“You matter,” Morgan said, “and if I’m not mistaken, help has arrived. Can you walk?”
“With help. I busted my ankle the last time Lester tried to kill me.”
He helped her up and swung her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. “He won’t bother you again.”
Chapter 53
“Where am I?” Wyatt’s gaze flitted from the scowling nurse to his ashen-faced brother. They were keeping something from him.
Why couldn’t he remember?
Why was his head pounding?
He struggled to sit up, the room spinning. His stomach lurched. If he threw up, Virg would never let him hear the end of it. He sank back into the hospital bed.
His head felt too tight.
Gingerly, he touched a thick bandage.
Recoiled.
“What happened?” he asked.
Virgil stepped closer, his expression grim. “You’re in the hospital in Savannah. You hurt your head, but you’re all patched up now.”
An IV tube ran clear liquid into his arm. A hospital gown covered his front. He wiggled enough to know he was bare-assed under the covers.
So much for making a run for it.
Outside his window, the sun was shining. Wyatt tried to grasp the timeline.
Couldn’t.
He caught his brother’s hand. “Virg, I need answers.”
“You’ve got six staples in your head and about two dozen stitches. You lost a lot of blood. Mom. Allie. Me. We all gave blood last night to save your sorry hide. You’re grounded, buddy. No more saving the world from arsonists until you’re healed.”
Blood transfusions. Staples. Stitches. He tried to piece the fragments of his memory together. He’d shot Lester. Swam to shore with Laurie Ann. Everything else—
A firehose of dread shot through him. “Laurie Ann.” His voice broke. “Did Lester—”
No. He couldn’t even give voice to his fear for her safety.
“She’s fine,” his brother said. “Chill out a minute. This sweet nurse needs to take your vital signs and ask some questions.”
“Is Laurie Ann hurt?” Wyatt asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Virg shook his head and waved the nurse forward. Wyatt clung to a thread of patience during the poking and prodding, but it cost him. When asked, he couldn’t remember the date, but knew his name. He wanted to growl at the nurse.
The pounding in his head intensified. He ignored it. The nurse instructed him how to self-administer the pain medication.
Finally, she left.
“Tell me,” Wyatt said.
“They took her to another hospital. One south of Mossy Bog, in Brunswick. The two of you went through hell yesterday. You nearly died. Take a deep breath. You’re both okay.”
Wyatt tried to sit up again. Couldn’t. “I want to talk to her.”
“In time. There are two GBI agents in the hall waiting to talk to you. The whole family’s out there. Even Aunt Barbara with her Secret Service contingent.”
State cops. Feds. Aunt Barbara. Wyatt groaned.
“Understood. No good deed goes unpunished.” Virg’s eyes filled with sympathy. “The cops get ten minutes with you. The family another five or so before the nurse makes us leave the room. Mom and the girls are crying their eyes out, but I knew it would take more than an arsonist to kill you. Family first, then I’ll get Laurie Ann on the phone.”
Virg went to the door, waved two suited guys in, and stepped into the hall.
Wyatt recognized Colin Peters from a previous case, knew the dour, hatchet-faced Manny Shalvis by reputation only. Colin asked for permission to tape his statement. Wyatt approved the request for the record, relieved Manny would be in observational mode and his friend would conduct the interview.
He gave his statement. Afterward, Colin asked about his notes and sketches. “Kept everything in my truck. Computer. Briefcase. It should all be there. I can send it to you as soon as I get out of here this afternoon.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Colin said. “At your family’s request, your truck was towed to Savannah. We have your permission to search it?”
“You do. I’ve nothing to hide.”
“And the weapon you shot Lester Church with? Where is it?”
“Last time I saw the gun, it was in Pete Dinterman’s speedboat. Guess it’s on the ocean floor now.”
“We’ve got divers looking for the wreckage. Do you know the GPS coordinates of your last location?”
“Lester disabled the systems on the boat. All I know is I finally caught the sonuvabitch that killed my partner.”
“You shot him.”
“In self-defense. He was shooting at us, and oh yeah, he tried to torch us too.”
Another nurse, this one a tall brunette, cleared her throat in the doorway. Colin switched off the recorder and packed it away. “Your boss said to tell you to take some time. A week off, mandatory. We’ll be in touch with more questions.”
Next, the family swarmed in and cried all over the room, all over him. Wyatt gazed helplessly at Virg, who shrugged. Wyatt repeatedly jabbed the pain med button to soften the shrill female voices lancing his tender brain.
“You gave us a bad scare, son,” his mom said. “Never do that again. My heart can’t take it. Please come home with us until you’re fit again.”
“I will,” he said.
“You are never doing this to me again,” Allie said, tears glistening in her eyes. “You owe me an appearance at my birthday party, or I want my blood back.”
“Thanks for the blood. I’ll be there for your party.”
Virginia grabbed hold of Wyatt’s right hand and bawled.
His brother Morgan clapped him on the left shoulder. “Clanton and dad are still in Alaska or they’d be here, too. They said to quit scaring the bejesus out of the family.”
“You’re a national hero,” Aunt Barbara said. “I’m making sure your boss knows just how brave you are.”
Wyatt’s boss wouldn’t like that one bit. He’d already lost a few skirmishes with Aunt Barbara. “I was doing my job. Please don’t say anything to Granger.”
“You need a different job,” his aunt said tartly. “One that doesn’t put you in harm’s way.”
A warm glow spread through him. The meds were kicking in. Finally.
He made eye contact with his family members. “I love you all. But my head hurts.”
“Time to go,” Virg said, prying Virigina off Wyatt’s hand. “You can see him again later this afternoon.”
Blessed silence descended on the room. Between the pain meds and the thought of hearing Laurie Ann’s voice, Wyatt felt all jittery inside. “Phone call.”
“Maybe you should wait a bit. Wouldn’t want the gal to think you’re zoned out on drugs.”
He grinned. “I am feeling no pain, and it feels good.”
Virgil reached into the plastic bag near the bed and held up a bit of tarnished silver on a chain. “This was in your pocket.”
Laurie Ann’s lucky medallion. Her most precious possession. His breath caught in his throat. “Give it to me.”
“What is it?”
His fingers closed around the necklace. “My lifeline.”
Chapter 54
An orderly wheeled Laurie Ann out of Radiology. She’d been up all night with the GBI, Chief Tyler, Sheriff Parnell, and her dad. When they’d wrung every bit of information out of her, she’d stood up to leave and fell flat on her face.
That prompted a trip to the nearest ER, which was south of Mossy Bog. Not north to Savannah where Wyatt was. She wanted to see him. Needed to see him. Status reports on him throughout the night assured her his stable condition was unchanged, but a report wasn’t the same thing as seeing him in person.
Had Wyatt even heard her declare her love? He’d been so still, and she’d been upset about his injury. She’d wanted to reassure him, to encourage him to stay conscious. She wanted him to know how she felt about him.
Josh Calucci strode toward her. “There you are. Thought they’d hold you hostage in X-ray forever.”
She blinked at the phone in his outstretched hand. “What’s that?”
“Phone call for you.”
She took his phone. “Hello?”
“You don’t know me, Laurie Ann,” a man with a deep voice said. “I’m Virgil, Wyatt’s brother.”
“How is he?”
“Very tired and heavily medicated, but he won’t go back to sleep without talking to you. Here he is.”
“Heyyyy. You okay?”
The sterile corridor and the soft-soled shoes of the people hurrying by faded into whiteness. “Fine.” Laurie Ann warmed at the sound of his voice. “Wyatt. I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you to Savannah. Are you all right?”
“Swimming. No, not swimming. Resting. That’s it. Resting up...to face my...family again. They’re all...freaked out.”
They weren’t the only ones. He’d been on her mind nonstop. “I’ve been getting updates on you all night. You talk to the GBI?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. But I’m in a hospital an hour and a half away. My boss made me get my ankle checked out. Just a sprain, like I thought. I’ve got to get some sleep, but I can drive up there to see you this afternoon.”
His voice deepened. “You know my bed’s always open.”
Laurie Ann felt heat steam off her cheeks. She couldn’t talk about beds, not with Josh and the orderly soaking in her every word. Nor could she bring herself to say “I love you” in front of an audience. Drat. “We did it. We caught your serial arsonist.”
“We did.”
His words slurred, and her heart panged. Poor guy. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I...got the thing.”
“The thing?”
“Med...med...medallion. I have it. Yours.”
She glowed inside. “You needed it.”
“Yours,” he repeated.
She heard a skirmish, then a man’s voice came on the line. “That’s it for now. He can’t keep his eyes open. He’ll call again later.”
Virgil. “Thank you.”
She handed the phone back to Calucci. “Thanks.” She endured another hour of waiting and red tape before they let her leave the ER. She sank into the seat of Calucci’s squad car, her thoughts heavy, her weariness bone-deep.
“Take me home,” she said.
Wait. She didn’t have a home. Her breath hitched. Lester had burned it to the ground. Her beautiful home. All her grandmother’s pretty things, gone. Her lovely garden, incinerated.
“Take me to my dad’s,” she amended in a shaky voice.
Lester had nearly erased her entire existence. Nearly. She clung to that word. She was still here. Still kicking. Still doing what she loved best. Catching bad guys. Helping people.
God, she was so tired.
Tears blurred her vision, fracturing the approaching headlights into myriad starbursts of light. She gripped the armrest, determined not to lose it in front of Calucci. She was a cop. She was tough.
So tough she wanted to go home and curl up in bed and cry her eyes out.
****
The sun was low in the western sky when she awakened. After a moment of disorientation, she recognized the utilitarian furniture of her father’s guest room. She grabbed the crutches and limped outside to where her dad sat reading on the patio, her pets at his feet.
“There you are.” Her father set the book aside. Gabby bounded over on his three short legs, wriggling and yapping with joy. Pumpkin meowed and curled her furry tail around Laurie Ann’s legs. She bent to greet them, arose, and melted into her father’s arms.
“Here I am.” Darn. There were those tears again. She clung to her dad for a bit and felt like a little girl all over again. Safe. Protected. She stood there, holding on for all she was worth, until her breathing evened out, then hobbled to the adjacent chair, sat, and dashed the moisture from her cheeks. “Sorry. I woke up weepy.”
“It’s okay. You haven’t done that since you were a kid. You went through a lot these past few days. More death and destruction than I ever saw on the beat. It’ll take awhile to get your head back in the game.”
She nodded, but his sympathetic expression and compassionate voice brought a sob to her throat. Horrified, she stuffed her fist in her mouth.
“Let it out, hon,” her dad said. “I taught you to shake off an injury, to not let it get the best of you, but this is the exception to that rule. You need time to process what happened.”
“I’m fine, Dad.”
He shook his head. “I knew a cop in Richmond Hill who ate his gun.” He raised a hand to forestall her reply. “I’m not saying you would ever do that, but this guy was always Mr. Tough Guy. Sam rolled with every punch. If there was a horrific accident or a shooting, he was right there in the thick of it, and then back at work bright and early the next day. His marriage washed out, and he still rolled with it. After his wife moved to California with the kids, he changed, started making bad decisions on the job. He let a speeder off with a warning and ten minutes later, the speeder crashed into a school bus, killing five kids. Sam didn’t say a word to anybody. Just went home and pulled the trigger.”
Laurie Ann sniffed back her tears. “That’s awful.”
“It was. For everyone. And it didn’t have to happen.”
“Lucky me, I don’t own a gun anymore. And your shotgun is in the sound somewhere. I’m really sorry about your boat, Dad.”
“The guns, the boat, they don’t matter to me. You do. I’ve never been more proud of you in my life. Your chief and the sheriff stopped by earlier this afternoon. They think the world of you.”
Her dad’s gaze faltered, tipping her off.
“What?”
“They want you to take some time off.”
Her raw emotions took another death-defying plunge. “I can’t. We’re shorthanded. And I want to work.”
“Two weeks off. Mandatory. That’s the deal. Two weeks of absolutely no cop stuff, and then you report back to work.”
Two weeks was a lifetime. Worse, that detective test she’d signed up for was in that timeframe.
“You can take the test next time around,” her dad said, as if he’d read her mind. “Now isn’t the time to be studying and worrying about that promotion. Chief Tyler and Sheriff Parnell understand what’s at stake. They want you to be rock solid, to be a cop in Mossy Bog for as long as you want to be a cop. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say how concerned they are. How concerned the entire community is. Hell, I ran out of space in the refrigerator hours ago. Food’s been coming in here like nobody’s business. Speaking of which, are you hungry?”
No detective exam. Where was her disappointment? Why did she feel better? Shouldn’t she feel worse? Nothing made sense any more. What the heck would she do with herself for two weeks?