“Which made him wonder why someone involved in the kidnapping would come all this way to ask you about Ms. Colton.”
Liza had been lifting the milk glass to her mouth to help her swallow the pill, and his question caused the glass to wobble, splashing milk on the coffee table.
Dr. Hathaway quickly steadied her hand and helped her take a drink. It gave her time to think of her answer.
“Thank you,” she said softly. She used a napkin to wipe up the spill. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I’m a little weak today. To answer your question, Emily and I are very close, more like sisters than—than cousins. I suppose if—if she escaped from whoever took her, they would expect her to come to me.”
“And you haven’t seen her or talked to her?” Detective Wilson asked, both men’s gazes fixed on her.
In spite of the temptation to look at the doctor, Liza faced her inquisitors and quietly said, “No. I’ve neither seen her nor talked to her. But I wish I had.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ramsey said, nodding. “But do you have any idea where she might’ve gone if she escaped from whoever took her?”
“No,” she said shaking her head. “But it’s a good sign, isn’t it? I mean, if the bad guys are looking for her, that means they don’t have her, doesn’t it?”
The two detectives exchanged a look. Then Ramsey said, “The ransom was paid yesterday, Ms. Colton. They didn’t catch the guy who collected the money and your cousin hasn’t been found.”
“Maybe the man you saw today was her boyfriend,” the second detective suggested.
“No! He was—he was in his forties and ugly.” The doctor raised one of his eyebrows and she hastily said, “I don’t mean ugly as in not handsome. I mean…not nice.” She swallowed and rubbed her throat. Then she whispered, “Emily is only nineteen. She’s so sweet, so gentle. She wouldn’t have anything in common with this man.”
The doctor got up to sit on the arm of her chair. “Lean back and breathe deeply, Liza. You’re getting all tensed up again. And don’t talk so much.”
She did as he asked and closed her eyes. His closeness helped her to take a deep breath. Strange how quickly she’d come to rely on him.
“We’ll try to wrap this up quickly, Ms. Colton. We checked on the messages you’ve received here. One from your mother and another from a Mrs. Tremble. Can you tell me what they had to say?”
Nick felt the tension rise again in her. He quickly said, “If you don’t mind me explaining, officers, to save my patient’s throat, I spoke to her mother last night after she left the message here. Her mother is also her manager and she was concerned about Liza’s schedule. There was no mention of Liza’s cousin.”
“And Mrs. Tremble?”
“I don’t know who the woman is, but I can assure you Liza hasn’t spoken to her. She spent the night in the hospital and received no calls. I’ve been with her since.”
“Ms. Colton, if you could just—”
“Housekeeper,” she said, her voice raspy again.
“And have you returned her call?” Ramsey asked.
She shook her head and pointed to her throat.
“Oh, that’s right. Besides, she said she’d call today, didn’t she?”
Liza nodded again but didn’t try to speak.
“Is that all the questions, gentlemen?” Nick intervened. “I’d like her to save her voice to describe the man for the sketch artist.”
“Yes, of course. What’s wrong with Ms. Colton’s throat?”
Nick looked at Liza, knowing he could refuse to say anything, but he feared to do so might make the men suspicious. And he had figured out that Liza was hiding something. “It’s a combination of a slight infection and exhaustion. It seems she gave up eating or sleeping once she was told about her cousin’s disappearance. She’s been very concerned. It doesn’t take the body long to deteriorate under those conditions.”
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the artist. Nick opened the door and invited him in. The two detectives, after greeting the man, picked up their cups of coffee and moved to the window to talk quietly.
Nick returned to the arm of Liza’s chair. Her welcoming smile warmed his heart. She wanted him close. He reached for her glass of milk. “Take a drink before you try to speak again,” he suggested.
She took the glass from him and took a long drink. Then she greeted the artist.
With gentle, perceptive questions, the artist drew Liza out as she described the man. Nick helped, since he’d also seen him. When the artist finished and held up the resulting sketch, both Nick and Liza agreed that he’d done a good job of drawing the man.
The two detectives came back to stand behind the sofa and look at the sketch.
“Do you recognize him?” Liza asked. When she looked at the sketch she gulped, her eyes wide with fear. The drawing was dead-on: a big, burly man with a full head of coal-black hair.
Nick reached for her hand and held it against his thigh. “Rest, Liza. Your throat is sounding worse again.”
“No, ma’am, but he looks like a rough character, like an out-of-shape ex-fighter. He’d be pretty noticeable here in Saratoga Springs. We’ll see if we can pick up a trace of him. I suspect he bribed one of the employees downstairs to give him your location. The doctor said he only told the hotel, with a warning not to let out the information, and the Music Hall people, with the same warning.”
She nodded.
They sent the artist back to the station, with a request that he only show the sketch to the chief.
After he’d left, Ramsey sat back down on the sofa. “Now, Ms. Colton, what are your plans? Are you leaving the city?”
The lost look on her face bothered Nick. He wanted to pull her into his arms and promise to keep her safe. A ridiculous thought! He had nothing to do with Liza Colton, popular singer. She probably had tons of people to keep her safe.
Like her mother? he wondered derisively. That woman wouldn’t waste of moment of concern for her own daughter.
“I…don’t know. Doctor—”
Nick took over. “My patient isn’t well enough to travel yet. She’ll stay in town for another day or two, I’m sure. But we’ll let you know when she returns to New York City.”
“You have a place there?” the detective asked.
She nodded. Then she added, “An apartment.”
“Is that where Mrs. Tremble is?”
Nick felt her tense again. That name had set off her tension the last time.
“California,” she whispered.
“Well,
