A Memory Worth Dying For (33 page)

Confusion laced her thoughts even as she saw a blurry Daniel push back into the burning inferno.

No, Daniel. Go back. Save yourself
.

She was so sleepy. She lay her head down on the floor and prayed. Lack of oxygen made her dizzy, and without being able to stop it, the world around her slipped away.

SIXTY-FIVE

DANIEL STOOD UP AS HIS
father came out of the examining room at the emergency wing of the hospital. Gerald was walking on crutches, and a furrow creased his brow.

“Are you all right, Dad?”

“The doctor said it’s not broken, just severely bruised. Have you heard anything from Marti yet?”

“Not yet. The nurse said the doctor’s still with her.”

“Did she ever wake up?”

Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know. They had her in the ambulance before I could find out.”

“What did she look like when you pulled her out? Was she conscious? Was she still breathing?”

“Yes, Dad, she was still breathing but unconscious. She was pale, but the nurse seems to think she will be okay. She said the oxygen levels in her blood are good, but they want to do more blood tests and a chest x-ray to make sure there’s no lung damage.”

The double doors of the emergency room exit swooshed open. Brent Simmons walked in. He saw Gerald and Daniel in the corner and headed toward them. Then the doors opened again, and Shane Duke hurried in. Both men joined them in the corner.

“How’s Marti?” Shane asked. Concern wrinkled his brows.

“The nurse seems to think she’s going to be okay.”

“Great. That’s good news.”

Gerald blew out a breath of relief. “Thank the Lord you got there in time, Daniel.”

Daniel nodded. “I wouldn’t have known about it at all if you hadn’t told me, Dad. How in the world did you know?”

“I overheard somebody talking in the stable. Max was feeding hay, and I was the only one there. Whoever it was came looking for gas cans. At first I thought it was you, Daniel, but when I heard him say something about a woman being tied up and unable to get loose, I knew it wasn’t. He also said something about starting a fire where she couldn’t get out, and I had a gut feeling they were talking about Marti. I got worried, and in my haste to get help, I knocked over the supply shelf right on top of myself.”

Shane leaned forward. “Who was it talking in the barn? Do you know?”

Gerald shook his head. “No. The voice was too muffled.”

Brent crossed his arms. “We’ve confirmed it was arson. Empty gas cans were spread all over the woods, and the county investigator said there’s no doubt the shed was doused with gasoline. We also found a body.”

Daniel stiffened. “What? Who?”

Brent nodded. “Jordan Welsh.”

“Jordan! I don’t believe it. Why was he even around that shed?”

“That, we don’t know, but it was probably him that tried to kill Marti. He had gas all over his clothes, and his fingerprints are on the gas cans. I guess the smoke got to him, and he died before he could get away.”

Shane crossed his arms. “Jordan Welsh. Do you think it had something to do with Marti’s accident? Vinny’s death hit him hard. After all, it was Marti’s fault.”

Brent cleared his throat and gave Gerald a strange look. “Could be. Hopefully we’ll know more after the investigation.”

Gerald leaned his crutches against a table and sat down.

“Could he have been the one stalking her?”

“Someone’s been stalking Marti?” Shane was surprised.

Daniel just nodded.

Shane sat down in the seat next to Gerald. “No kidding. Why?”

Gerald spoke up. “She doesn’t know why, Shane.”

“I doubt Jordan was the stalker,” Brent said. “He’s been too busy whipping Vinny’s ranch back into shape. We have a couple more suspects we’d like to talk to.” Brent said.

“Well, if he’s not the stalker, then don’t you think she still needs protection?”

“I do, Daniel, but you know we don’t have the manpower to provide protection round the clock. Especially since Jordan died, and we believe he’s the one who tried to kill her.”

Gerald spoke up in a firm voice. “If you can’t provide her protection, Brent, I’ll hire a bodyguard myself. Somebody’s got to protect the child.”

Shane leaned forward. “Gerald, my cousin Ralph is a bodyguard who’s looking for work. He has three kids, and I know he’d appreciate a job. He got laid off when his company was down-sized.”

“Thanks, Shane. That sounds like a good idea. Do you have the number?”

“It’s out in the truck. I’ll get it for you.”

Gerald stood up. “I’ll walk out with you. I need to exercise this leg before it gets so tight it won’t move at all.”

Brent shook hands with Daniel. “I’m gonna head back to the station. Daniel, if we can do anything, let us know. I’ll be in touch.”

Daniel nodded and watched the three men step through the automatic doors.

As soon as they left, a nurse came around the corner. “Mr. Rushing, you can go in and see Ms. Rushing now. She’s sedated, but she’s going to be fine.”

Daniel stood up quickly and followed the nurse. He glanced back at the emergency room doors as he walked by them. His dad would wonder where he was, but the nurses would tell him.

SIXTY-SIX

THE PHONE IN THE HOLDER
on his belt vibrated and filled the truck cab as Shane watched Gerald hobble back into the emergency room exit.

“Hello.”

“Would this be Shane Duke?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Agnes Miller. My husband used to be a nurse’s aide at the Marvel County Clinic with your wife.”

“Yes? What can I do for you, Mrs. Miller?”

“Well, sir, I always thought the world of your wife when my Geoffrey worked there with her. She was most kind and caring. That’s why I felt like I should give you warning. I’ve been questioned by the Carson City Police about what my husband told me concerning a death certificate your wife filled out three years ago.”

“A gift certificate?”

“No, sir. A death certificate. A young woman named Tommi Robbins had a baby who died, and Ms. Mary filled out the death certificate. My Geoffrey was there that night and came home telling me about how strange it was. He’d come home during his shift to check on me ’cause I had the flu with a high fever, and he was worried. When he returned to the clinic a couple of hours later, he said the baby was alive. Your wife told him she’d performed CPR and brought the child back to life.”

“Yes, I think I remember her mentioning that. We all thought it was a miracle.”

“Well, sir, I had to tell the police today what my husband told me about that night. My Geoffrey died about a year ago, but I remember how upset he was about that night. He said there was something suspicious about that baby’s miraculous recovery and about the baby itself.”

“What are you saying, Mrs. Miller? What do you mean,
suspicious
?”

“For one thing, the little tot that died had red hair—just like his mama. But the baby Mary insisted was Tommi’s baby had black hair—as black as soot. Geoff said he didn’t think too much about it at the time, because what with the uproar about the mama dying and fighting to keep the baby alive, he thought he was just mixed up. But after talking to the detective there in Carson yesterday, I’ve remembered a few other things he said too. Geoffrey said the baby that died was a tiny little thing—skinny and bony. And he was lethargic, like he was sleepy. Geoffrey said he never did cry out when he was born. The baby Mary had when he got back was chubby and full of life, and Geoffrey laughed about the strength of his lungs—they were good and healthy. When he got back to the clinic, that baby was squalling bloody murder while Mary was giving him a bath. Now, he didn’t know what made all them changes, but I thought it would only be fair to warn you about what I told the detectives—Ms. Mary being your wife and all.”

Silence reigned for the space of a full minute. “Are you saying that my Mary lied, Mrs. Miller?”

“No, sir. I’m saying I told the judge and the detective that there were unusual things my husband told me about that birth, that’s all. But, since it concerned your wife, and since I thought so much of her, I wanted you to know.”

“Thank you for calling, Mrs. Miller.”

Shane hung up the phone as if in a dream.

Suddenly his stomach churned, and sweat popped out on his forehead. All his hard work was about to unravel. This woman knew that Mary had switched babies.

And she had told a judge!

Flashbacks of that night filled his thoughts. Mary came home from the clinic the night of the accident with a baby in her arms. She said the mother had died, and Mary wanted to adopt the sweet little thing. He wasn’t too keen on raising another child so late in their lives, but Mary insisted for Veronica’s sake. Veronica had been to the doctor that week, and he’d told her she could never have children. It was devastating to both Veronica and Mary. He thought at the time that adopting the baby was Mary’s way of taking care of Veronica’s future.

Shane climbed out of the truck and lifted the back seat. He pulled out a scrapbook, sat back down behind the wheel and flipped through the pages. He stopped at a well-worn section of the book that contained newspaper clippings. Articles about the accident that killed Daniel’s sister filled several pages and brought back tender memories. Mary had been praised and called a hero for saving Marti’s life by delivering her baby after the accident.

Mary told Shane on her deathbed what she’d done—switching the babies while the aide went home to check on his sick wife. Mary tested the blood types, and they were a perfect match—both O negative. That way, if for some reason they took a blood sample of the dead baby, it would match Marti’s blood type as well.

Chris was Marti’s baby.

And this woman had told a judge?

That meant Daniel would find out Marti was his wife. Then Marti would take Chris away, and Daniel would want to be with his son. He would leave Veronica.

“No!” The agonized cry burst from his lips. “I won’t let it happen. Not again.”

Something had to be done and done right away. If the judge ruled that Chris be given back to his parents, Veronica would lose the chance of raising a child. Her not being able to have children was why Mary had done what she did.

Shane firmed his jaw and pounded his fist against the steering wheel. Marti was the problem. If Jordan had done his job like he’d told him to, everything would be okay. But Marti had been rescued. If she disappeared, Daniel would stay with Veronica, and they could raise Chris together. Marti was the one thing standing in the way of Veronica’s happiness.

SIXTY-SEVEN

DANIEL QUIETLY STEPPED THROUGH THE
curtains of the ICU and stopped just inside the partitioned room. The smells . . . the sounds . . . the slight figure of Marti lying in the bed hooked up to an IV tube and oxygen mask—it all circled around him like smoke from a campfire, smothering his thinking. His mind was blank until his emotions took over. Suddenly, he felt as if a door to the past had opened in his mind.

Sometime in the past, he had been here. Here in this room. Here beside an injured Marti—exactly like now. The memory was on the edge of his thoughts like the name of a person he was trying to remember but couldn’t.

He took a tentative step closer to the bed and stared down at Marti—the bruises on her face, the bandages on her arms. Her hands lay limp on the sheet.

Something around her neck caught his eye. A chain hung around her neck; at the edge of the hospital gown was a small wooden object. He stepped closer, and it became clear. A horse’s head.

He lifted his head quickly, and a cool feeling traveled across his face.

A wooden horse?

One more step brought him within two feet of Marti. He could see the horse clearly now. It had an emerald
embedded in the horse’s mane.

Then he knew. This horse was the missing horse from the set at the house.

He stared at the sunshine filtering into the room, dividing the wall into disorienting stripes. The memory of that horse—belonging to Marti—stirred a chord that had been dormant for months. Immediately, he was transported back in time. Back to another day, years ago. Back to a time he had forgotten until now. Instantly, the memories came flooding back, like horses running from a wildfire, and he couldn’t hold them captive any longer.

Marti was his wife.

No. Ex-wife.

He had been with her, here in this room, when the state patrol came and told him Angie had died and that Marti was responsible. Mary Duke had been here also, and the horrible things she had accused Marti of came crashing back into his thoughts. He remembered the anger—the feeling of humiliation and disgrace. While Marti lay in that bed unconscious, his faith, his trust, his love for her had died a quick death. Even the pull of his heart toward accepting Marti’s religion and her God suffered a beating as a result of those accusations. How could he accept her trust in God as real when she was totally a different person than the one he had fallen in love with and married? So . . . he had left an unconscious Marti to go to his mourning father.

It all made sense now. His father had brought Marti here with a purpose in mind.

Suddenly, all the air in his lungs escaped with a deep moan. Painful memories and accusations sucked the life from his being. He turned and stumbled down the hospital hall to the elevator. When the doors opened, his dad hobbled out on crutches. Gerald took one look at Daniel’s face and turned white.

“Daniel . . . is she—?”

“You knew all this time, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You knew she was my ex-wife. You brought her here . . . knowing how I felt about her when she left.” He stepped into the elevator.

Gerald touched Daniel’s arm. “Wait, son. Listen to me for a minute.”

“Why should I listen? You’ve done nothing but lie and hide the truth.” He waved off Gerald’s outstretched hand and pushed the elevator button.

“Daniel, wait! It wasn’t true. What we were told—”

The doors closed as Gerald’s sentence was left lingering in the air. Daniel’s heart hurt so that his legs could hardly hold him up.