Families are messy - 20

“I don’t care what the cops say, it’s bogus. Casey wasn’t trying to kill himself.” Marcia glared at Fairchild.

“Hey, don’t yell at me, I’m on your side on this. I managed to get in to see him, well,” Fairchild smiled, “sneak in to see him yesterday afternoon. He’s going to be fine by the way according to his nurse. She’s something else.” He shook his head in amusement. “But that’s beside the point. He told me what happened, as much as he could remember. The nurse did confirm one thing that makes his story that much more believable. Who ever cut his wrist picked the wrong one. He’s right-handed and they slashed his right wrist.”

“Either they didn’t think about what they were doing or were just stupid.”

“Agreed. There’s one other thing, the dog. Straight out of Sherlock Holmes.”

“He didn’t bark?” Marcia almost smiled at that. “So Duke must have known the person, but that isn’t so surprising since we’re sure it’s someone in Casey’s family.”

“That just might eliminate Mr. Harman,” Fairchild said pensively. “I’ll have to ask Casey about that.” He leaned back to watch Marcia who was now pacing his office like a caged tigress. “So what went on between you and him? He said you’re the one who found him, and he didn’t seem very happy about that.”

“You’re what happened. You told him about me and he blew up.”

“So things were getting personal between the two of you?” When she nodded he said, “Sorry, but he had a right to know that his wife had set you on him. That, Marcia, is part of why he hired me, to keep him safe and informed about everything.”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s my own damned fault.” She stopped her pacing to stare out the window. “If I’d been up front with him from the moment I thought...“ She sighed again. “But I wasn’t.” Spinning around to look at Fairchild she said forcefully, “We have to find out who’s doing this to him.”

“No shit Sherlock. And the first thing is to find out were everyone was Saturday night.”

“We can’t quite knock on their front doors and ask.” Marcia frowned. “Has anyone notified his family that he’s in the hospital?”

Fairchild shook his head. “Not as far as I know unless the cops did. Casey told me he wants to keep it on the QT. He’s hoping whoever is doing this will try again but more blatantly since they’ve failed four times now. And this time he’ll be ready for them.”

“That’s beyond stupid,” Marcia growled. “Doesn’t he understand how many ways they can still get to him? Hell, they might even drop the idea of making it look like an accident or suicide and just go for the throat.”

“I don’t think so,” Fairchild replied. “Murder him openly and everyone will be under police scrutiny including the killer. They’re doing it this way for exactly that reason.”

“So he goes to the police and lays it out for them the way he has for you. Surely they’ll see what’s happening and open their own investigation.”

Fairchild didn’t reply, looking past her to the door to his office instead.

Casey stood there, having come in moments before Marcia’s last words. Now he said, “As far as the police are concerned I’m in their records as having tried to kill myself twice. They’re not going to believe anything I tell them to the contrary.” He glanced at Fairchild. “Are they?”

“They’ll certainly look askance at you if you try to convince them otherwise. You have no proof to back you up.”

“Exactly.” Casey crossed to sit in the chair by Fairchild’s desk, pointedly ignoring the fact that Marcia was also in the room. “So it’s up to you and me to put a stop to this, Fairchild.”

Fairchild tapped his fingers on the desk. “You’d be asking for a quick death I think if you try to put yourself in position to be attacked again. This person has to be getting desperate. And,” he took a long look at Casey, “you’re hardly up to par at this point.”

“I agree, I’ve felt better but I’m up and walking and haven’t fallen on my face, yet. That said we have to set up something so that they won’t succeed even in my less than healthy state.”

“I can hardly spend twenty-four/seven with you, Casey. People might talk.” Fairchild grinned. “And Gabe would shoot me before your stalker got to you.”

“They wouldn’t think anything about me being with him,” Marcia said quietly from behind Casey.

“Not happening,” Casey growled.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Fairchild interjected before the situation could turn ugly. “We can play this out one of two ways. First, that the two of you are becoming much more serious about each other. That would push this person to act fast before you do something to make the relationship permanent.”

“You realize I couldn’t do that until my divorce is final,” Casey pointed out.

“But it could still look as if you were heading in that direction. That’s one scenario. The other is that the two of you have a very big, very public fight, one that makes it seem she’s breaking up with you. That, plus the pending divorce, could push you over the edge, or so it would seem if you were found dead by your own hand.”

Marcia shook her head. “If we do it that way that leaves him unprotected because there’s no reason for me to be with him.”

Casey shot her a sour look. “I’m quite able to keep myself safe.”

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” She looked pointedly at the bandages on his wrist that were showing beneath his shirt cuff.

“It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been pissed at you and not paying attention.”

“Right, blame me.” She smacked him across the back of the head before going to the window again, staring out at the street.

“What’s so interesting out there?” Fairchild asked.

She turned, leaning against the window frame. “Nothing. Just trying to regain control of my temper before I do him serious damage.”

“Maybe she’s the one after me,” Casey muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“If I were you’d be dead,” she countered.