Fatal Exposure

by Jamie Jeffries

  He was so focused on the tracks he didn’t realize how long he’d been looking, until Blue bounded past him. Assuming Cody was trailing, Dylan broke into an awkward jog, dodging cacti and other obstacles as he tried to keep up with the dog. Blue stopped at the entrance to the ravine, looking back, and then loped off again. Dylan realized as soon as he was in it himself that a sharp turn concealed what was behind it. Rounding the point, he was astonished to see a flat area of about a quarter of an acre, with Joe’s squad car, Alex’s car, and a fifth-wheel style RV on a supporting frame, all lined up next to a red sandstone fin backing the clearing.

  Before he knew it, Dylan was at the door of the RV, attempting to open it and finding it locked. He called out. “Lexi, are you in there?” There was no answer.

  Dylan looked around wildly for something to break down the door, and suddenly Cody was at his side, holding a tire iron out to him. He used the flat end of it to pry against the RV door next to the lever that should open it, but failed to pop the latch. Letting loose a howl of frustration, Dylan kicked the door. With his right arm in the cast, he couldn’t get the leverage he needed. Silently, Cody took the tire iron from him and attacked the lever with it, slicing down over and over until it was hanging crookedly from the door. Then he slid the flat end into the crack and heaved. The door swung open and Cody stepped back just in time to avoid getting trampled as Dylan rushed in.

  Alex lay on her side, unconscious or dead. Her hands were bound in front of her. Surrounding her were several cans of vegetables. Dylan held his breath as he touched her, fearing the worst. Her skin was hot and dry, but he detected a thready pulse at her neck. She was alive! He wanted to gather her into his arms and just hold her. Fearing injury, he restrained himself. She needed water and emergency care for what he suspected was heatstroke.

  “Cody, do you have cell signal?” He wanted a helicopter to get her to a hospital as soon as possible.

  “Not here. Down the road a ways I did.”

  “She’s in critical condition. Get to where you can find a signal as quickly as possible. Call the hospital directly and tell them we have a heatstroke victim and need a life-flight chopper. Stay there so they can home in on your cell signal. Got it?” While he was talking, he was yanking the sheet off of the bed in the overhead and pulling a bottle of water out of his backpack. He wadded the sheet into the tiny galley sink and poured the water over it.

  “Got it,” Cody said, then left with no further direction. Blue was outside, and even after Dylan heard Cody’s footsteps recede, stayed by the trailer, whining. After a minute, he began to howl, a mournful sound that freaked Dylan out. Frantically, he checked Alex’s heartbeat again, finding it no better or worse than before. The sheet wasn’t soaked as it should be; there wasn’t enough water in the one bottle to do that. He did the best he could without using more water, arranging the wettest parts on Alex’s chest and head. He needed to cool her down as quickly as he could, and get some water into her if he could. First, he fanned her, inadequately, with his hand, directing the air he was moving toward the wet parts of the sheet. After a few minutes of that, he placed the tube of his Camelbak between her lips, squeezing it with his right hand as best he could, while holding the backpack as high as he could with his left arm. It was awkward kneeling next to her. A few drops of water appeared on her lips. This wasn’t working.

  Alex was lying with her back to the galley, which wasn’t the best direction for what he tried next, but there was no choice. He needed both hands to open her mouth and squirt the water in, but it wasn’t going to feed unless he had a way to hold the backpack above her. He cursed his injury viciously as he worked to get some water into her.

  He placed the backpack on a pantry shelf, with the strap looped around the doorknob in case it shifted. Tried again to force water into her mouth. This time he used his good hand to open her mouth a little more, forcing a finger between her teeth and feeding the tube past them. Then he squeezed, and a strong stream of the water filled her slack mouth.

  “Lexi, wake up, honey. You need to swallow the water,” Dylan watched the precious liquid dribble back out. “Please, baby, drink.”

  Her throat convulsed as some of the water slipped down her esophagus. It was the most beautiful sight in Dylan’s conscious memory. If he could just cool her a few degrees and get some water into her, she’d make it. If the chopper got here soon, anyway. He filled her mouth with water again, and then resumed fanning her, tears running down his face unheeded.

  ~~~

  There wasn’t room for Dylan in the helicopter, so he walked back to the staging area with Cody and Blue. He asked Cody if Blue ever got people food.

  “Sometimes,” he said. “He likes raw meat, when I can afford it.” Blue looked back and forth between them as if he could understand what they were saying.

  “I’m going to buy him the biggest steak I can find.” Dylan could have sworn Blue grinned.

  An hour later, they were being pounded on the back by the other searchers, but a somber group of Sheriff’s deputies was congregated to the side. He walked over to them.

  “I’m so sorry, guys.” Joe had been a thorn in his side lately, and he strongly suspected the jerk had endangered Alex’s life somehow. Still, he’d been a schoolmate, a teammate, and a former friend. Dylan wasn’t glad to see him dead. On top of all that, it would have been better if they’d been able to question him about what this was all about. The only hope to get to the bottom of it now was Alex, if she pulled through.

  She wasn’t out of the woods yet when the chopper left with her. A sense of urgency to get to her invaded him. The relief he felt by just finding her alive was deserting him. He needed to be with her. Shaking hands all around with the deputies, Dylan left for the hospital.

  Alex had been moved from the ER to a regular room by the time Dylan got there. Her dad was sitting in the waiting room looking like he’d enjoy a snack of nails. Paul stood as Dylan approached, and grabbed him for a bear hug. This was the second time Paul had hugged him, and he still didn’t know how to react. When Paul let him out of the clinch, he put both his hands on Dylan’s uninjured arm and squeezed.

  “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say, but if it hadn’t been for you knowing what to do for her, she’d be dead by now. The doctor said her core temp was still about one-oh-four when she got here.” Paul choked up then, unable to say more.

  It shook Dylan. She must have been even closer to death when he found her than he’d thought. He was certain he’d cooled her at least a degree or two. One or two degrees hotter and she would have been dead of renal failure, cardiac arrest or any number of organ breakdowns related to the body’s inability to function at that temperature. It was too close a call—his stomach rebelled at the stress. Dylan bolted for the men’s room.

  When he returned, Paul was in the same spot.

  “Has she regained consciousness?”

  “No,” Paul said, shaking his head in emphasis. Dylan didn’t know if the doctor had told him, or if he knew from his own body of knowledge, but Alex was still in grave danger. Her kidneys could have been damaged already. She could even have brain damage. Dylan couldn’t say anything, though. Saying it aloud might make it real. He pulled out his cell phone and called Ange.

  “How is Mom?” It seemed like ages since he’d really sat down with his mother and assessed her condition for himself.

  “Same-old, same-old,” Ange said. “Any news?”

  “We found her. I want to wait here with her dad until she wakes up. Are we okay?”

  “You know it, champ. How is she?”

  Dylan didn’t want to answer frankly while sitting there with her dad, so he settled for a bland, “We’re hoping for the best.” Silence on the other end gave him the impression Ange was applying logic to what he’d said. Her quiet response confirmed it.

  “Oh, shit, Dylan. I’m sorry. I’ll pray for her.”

  “Thank you, Ange. You’re the best,” Dylan ended the call before he choked
up. Paul didn’t need that; he needed someone who had optimism. Dylan forced a smile.

  “Ange says I’m okay to wait here with you. Can I get you something? I’m going to find a vending machine and get a soda.”

  “I’m fine, son. Hurry back,” he said. “Alex will want to see you when I tell her what you did for her.”

  Dylan pondered that statement as he located a vending machine and selected a cola. Paul must have come to terms with him seeing Alex, and for that he was glad. He couldn’t wait to hold her, couldn’t deny his feelings for her anymore. But, he still had a dilemma. They hadn’t settled what their relationship was. She hadn’t said she’d give up her dreams. Neither could he give up his mission to adopt his brothers. It was a conflict he wasn’t certain he could resolve. How would Paul feel about him if Alex and he couldn’t work out their problems? Would he find himself at the wrong end of a shotgun again?

  Chugging half the can of cola, Dylan told himself the first hurdle to clear was getting Alex back, hopefully with little, or better no damage to her mind or her body. He’d have to cross the next bridge when he came to it. If he came to it.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Friday July 25

  I’m cold, so cold. Why am I cold, and where am I? Alex’s eyes opened to an unfamiliar room. She was in a bed, and tubes were attached to her. The last thing she remembered was Joe forcing her into his squad car. She freaked out. Screaming, Alex tried to pull the tubes out of her arms, but it hurt. To her horror, blood pooled under the skin on the back of her hand, making her scream even louder. A door crashed open and a woman in scrubs with flags printed on the top raced in.

  “Miss Ward, calm down,” she ordered. She took Alex’s bloody hand and swore. In a calmer voice, “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. Promise me you won’t pull on anything else, or I’ll have to sedate you.” The only thing that sunk in right away was ‘safe’. Alex stopped struggling.

  “Good girl. I need to fix this IV. Can you stay calm, or do I need to call someone else in?” Alex nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  Alex looked around the room. Some flowers on a table, white roses, her favorite. One red rose in a bud vase. And a basket of chrysanthemums. How long had she been here? And why?

  A soft knock at the door drew her attention, and her eyes filled with tears. “Daddy.”

  “Baby Girl, thank God you’re awake,” he said, confusing her further.

  “What happened to me, Daddy?”

  “He’ll have to fill you in later,” said the nurse, who had returned with Doctor Sam. He stepped in around her dad and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Hi, Alex,” Dr. Sam said. Turning to her dad, he added, “Give us a few minutes to check her over, Paul. I’ll call you back in when we’re done.”

  “What’s wrong with me, Dr. Sam?” The nurse raised her eyebrows, but Alex couldn’t remember his last name. She’d called him Dr. Sam as long as she could remember.

  “Nothing a little rest and recuperation won’t fix,” he said, winking at her. “You’ve pulled your IV part-way out, and it’s infiltrated. Ms. Whitney will have to start a new one, probably in the other hand,” he said, glancing at the nurse. “Let’s get this one all the way out.” He motioned to the nurse, who pulled the tape away before slipping the needle the rest of the way out of Alex’s hand. It ached where the blood pooled, but she put gauze and tape over it and Alex figured it would stop hurting after a while. Ms. Whitney stepped back as the doctor put his hand along Alex’s cheek.

  “You gave us all a scare, missy,” he said, moving his hand to her eyelids and pulling each one up with his thumb as he looked intently into her eyes. After that, he moved the sheet aside and looked below the bed. “Output’s good,” he remarked. “Vitals are normal. I think you’ll be just fine.”

  “But, Dr. Sam! Why am I here?”

  “Oh,” he said. “Heatstroke. You’re a lucky girl. That boyfriend of yours saved you. I’m sure you’ll want to give him a big kiss, but if you don’t, I will. I’d hate to lose my favorite patient.” This information made no sense. Alex stared at him as he addressed the nurse.

  “I’d like to keep her for one more night, now she’s awake. If everything remains normal, we’ll discharge her tomorrow.” To Alex, he said, “Bye, cutie. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Before she could respond, he was gone, leaving Ms. Whitney to start a new IV in her other hand. Now she knew how much it hurt to pull it out, she planned to leave it alone.

  “Ms. Whitney? May I have some water? And is it near a mealtime? I’m hungry.” The nurse smiled at Alex, with better effect than the frown she had when she first came into the room.

  “Of course, dear.” Alex took a long drink, emptying half the glass as the nurse held it for her.

  “Is it okay if Daddy comes back in?”

  “Sure. I’ll get him.” She left and Alex lay there puzzling about what all this meant.

  “Welcome back, Alex.” The voice wasn’t Dad’s. She looked at the door to see Deputy Thurston there.

  “Where’s Daddy?” Alex frowned

  “He’ll be right here,” Thurston said. “I’ll wait for him, but we need to get some things straight about what happened to you. Do you feel like answering some questions?”

  The monitor at her side began to beep more rapidly as she considered his question. She didn’t know if she could answer any questions—she had some of her own.

  ~~~

  Dad came in, followed by Rick Englebright. Alex wondered what Rick was doing there, until Deputy Thurston started asking questions.

  “Now, Alex, I know you’ve been through an ordeal, and I don’t want to tire you, but we need to get some things straight about what happened to you and Joe Hendricks. Do you mind if I record this?” He took out a small digital recorder, and waited for her answer before switching it on.

  “Just a moment, Kevin,” said Rick. “In what capacity are you questioning my client?” His client? What had she done to need a lawyer? Alex looked at her dad and frowned, shaking her head.

  “What’s going on? I don’t even know what happened to me. Can someone please fill me in? Why am I in the hospital?” Dad looked at Rick, who was staring at her in apparent surprise.

  “Kevin, you’re going to have to excuse us for a few,” Rick said.

  Deputy Thurston frowned, shook his head, and said, “Not a chance.” He turned and addressed her dad. “Paul, we can’t have the investigation compromised by you and Rick confusing her memories. I need to be here.”

  Rick fired back, “Lawyer-client privilege. Ever hear of that, Kevin? She’s clearly confused. I want her doctor in here to evaluate whether she has some memory loss, and if so, we need to fill her in on what’s happened.”

  “Oh, that’s convenient,” Kevin sneered. “Perfect alibi, ‘I don’t remember.’ I don’t think so.”

  Alex was following this exchange like a tennis match, swinging her head back and forth between them and becoming more and more bewildered. Alibi? For what? What did he mean, memory loss? Her head began to pound and she reached to press it with her hands, pulling at her IV tube in the process. The sharp tweak made her cry out.

  All three men in the room stopped talking and looked at her, and Dad took charge. “All right, that’s enough. Rick, you and Kevin take your pissing contest outside. And Rick, please ask someone to get Doc Sam over here ASAP.”

  Rick and Kevin left, still arguing, and Dad came close to the bed to take her bandaged hand. “I’m sorry, Baby Girl. We’ll get this straightened out soon.”

  “Get what straightened out? Dad, what the hell is going on? Why all the mystery? What am I doing here? Please, give me some answers!” The signals on her bedside monitor were going off in a cacophony of beeps and whistles, making her want to yank all the leads off to shut it up. Ms. Whitney came bustling in, glaring balefully at Dad. She checked the monitor and shut off the alarms.

  “Mr. Ward, if you’re going to upset her, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

/>   Dad opened his mouth to protest, but Alex beat him to it. “He’s not upsetting me. No one will tell me anything—that’s what’s upsetting me. And every time I’m about to get answers, someone interrupts!” She was yelling by then, and Ms. Whitney raised her hand in a gesture of surrender.

  “All right, sorry! Doctor Rowley will be here in a few minutes. Your dad can stay with you until he gets here.” Turning to Dad, she admonished him, “I recommend you wait for the doctor before saying anything else. Your friends are outside creating a disturbance. Would you mind stepping out for a moment to quiet them down?”

  Dad squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back Baby Girl. As soon as Doc Sam gets here, we’ll answer all your questions.” It was the best she could hope for, she supposed. She squeezed his hand back, then let go to let Dad step outside.

  Ms. Whitney smiled at her. “I’m sorry for all the drama, Miss Ward. I’m sure you’ll be right as rain as soon as you know.” The smile didn’t reach her eyes. What is everyone keeping from me?

  Alex didn’t have long to wait, although the ten minutes were some of the longest of her life. She was awake but had her eyes closed when a footstep alerted her to someone coming in.

  “Hi, Dr. Sam. Will you please tell these people I don’t remember shit and make them tell me what’s going on?”

  Dr. Sam broke into a big grin at her inappropriate language and responded in kind. “You bet, sweetheart. Paul, your daughter doesn’t remember shit. Please tell her what’s going on.”

  Dad was goggling at her. He’d heard her slip up before, but not often, and in this setting it seemed to throw him for a loop. “Language, young lady,” he said. Then he proceeded to tell her, and she wished she hadn’t asked.

  “Alex, do you know what day it is?” Without waiting for an answer, he told her. “It’s Friday.”