what he intended. Or maybe he panicked." How close had she been to dying? He tasted ashes in his mouth. What they needed was for Delsey to tell them what happened last night.

Ruth said, "Dix has already a.s.signed a deputy to stand guard outside her room. If the perp does think he killed her and finds out she's alive, he might try again."

Griffin said, "Let's hope not, but thank you. If the person in the bathtub was dead, the killer took the body out of Delsey's apartment for a good reason. And what could the reason be? Someone could have seen him, no matter that it was well after midnight. He was taking a huge risk, carrying the body into her apartment, then carrying it out after Delsey screamed. Either Delsey's attacker walked out, was helped out, or his killer really didn't want us to know who he was, which would be the case no matter what else was involved. If it was a burglary, what were they after? I've thought about that but can't think of anything particularly valuable. Her guitar is, I suppose, but not her piano, so that adds to the questions. What did they want? What did they hope to find?"

Griffin looked back at Delsey. "I guess I should tell you we have a name for my sister in the family-Trouble Magnet-that's with capital letters, her official t.i.tle. She drives our parents nuts." Griffin told her about Delsey's first newspaper route, when she delivered papers to a bank robber.

Ruth stared at him. "That's pretty funny, but only since it turned out well. Does Delsey have anything to do with why you became an FBI agent?"

"Not really, but some of our instincts are the same. I have several more stories about Delsey that'll make your hair rise on your neck. If there's a wrong place and a wrong time, and the wrong guys, Delsey will find them or they'll find her. Maybe it's all mistaken ident.i.ty. I wouldn't be surprised, given her history."

"I believe our patient moved a bit."

Delsey heard voices, one of them familiar, and the voice seemed to be talking about her. She slowly opened her eyes to see her brother not three feet from her nose. "Griffin?"

Her voice was a skinny thread of sound that scared him to his feet. "Yep, I'm here. How are you feeling, Dels?"

"Don't ask me that yet; I'm not sure. My brain seems to be floating up there somewhere near the ceiling. Maybe it's better if I let it hover up there for a while."

He patted her cheek. "Hovering is good. Gotta tell you, Dels, you look a little pathetic with the big white bandage around your head."

"So you're more beautiful than me right now?"

"Maybe, but you've got the win on drama points with that big honker bandage. Very impressive."

"I heard you talking. You didn't sound happy. Why?"

"Something happened to you," he said. "Again."

Delsey pulled her hand away from his and slowly raised it to touch her head. "What? Was I in an accident?"

"No, not an accident. You don't remember?"

She frowned, then shook her head and gasped. "I don't think I should move again. My head, Griffin-my head feels like it'll explode if I do. That would be an awful sight, even for you, Mr. Macho FBI Agent."

Griffin was on his feet. "I'm going to go find a nurse, get some meds for you, all right?"

"Yeah, that'd be good. Oh, no."

She lurched up, and Ruth managed to get a bedpan to her mouth in time. She fell back against the pillow, shut her eyes. "I'm sorry. I had too much to drink last night."

"Not a problem." Ruth wiped Delsey's mouth with a wet towelette. Not a good time for questions. She said, "Close your eyes and make your breathing light and shallow, that's right, just relax." She began stroking the back of Delsey's hand as she said slowly, her voice as calm as a shallow summer river, "I'm Agent Ruth n.o.ble. No, don't try to talk. Keep everything easy, Delsey, just listen, don't think. I'm married to the local sheriff, Dix n.o.ble. He's a lovely man, all tall and dark and tough as a muscle truck. He actually saved my life last year. It turned into a real gnarly mess here in Maestro as I'm sure you've heard, but we got it all straightened out. I have two stepsons now, Rob and Rafer, seventeen and fifteen. Both of them look like their father, and that means they're going to be heartbreakers. Well, Rob already is. I'm going to be working in Washington with your brother, at the Hoover Building.

"There, that's better, isn't it? I don't want you to worry about anything. Keep still until your insides settle."

"Could I have a sip of water?"

Ruth set a plastic straw on her tongue. "Not too much, now; that's right."

Delsey took a single sip, felt her stomach twist, then, thank the Good Lord, it quieted down. "I've heard of you, Agent-"

"Call me Ruth."

"Okay, Ruth. Most everyone at Stanislaus has heard of you, Ruth, you and your husband, Sheriff n.o.ble. I heard a Stanislaus student was murdered, then the director's secretary."

"Yes. We got it sorted out."

"A lot of the women at Stanislaus think Sheriff n.o.ble's hot-some of the guys do, too. It will get even worse now that Griffin's in town. When the women get a load of him, there'll be fistfights."

Ruth smiled and patted her hand. "You might be right. He's quite a package."

"Poor Griffin, he has to deal with females up to about eighty coming on to him. Maybe the older women want to mother him. Or not, hard to say."

Griffin came through the door with Nurse Morsi, who checked Delsey's pulse, put a stethoscope to her chest, and said "good" several times. Ruth told her about Delsey getting sick. Instead of a magic med, Nurse Morsi produced a saltine cracker. "Chew on this, Delsey. Go slow, that's right, a bit at a time. It will help with the nausea."

Delsey chewed on the cracker. Her stomach didn't complain. "Thanks. That's good."

"A flash of nausea is common with a concussion; nothing to worry about. It's already gone, right?"

Delsey took the last bite of cracker, waited for a moment, and nodded.

"Good. If the nausea comes back we can give you an injection to calm things down. You had quite a bit of alcohol last night that showed up on your blood tests. That can't be helping. Right now I want you to lie still, have some more water and saltines when you feel like it, and let your body reboot."

Nurse Morsi left after a long look at Griffin, one Delsey recognized as saying, How about I buy you a drink? Delsey focused on her brother. "Griffin, I don't understand. What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to my new job in Washington and planned on stopping here to surprise you."