Ghost River

by Jon Coon

  The current quickly took him to the end of the line, and he’d not made contact with the recompression chamber. Just once, You could make it just a little easier, just once, he said looking up.

  Keeping a tight grip on the extension cord he crawled to his left and began an arc toward the river channel. The cold felt like a jackhammer smashing into his forehead.

  Gabe bumped into the chamber and grabbed the skid frame. He felt the two oxygen bottles, which supplied the masks inside, passed over them and followed the skid-frame to its end. It was jammed under the guardrail of the fallen bridge span. The crane could never have lifted it free.

  Gabe pulled himself up the chamber’s side, using it to block the current. The outer hatch was warped and the seal broken. The four dogs easily released. He pushed the door open. The inner hatch, in spite of its broken seal, refused to budge. It took all the strength of his legs to break loose the dogs, but with adrenaline pumping and back aching, he got all four dogs open and shoved in the hatch. But he was tangled in something hanging from the ceiling that would not let him enter the inner lock. It’s the dream. Why would Cas do this? As Gabe struggled to free himself he suddenly realized he was not alone. A luminescent glow warmed the chamber.

  “Charlie?”

  Gabe saw Charlie holding Emily gently in his arms. In the light, he could see the oxygen masks hanging from the ceiling, one of which had snagged his tank valve. Gabe cut it free and moved into the inner lock. Charlie looked at Gabe with sad eyes. He didn’t speak. There was no need. With a sad nod, he kissed his daughter and passed her to Gabe. Then Charlie smiled at them. His visage faded, taking with it his warmth and gossamer light.

  Gabe was gasping, and he had no idea how much air was left. No matter. He was going up with or without air. Gabe pulled the oxygen mask from Emily’s face and gave her the regulator. He pushed the purge as he forced it into her mouth, then pulled her to the outer hatch.

  Completely disoriented without the buoy line, he pushed off the bottom and began kicking as hard as he could, asking for all the power his cramped legs and rotting fins could deliver. Praying he was going in the right direction—up.

  Gabe put a hand on Emily’s chest. She wasn’t breathing. His tank was empty. He kept the regulator in her mouth to keep her airway open. He kicked harder, exhaling the last of his air just before they hit the surface.

  Holding Emily’s face above the water with one arm he waved to the boat with the other. He heard the outboard fire once, then start. The boat was on the way. He held Emily close and prayed hard for her recovery. Carol lifted her from Gabe’s arms and began CPR as soon as Emily was in the boat. Soaking wet and freezing cold, Carol kept at the ventilations and compressions until they got to shore. Only when the paramedics took over did she briefly look at Gabe and say, “Thank you.”

  Paramedics used an AED to restart her heart and an oxygen ventilator to get Emily breathing, then they ran with her gurney to the waiting Life Flight helicopter. Emily and Carol were in the air and gone before Gabe was carried to an ambulance. Layers of blankets couldn’t stop his shivering. He collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep for the next twelve hours.

  CHAPTER 43

  0900

  St. Francis Hospital

  Carol and Alethea were beside him in the hospital when he woke. When she saw him move Carol came to the edge of his bed, dropped the rail, sat beside him, and took his hand.

  “Emily?” he asked.

  “She’s still in intensive care,” Carol said. “We won’t know for a while yet. Sleep if you can, I’ll wake you if there’s a change.”

  He woke again hours later, to a dark and empty room. He found the call button and summoned a nurse. “How is Emily Evans, the little girl who was flown in from the river?”

  The nurse took his arm, checked his pulse, and examined the IV connected to the needle in his arm. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, but I know you tried to save her. It doesn’t look good.”

  “I want to see her,” Gabe said.

  “You need to rest,”

  “After I see her. Please help me.”

  “Wait,” she answered. “I’ll get a chair.”

  He waited, but she didn’t return. He pulled the IV needle from his arm, lowered the side rail, and swung his legs from the bed. There were bruises and bandages on his arms and legs. He felt like rigor mortis had frozen his back. He pushed his way out of bed and stood. He stumbled forward, grabbing the over-bed table to steady himself.

  “Told you,” the nurse said from the door. “You’re not ready to be up yet.”

  “I need to see her,” Gabe insisted.

  She looked at him like an obstinate child, then said, “Okay, I’ll give you a ride. Have a seat. But we’ll have to make it a quick trip.”

  On the way to intensive care they passed a windowless door with a cross. The entrance to the small chapel was slightly open, and Gabe saw Alethea on her knees in front of a large crucifix. Gabe asked the nurse to wait. White candles were burning on the table below the cross. Alethea was praying softly and rocking forward and back before it. Gabe quietly closed the door, and they proceeded down the hall.

  In the ICU Carol and Paul waited outside Emily’s room. Carol was in borrowed scrubs and had gotten a shower. But it was doubtful she’d slept since they’d left the river. She got up from the chair and went to him.

  “What are you doing up?” she asked.

  “I needed to see her. Any word?”

  “They did an EEG. The cold water saved her brain. They call it mammalian diving syndrome. That’s the good news. The bad news is acidosis. Her blood chemistry is bad. They can’t get her bradycardia, sorry, her slow heart rate, back to normal. It’s going to be a long night. She could certainly use your prayers.”

  “She’s going to make it,” Gabe said. “She’s got help, and she’s going to be all right.” He wanted to tell her the rest, that Charlie had been there, that Alethea was in the chapel, but there were other ears.

  Carol looked at him, trying to understand.

  “We need to take you back and restart that IV,” the nurse scolded. She turned to Carol. “He was in such a hurry he pulled out the line. Now we get to stick him again.”

  Carol shook her head, “Cops aren’t good patients. Go back to bed, Gabe. I’ll tell you if there are changes.”

  When they were back in the hall, Gabe asked his nurse, “Could we stop in the chapel, please?”

  “Sure, but only for a minute. You need to be back in bed, and I have other patients.”

  Gabe eased open the door. Alethea was collapsed on the floor in front of the crucifix. The nurse put a code in her phone then knelt to the floor beside Alethea. Gabe was already out of his chair with Alethea’s head in his arms. She moaned and opened her eyes.

  “That’s awful,” she said. “I must have fainted.”

  “I doubt it,” Gabe answered, “You’re much too tough for that.”

  The nurse took her pulse and went out to the hall to get a blood pressure cuff. “I’ll get another wheelchair,” she said and did an about-face. Gabe waited for the door to close behind her.

  “What did you do?” he asked sternly. “Did you make a deal with that loa, Baron what’s-his-name?”

  “Baron Samedi. And no, I told you, I’m a good Catholic girl now.” She sat up more in his arms and straightened her skirt. “I was praying, and I must have fainted. Old folks do that, you know. It’s been a long, hard day, and I’m not young anymore.”

  If they’d been playing poker, he would have called her bluff.

  “Emily’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”

  “She’s going to be okay. For certain sure. You saw Charlie, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. How did you know?” he asked.

  “Because you’re both still alive. Now help me up. Emily’s in good hands. The best.”

  CHAPTER 44

  He didn’t know how long he’d slept, but when Gabe woke daylight filled the room. Alethea and Carol were sitti
ng beside his bed quietly talking.

  “Good morning,” Carol said. She looked exhausted.

  “Emily?” he asked.

  “It’s a miracle. She woke this morning alert and smiling. She’s still congested, but her doc says it’s not that serious. If she continues to improve I can take her home tomorrow.”

  Gabe looked at Alethea who smiled and then looked away. “That’s wonderful, Carol. Our prayers have been answered.” He looked back at Alethea and wondered.

  “She knows what happened, and she’s asking for you. She and Paul want to come in if you’re ready for company.”

  Gabe smiled and wanted to hug Carol, but she held him away. Not understanding, he dropped his arms and quietly said, “Sure, bring them in.”

  Paul pushed Emily’s wheelchair into the room and up to his bed. She took his hand and pulled herself up until she could hug him. “I’m still kind of wobbly,” she said and coughed. “But I’m going to be fine.”

  “That’s wonderful, honey,” he said.

  “Gabe, I’ve got something cool to tell you, and you probably won’t believe me, but I swear it’s true.”

  “Try me.”

  “Dad was there with me. He held me while we waited for you.”

  “Did he talk to you?” Alethea asked. Her smile was warm and full of love.

  “No, he just held me. But I felt so much love it was like more than talking. He kept me warm. You believe me, don’t you?” She dried a tear she hoped no one had seen.

  “Without a doubt, child. Gabriel, how about you?” Alethea said.

  “No question. Of course your dad was there,” Gabe confirmed.

  A nurse came into the room, “Emily, sorry to bust up the party, but we need you for another test.”

  “I’ll take her back,” Paul said and then reached out to Gabe who took his hand. “Thanks, man, no one could have done what you did. Well maybe no one except my dad and you. Thanks.” Paul rolled Emily out, and the room was quiet.

  After a few moments of awkward silence Carol stood and spoke, “Gabe, when Emily is discharged, I’m going to take her home with me . . . back to my house. I almost lost you both. I couldn’t live through another loss like that. Not again. And there are the other things. Please understand.”

  “But, but—we saved her. Don’t do this! Not now.”

  “Yes, you saved her, but didn’t all of this happen because we were with you? I love you, but I need time to think,” she turned toward the door and then turned back again. “Maybe you were right. Maybe it is just too complicated. But I want to know, Alethea, did Cas do this? Did she send me that dream and try to kill my daughter?”

  “I don’t think so. The dream warned you danger was coming. It helped prepare you. I’m certain Casilda didn’t send that message. It’s Gabriel she’s mad at. Not you.”

  “Then from where? Who?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “Charlie?”

  “He warned you. He’s protecting you both, even now. Only powerful spirits can do that.”

  “And you believe that’s possible? It’s too much. I just don’t know.”

  “Who’s to say what’s possible and what’s not? You did those dives with Gabriel. Was what you saw possible?”

  “Charlie was there, holding Emily,” Gabe said. “I saw him. I was tangled and running out of air. His light let me see. He saved us both.”

  “And that surprises you? I should think you would have been expecting it,” Alethea said.

  Carol didn’t respond at first. It was too much to process. She just sat down on the foot of his bed, quietly turning the wedding rings on her left hand. “I’ve got to think about this a while.” She got up, hugged them both and left them alone.

  “I never had a chance with her, did I?” Gabe said shaking his head.

  “Carol is lovely, Gabriel,” she said leaning toward him affectionately, “But she’s not your people. Sooner or later she was bound to break your heart. I was right. Now you see that’s true.”

  “But—”

  “You belong with us. Cas loves you. I love you. No secrets, no explanations. Just family. With your gifts and Cas’s—”

  “What happened to ‘I’m a good Catholic girl who doesn’t believe—’”

  “I don’t believe in spells and curses or dolls and pins. But the supernatural is real. You see it every time you speak to a soul and send it on its way. You could be much more a power for good if you would claim your gifts and accept your destiny. And you need to appreciate the importance of family. We’re here for you always.”

  She let him sit quietly for a while. He had a lot to think about.

  “Angels came for Wyatt Bodine. How could that be?”

  “You mean because he was guilty and he deserved hell, not heaven? And how could God do something so unjust?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ve been expecting this for some time, Gabe. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ever hear of mercy? Forgiveness? We forget He has the right to have mercy on anyone He chooses. Aren’t we all guilty? If any of us got the justice we deserve heaven would be a very lonely place.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “In your world you want retribution. You want the guilty to burn in hell. You want revenge. But maybe that’s not always what He has in mind. Maybe there was a lesson in what happened with Wyatt Bodine,” she said.

  “I don’t like where this is going. You’re talking about my father.”

  “Am I? I don’t remember mentioning his name. But I do recall you had strong opinions about where he should spend eternity.” Her eyes were sad. Her head tilted slightly.

  “That hasn’t changed. Have you heard anything more about his getting out—that parole hearing?”

  “Denied. He will serve the full sentence.”

  “He’s safer in there than he would be with me,” Gabe said. “God may forgive him, but I never will.” Gabe was inflated with anger. He knew it was wrong but was hopeless in its grasp. He needed a woodpile and his maul. There was blessed relief in hitting something solid with all your strength.

  “Then, as I’ve told you before, you will never be free of him,” she reached out and held his arm. He averted her eyes but didn’t pull away. Silence hung heavily between them. Gabe knew she was right, but he was trapped in the memories of his mother’s brutal murder.

  “Did Cas burn the house?” he asked looking back into her sad, dark eyes. “She had a .22 in her purse the last time I saw her. She could have shot Carol’s car. What’s next? How can we stop her before this gets worse?”

  “No. Casilda blames you, not Carol. If she were going to shoot anything or anyone, you would be at the head of her list.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I guess.” He wasn’t so sure. “I was thinking about Wyatt Bodine last night, and I just realized something. Maybe I was lucky. With Carol, I mean.”

  “Why do you think that’s true?”

  “He was in love with Catherine Conners. He was a victim of love, and look where it got him. At least I’m still here.”

  Alethea stayed with him until he drifted back into a troubled sleep.

  CHAPTER 45

  Gabe lay back in bed with plenty to think about. At the top of the list were all the times his instincts had warned him about falling in love with Carol. She was Charlie’s wife, the timing was impossible, and he’d never been comfortable in romantic relationships. He was the damaged son of an abusive, alcoholic murderer, who talked with the dead. Add that to his life as a cop, and she was right. Only an idiot would take on that much risk. She had good reason to stop and think.

  Sunlight was banging on the window when Bob came in and sat down beside him with two paper coffee cups.

  “Morning,” Bob handed him a cup. “Feel like talking?”

  “Sure. Anything turn up in the files from Peterson’s?”

  “Yep. Lots of dirt on highway guys in several states. D
A Carruthers has called in the FBI. They are going to have their hands full.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Still looking for Bodine’s body. Carol said you were on his dad’s boat for a while before he took off on the bike. Did he tell you anything new?”

  “Remember Catherine Conners at McFarland Construction? She’s in line to own the company if anything happens to Conners. Wyatt said he was in love with her. He was trying to save the company so she could sell it. Then they would do a happy ever after under the palm trees. In order for that to work he had to make the evidence against the company go away. His escape plan was to go to Costa Rica, disappear, and wait for her to join him.”

  “No wonder they didn’t want Rogers to testify.”

  “More than that, it was personal. He admitted to killing Rogers and our guys. He said Rogers helped Conners kill his dad and killed his sister.”

  “What about Janna and the hit and run?”

  “Wyatt said that was all Conners. Janna was like family,” Gabe said.

  “Something I need to tell you about Janna. Remind me later.”

  “I think Wyatt was mostly telling the truth. Can’t prove it. Just my gut. We have to find that laptop. That’s the only way we’re going to know.”

  “The team’s been looking for over a week. Odds aren’t good,” Bob said.

  “We have to find it. I have an idea. Hand me my clothes. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Don’t suppose it will do any good to remind you you’re in the hospital because you nearly died two days ago . . . in that river.”

  “None whatsoever. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re wasting time. Let’s go. Oh, what were you going to tell me about Janna?”

  “Later.”

  “Two things are going to happen,” Gabe said. He, Bob, and Nick were on the remains of the bridge watching the river roll past. “We’re going to make a production out of looking for that laptop. We want everyone to know what we are doing and why. Now if you were trying to stop us, how would you do it?”

  “Lots of sniper cover,” Nick said, looking at the ridge and trees along the river.