All The Way
Chapter 31
Santa Fe, New Mexico
The morning light filtered through the blinds of the hospital room. Eliot slowly opened his eyes and felt relief; the throbbing pain in his head and back had subsided. How long had he been asleep? Time seemed an abstract concept his brain struggled to grasp.
The sound of gentle breathing caught his attention. A cradled face, surrounded by auburn hair, gently slept at the edge of his bed. Tenderly, his fingers touched her hair, feeling its softness. How peaceful she looked, his courageous lioness. The silky strands of hair made him think of Hallie's golden locks. Where was his sleeping beauty?
From his peripheral vision, a figure in white, slipped into the room and move to the side of the bed, took his wrist and raised it for a pulse.
"How much do you want removed during your surgery, Professor Stokes?" The figure asked while firmly holding Eliot's wrist. Swiftly, Stokes turned, pulling on his wrist, looking up in the direction of the voice.
"Herb! What the devil?"
Herbert Osmond chuckled, looking back and forth at Stokes and the sleeping physician.
"I'm glad she's resting." He replied, lowering his voice while reaching around to pull up a chair. Eliot inspected Herb's disguise-scrubs, surgical mask and stethoscope.
"What on earth are you doing posing as a doctor?"
Osmond leaned even closer to the bed to avoid being overheard.
"Eliot, we're in the middle of a hornet's nest. There's been hell to pay since we all arrived at the hospital. When they brought in Carter's body the news traveled like wildfire. Reporters began to swarm at the news of Richard Carter's death."
Stokes leaned closer, eyes narrowed, carefully listening to every word. "So tell me, what have you learned?"
Dr. Osmond placed his elbows on the bed, getting comfortable, before unfolding his story.
"It's a miracle that we're all alive. We endured a lot out there, the drug induced comas, dehydration and exposure. Hell, that damn Carter ambushed me outside the mess tent." Osmond angrily stroked his knuckles, recalling the event. "The bastard was always a coward, even back at Harvard."
"Where's Hallie? Is she awake?" Eliot asked anxiously.
Osmond abruptly reached out and touched his friend's arm. "They're working with Hallie, Eliot. She's still in a coma, but they're seeing progress. They've been analyzing the powder Julia brought in. They've been comparing it to drugs commonly used in ceremonies in this area to see if they can work to counteract it. We should be grateful Julia thought to bring the powder along. Hallie's going to recover, it will just take time."
The professor's throat tightened and felt tears welling in his eyes. Herb swallowed hard, watching his friend fight to control his emotions. Clearing his voice, Eliot encouraged Osmond to continue the story.
"That's just the start of all this mess. The sheriff in Utah thinks we're a bunch of university hippies. You know, free love and drugs and all that nonsense. This Utah official thinks we were in his jurisdiction. Unfortunately, it's an election year there and the man wants the publicity. He's been spreading the word that he's going to crack this hippie cult, and solve this murder."
Stokes' eyebrow arched severely. "Murder?"
Osmond slowly nodded. "It gets better. I knew I had to find out more. That's when I became Dr. Herbert Osmond, Cardiologist. I have found if you act with enough authority, no one will question who you are or what you're doing. So I've been moving at will through this entire hospital. Don't worry, Eliot, I have performed no surgeries."
Eliot's lips pulled into a whisper of a smile. Leave it to Herb to add humor to any dilemma.
Osmond toyed with the stethoscope earpieces. "Once Richard Carter arrived here at the hospital, the grapevine began to work. The coroner, assistant coroner and pathologist began their superficial examination of the body's external injuries."
"You were there?"
Herb grinned. "I wheeled the body in, then lingered to gather soiled instruments and listened as they discussed the body. They were in total agreement while examining the torso and extremities and agreed the bodily injuries were consistent with a fall. However, once they reached the head, they became silent and exchanged knowing glances. The black eyes were pre-mortem they determined. Removing the bandage from the neck, seeing the massive laceration, the men inhaled loudly and stepped back. That's when all hell broke loose. They were on the phone to the officials, you know, the Federal people."
"Federal?"
"Yes, the Feds. Huntington Carter had been notified by that time and had contacted the Federal people. We were on Federal land, and this sheriff in Utah has no jurisdiction. Of course, this doesn't keep him from grandstanding, posturing and pursuing his own interests. He's even sent men to the camp searching for the murder weapon."
Eliot's left hand slipped to his waist, thinking of the leather sheath he kept on his belt. He had buried the leather sheath deep in the sediments of the cave. But the knife, where was the knife? The knife Marjorie had given him in Maine.
"Listen to this. The Federal people immediately met with the chief coroner and pathologist concerning Richard Carter's body. The two physicians wanted to proceed with the rest of the autopsy. The next part is a shocker. Huntington Carter must have major clout somewhere in Washington. The Feds instructed the coroner and pathologist to rule Carter's death an accident and to immediately send his body to a special facility in Phoenix without an autopsy. The two physicians were not happy about this at all."
Herb turned his attention to Julia sleeping peacefully at his side. His voice grew even softer, leaning closer to his friend.
"I don't know what you two have been through." Osmond held up his finger for silence. "And I don't want to know what you've been through. All I can say is you need to be silent. And if you know anything at all about this 'murder weapon' you need to get rid of it."
Eliot's eyes narrowed in thought, lips tightly pursed. "Certainly they don't think the neck injury caused Carter's death, after all, the man fell at least a hundred feet? The man deliberately stepped off the cliff to avoid the consequences of his actions."
His friend thought for a moment. "They didn't say. I'm sure they feel the injuries were closely related. Carter had two black eyes indicating there had been a conflict of some type, coupled with all the other injuries. I'm sure in their minds, they feel if you can't cut the man's throat, then push him off a cliff. Hell, look at us, Eliot. We look as though we've through a war. Anything could have happened out there in no-man's-land."
Stokes closely scrutinized Osmond's face for bruising.
"If you're looking for bruising, I borrowed some powder and rogue from another locker while I was completing my wardrobe."
Eliot shook his head, the worry still on his face.
"I believe the Feds will win out on this. Huntington Carter has some major pull. I'm sure he'll make it worth their while to see it his way. The Feds were pleading their case well, saying how Dr. Carter's good name and reputation must be spared and that an accident ruling would spare the family unpleasant publicity. A phone call was placed through to the morgue and the physicians spoke with the old man himself."
"Where were you during all of this, Herb?"
"I was down near the coolers sweeping the floor, but I could hear every word."
"How did the coroners and pathologist respond to Huntington Carter?"
"I didn't hear much from them. They described Carter's injuries. The rest of the time they listened. Finally, I heard one of them say, 'We had no idea, Dr. Carter. We certainly don't want to harm your family, but you understand our position.' I can only imagine what Carter was telling them. After a moment of silence on our end the coroner replied over the phone, 'We'll ship his body immediately. No, we will not perform an autopsy. We are sorry for your loss, Dr. Carter."
Osmond leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Now isn't that something?"
Eliot reached over and gingerly touched Julia's hair. "I suppose some mysteries should be left unsolved." Stokes replied casually.
Herb watched his friend's calm manner with concern. "Be careful, Eliot. This mess may not be over. That fool in Utah is looking for newspaper headlines. What if he finds this so called 'murder weapon'? It could still create major problems. Even if he received a call from Huntington Carter, he might use the call to his advantage and continue the investigation."
The professor turned to Herb. "But there's been no autopsy. The coroner and pathologist have ruled it an accident. There's been no murder, only an accident."
"Eliot, I'm your friend. As I said earlier, I don't know and don't want to know what happened between the three of you. I can only imagine. But I'm telling you now, don't become complacent. This could still come back to haunt you. Some things are never really over.
~~~tbc~~~