by Hope White
“What?”
“He’s got a lot of redness on his chest and stomach, like he was beaten up.”
They pulled up to the hospital.
“This is as far as you go, sorry,” Maddie said.
The back door opened. Two sheriff’s deputies stood there, along with Echo Mountain Police Chief Lew Washburn, and Wallace Falls Police Chief Charles Trainer, who Bree’s family fondly called Uncle Chuck.
Two officers and two police chiefs? Blue Eyes must be in big-time trouble.
“Bree,” he groaned, opening his eyes.
Maddie shot Bree a disapproving look.
“I’m here,” Bree said, squeezing his hand.
The other paramedic came around and helped Maddie lift the stretcher out of the ambulance. Blue Eyes didn’t release Bree’s hand.
Uncle Chuck approached. “Breanna, we need to—”
“I’ll be right back,” she interrupted.
She walked alongside the stretcher, offering words of comfort to Blue Eyes. “You’ll be okay. They’ll take care of you here.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I’ll stay close, promise.”
“You’ve got to let him go, Bree,” Maddie said as they wheeled him into the E.R.
Bree released his hand.
“No, Bree,” he gasped, and the look in his eyes nearly tore her apart inside. Pure and utter devastation coupled with fear. She’d seen that look...in the mirror.
She motioned for her cousin to stop the stretcher and Bree leaned close to the stranger. “I’ll be right outside. Let them fix you up so you can get out of here and do something fun.”
“With you?”
Bree shot a quick glance at Maddie and looked back at the stranger. “Sure.”
“You won’t leave me?”
“I won’t leave you.”
He released her hand and they wheeled him into the examining area. Bree automatically reached for her locket, praying for guidance. Had she done the right thing by making that promise? Of course she had, because it had calmed him down enough to release her and get much needed medical attention.
“Breanna?”
She turned to Uncle Chuck and Chief Washburn.
“Hey, hi, Uncle Chuck.” She gave him a hug. Chuck had been a friend for years and helped out after Dad had passed away.
They broke the hug and she nodded at Lew Washburn. “Hey, Chief.”
“Let’s sit down and you can give me your official statement.” Chief Washburn motioned her to the waiting area.
Breanna hesitated, not wanting to break her word to Blue Eyes.
“We’ll be close to the examining room,” Chief Washburn said.
With a nod, Breanna accompanied them to the waiting area, positioning herself so she could keep an eye on the door.
“Do you know the victim?” Uncle Chuck asked her.
“No.” Although she felt oddly connected to him in a way she couldn’t explain.
“Tell us what happened,” Chief Washburn said.
As Bree retold the story, she clicked into that distancing mode, the place where it felt as if she was talking about someone else.
“You jumped out of the tree to help him, knowing he was being pursued by two gunmen?” Uncle Chuck said.
She didn’t miss the disbelief in his voice, nor the disapproval.
“They would have killed him,” she said.
“They might have killed you,” he scolded.
His tone sparked shame through her body, but she pushed it aside. She would not feel ashamed for saving a man’s life.
“They were far enough away that I didn’t feel I was in immediate danger,” she said. “I thought I had enough time to help the man hide until authorities arrived.”
“When I tell your mother—”
“Please let me do it. I’ll call her as soon as we’re done.”
Bree surely didn’t want people tattling on her, although considering how many people had probably heard about the morning’s events, Bree suspected Mom already knew. Small towns were like that.
“What else can I tell you?” She directed her question to Chief Washburn.
“A description of the gunmen.”
She described what they looked like, trying to recall details from when she viewed them through the binoculars.
“One of the men said ‘he’s gonna want proof,’” Bree said.
“You were so close that you could hear what they were saying?” Uncle Chuck’s voice pitched.
“Uncle Chuck, I’ve been through a traumatic event. It’s just now hitting me how dangerous it was and you’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m sorry.”
But it was natural for him to worry. He was protective of the McBride clan.
“Let’s all take a breath,” Chief Washburn said. “Breanna’s okay, but we have two gunmen on the loose and we need to involve as many law enforcement personnel as possible to track them down so no one else gets hurt.”
“They had accents,” Bree said.
“Foreign or...?” Chief Washburn asked.
“Midwest, Chicago. You know that nasal A sound?”
“Okay, that’s good.” The chief wrote something in his notepad. “As I understand it, there was no ID on the victim?”
“That’s right.”
“Did he tell you his name?” Chief Washburn asked.
“He doesn’t seem to remember it.”
“Convenient,” Uncle Chuck muttered.
“He’s got a nasty head wound,” she said defensively.
The E.R. doors opened to the outside and she spotted a familiar group of people: the SAR K9 team, along with Bree’s brother, Aiden, and their mom. So much for Bree calmly breaking the news to Mom about today’s events. Bree’s best friend, Billie, and her fiancé, Quinn, were also with the group.
Aiden marched up to Bree, who put out her hand in a stop gesture. “I’m fine, but I need another minute to give my statement.”
She didn’t miss Mom’s worried frown, or the angry twist of Aiden’s mouth. He’d better not be angry with her or she’d let him have it. Bree had been holding it in these past few hours, trying to remain calm and levelheaded for Blue Eyes. It wouldn’t take much for her to lose her cool, especially with family who she knew loved her no matter how cranky she got.
Bree finished describing the two men. Chief Washburn asked, “About the gunshot victim, any idea who he is or why he was assaulted?”
“No, sir. He didn’t say much, although he said a name, Emily, and that he’d keep her safe.”
The chief jotted something down. “Did he have a backpack?”
“No, sir. Maddie the EMT made a comment about his chest and torso looking red, too, like he’d been beaten up.”
“And he said nothing that would give us a clue what he was doing out on the trail?”
“No, sorry.”
“It seemed like he’s bonded with you,” Chief Washburn said.
Mom and Aiden were within earshot, but she didn’t care. “Yes, sir, I believe he has.”
“He trusts you?” Chief Washburn said.
“He’s scared. He can’t remember anything, even his name, and he’s in a strange hospital with multiple injuries. He needs to trust someone.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Chief Washburn said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Even though this could be a dangerous man?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Someone was shooting at him,” Uncle Chuck interjected.
“I know,” she said, glancing at him, “I was there, remember?”
Bree wasn’t usually a smarty-pants, but she was tired of people passing
judgment on her. They’d passed judgment on her relationship with Thomas, which is one of the reasons she’d stayed silent about the emotional abuse for so long.
A few people had also given her a hard time about no longer doing hair when she’d moved back to town, instead choosing to be a groundskeeper, working for her brother who managed Echo Mountain Resort. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about Bree’s life. Some days she wished they’d all spend their energy worrying about themselves.
“I can’t make any sense out of your behavior today,” Chuck said.
“Why don’t you go check on Margaret?” Chief Washburn suggested to Uncle Chuck.
Chuck had obviously lost objectivity in regards to this situation because of how much he cared about Bree’s mom. It was the worst kept secret in town.
Chief Washburn closed his notebook. “I’m going to assign an officer to watch over the victim. I’m sure your family is going to encourage you to detach from this situation.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Because?”
“I feel a connection to him.”
Chief Washburn studied her and waited for more.
“I know what it’s like to feel lost and vulnerable,” she said, “to feel so scared and there’s no one to help you. I’ve been there.”
“Well, truth is your connection to this man could be my best lead, but I won’t be responsible for stirring up trouble between you and your family. If you stick close to him and discover anything that might help with my investigation, please call me.” The chief handed her a business card with his office and cell numbers.
“Of course.”
He hesitated before standing. “Breanna, you are a remarkably brave woman.”
“Thank you, sir.”
She glanced past him at the group of family and friends in the waiting area. They probably wouldn’t call her brave or applaud her decision to help the stranger.
Bree had survived a violent event, yet had kept it together long enough to give her statement to police. She needed time alone to regroup, a few minutes to let the reality of her situation wash over her—but in private so she wouldn’t get emotional in front of her family.
“Hey, Chief, I need to use the washroom. Would you mind telling my family I’ll be right back?”
“Sure.”
Bree slipped away, hurried down the hall into the single-stall bathroom and locked the door.
She was okay; everything was fine. She studied her reflection in the mirror. The chief would circulate a description of the attackers, and Blue Eyes would get his memory back and help them figure out why someone had tried to kill him.
No matter what her family said, she knew in her heart she’d done the right thing by helping him. She wouldn’t allow her overly protective brother to make her feel guilty or ashamed by her actions.
Splashing cool water on her face, Bree considered the words she’d spoken to Blue Eyes. I’ll stay close, promise.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but she desperately wanted him to get medical attention and it seemed as though promising to stay close was the only way to make that happen.
“Looks like I’m hanging around for a while,” she whispered to herself, because Bree didn’t break promises, even to strangers.
This should be fun, explaining to her family and friends why she was sticking close to a man she barely knew. Make that a man she didn’t know at all, heck, she didn’t even know his name.
She pulled her hair back, spread gloss on her dry lips and applied a little blush to look healthy, not exhausted. They’d be waiting and wanting details, a reason as to why she’d jump into the midst of gunfire. The only explanation she could offer was that it was the right thing to do.
“Don’t second-guess yourself,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. That behavior had gotten her into trouble before.
She grabbed her pack and left the bathroom. As she ambled down the hall, she took a deep breath and touched her necklace for strength.
Her family and friends were passionate about keeping her safe because they loved her.
Love, a complicated emotion.
She glanced up and noticed a man leave the E.R. examining room heading in her direction. Boy, it was busy tonight at the Echo County E.R.
She politely smiled at the man as he passed, and he nodded in return. Distracted by thoughts of defending herself from her family, it took a few seconds before she realized he looked familiar.
“I was about to come find you,” Aiden said, walking up to her.
In a flash it hit her: the man she just passed was one of the gunmen.
And he’d come out of the examining area where they’d taken Blue Eyes.
“No, no, no,” she muttered, shoving her brother aside.
“Bree?”
She rushed past him and flung open the doors to the examining area. The curtains were pulled back and all the beds were empty.
THREE
“Can I help you?” a nurse asked Bree from the corner of the room.
“A man was brought in, thirties, dark hair, blue eyes, slight beard.”
“Mr. Smith?”
“Yes, where is he?”
“They moved him.”
“Bree, what are you doing?” Aiden said, following her into the examining area.
She turned to him. “Is Chief Washburn still here?”
“Yes, he’s—”
“Go tell him I just saw one of the shooters.”
“He’s here? Are you sure?” Aiden’s face reddened.
“Yes, go.”
Bree turned back to the nurse and focused on speaking as calmly as possible as she fought the panic building in her chest. “Mr. Smith’s in danger. You need to tell the police where he’s been moved so they can protect him.”
“Sure, okay, let me check the computer.” She went to a terminal and tapped on the keyboard.
“Did anyone else ask about him?” Bree pressed.
“I don’t think so, but I just got here.”
Chief Washburn rushed into the examining area. “Where did you see him?”
“He passed me in the hallway just now,” Bree said.
“Description?”
“Black jacket, maroon shirt. It was the older one, in his sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a blue baseball cap with a red C on it.” Bree shook her head in frustration. “I smiled at him because I didn’t realize who he was at first.”
“That’s a good thing,” the chief said. “He won’t know we’re onto him, and he won’t suspect that you recognized him.”
The chief spoke into the radio on his shoulder, giving instructions to his officers. He glanced at the nurse, “Room number?”
“Still checking.”
“Are you done with my sister, Chief, because I’d like to take her home,” Aiden said.
“I can’t leave,” she said.
“Breanna—”
“They moved him to room 214 on the second floor.” The nurse interrupted Aiden.
“Closest stairs?” the chief said.
“Around the corner on the left,” the nurse said.
Bree started to go with him, but the chief blocked her. “Please stay with your family where it’s safe.”
“I have to make sure he’s okay.”
“That’s our job.” He nodded at Aiden. “Take her to the waiting area, but don’t leave the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief spoke orders into his radio as he rushed out of the examining area. The doors closed behind him and Bree fingered her necklace.
“Hey,” Aiden said.
She glanced at him.
“Mom’s freaking out. You should probably...” He motioned towar
d the waiting area.
With a nod, she went to the door and pushed it open, facing her family and friends. Mom rushed to her and offered a loving hug, holding on as if she feared Bree might disappear. Understandable given Bree’s history. It had been almost two years since she had abruptly packed up and moved to the city on a quest for more excitement in her life. She had learned the hard way that excitement was overrated.
“I’m okay, Mom.” Bree broke the hug and squeezed Mom’s hands. “Really, I’m good.”
As the rest of the group started firing off questions, Bree put up her hand to silence them.
“I appreciate your support, especially you guys.” She nodded at the SAR K9 team members who’d come to the hospital: Grace, Trevor, Christopher and Luke.
“Bree, what happened?” Bree’s best friend, Billie, asked with worry in her eyes.
As Bree described the events of the past few hours, she watched her family and friends’ expressions change from disbelief to shock to concern.
“She did a brave thing,” Trevor offered.
“A potentially deadly brave thing,” Aiden said.
Tears welling in her eyes, Mom studied her daughter like she’d never seen her before.
Billie gave Bree a hug. “Quinn and I are headed to California on business tomorrow, but I think I should stay and keep you company.”
“No, don’t you dare stay back on my account. I’m fine.”
“That’s debatable,” Aiden muttered.
“What do you mean?” Mom said.
Aiden narrowed his eyes at Bree, probably expecting her to confess she’d developed an unhealthy and inappropriate connection to a stranger with a gunshot wound.
“I’m okay,” Bree confirmed. “No injuries.”
“Good, then we can go home,” Mom said, reaching out to take her hand.
“I can’t leave the hospital,” Bree said.
“Why not?” Mom asked.
“Here we go,” Aiden muttered.
“Chief Washburn asked me to stay, and even if he hadn’t, I want to be here for Mr. Smith when he wakes up.”
“Breanna—”
“Mom, he has no one, no friends, no family here at the hospital. He doesn’t even remember who he is. I was able to comfort him and he needs me.”