One Final Breath

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  Gabe tried to adjust his position on the bed. His entire chest and arm ached.

  “Are you okay?” Anissa was by his side.

  “Yeah. Just achy. No big deal.”

  “Right.” Anissa’s sarcasm game was solid, but she softened her tone as she continued. “I still don’t understand why you felt like you had to run.”

  “The gang,” he said. “The ones who had avoided prosecution were furious. They put up pictures of all the kids and Mama all over the community. Threatened revenge. After what they’d done to Mama and to Mikey, we were advised by the authorities to take the threat seriously. Two of my brothers already lived elsewhere. I was graduating, so it made sense to move along. The rest of my siblings scattered too. Mama lives with my sister in California now.”

  “That seems reasonable,” Anissa said. “And not like running away so much as doing the smart thing.”

  “I should have been there,” he said. “I should have seen it coming and stopped it. I knew Mikey had been in with a bad gang, but I missed the signs. I failed him. I failed Mama, Papa, and my entire family. They’d given me everything and I couldn’t stop it. And now we’re scattered all over the world and this amazing thing that these two incredible people did is just gone. We should all get together for cookouts and pool parties and Mother’s Day, but we don’t. I send her a card.” He looked away from Anissa. “A stupid card. And I call her on her birthday. She’s in her nineties now, and I haven’t seen her in three years. Which is another way I’ve failed. I’ve never been able to figure out how to do family. Papa knew. Mama knew. But I don’t. I don’t know how to make it work.”

  He struggled to pull in a deep breath. The effort shot arrows of pain through his torso. Why had he decided now was a good time to tell Anissa this stuff? Now, when he was stuck in a blasted bed and couldn’t get away from the soft look on her face, the tears glistening on her lashes, the hand that now clung to his.

  “That’s why I wanted to work with gangs. Why I risked everything going undercover. I don’t need a therapist to explain it. I don’t have a pathological need to experience danger or anything. I’m just trying, always, to make up for my messes. Trying to do enough to be worth the sacrifice they made. To make a difference that will somehow make it all worthwhile.”

  13

  How had she ever thought he was shallow?

  Anissa squeezed Gabe’s hand. Lord, what do I say to this? How do I help him?

  “Gabe—”

  A knock on the door interrupted her. She wasn’t sorry. She still didn’t know what to say. She stood and rested her hands behind her back in what she hoped looked like a casual stance.

  Gabe flashed a smile at the young woman who entered with a tray of food.

  “I have breakfast for you, sir,” she said with a bright smile. “I think it’s eggs and a biscuit. And coffee.”

  “Is it fit to eat?” Gabe shot a playful glare at the girl and she giggled.

  “Probably not, but it won’t kill you.”

  Gabe snorted. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

  The girl giggled again. “Have a good day, sir. Ma’am.” She exited and Gabe shoved the tray away. “I cannot eat that. It’s Leigh’s fault. I used to be able to eat anything. Food was fuel. Didn’t have to taste good. But now? I want fancy omelets and real coffee and fresh fruit for breakfast.”

  “Or biscuits and sausage gravy,” Anissa said.

  “Yes. Or cinnamon rolls.”

  “Mmm.” Leigh’s homemade cinnamon rolls were what would happen if someone took poetry and turned it into food.

  Gabe got a glint in his eye. “Ryan’s going to get fat.”

  Their eyes met and they laughed.

  “Want me to go downstairs and get you a real coffee?” Anissa asked.

  “No,” Gabe said.

  Had he meant to say that out loud? He had a look on his face like maybe he hadn’t.

  Anissa didn’t know what to say or where to go or what to do with her hands. She walked over to the window and stared at the top of a nearby building. Help me out, Lord. She waited. So often she was guilty of praying and then not giving God a chance to answer her. She watched a bird land on the edge of the roof and then stroll along like it was no big deal to walk around six stories high. What would it be like to be unafraid of falling?

  She had no idea. Because she knew one thing for sure. She was falling for Gabe.

  And she was terrified.

  It had been a long night.

  He’d left the backpack. Called in the bomb threat.

  Waited. She would come outside in a stream of people, all fleeing the bomb that wasn’t there. In the chaos, he would finally have a shot at her. A nice up-close-and-personal shot.

  But she never came. No one ever came.

  He saw the bomb squad pull up. Saw them leave.

  But no mass exodus of patients and scrub-clad nurses and staff.

  He waited until the sun came up before he accepted that it wasn’t going to happen.

  What was it going to take to get to her? Maybe it was time to change his strategy.

  If he couldn’t get to her, maybe it was time to make her come to him.

  There was no chance to revisit the conversation from the early morning hours. Gabe’s room had turned into Grand Central as soon as the sun was up. Leigh had taken pity on them and brought them chicken biscuits and sweet tea. Dr. Sloan had come by. Then the captain.

  That visit had been a bit awkward at first, but if the captain wondered why two of his homicide investigators were spending so much time together, he didn’t mention it. He stayed five minutes, told them both to be careful, and excused himself when a nurse came in.

  Between the visitors, the texts, and the phone calls, Anissa didn’t have time to worry about bombs or knives or even cryptosporidium outbreaks. When her phone rang, again, she held it out to Gabe. “Do you think anyone would notice if I threw this out the window?”

  He frowned at his own phone. “If you find a way to open that window, I’ll give you mine and you can chuck them both.”

  “Deal.”

  When 11:00 a.m. rolled around, Anissa was ecstatic to have something specific to do. “I need to go see Paisley,” she said.

  Gabe clasped his hands together. “Take me with you. Please. I will go crazy if one more nurse, or technician, or janitor, or pretty much anyone else comes in here. It wouldn’t be wise to leave me alone. I was stabbed. I’m probably unstable. I might snap.”

  His mock seriousness made her laugh. “You want to go see Paisley? You really are desperate.”

  “Exactly. And I am. I cannot stand another second in this room.”

  Another knock on the door. For real? Anissa’s distaste for hospitals was roaring back. How could anyone ever get better in a place like this?

  But this time it was Gabe’s nurse. They hadn’t seen her in almost three hours. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes had a frustrated glaze. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’m a good nurse, and I’m sorry you’re not getting more attention from me. But I know you’re here”—she nodded at Anissa—“and I’m trusting you to let me know if there’s an emergency. We’re covered up with patients. They keep moving all kinds of people to the floor who don’t belong here, but we’ve got to put them somewhere. This stomach bug business is nasty. If you want my advice, as soon as Dr. Price comes to see you this afternoon, beg him to let you out.”

  “When do you think we’ll see Dr. Price?” Anissa asked.

  “He usually makes rounds after two.”

  “Would it be okay for us to take a little excursion as long as we’re back by one?” Gabe smiled at the nurse. Anissa recognized that smile. That was his “I’m adorable and you’re going to let me do whatever I want” smile.

  The nurse glanced at the IV dripping antibiotics into Gabe’s veins. “What kind of excursion?”

  “We have a young friend on the pediatric floor. We thought we might pay her a visit.”

  The nurs
e fixed her gaze on Anissa. “A friend?”

  “Yes.” Anissa knew the moment the nurse caved.

  “Fine. Just to Pediatrics. No wandering around anywhere else. Straight there. Straight back.”

  Gabe raised three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  The nurse laughed as she disconnected all the IV tubing and adjusted the sling around Gabe’s left arm. “If you pass out, don’t blame me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  The nurse turned to Anissa. “Let me know when he’s safely back.”

  “I will.”

  Walk slowly. Anissa imagined she was at a wedding. She took a quick look at Gabe. Wait. No. Wrong image. Not a wedding. A graduation. That was better. She stole another glance. He was hanging in there. His breathing was even. No sweat beaded on his face. He was fine. Still, she would have preferred him to take this trip in a wheelchair rather than on his own two feet, but that had been a losing battle from the moment she first mentioned it.

  They reached the pediatric wing of the hospital, all shiny and new and a bit over-the-top in its attempt at cheeriness. At least in Anissa’s mind. But then, she’d been in this hospital for over twenty-four hours now without going outside. She’d survived but not thrived. But she had laughed. More than once. And that was significant progress.

  They rounded the corner and she skidded to a stop. It was her. Right there. The girl. Liz? Or Jillian? It couldn’t be. But . . . maybe?

  She tried to lean against the wall and act like she hadn’t stopped for no reason. She was certain she hadn’t succeeded, but Gabe pulled it off with ease.

  “Anissa.” He spoke in a light, conversational, almost playful tone. “Would you care to let me know why you decided to pause here? There’s a waiting room thirty feet away.”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she risked another look at the girl. The girl was leaning against the nurses station, laughing. Eyes clear. Skin pale, but not as pale as it had been two—had it only been two?—days ago. She was drinking from a bottle of water, and Anissa wanted nothing more in that moment than to get that bottle and send it off for prints and DNA.

  Gabe removed his arm from hers, cleared his throat . . . and went straight to the nurses station. What was he doing?

  “Hello, ladies, oh, and gentleman.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “How is everyone this lovely morning?” Murmured responses floated back to Anissa, where she stood as if stuck to the wall with superglue. She forced herself away from the wall and approached the nurses station.

  He turned to Liz/Jillian. “I see you’re rocking the same designer threads I am. We really must speak to the management. This is so embarrassing.” He tsked in mock horror. “I was assured no one else would be wearing the same dress, and look at you. Although I must say, you’ll win the ‘who wore it better contest’ for sure.” Gabe’s accent had crept back into his speech, the way it did when he was flirting, or showing off, or . . . well, being Gabe.

  Liz/Jillian laughed. So did everyone else within hearing distance.

  Gabe extended his hand. “Gabe Chavez.”

  “Liz Brown.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” He dipped his head and flashed a smile so radiant Anissa caught her breath from ten feet away. If Gabe wasn’t careful, Liz/Jillian would have a crush on him by the time he said goodbye.

  “Likewise.” Her skin had a decidedly pink glow to it.

  Anissa could see it on the girl’s face. The way she smiled. She was already smitten.

  Get in line, girlfriend.

  Paisley stepped out of a door at the end of the hall, a large bag slung over her shoulder. She smiled when she saw Gabe. Or was she smiling at Liz? “Investigator Chavez, I see you’ve met the ray of sunshine here on the third floor. She’s probably well enough to go home, but no one wants to lose their daily dose of Liz.”

  “Investigator?” Liz asked with eyes wide and intense. If she had any fear of Gabe as an investigator, she hid it well. “What kind of investigator?”

  Gabe shrugged off her question. “Oh, all sorts of things. Earlier today I was called on to investigate the disappearance of a dozen chocolate donuts. I knew immediately that they had been absconded with by none other than my friend here.” He pointed to Anissa. “But since she’s also an investigator, she had covered her tracks well.”

  Anissa looked from Liz to Paisley and gave them her best “what are you gonna do?” look. “Do I look like a donut thief to you?”

  Liz laughed. Paisley smiled.

  “It’s always the innocent-looking ones.” The dramatic sigh that accompanied Gabe’s pronouncement had Liz laughing even harder.

  Anissa bit back a gasp. When Liz/Jillian laughed . . . she’d heard that laugh before.

  But it couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  And if it was possible. If this precious child standing here who looked like a grown-up Jillian, and who laughed like Jillian’s mother, if Liz really was Jillian . . . what would that mean for all of them?

  “I’m Liz,” the girl said, hand outstretched.

  Anissa took her hand. “Anissa Bell.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say “nice to meet you.”

  She had a strange feeling that she already had.

  Gabe leaned against the nurses station. That walk had probably been a mistake, but there was no way he was going to ride in a wheelchair.

  He eyed the water bottle young Liz was playing with. He wanted that water bottle in the worst way. But how could he get it?

  Paisley flashed that TV smile of hers at Liz. “Liz, love. Is there any chance I could presume upon your kindness once more and get you to watch Parent Trap with Brooke for a few minutes while I talk to the investigators?”

  “Oh, are you working on a news story, Ms. Paisley? How exciting!” Liz oozed energy and joy. Gabe didn’t dare look at Anissa in this moment. If she was right, if this child was the missing Jillian from thirteen years ago, what would this do to her? To the family who had raised her to be this delightful young woman? To the parents who, he had no doubt, had never stopped loving and praying for her to be safe and someday returned to them?

  No one could win in this situation.

  If Liz was Jillian, they were bound to reunite her with her parents and prosecute whoever had taken her from them. But the cost would be high.

  For everyone.

  Liz, still smiling, moved in the direction of Brooke’s room. And took her water bottle with her. Lord, it would be awesome if she tossed that thing in the trash can in Brooke’s room. Just saying.

  “You know, Parent Trap is one of my favorites,” Liz said. “You’re doing me a favor.”

  Everyone watched Liz as she walked down the short hallway and said, “Hey, Brooke, your sister said you were watching Parent Trap. Mind if I join you?”

  Paisley exchanged a knowing look with the nursing staff. One that set off all of Gabe’s internal warning sensors.

  “What’s the deal with Liz?” Anissa asked the question. She must have seen the look too.

  The nurses shook their heads. “We can’t talk about it. Patient confidentiality.” An older lady, June, nodded at Paisley. “But she can.”

  “Yes, I can,” Paisley said. “But not here. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”

  “If y’all need to talk, there’s a conference room you can use,” June said. “The doctors use it when they need to talk to the parents.” She pointed to her left. “Five doors down. It should be unlocked.”

  “Thank you, June.” Paisley smiled at June in a way that was warm and appeared to be authentic. Maybe she wasn’t as awful as he’d always assumed she was. Maybe.

  The trio made their way to the conference room. Gabe waited until they were in the room to speak. “The nurses look exhausted.”

  “They are,” Paisley said. “Every room is in use. Kids with horrible stomach issues. Several of them from the same camp Liz was at. Several of them don’t have parents here yet, which makes it more complicated for everyone.” She paused.
“I’m glad Brooke is out of the PICU, but I need to get her home and away from this mess. And I don’t think Liz should be on this floor either. I heard one of the nurses saying they were asking the doctors if they could get her out of here. Not because they don’t want her, but because they’re afraid she’ll get sick again. And another round of crypto could do serious damage to her.”

  “What’s the story on Liz?” Gabe attempted to ask the question in the most nonchalant way possible. He didn’t even make eye contact with Paisley, but instead pulled out a chair for Anissa before walking around the table to sit across from her and Paisley.

  When Paisley didn’t answer right away, he risked looking straight at her. She was sitting now, staring at the table and taking slow, deep breaths through her nose. Was she trying not to cry?

  “I’m sorry,” she said as the tears spilled over. “It’s just . . . it’s awful.”

  Anissa, typical Anissa, grabbed a tissue and handed it to Paisley with one hand while she put her arm around her. “Tell us what’s going on,” she said.

  Paisley dabbed at her eyes, pinched her lips together, and straightened her shoulders. With a little shake of her head, she pulled herself back together. “Her mother is sick . . . really sick . . . and Liz doesn’t know.”

  Gabe sat down hard, too hard, in his chair. Pain radiated through his chest and a small grunt escaped. That earned him a concerned frown from Anissa, but he waved it off. Who cared about a little residual stabbing discomfort when that radiant young woman down the hall was facing more turmoil than she could possibly imagine?

  Anissa was the first one to recover from the shock of Paisley’s pronouncement. “How do you know?”