A Second Chance at Murder Read online

  I heard him, right behind me and willed my legs to churn faster.

  “Georgia, run!” Dad yelled.

  “Cooper, get the lead out!” Todd screamed.

  The tarp was in sight, directly ahead of me. Perhaps ten more strides and I was there! Cooper was upon me, the bullring in his hand. He laughed that locomotive laugh, making me chant in my head: I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

  Five strides left. I stretched my legs to the limit, my hamstrings burning.

  I know I can, I know I can, I know I can.

  Two strides left!

  Suddenly Cooper overtook me and flew into the blue tarp, leaping through the air as if he were tackling a Super Bowl opponent in the final play of the game.

  Everyone let out a roar, even Harris in an uncharacteristic moment of emotion screamed, “And the winners are Cooper and Todd!” Fireworks erupted from a metal canister near the tarp and Cooper and Todd jumped toward each other, bumping their chests together and dancing in a typical end zone celebration.

  Harris arranged his expression back into his usually blank Botoxed face and said, “Georgia, Gordon. You found the hidden clue in the citadel, had a drink with the beautiful Carmen at the bodega, and recovered the last item to complete the challenge. But, I’m sorry to say, you were not the first team to arrive and are therefore eliminated.”

  Dad hugged me.

  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “It’s not your fault, honey. We were a long shot. I’m so happy I got to be your partner and spend this time with you.”

  “Cooper, Todd!” Harris said. “Congratulations.” He extended his hand to receive the bullring from Cooper and held it up ceremoniously. “You are the official winners of Expedition Improbable and I’m happy to award you with the generous cash price of a quarter of a million dollars!”

  Cooper and Todd began to dance around again, and it took all my effort not to pull them apart and demand answers from Todd.

  While they celebrated, I took Becca aside and recounted quickly what I’d found out about Todd and Cooper.

  She frowned. “We better call Sergio, don’t you think?”

  Around us the crew began to pack up the tarp and load up the cameras.

  “Yes, he’ll want to talk to Todd, I’m sure.” Todd and Cooper grew silent as if they realized we were discussing them.

  Todd approached me. “Cooper said you wanted to talk to me?”

  “I know you gave the meds to Miguel, I just want to know why—”

  “I didn’t give the meds to Miguel!” he said.

  “Look, you can tell it to the police—”

  “I will! I didn’t give anything to Miguel! It’s not my fault. I know it was a bad decision to steal the bottle from Cooper, but I didn’t know if we’d win the contest and I needed the money. Juan Jose told me he really needed them and—”

  “What? Juan Jose?” I looked around for him.

  “Yeah,” Todd said. “I sold the bottle to Juan Jose. I’m sure he and Miguel were partying late and overdid it. It’s not pleasant, and I’m really sorry about it, but it was an accidental overdose.”

  I looked around the set. “Where is Juan Jose?” I asked Becca.

  “Oh, he went to Huesca,” Becca said.

  I froze. “What? Huesca for what?”

  Becca shrugged. “I don’t know. Cheryl and I were talking about Scott and how great it was that Monse found him. And I mentioned that Scott was at the hospital in Huesca, then Juan Jose said that reminded him he had some unfinished business in Huesca. So he asked Cheryl if he could take the afternoon off. She even let him borrow the SEAT. Can you believe it? I wish she’d give me an afternoon off and let me drive the car.” She shook her head at the injustice. “Anyway, he left right before you guys got here.”

  My blood drained to my toes and I felt light-headed. “Oh, my God. He’s after Scott! Scott can ID him.” I ran toward the crew bus. “I need a driver!” I screamed.

  Cheryl, Dad, and the others piled onto the bus, not wanting to be left behind.

  “What’s going on?” Dad asked.

  “We have to get to the Huesca hospital before Juan Jose. He’s going to try for a second chance at murder!”

  Twenty-six

  The driver didn’t take kindly to my telling him to crash through the rock wall on the other side of the bridge, but when Cheryl got in his face, he did it without question.

  Becca dialed Sergio and Montserrat, explaining the situation and asking them to meet us at the Huesca hospital.

  I grabbed the phone from her. “Sergio, can you call the hospital and ask them to place a security guard at Scott’s door?”

  He was silent a moment.

  “Sergio?”

  “I can try, Georgia, but it’s not likely I’ll be able to reach anyone at the hospital, and if I do, they probably won’t be able to spare the staff to guard the door.”

  I groaned.

  “I’ll do my best,” Sergio said.

  “Thank you!”

  When I hung up Cooper said, “I didn’t think it was him.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “All this time. I didn’t know it was him. I hooked up with that woman. You were right about that and she told me after that she had a boyfriend. I thought it was Scott. I thought he killed her and took off. That’s why I didn’t tell you anything. I figured soon enough you’d figure out that the guy had been two-timing you, but I didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.”

  Becca’s mobile phone rang and she passed it to me. “Looks like it’s Sergio.”

  I picked up and Sergio’s voice filled the line. “Georgia! I finally got through to the hospital. They agreed. They won’t allow visitors. They’re waiting for me, okay? I’m ten minutes away.”

  We hung up just as Cheryl screamed at the driver, “Get that pedal to the metal!”

  After a few more minutes of speeding down the interchange a yellow car came into view.

  “That’s him!” Dad shouted.

  “Run him off the road!” Cheryl said.

  The driver gave a terrified, “¿Que?” while the crew shouted out their protests.

  “Let’s not get carried away,” Cooper said. “Todd and I got reasons to live now!”

  The bus lumbered toward the yellow car. My heart raced as we all scrambled to the right side of bus to get a better view of the car. Cooper yanked down a window and began shouting inaudible jeers at the vehicle.

  The car had the top up and a huge scratch on the side and it somehow looked different.

  “No es, no es,” the driver said.

  “It’s not him!” Becca screamed.

  The yellow car was an older version of the flashy convertible SEAT Cheryl had rented. Behind the wheel of the little yellow car was an older woman. Suddenly, the air came out of us, as we collapsed back into our seats dejected.

  The hospital was still a few kilometers down the road and I took solace in the fact that Sergio had gotten through to them and they had promised no visitors.

  As soon as we pulled into the main parking lot, I sprinted off the bus while it circled looking for parking. Dad and Becca were right behind me, but my legs had new energy and I was unstoppable.

  I heard Dad joke to Becca, “Man, if only she could have run like that an hour ago, I’d be a quarter of a millions dollars richer.”

  I barreled through the front doors of the hospital, smashing directly into an orderly. He grabbed me and said, “¡Tranquila!” followed by a rush of Spanish I didn’t understand.

  I shook my head, indicating I didn’t speak Spanish. “It’s an emergency,” I said. “I have to see Scott Tailor.”

  The orderly looked alarmed and held his arms out blocking further entry into the hospital. “No, no, no! No se permiten visitantes.”

  I didn’t hav
e to speak Spanish to know he’d just put the kibosh on my visiting Scott. “No! That’s not meant for me! I’m okay! It’s—”

  Dad and Becca trailed me into the hospital shouting, “The SEAT’s here! Parked in the lot. He’s here.”

  I pushed past the orderly and sprinted down the hall to Scott’s room. The orderly dove for me, tackling me and knocking the wind out of me. I fell forward, breaking my fall with my hands but twisting my bad ankle awkwardly.

  Dad grabbed the orderly, and suddenly a rush of staff was in the hall, everyone screaming and shouting at each other. Cooper and Todd joined us in the crowded hallway and I scrambled to my feet.

  Cooper caught up with me. “What room’s he in?”

  “This way!” I said, darting past the nurses’ station where Sergio had asked about Scott the night before. Thankfully, it was now abandoned with the commotion we’d just caused down the hallway. Cooper and I ducked down a narrow passageway, both of us limping and in pain, hobbling as fast as our battered bodies would allow.

  Down the hallway, I could see someone in scrubs leaving Scott’s room. “That’s him!” I yelled.

  Juan Jose turned to see us, his eyes wide. He jolted as if electrocuted and rushed away from us. Cooper and I shuffled after him.

  A voice from behind us called out, echoing off the walls. “Hey, hey! Stop!” It was another hospital staff member, he looked imposing and ready to stop us at all costs.

  “I have to get to Scott,” I said to Cooper.

  Cooper, now trotting awkwardly, said, “You go. I got Juan Jose. He ain’t getting away from me!”

  I reached Scott’s door just as the staffer grabbed me.

  Another pair turned down the corridor, screaming in rapid Spanish. Montserrat and Sergio.

  “Juan Jose went that way,” I said to Sergio. He nodded and took off after Cooper and Juan Jose. “Let me go!” I said to the staffer.

  Montserrat showed her badge to the man and while she explained something in Spanish to him, he released me.

  I pushed open the door to Scott’s room. It was dark and deathly silent.

  “Scott!” I yelled out.

  He lay stiff and unmoving under the stark hospital sheet. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  “Scott!” I repeated.

  All the tubes that been in place the night before were still in place. The IV, the respirator, the catheter, but something was wrong. The room was too quiet and dark.

  I realized with a jolt a box was at the foot of the bed. The backup battery to the respirator had been removed and discarded, the respirator unplugged from the wall.

  I screamed and rushed to plug the machine back into the wall. It let out an angry beep and a flash of red lights, but nothing else happened. I scrambled to the door, opened it and shouted for help. Dad and Becca were already making their way down the long corridor. “Get a doctor! Stat!” I yelled.

  Becca heard me first and turned and ran back away from me. Dad ran toward me. “What’s happened? What is it?”

  Dad joined me in the room, where I was huddled over Scott, feeling helpless. The same doctor from the night before rushed into room, instructing us to stand back.

  I wept into Dad’s shoulder. More staff crowded the room, and Dad pulled me out into the hallway. Becca and Cheryl joined us.

  “Sergio and Cooper got him,” Cheryl said.

  It was little consolation to me now. I only wanted Scott to breathe. Dad explained to them what had happened, while I paced the hallway. After a moment, a staffer emerged from Scott’s room and ushered us toward the waiting room.

  I collapsed into the hard plastic chair and prayed.

  Becca eyed the vending machine nearby and squeaked out, “Anyone want a Coke?”

  I ignored her, but she squeezed my hand. “You probably haven’t eaten anything all day.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Dad stood and bought us all Cokes.

  The doctor appeared in the waiting room. I stood and walked to him, but he glanced around nervously.

  My stomach dropped.

  “¿Dónde está la policía?” the doctor asked.

  I realized he needed someone to translate. “Get Sergio or Monse,” I said to Becca.

  She sprang to her feet and left the room.

  The doctor held my hand, smiling and patting it reassuringly. “Está vivo.”

  I knew enough Spanish to understand what the doctor had said.

  Scott was alive!

  Thank God, he was alive!

  Becca returned with Sergio in tow. He had a long conversation with the doctor and finally turned to us. “Scott seems to be recovering nicely. Luckily, the coma-inducing medication had already been reduced. And while he’s not completely breathing on his own, when Juan Jose disconnected the respirator, Scott still had enough lung capacity to take some shallow breaths. It was lucky Georgia got here in time. Anymore of a delay and we would have been too late.”

  My knees felt weak and I leaned into Dad for support.

  “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” Dad said, rubbing my back.

  “Is he going to be all right?” I asked.

  “The doctor said it’s still too early to tell, but all the signs look really good,” Sergio said. “He’d like to keep the respirator on overnight as the medication is still in his system. In the morning, Scott will be more awake and he’ll be able to answer some questions.”

  “Can I see him?” I asked.

  Sergio turned to the doctor and translated my question, but he shook his head saying, “Mañana.”

  • • •

  Sergio had to leave us to help Montserrat with Juan Jose. He squeezed my hand and leaned in close to me. “I will come later to the B&B.”

  “What about my car?” Cheryl called after him.

  He turned on a heel and smiled at her. “I’m sorry, you will have to go back on the bus. The police are confiscating the SEAT.”

  “What?”

  Sergio winked. “There could be evidence in there. I have to test it on the interchange and see what flies out!”

  Cheryl snarled at him, but he only chuckled as he left the waiting room.

  Dad, Cheryl, Becca, and I piled into the bus. Cooper was entertaining the crew with his version of Juan Jose’s capture. He acted out an overly dramatic slow-motion rendition of his dive to stop the killer in his tracks. The crew was riveted. Especially Kyle, who screamed out with laughter at everything Cooper said and like a small child kept saying, “Again! Tell the story again.”

  Harris was silently sulking at not being the center of attention and taking great interest in the state of his cuticles.

  Dad and Cheryl sat together and I took the seat behind them. Becca was ready to slide in next to me, when Cooper reached out with one of his big frying pan hands and blocked her.

  “Are you trying to steal my best friend?” Becca asked.

  “Nah, sweetness,” Cooper said. “Georgia has room in her heart for all of us.”

  He scrunched in next to me, leaving Becca to sit with Todd.

  “It didn’t really happen like I said,” Cooper admitted. “Your cop friend tackled him. But I got a reputation to uphold.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay, Coop. They got him, that’s the important thing. And you’re still my MVP, no matter what.”

  He shrugged. “I feel bad I didn’t let you win. I was thinking after this show airs, with that bit at the monastery, I think I can land an insurance sponsor. You know? You’re in good hands with Cooper, or something like that.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sure that will happen anyway. I mean if Cheryl doesn’t leave that bit on the cutting room floor.”

  Cheryl’s head flung around so fast, I thought we’d have to go back into the hospital for whiplash. “Leave that bit on the cutting room floor! Are you kidding me? Boy, we are g
oing to top the charts!”

  “Where’s our bus driver?” Becca asked.

  “I think he went to play cards over there,” Kyle said, pointing to a small cantina across the street.

  “Oh, for goodness sake!” Cheryl said. “Can’t these Spaniards go a few hours without tapas?”

  “I want to live here,” Dad said wistfully.

  A white van with a gray satellite dish on top and the Aragón Televisión logo emblazoned on the side of it pulled up next to our bus. From the passenger side, a dark-haired woman with a microphone in her hand rushed out.

  “Oh! It’s the press!” Cheryl said, jumping to her feet. “Give me a moment. We’re not only going to the top the charts. We’re going to be an international sensation!”

  After a moment, our driver left the cantina; the remnants of a chorizo sandwich still in his hand. He boarded the bus, popping the rest of the sandwich in his mouth, and then patted his ample belly with his free hand and gave us a happy smile.

  Cheryl followed him onto the bus after chatting with the reporter. The bus started up and we tore off in the direction of the B&B.

  Twenty-seven

  Once at the B&B, I phoned Scott’s mother, Bernice, and filled her in on the latest developments. She was overjoyed that we’d found Scott, but understandably concerned about his head injury. I reassured her that I’d phone her back after I visited with him in the morning.

  Downstairs in the bar area, the remaining cast and crew were all gathered around, dressed in white clothes and already enjoying pitchers of sangría.

  Cooper had his leg elevated and I limped over to join him.

  The senora appeared with a bag of ice for each of us and the same ointment from the other night.

  “This stuff is magic,” I said to Cooper slathering it on my ankle.

  Cooper was happy to apply some on his knee, but said he thought whiskey would help more.

  At that point the door to the bar swung open and Sergio stepped in. Cooper excused himself and Sergio sat next to me.