A Grant County Collection (114 page)

There was a small explosion as part of the SUV ignited. Lena rolled to her knees, trying to crawl away from the vehicle before the whole thing went up. The smoke and heat were too much. She fell onto her side, wheezing. She could hear a noise that could not be human: high-pitched screeching. Charlotte. She was still alive, still conscious of the flames that were devouring her.

Lena rolled onto her stomach, knowing it was too late for Charlotte, that she should get as far away from the car as possible. She tried to move, but her body gave out on her. Suddenly, she was scooped up by the waist of her pants, dragged toward the bleachers. The car exploded again, so loud that it must have been the gas tank. She was flung into the stands, her head banging against the metal. The thud vibrated in her ears; the gas can tumbled down beside her.

Clint was on top of her, his face inches from hers. 'You still alive?'

Lena coughed, feeling like her lungs had been burned. She could barely breathe with him on top of her. 'Why?' she managed. 'Why are you doing this?'

He sat back on his knees, brushing debris off his arms and legs, looking at it like he had just come home from church and couldn't understand why he'd gotten so dirty.

'Why?' she insisted, her voice thick with grief.

In the light of the fire, she could see his face, the way he looked down at her with something like pity. 'I can't tell you anything, Lena. You'll have to ask Hank.'

Sara sat outside the Elawah County Hospital, the cold concrete of the bench penetrating her jeans. She was sick of hospitals, sick of the slow way everything moved in them. No wonder people were so furious at the healthcare industry. The tox screen, the blood work, the X-rays – everything had taken twice as long as it should have, and then a doctor had to be located, a pharmacist called in, a nurse found. All these slow machinations were designed specifically to cover everyone's ass in case a mistake was made; the wrong lab report delivered, the wrong drug administered, an incorrect diagnosis given. Meanwhile, the patient suffered in limbo. It was absolutely maddening.

The only saving grace was that Hank had not been aware of the wait; he had remained comatose during the short ride to the hospital and when they had triaged him in the ER and moved him to the ICU, not much about his condition had changed. Still, Sara did not hold out any great hope. His body was racked with infection. His heart was weakened from years of drug use and his lungs were showing mid-stage emphysema.

Sara's biggest concern was the burn marks around his wrists and feet. On first glance, they had seemed to match the other cuts and abrasions on Hank's body. Closer inspection proved that they were rope burns. She could tell from the sloping angle of the pattern on his wrists that his hands had been tied away from his body. His ankles had been bound together. What's more, he had been recently beaten. Two ribs were broken and there was a nasty bruise on his lower abdomen where someone had either punched or kicked him.

Surprisingly, the most immediate problem they'd had to deal with was drug withdrawal. For reasons of his own, Hank had stopped the meth cold turkey and his body's response had been to rebel completely. His organs were trying to shut down, to begin the cascade that would eventually lead to his death.

Working at Grady Hospital during her internship, Sara had seen her share of homeless addicts come through the emergency room doors. They were little more than the walking dead, their health so deteriorated that it was shocking that they were capable of standing upright. Pneumonia, hepatitis, scurvy, severe dehydration ... Years had passed since she'd worked with these hopeless souls, and she had been so shocked to see Hank's condition when she'd first seen him lying in his backyard that for a moment, she hadn't been able to act.

The only thing she had been able to do for him tonight was help process him through the system. As long as he remained stable through the night, he would be transferred to a larger hospital first thing in the morning.

A silver car turned into the parking lot. Sara's heart sank when she saw it wasn't her BMW. Jeffrey should be here any minute now, and she was anxious to see him. He had called Sara at the hospital and told her about searching Lena's hotel room, the phone call she had made to Coastal State Prison. According to the records, Lena had visited Ethan Green the same day the SUV was burned. There had to be a connection, but Jeffrey hadn't wanted to talk about it over the phone. He told her he would wait at the motel for the warden to call him back, then he would pick up Sara at the hospital.

She could tell just by listening to him that no matter what the warden said, Jeffrey had already decided to see Ethan for himself. He thought threats and intimidation would work on the con, but Sara knew better. Men like Ethan Green did not curl up into a ball when they were threatened. They coiled like rattlesnakes and prepared to attack.

Sara had made a pact with herself the night before that no matter what Jeffrey did, she was going to stand by him. After sixteen years, she knew that her husband was never going to see a person trapped in a burning building and sit back, leaving it to someone else to save them. Sara had to accept this facet of his personality and support his choice, because it was this goodness that had drawn her to him in the first place. It was against his nature to walk away.

The glass doors to the emergency room slid open and Fred Bart walked out, patting his pockets. 'Hey there, darlin',' he called, spotting Sara on the bench. He found his cigarettes, gave her a rueful grin and tucked them back in his pocket.

'Lost in your thoughts?' he asked, sitting beside her without waiting for an invitation. 'Looks like rain, don't it?'

Sara looked up at the night sky, realizing that he was right. 'Yes.'

'My sister's here.' He squared his shoulders, showed his straight, tiny teeth. 'I'm an uncle!' He bumped her on the shoulder, an overfamiliar gesture, but Sara didn't protest because he looked so happy.

'Your first?'

'Third!' he told her, exuberant. 'I guess you see little babies a lot what with being a pediatrician. Do you ever get over how teeny they are? I mean, just the teeniest things.'

'No,' Sara admitted, his happiness distracting her.

'You got any little ones in your life?'

'No.'

'Well, I highly recommend it,' he advised enthusiastically. 'I've got four ex-wives and no kids to speak of. Don't get me wrong, it's fun spoiling my sister's little darlin's, but it's not the same as having your own.' He stared out at the parking lot, his voice turning sad. 'Both my parents are gone. It's just me and Sissy now.'

Sara pressed her lips together, wondering when she had turned into Fred Bart's best friend.

He confided, 'Jake comes from a big family, though.'

'Oh?'

'Four older sisters. His baby brother, Tom, died here about six years ago. Overdose.'

'I didn't know.'

'Jake was awful tore up about it. I think that's why he joined the force in the first place. Then, he saw what was really going on, how nobody wanted to tackle the problem. He decided to run for sheriff so he could do something about it.'

Sara wondered if he expected her to take notes. Obviously, Fred Bart was trying to deliver a message to Jeffrey.
Jake's a good guy,
she thought.
Message received.

'Anyway,' Bart said, slapping his knees as he stood. 'You need a ride somewhere?'

'I'm waiting for my husband,' she told him, again wondering how much longer Jeffrey was going to be.

He gave her a wink. 'Lucky man.'

'I'll tell him you said so.'

'You do that now.' Bart flashed a smile, showing her his tiny, white teeth. He walked toward a green pickup truck, and Sara waved at him before going back inside.

Ignoring the dour woman behind the reception desk, Sara walked toward the alcove where they kept the snack machines. She was suddenly hungry enough to eat a horse. That was fitting, since horse by-products were pretty much a key ingredient in most of the snacks on offer.

Jeffrey's cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, saying by way of greeting, 'Where are you? I'm starving.'

The line was silent, and Sara was about to hang up when Lena said, 'It's me.'

Shock paralyzed Sara for a moment. Foolishly, she looked around, as if she expected Jake Valentine to suddenly appear out of the woodwork and snatch away the phone.

Lena asked, 'Where are you?'

'I'm at the hospital. With Hank.'

She didn't respond immediately. 'Is he okay?'

'No.' Sara looked for somewhere more private, but in the end decided it was best to stay put in case she lost the cell signal. 'We found him in his backyard. Someone tied him up, beat him. He was left there to die.'

'Maybe he wants to die.'

Sara could not believe the cold words she was hearing. 'Some people could argue you're doing the same thing,' she countered. 'Jeffrey knows about Ethan.'

'Ethan's not involved in this.'

'Do you really think Jeffrey is going to believe you? He's going to go to the prison tomorrow. I can't stop him. If anything happens, it's all on you. Do you hear me? It's all on you.'

'Tell him ...' Lena began. 'Tell him I went to tell Ethan that I had an abortion.'

Sara felt her mouth open in surprise.

'It would've been born by now,' Lena said, her voice a scratchy whisper. 'Maybe you and Jeffrey could have raised it.'

Sara leaned against the vending machine, feeling as if she had been stabbed in the stomach.

Lena kept talking. 'I know you can't have kids, Sara. Doesn't it piss you off to know what I did? Doesn't it make you angry that I got pregnant when I wasn't even trying?'

Tears came to Sara's eyes. She shouldn't have started this game because she didn't have the heart to play it.

'Hank took me to the clinic,' Lena continued. 'They put this metal thing inside of me, and they cut it out.'

Sara begged, 'Please stop.'

'I wonder what it looked like when they took it out,' she asked. 'You must know what it looked like, right? You're a doctor. You deal with babies all the time.'

Sara felt the tears come. 'How can you be so awful?'

'Tell Jeffrey everything I've said,' Lena instructed. 'Tell him that everything you've ever thought or said about me is true, Sara. I'm not a good person. I'm not worth saving. Go home. Take Jeffrey with you and go home.'

'I know what you're trying to do.' Sara wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, angry at the manipulation. She wasn't going to be Lena's unwitting accomplice again. 'It's not going to work. You're not going to rope me in.'

'I don't want to,' Lena told her. 'I don't want you here. I don't want Jeffrey here. If Hank lives or dies, I don't care. I just want you both to go back home and forget I ever existed.'

Sara demanded, 'Are you still trying to play me, Lena? I'm not on your level. I don't know how these games work.'

Lena was quiet. Sara strained to hear if there was any background noise, anything that might give away Lena's location. All she heard was a whimpering, almost like a wounded animal. It was Lena. She was crying.

Sara made her voice firm, tried to take charge. 'Where are you? Let us come get you.'

She didn't answer, just kept crying.

'This has gone on long enough. You need to let us come find you.'

'Did you see her?'

'See—'

Lena began to sob. 'The ... woman ... the one in the car.'

Sara tasted the same stench in the back of her throat as she had when she'd performed the autopsy.

'Did you take care of her?'

'Yes,' Sara said. 'Of course I took care of her.'

'She suffered.'

'I know.'

'She suffered, and it was all because of me.'

'Who was she?'

'She was somebody's mother,' Lena cried. 'Somebody's wife. Somebody's friend.' Her voice caught. 'She was somebody's lover.'

'Why are you doing this?'

'Because it's what I deserve! You were right. Everything I touch turns to shit. Get out of here before it's too late.'

'Too late for what?'

'Do you want the same thing to happen to Jeffrey?'

'What do you—'

'Just get out!' she screamed, cutting the line.

Sara held the phone to her chest, unable to move, her heart pounding. Jeffrey. She was scared that something – someone – would get to Jeffrey. In a split second, Sara's mind conjured up the autopsy she'd done on the burned woman, only this time, she saw Jeffrey on the table, Jeffrey burned. Tears came into her eyes. She shook uncontrollably.

'Dr. Linton?' Don Cook asked. He was wearing his deputy's uniform. His hat was in his hand.

'Yes,' she answered, trying to compose herself, wondering how long the man had been standing there.

'You all right?'

'Yes,' she told him, willing her voice not to shake. She closed her eyes for a moment, tried to clear her head of the awful image.

'I'm Don Cook. We met the other night?' He waited for her to nod. 'Your husband asked me to come fetch you and take you to the jail.'

She stared at him, skeptical. 'He didn't call to tell me.'

The man shrugged. 'I was just told to take you to the jail. Jake and your husband are there waiting for you.'

She indicated the phone in her hand. 'Let me just call him first.'

'All right.' He stepped back into the lobby, giving her some privacy.

Sara looked at Jeffrey's phone, wondering what to do. Being a Luddite had once been a source of pride, but now she felt like a backward fool. She knew that Jeffrey's phone stored numbers, but wasn't sure whether or not dialing out would erase the last phone number received. If Lena had called from a traceable line, using the phone might erase it.

Cook poked his head from around the corner. 'Everything all right?'

'I left a message on his cell phone,' she lied.

'Good. Ready?'

Sara nodded. He swept his deputy's hat in the direction of the exit, indicating she should go ahead of him. Outside, she saw the ambulance parked in the bay. The paramedics who had driven Hank to the hospital were leaning against the wall, smoking. They saw Sara and gave her a friendly wave.

Cook's cruiser was parked in a handicapped space, and he walked around to open the passenger-side door for her. The seat was filled with crumpled bags of junk food and several cans of Diet Coke.

'Sorry for the mess. You mind getting in the back?'

Sara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She was either being really paranoid or really smart. 'Do you mind if I get a ride in the ambulance?' She saw his surprised look and tried one of her more winning smiles. 'I'll just go with them.'

The ride was quickly negotiated with the paramedics. Sara had made their job a lot easier on the short trip to the hospital and the two men were more than willing to return the favor. Besides, the jail was only three minutes away. Sara felt silly as she rode between the burly paramedics, but she had learned a long time ago to listen to her instincts.

Don Cook was pulling into the parking lot as the ambulance pulled away. He scowled as Sara waved at the departing paramedics.

He got out of his car, mumbling, 'Car's not that dirty.'

Sara suppressed the urge to apologize. Instead, she followed him silently into the building.

'Sheriff's office is up there,' he told her, indicating a set of stairs. 'Unless you want someone else to tell you where it is.'

'No, thank you.' Sara took the stairs, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She heard children talking as she climbed. In the lobby, three young faces looked up at her from their coloring books. They were on the floor, their legs splayed, faces intent, as they worked their crayons. A teenage girl was on the other side of the room. Her sullen posture indicated she was not pleased to be left in charge.