Page 24 of Her Last Promise

Novak chuckled and said, “You know…I have no problem believing that.”

The yard in front of the house was bare except for a few patches of yellowed grass and a single plastic candy cane stuck crookedly into the ground near the front door.The solitary decoration seemed more depressing than festive, like a half-hearted nod to normalcy in the midst of crisis.The windows were dark despite the growing dusk, but a battered Honda Civic sat in the driveway, its silver paint oxidized to a dull gray.

A cold wind whipped down the street, rattling the bare branches of a maple tree and sending an empty Amazon box tumbling across a nearby lawn.Rachel zipped her coat higher and checked her weapon out of habit before stepping out of the car.The wind had picked up, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from a nearby chimney mixed with the metallic tang of the sleet she’d seen in the forecast yesterday.

When they came to the door, Novak knocked, the sound sharp in the winter quiet.For a long moment, there was nothing.Then came the shuffle of feet, and the door opened to reveal an older woman with silver-streaked hair pulled back in a loose bun.She wore a cardigan that had seen better days, its elbows worn thin, and reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck.The scent of chamomile tea and something baking – cookies, maybe – wafted out from behind her.

"Yes?"she asked, eyes darting between them.Her fingers clutched the edge of the door, knuckles white.

Rachel held up her credentials, the gold badge catching the last rays of sunlight."I'm Special Agent Gift with the FBI, and this is Special Agent Novak.We're looking for Nathan Mitchell."

The woman's expression shifted from wariness to confusion, then to something approaching fear.Her grip on the door loosened slightly, and she took a small step back."The FBI?I...well, Nathan isn't here right now.I'm his aunt, Tanya Beswick."She hesitated, then added, "Marjorie's sister."Her voice caught slightly on the name.

"May we come in, Ms.Beswick?"Rachel asked."We have some questions about Nathan."She kept her tone gentle, professional, though her instincts were already cataloging Tanya's reactions, filing away the slight tremor in her hands, the way her eyes kept darting past them to the street.

Tanya's fingers worried at the hem of her cardigan, a nervous gesture that reminded Rachel painfully of her own grandmother."I suppose...though I don't understand what the FBI would want with Nathan.He's done nothing wrong."She stepped back, allowing them into a living room that smelled of tea and what Rachel was nowcertainwas cookies.A gingerbread-scented candle also burned on the small coffee table in the living room.

Family photos crowded the walls – many featuring a woman Rachel assumed was Marjorie Mitchell in healthier days.The images tracked a life in reverse: a smiling woman in a garden, arms full of flowers; the same woman at what appeared to be someone’s college graduation—perhaps Nathan’s; a younger version teaching a small boy to ride a bike.A half-finished puzzle occupied the coffee table, its edge pieces carefully sorted, and a medical journal lay open on the arm of a well-worn recliner, its pages marked with colored sticky notes.

“So, whereisNathan?”Novak asked.

"Nathan's been at the hospital," Tanya said, perching on the edge of the sofa.A throw blanket was folded neatly over its back, the kind of homey touch that spoke of someone trying to make a space more comfortable during a long vigil."He practically lives there now, wanting to always be with his mother.He only comes home to sleep, and sometimes not even then.I have to remind him to eat most days."

"How has he been handling the situation with the hospital?"Rachel asked, noting the slight tremor in Tanya's hands as she adjusted her glasses.A teacup sat cooling on the side table, a lipstick stain marking its rim.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose.He's...beaten down.Sad."Tanya's voice wavered, and she clasped her hands tightly in her lap."They're trying to sue him, you know.His own mother's hospital, suing him for trying to keep her alive.It's unconscionable."Anger flashed briefly across her features, surprising in its intensity.

Rachel didn't say as much, but Tanya was conveniently leaving out some of the details she and Novak had seen in James Harrison's case files…about how Nathan was doing everything he could to drag the hospital's name and reputation through the mud.

“Can you explain the disagreement he’s been having with the hospital?”Rachel asked.

“Well, the doctors are sure that they can bring her out of her coma…that she’ll be fine with some recovery.But Nathan is trying to tell them that she would never want to be hooked up to machines and life support.I agree with him, of course…but there is no official documentation to actually tell is what Marjorie’s wishes are.”

It was basically what the statements back at Harrison’s office had spelled out…just a much cleaner and slightly biased version of it.

"Do you know where Nathan was last night?"Novak asked, his pen poised over his notepad.“I assume he has to abide by the hospital’s visiting hours, right?”

Tanya frowned, her fingers now plucking at an invisible thread on her sleeve."That’s right.I assume he was here.He usually comes home after visiting hours."She glanced between them again, anxiety creeping into her features."Though I...I go to bed early.The days are long, you understand, and at my age..."She trailed off, then added quickly, "I've been staying here these past six weeks – came for tea one afternoon and never really left.Nathan needed the help, you see.He's dealing with so much because of this hospital ordeal."

“Have you seen any changes in him?”Rachel asked.“Any mood swings or maybe uncharacteristic behaviors?”

She shrugged and said, “He’s been tired a lot lately.Quiet…which was never really like him.But this hospital and his mother…it’s drained him.”

“Would you happen to know if he has reached out to either Judge Smith or an attorney by the name of James Harrison in the past few weeks?”

"Oh, I have no idea.I'm so sorry.But I…can I ask what it is you think he's done?Did the damned hospital get the federal government involved in this?"

“No, ma’am,” Novak assured her.“Nothing like that.”

Rachel exchanged a look with Novak, seeing her own thoughts reflected in his expression."Thank you for your time, Ms.Beswick.We'll head to the hospital to speak with Nathan."

Tanya nodded and got up to usher them to the front door.She looked nervous now, almost sad.“Is he…is Nathan going to be okay?”she asked.“Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“We don’t know just yet,” Rachel said, even though she was starting to feel like Nathan Marshall might indeed be in quite a bit of trouble.“But for right now, there’s nothing to worry about.Thanks again.”

They stepped back out into the chill less than five minutes after Tanya had invited them inside.Back in the car, Rachel turned the key but didn't put the vehicle in drive.The engine's rumble seemed too loud in the quiet street."She can't confirm his whereabouts last night.That puts him in play for Harrison's abduction."

Novak was already pulling out his phone, his fingers moving quickly over the screen."I'll call ahead, have security make sure he doesn't leave before we get there."He paused, then added, "You really think he could be our guy?"

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