Insidious
Page 84

 Aleatha Romig

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When I didn’t respond, Parker did. “She will, sir. Thank you.” He leaned over me and disconnected the line. “I’ll drive you. Let’s go.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’ll be at the warehouse tomorrow, if I can.”
“You will. Unless you’re the one in the hospital, you’ll be there.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes, Parker, I’ll be there. Bring your proof.” When he narrowed his eyes, I rephrased, “Please bring your proof. Right now I need to get to my mother.”
“You’re in no condition to drive.”
Now he’s worried about my condition? Asshole! “I won’t drive. Travis will drive me.”
Parker’s jaw clenched. “We’ll discuss Mr. Daniel’s employment future after tomorrow.”
I nodded. He was fucking crazy if he thought this was the way it was going to be. Nonetheless, I could play the role. I’d been taught well.
Though everything within me wanted to run for the door, I sat unmoving, respectful, and complacent, while Parker slowly gathered his things, including the copy of his new contract and placed them in his briefcase. The motherfucker probably never thought I’d made a copy. When he turned to leave, he quipped, “Until tomorrow, Victoria. Best regards to your mother.”
Fucker!
My cell phone rang and the screen flashed: VAL.
VAL MET ME as I rushed from Travis’ SUV and ran into the emergency room. The crowd of people didn’t register as I looked at my sister’s face. She was a doctor; she was supposed to be better at hiding her emotion.
“Oh my God,” I said, as sobs erupted from my chest. “Is she dead?”
Val wrapped her arms around me. “No, she’s alive, barely.” She led me through doors, down hallways, and to an elevator. Next, we walked through more doors and hallways. Finally, we arrived at a small private room with chairs, a fish tank, and too many fake plants. “They know we’re here. The nurses will keep us updated as she’s in surgery.”
On the way to our waiting area, Val explained that our mother had an array of injuries. They’d know more about her internal injuries once all the scans were complete; however, early tests indicated damage to her spinal cord and possible traumatic brain injury. Apparently, she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and flew forward upon impact. The only thing that saved her from going through the windshield was the airbag; however, that caused other problems. Once we sat, I asked the question that had been on my mind since I received the call. “Do you really think she was drinking?”
Val closed her eyes. “I don’t want to. I mean, she didn’t go back to drinking even when Randall died. Why would she drink now?”
I stood and paced. “She wanted to come to my apartment yesterday. If I would have said yes…”
“Stop that. If Marilyn Sound decided to pick up a bottle of vodka, she and she alone is the person responsible: not you. You’ve been blamed for too many things in your life. This is not one of them. Don’t think that way.
“All I can say,” she continued, “is thank God she didn’t harm anyone else. As a doctor I see too many innocent people hurt and killed by drunk drivers.”
“That’s just it,” I proclaimed. “I don’t think she would do this.”
Val looked at me dubiously.
“I know. I’m not the one who usually sticks up for Marilyn. I just don’t feel right about this.”
“Vik, the sobriety test didn’t lie. I didn’t want to believe it either, but I could smell it on her. Also, they’ll be doing more blood draws here to verify it. We’ll know more when they report to us.”
My purse vibrated. I looked at my phone. Travis. His text was simple and to the point:
“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”
I hit the CALL button. “Val, will you explain to Travis where we are? I don’t even know. I wasn’t paying attention.”
She nodded, and as I was about to hand her the phone, his deep voice came through the receiver and echoed through the small room. “Don’t fucking tell me you left the hospital?”
Val’s eyes widened.
I grinned. “He has a way with words.” I spoke into the phone. “We’re in some waiting room. Perhaps you could keep your opinions to yourself and speak with Val. She’ll explain where we are.”
His tone morphed back to the one I’d heard for a decade. “Thank you, Mrs. Harrington, I’d be happy to speak to the good doctor.”
Shaking my head with a grin, I handed Val the phone. While she explained our location to Travis, I wondered about the boys. Marcus was at the University of Miami, but what about Lyle? In order for Marilyn’s blood alcohol level to be as high as it was, she would have needed to consume a substantial amount. Was she drinking before he left for school?
Val handed me back my phone. On the screen I saw BRODY PHILLIPS. I turned it off and placed it back in my purse. When I turned toward Val, I could tell by the look on her face that she’d read the name. I shrugged. “He’s one of the attorneys at Craven and Knowles. It probably has to do with Stewart’s will. I’ll call him back later.” Changing the subject, I spun my large yellow diamond and asked, “Val? How much alcohol would it take to get to a .38 percent? How many drinks?”
She momentarily closed her eyes. “It depends on how quickly she drank and if she’d been eating. But on average a drink is considered one and a half ounces, of hard liquor at least. They said there was a vodka bottle in the car. To reach .38 would probably take at least ten drinks and that would be if she drank them quickly. If she’d been drinking for a longer period of time, it would take more. The body processes about half an ounce an hour.”