Free Stolen Secrets by Nancy Radke Page A

to your right, down that hall.”
    Robyn and Alison left to go to Mary’s room, but Angie stayed with Ryan. He turned to the nurse. “Does anyone know just what happened to Warren?” he asked.
    The nurse pointed to the lounge area to the left of the entrance. “The tall man over in the corner came in with him. He may know.”
    “Thank you,” Ryan said. He and Angie walked over to the white-haired man slumped in a chair, staring vacantly at the wall. The man ignored the overhead TV as well as two children struggling over a toy. He looked to be in his late fifties, dressed in casual winter clothing, a ski parka lying across one knee, part of it stained black with dried blood.
    “You with Warren Brown?” Ryan asked.
    The man lifted his head, his face reflecting shock. “Yes.”
    “Ryan Duvall. I’m a friend.”
    “George Patterson. I’ve known Warren for years. He had lots of friends.” His gaze wandered past Ryan to Angie, then returned, his focus becoming sharper. “You bring Mary?”
    “Yes.”
    “How is she?” He sounded concerned, so he must’ve known about Mary’s past.
    “Not good. She’s on the point of collapse. Was Warren with you?”
    “Sort of. Warren walked into my store during a robbery. I couldn’t stop anything. It all happened too fast.”
    A uniformed policeman stopped at the nurses’ station, spoke to the nurse a moment, then entered the waiting room.
    “You folks with Warren Brown?”
    “Yes.” Ryan and Patterson both spoke.
    “We got the man who shot him— ”
    “Good,” Ryan said. He hated when “perps" got away, leaving their victims unable to gain the satisfaction of seeing them pay.
    “Not good for him.” The young policeman looked at the notebook in his hand. “George Patterson?”
    “That’s me.”
    “I’m Officer Ken Granger.” They shook hands. “Your description of the car was perfect. We spotted them right away. They went off an overpass at sixty miles per hour. Killed the passenger. The driver got away.”
    “Do you know who they were?” Ryan asked.
    “Just the one. Ted Fairweather. Ever hear of him?”
    Nodding to himself, Ryan started to speak, but Angie beat him to it.
    “I have,” she said. “I mean,” she faltered, as all three looked at her, “I mean, I... I might have. Then again I might not. The first name. Ted. It’s the name Patti used on the phone. That’s all.”
    Ryan wondered why she had jumped on the name so quickly. Had she remembered Patti talking about Ted, so was willing to involve him as a cover-up? Especially with him dead?
    “Are you sure?” he asked, watching her closely.
    “Yes. Do you think they’re connected?”
    “Highly unlikely. Computer thieves don’t steal jewelry. They stick to what they know.” And that was a fact. No question about it. The two robberies had nothing in common.
    “What’s this all about?” Officer Granger asked.
    “My office was robbed this week,” Ryan said. “Angie, here, saw them. Probably no connection.”
    “If it’s the same men, they may have been desperate for cash. Could you identify them?”
    “Just their shoes,” Angie said. “That’s all I saw. They were only a few inches from my face, so I got a pretty good look. And I worked for a shoe store for awhile, so I’m used to sizing them up.”
    “We’ve got the body downstairs, at the ME— the Medical Examiner’s. We’ll take a look at those shoes— on the off-chance there is a connection— as soon as I get some details from Mr. Patterson.”
    “Sure.”
    He turned to George. “You’re the owner of the store?”
    “Yes.”
    “Tell me what happened.”
    “First of all, they couldn’t have planned it.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Well, you see, my shop was closed. I didn’t figure on any sales, what with the heavy snow. You know how that is.”
    The policeman nodded.
    “Warren called me at home— we’ve been friends for years, you see— and asked if he could run down and shop privately. He