The Rescuer (6 page)

It hadn't been real. No, it hadn't been real-he'd inhaled too much powder. His hand shook as he turned up the music. Lights in front of his eyes-the highs always made lights dance in front of his eyes. He drove on.

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Jonathan was waiting for the soft knock on the hotel room door that came precisely at midnight. He opened it and stepped back to let Craig slip into the suite, frowning at the nervous way his friend rocked on his feet and looked behind him. "Something wrong?"

"I just heard the elevator."

"It's a hotel, Craig." Jonathan led the way into the sitting room. "Keep your voice down; she's asleep." He turned on a dim light. The jewelry was lined up on the side table: emerald earrings, a square-cut diamond ring, a bracelet and necklace with diamonds and emeralds set in gold. He had taken instant photographs of where Marie left the pieces around the suite so the replacements could be positioned where she remembered them. "Give me the stones."

Craig opened the briefcase and removed a box.

Jonathan laid the fakes beside the originals, comparing the pieces. Neil had made them in the last three months from photos Jonathan had sent him. Neil had a great cover owning and running a profitable jewelry shop. He could do al kinds of custom work quietly on the side. "These wil work. I couldn't find her brooch, so you'l have to take that piece back." He returned the fake brooch to the case, then put the real gems into velvet pouches. "Tel Neil that taking al the pieces from a lady like this isn't worth the risk. She might not notice, but someone else bought them for her and he wil eventual y notice." If it had been his decision, he would have replaced only half the pieces with good quality fakes and left the others to help cover the theft.

"Neil wants to move to bigger but more infrequent thefts."

Jonathan looked at his friend. How could he be so naive? "Neil wil have me staking out marks in Europe and you flying over with replacement pieces, figuring if he steals in one country he can sel them sooner in another." The idea wasn't entirely 49

unappealing. He'd like the income, but they just needed to take more care in what they stole. Jonathan closed the box. "Where's my first payment?"

Craig handed over an envelope. "Ten thousand."

"Stay here." Jonathan took the fake pieces and picked up the pictures. He left the earrings on the end table next to Mane's glass with its stil -melting ice and carried the other pieces to the bedroom. He placed the ring on the bathroom counter next to the soap dish, the bracelet went on the bedside table, and the necklace inside the stil -open hotel room safe.

He had ensured that she was too occupied to spin the dial on the safe last night. Jonathan walked back into the living room with the pictures and gave them to Craig. "Burn them."

"I know the dril ." Craig stored the photographs in the briefcase.

"Don't even think about disappearing with those stones and resel ing them." Craig's gaze shot up to his.

Jonathan had gone to high school with Craig and he knew just how sticky his fnend's fingers were.

"Five thousand to be a courier is fine. I'l be in Silverton by morning. These stones- The last thing I want to do is hold hot rocks one second longer than I have to."

Jonathan glanced back to the bedroom. "She does come from a rather interesting family... Get going."

Stephen drove on the edge of what was safe for the current road conditions as he headed to the restaurant.

He had missed dinner; now he was late for midnight coffee. Paula understood about his job, but standing her up twice on the same night would stretch her patience too far.

The restaurant was one she had chosen near her home where apparently they had live music until 2 a.m.

on weekends. He

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picked up his street map again. He didn't know this area and had already gotten lost twice. "Go through the forest preserve and cross the one-way bridge. The restaurant is exactly one mile west on the left." Her directions could use some help. Go through the forest preserve-she didn't mention four miles of forest preserve snaked through this area.

He'd stumbled into a stretch of trees so thicfk that at times they blocked al light. Homes in this area must run half a mil ion dol ars. If the restaurant was priced for its address, this was going to be expensive coffee. He final y found a road going west and saw a sign marking the upcoming scenic bridge. He had to squint to read the words. It real y was one-way traffic. How old was this bridge? He waited for the flashing red lights to change and give him the right of way. He crossed the bridge as lightning cracked directly overhead.

A flash of white caught his eye.

He was done rescuing things. He was done... Stephen applied the brakes and backed up, peering through the rain. He'd seen something. Probably an animal. That was al he needed-a hurt animal putting him on pet patrol for the night. He lowered the window to see better.

It was the rear fender of a jeep. The vehicle was so far down into the gul y it was visible only with the lightning.

He turned on his hazard lights and stepped out into the downpour.

The muddy bank crumbled under Stephen as he worked his way down, grasping tree trunks to help stay upright. There was the sound of rushing water down below and a squishing sound as he picked up his feet.

His car headlights didn't shine much light downward leaving this area in dark shadows. He didn't dare risk using his flashlight until he reached the jeep for fear of dropping it.

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Something had sent the jeep into the gul y. Maybe a blown tire? So far he saw no signs that it had been struck from behind. His hand touched the bumper and Stephen leaned against the vehicle for balance, relieved to find it wedged into the ground so it wouldn't shift.

The jeep had been down here awhile. Leaves coated the vehicle and rainwater had fil ed the depressions on the roof. Stephen struggled the last few feet so he could lean in to see inside. His feet went out from under him and he grabbed the side mirror.

Meghan, what are you doing out here? He shoved the passenger door partial y open and squeezed himself into the seat to reach her. This road at this time of night- She must have been taking the back roads home.

She was leaning forward against the steering wheel and her seat belt was pul ed tight.

"Meghan, can you hear me?"

Her answer was slurred and unintel igible. He probed careful y but didn't find signs she had sustained an impact chest injury. The seat belt had done its job. He pushed aside part of a tree branch that had punctured the side window of the jeep and then snapped off. The blood in her hair had dried.

He spotted her cel phone near her feet and retrieved it, then saw her keys also on the floor near the gas pedal. She'd been conscious long enough to shut off the vehicle and pul out her phone. He started to reach for the keys, but his hand trembled too much to close around them. She'd been here long enough that conscious thought had turned to unintel igible sound.

While he got himself lost trying to read a map, Meghan had been resting here slowly dying. The phone had a weak signal but he lost it as he dialed. He tried again and the cal dropped a second time. He slid the phone into his shirt pocket.

"Meghan, try to wake up."

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He careful y turned her head and shone his penlight in her eyes. Though her pupils reacted there was no indication in her blinking that she noticed the light. She showed al the signs of brain trauma with an intense and deadly result. The rest of her body just hadn't caught up with that fact yet. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier, Meghan. I got lost on my drive a couple times,"

he whispered, sliding his jacket around her, preparing to abandon her and head back up to the road to try to get a phone signal. He'd worked so hard to make sure no one died on him today. The bile in his throat threatened to come up.

He turned toward the open passenger door and got partway out before pausing there with his head down.

Not this. The darkness grew for a few seconds until he pushed it away by strength of wil . He took a deep breath. Meghan only had him right now. He couldn't afford the emotions.

He pul ed the phone out to try again. He punched the redial button and this time the weak signal held.

"Dispatch, this is Stephen O'Mal ey of Unit 59. I need a code one dispatch, and if they can get airborne in this weather, a med-life flight."

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Keep her steady!" Stephen struggled against the mud and wet leaves as he and the other rescuers carried the stretcher up the bank to the road. The bank had turned into a mudslide under the foot traffic of so many people. A helicopter was nearby; he could hear the rotors. Vehicles crowded the road. He'd gotten the response he needed but feared it was too late.

Kate shoved people out of the way to reach his side as they carried the stretcher to the waiting ambulance that would take Meghan the short distance to the med-life flight. He'd put out an emergency page to the family.

"She's alive, but it's going to be a fight! Find out what happened here, Kate."

She leaned in close to be heard above the noise. "I wil . Jack's meeting you at the hospital."

"Meghan's parents?"

"On the way! Silverton's sheriff is driving them in."

Stephen pul ed himself up into the ambulance. The doors slammed behind him and they were moving.

"You kept her alive." Aaron pushed up the oxygen flow.

Stephen was glad this man was here to help him.

Aaron had been his training officer years before.

Stephen swiftly slipped an IV line into a vein on Meghan's left arm. "It looks like her watch broke at 11:12 p.m. She is wel over that critical hour." The survival stats for trauma victims

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dropped alarmingly after the first hour.

Meghan's face was darkening with bruises. Stephen wiped away mud that had splashed on her pale skin and wished she would open her eyes. If he thought it would help, he'd even pray to her God. Tears burned the back of his eyes but he refused to let them fal . Hold on, Meghan. Her breathing was so shal ow.

The ambulance pul ed near the waiting Helicopter.

Stephen shoved open the doors the instant they stopped. The helicopter had set down in the parking lot, the open spot in the midst of the trees barely large enough to give the rotors minimal clearance.

"It's a twelve-minute flight. She's heading to the best trauma unit in the state." Aaron grabbed the end of the stretcher and helped Stephen ease it down. They carried her to the helicopter and fit the gurney onto the track that pul ed it in and locked it down.

"Do you have room for one more? I know her," Stephen pleaded.

"He's one of mine," Aaron added.

The trauma flight medic pointed to the jump seat.

"Monitor her breathing and keep talking to her."

Stephen surged inside before the guy could change his mind, took the seat indicated, and clipped on the six-point restraint harness. Rotors began to spin.

"How's she doing?"

Stephen glanced up from the floor tiles to see his brother striding from the elevators. Jack must have come from a fire scene-his shirt was streaked with the stain of wet charcoal nearly inevitable during a fire cleanup. Stephen rested his head against the wal behind him. "The same. Alive." He was too tired to expand further. In a desperate attempt to keep Meghan alive, the doctors had lowered her body temperature and put her into

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an intentional coma. Her heart was beating. Everything else was an unknown. They wouldn't remove the respirator that was breathing for her until after the brain swel ing came down. He'd been sitting in this chair since she arrived. If he left, he was afraid she'd die on him.

Jack dropped a sack on the seat beside him. "A change of clothes and a razor. Go clean up some of that face fuzz she teases you about. I'l pace for you while you change, see if I can wear a few more mil imeters into your path on the floor."

Stephen smiled. Jack was the right kind of brother to have in a crisis, just enough humor to keep a situation in perspective and stop the drowning in despair.

Stephen rose and picked up the sack. "Her parents are down in the cafeteria sharing a cup of coffee."

Jack squeezed his shoulder. "I'l find everyone if there's any change."

Stephen nodded and went to clean up. He'd changed shirts earlier, but there were stil mud and bloodstains on his jeans, and it wouldn't do Meghan's mom any good to see it.

From the pocket of his jeans he pul ed out the new checker he had been working on for Meghan. The quiet conversations between her mom and dad were beginning, "If she's only blind..." The other possibilities were too terrifying to plan for. No one knew what was coming, but the blow to her head worried those who saw the early CT scans. At least she would be able to feel checkers and tel by touch which ones were different.

Meghan had been alert for at least a few minutes after the crash. The doctors said that was promising.

Stephen's hand tightened around the checker. She had to get better. In an undeclared way Meghan had joined the group of people he would always have in his life.

He couldn't lose her.

She'd had a crush on him growing up; he wasn't so blind he missed that. Encouraging her then had seemed the wrong step

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when he knew he was averse to letting anyone be closer than a friend for the long haul. He'd been protecting her, but he could have been more kind about it. And later when she had come back for nursing school, worked at the hospital-what had he been waiting for? She'd been the best kind of friend, pleased to see him and kind with her words when he did great but also when he blew it. He should have seized the opportunity. In waiting, he had irreversibly lost.

Please, give me another chance. That's al I want.

Another chance. Don't die on me, Meghan. I can't handle it.

Stephen pounded nails through the drywal , each blow a strike against time. They were slowly warming Meghan up and easing her from the drugs. He couldn't take the waiting at the hospital anymore. He was too afraid. Her eyes were open, her hands were twitching, and she was responding to pain. But until the drugs were out of her system, they didn't know how far she was coming back. It had been four days since the accident. She might wake up and talk in an hour, tomorrow, a month from now.. .or never. It was terrifying.