by Lisa Harris
“She’s gone.” Nate stared out across the dark water. “One minute she was there next to me and the next . . . I don’t know what happened.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Her name’s Gracie. I hadn’t seen her for years. Our paths crossed on this case.”
“How did you know her?”
“Back in college we were pretty good friends.”
“There’s still a chance she’s alive out there.”
“You’ve always been an optimist, Cameron, but I’m so tired of life snatching away people I care about.”
He knew he wasn’t making sense, but he didn’t care. What he really wanted to do was tell the man that he couldn’t understand loss. But he knew that wasn’t true. Cameron understood loss more than most people.
Nate bit the inside of his lip. He didn’t need to talk, he needed to do something. Everything about this situation reminded him of what he’d lost three months ago, and if he could stop this, maybe he could stop the helplessness and vulnerability he still felt.
“Sorry, I’m not exactly in the mood to talk,” he said, cupping his hands around the hot drink. “I need to be out there looking for Gracie, but instead I’m stuck here, watching in the background.”
“You’ve been through a lot these past few weeks. I imagine this is a reminder you’d rather do without.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Cameron.” He didn’t even try to stop the flare of anger.
“Nate, I’m here to help. Nothing else.”
“Then convince the captain that I should be out there helping find her. Not sitting on the sidelines.”
“Those guys looking for her know what they’re doing. They’ll find her.”
“You don’t know that.”
Nate glanced down at the man’s prosthesis, regretting the sharp words as soon as they came out of his mouth. On the outside, except for his slight limp, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell what the man had gone through. Half a dozen surgeries and a year-plus of therapy had come with its own demons to tame. Nate knew that living in a fallen world meant tragedies would happen—his career choice had taught him that. But it couldn’t ease the agony of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Nate said, setting his half-empty drink down beside him.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. This can’t be easy on you.”
He wanted to blame God. Blame anyone. Or if nothing else, turn back the clock so none of this happened. His decisions had brought Gracie into this, and now there was a good chance she wasn’t coming out of that water alive.
And it was his fault.
He shifted his gaze back to Cameron. “I should never have done this.”
“Done what, Nate?”
“Come back to work.”
“You weren’t ready?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, but what’s the point? I risk my life and for what? So a bunch of evil people who don’t care about anyone can wreak havoc and end up ruining other people’s lives. It doesn’t matter how much we do or how hard I work to stop them. Because you know what happens when we stop them? Someone else takes their place. And then someone after that one and someone after that one. And for what? If she’s dead, she died for nothing.”
“I don’t know how this is going to end, but you are right about one thing. There will always be evil in this world.”
“Man’s free will. I know. But that’s an awfully convenient excuse for God to be able to blame man for something he could stop if he wanted to.”
“Maybe you see it that way because you forgot one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s another side. We will escape the evil of this world one day. Jesus already won the battle on the cross.”
Cameron’s words threatened to seep past the hardened exterior Nate had formed around his heart. He’d grown up in church. Learned to sing the books of the Bible and quote dozens of memory verses. But all that wasn’t enough at the moment. Today had placed him in the middle of a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight anymore.
He glanced up and caught Cameron’s gaze. “What you’re saying may happen in the distant future, but that doesn’t erase the grief of right now.”
“No, it doesn’t. And yet while everything around you seems to be falling apart, I have no doubt that God is still working. He’s still in control as he works out his plan for humanity. A plan that is so much bigger than you and me.”
“And in the meantime, I’m supposed to what? Keep beating my head against the wall while people around me keep dying?”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Cameron said. “Every day you see the worst of humanity. Then on top of that, the news cycle reflects more bad news. It’s easy to forget that there’s good out there as well. Not everyone’s intent is evil.”
“Maybe, but that won’t bring Gracie back.”
Nate stared out across the water. A boat light flashed in the distance, but so far none of them seemed to be coming back to the shore. Where was she?
“What happened to your shoulder?” Cameron asked.
He looked down at where part of the blanket had slid down his arm. “It’s nothing. I cut myself on the back window of the car.”
“You’re starting to bleed through the bandage. I can call over one of the paramedics—”
Nate grabbed his arm. “Please . . . It’s fine.”
Cameron shoved his hands into his coat pockets and faced Nate. “There is something you’ve missed in all of this.”
Nate sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. “What?”
“Every person at this scene right now is fighting to save a young woman’s life. And they’ll do it, even if it means risking their own lives. And you do make a difference.” Cameron didn’t wait for him to respond. “Every time you go out on the streets, you make a difference. You stop those who have broken the law from doing it again.”
“But what about those I can’t stop? Like the ones who killed Ashley and maybe Gracie?” He could feel the battle for his heart raging within him, pressing in against his chest. “Tell me where God is right now.”
“Right where he’s always been. It doesn’t matter what is happening around you. He is here.”
Nate shook his head. “I just don’t know anymore. I’ve seen too much brokenness.”
“So has he, Nate.”
The pastor’s words sent a chill down Nate’s spine. He turned away and stared back out over the dark lake. If anyone was going to die tonight, it should have been him. Not her.
“She lost her daughter,” he said, finally. “Her husband walked out on her. And now she ends up dying in the dark. Alone.”
“You really care about her, don’t you?”
He pulled the blanket closer around him. When did it get so cold? “She made me remember a time when I had faith in the world. When I believed I could take on the devil himself and win. But now . . . if I lose her, it’s like all of that is lost again. Because what’s the point of any of this? We live, we love, we hurt, we die, but in the end . . . there’s just so much pain.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Nate. You need to give yourself time to work through what you’re feeling.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but I’m not sure I know how.” Some days he felt too fractured and broken to be able to move on. “What am I supposed to do?”
“What you’ve done all this time. Keep praying. Keep searching. I might be a pastor, but I’ll be the first to claim I don’t have all the answers.”
“And right now?” Nate asked.
He knew the reality of the situation. The water temperature was probably around sixty, maybe sixty-five. If they did find her alive, there was a chance she could survive, but exhaustion or unconsciousness would come quickly. They needed to find her.
“I think it’s time we both prayed for a miracle.”
Nate bowed his head and felt a sense of peace surround him for the first time in days. A minute later, s
omeone shouted from the shoreline. He opened his eyes. A boat was coming in fast. He started toward the water. They were pulling her out of the boat. Rushing her toward the ambulance.
“Nate . . .” Paige was there, running toward him. “She’s alive, but they need to take her to the hospital now.”
Nate turned to the pastor. “Do you mind giving me a ride?”
“Not at all, let’s go.”
An hour later, Nate paced the empty hospital waiting room. He was still so cold. Even with the dry clothes and jacket they’d picked up at Cameron’s in-laws’ on the way, he was still shivering and had yet to warm up. Or maybe it wasn’t just the cold water he’d been in that had him shaken to the core.
A woman stepped into the room with a large canvas bag slung over her shoulder and a plastic water bottle in her hand. Nate worked to place the familiar face.
“Becca Long?” He stood up and walked toward her. “I’m Detective Quinn. We met at Gracie’s house yesterday.”
“Of course. I just got a message that she’d been in an accident. Something about her car going into the water. I had to have my husband drive me here, my hands are still shaking so bad. He’s . . . he’s parking the car.” She drew in a deep breath. “Please tell me she’s okay.”
“I haven’t been able to see her since they took her in there, but I do know that she was conscious and talking.”
“Okay . . . wow. That’s a good sign.” She dropped her purse on the floor and slumped down onto one of the chairs. “This all seems so surreal. Seems like we were just planning my son’s birthday party and now . . . She could be dead.”
“I know.” He sat down across from her. “They’re working on warming up her core temperature and making sure all of her vitals are stabilized.”
“So she’ll be okay?”
“She has to be.”
“How did this happen? She told me she had police protection outside her house last night, so I didn’t need to worry.”
Nate hesitated. “I took her with me to interview a witness in the case—”
“That homicide case? Are you crazy?” Becca bolted upright in her chair. “We’re not talking about some misdemeanor. We’re talking murder. Why in the world did you let her go with you?”
“Trust me, if I had known that taking her would end like this, I wouldn’t have let her go with me. This . . . none of this was supposed to happen.”
“Then why did it?”
He wished suddenly he hadn’t told Cameron he could go back to his in-laws’ anniversary party so the pastor could answer the woman’s questions. But maybe it was okay if he didn’t have all the answers.
“I don’t know.”
Her gaze seemed to pierce right through him. “She’s not a cop. She’s a psychologist. And after everything she’s been through, she didn’t need to be out there on police business.”
“I know, and this is completely my fault.” He had no desire to rationalize what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. There was no way to explain just how wrong everything had gone. But it had.
“I’m sorry.” She waved a hand in the air. “I shouldn’t yell at you. I’m just upset. I know Grace well enough to realize all of this was probably her idea. That’s who she is. I just can’t imagine losing her.”
“How long have you known her?” he asked.
“We met at the gym before she moved out east. We ended up bonding over kale smoothies, and she became like a sister to me. I was going through a difficult time in my marriage, and she seemed to always know what to say.”
“She’s always been like that. I’m guessing that’s why she became a psychologist.”
She let out a low laugh, then pressed her lips together. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”
“I met her in college. Back then, though, I was close friends with Kevin. I guess you knew him?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t a bad person, but man, he made some bad choices. I guess difficult circumstances stretch people, make them consider doing things they never would have imagined otherwise.”
“Tell me about it.” He’d never even thought about walking away from his job. Not until tonight. Now, somehow, walking away had become a desirable option. Gracie had managed to become his breaking point.
Nate stood up as a doctor stepped into the room.
“You’re the detective here waiting for Ms. Callahan?”
“Yes . . . is she okay?”
“She’s going to be fine. I’m sorry to have taken so long. Her core body temperature is back to normal range. Any longer in that water could have been a lot more serious. We’re going to keep her overnight for observation.”
“What about Macbain?”
“He’s going to be fine as well.”
“Can we see Grace?” Becca asked.
“Your name?”
“Becca Long.”
The doctor nodded. “She’s in room 312. You’ve both been cleared to see her, just don’t stay too long. She’s going to need to get some rest over the next few days.”
A minute later, Nate walked past the officer standing guard over room 312, then stopped in the doorway while Becca marched in. He stood, watching Gracie for a moment before he said anything. How had she managed to break through the walls of his heart in such a short time?
Gracie gave her friend a hug, then glanced up at the doorway. “Nate?”
“Hey.” He moved to the end of the bed, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“They told me that you and Macbain are okay.”
“We are, though you had us worried for a while.” He studied her face. It was pale and there was a bruise on her right cheek, but other than that she looked fine. “One minute I had you in my grasp and a second later . . . you were gone.”
“The current dragged me out, but there were a couple guys out on a boat who found me struggling. Ended up saving my life.”
“I thought I lost you.” He felt his voice crack. “I never should have let you get involved in this.”
“If I remember correctly, I was the one who insisted on coming. What happened to your shoulder?”
“It’s nothing. Just a scratch.” He glanced down at his stained shirt and noticed that his injury was starting to bleed again, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. “You’re the one I’m worried about. I’m so, so sorry this happened.”
Becca held up her hands. “Why don’t you both stop blaming yourselves and just be thankful that you’re both safe. If you ask me, that’s all that really matters right now.”
He nodded at Becca. “You’re right.” Then he turned again to Gracie. He needed to change the subject. Ensure that nothing personal was said, because that wasn’t a place he was prepared to go. “Listen, my boss told me I could stay until I knew you were okay, but I’ve got to go back to work and finish up some paperwork.”
“I am okay. Really.”
“If it’s not too late when I’m done, I’ll try to stop by on my way home.”
Gracie smiled up at him. “I’d like that.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later then.”
He rushed out, feeling more like a fool than a proficient officer following up on a case. Because somehow he’d already allowed this case to become too personal.
20
A couple hours later, Nate strode through the darkened halls of the hospital with a gift for Gracie in his hand. It was well past visiting hours, but the nurse at the desk had told him Gracie was awake, and as long as he promised not to stay long, he could see her. She’d also given him permission to bring her a surprise. He heard monitors beeping as he walked down the hallway to number 312. He’d checked with CSU at the crime scene, but they hadn’t come up with any leads. Which meant they were no closer to finding out who’d shoved them into the water. It was always possible that a lead would turn up—especially come morning, with daylight, they might be able to find something.
But for the moment, it felt as if the death of Stephen Shaw had signaled the beginning of a chain
of events that was rapidly spiraling out of control. If Macbain’s assumption was right, and they were looking at someone trying to take down the grid, the impending result would be devastating, not just to the state of Texas, but to the entire country and beyond.
Pushing aside his concerns for the moment, he stopped at the door of Gracie’s room, showed the guard his ID, then stepped into the room. She lay on her side in bed, and he was unsure if she was still awake or not. Her dark-blonde hair lay fanned out across the pillow. An IV was attached to her arm, and monitors quietly gauged her vitals in the background. Ten years had seemed to ground her, and even the losses she’d experienced hadn’t completely taken away the spirited woman he remembered. And as far as he was concerned, she looked just as beautiful as she had back in college. But that wasn’t the only thing that had his heart pushing him in a direction he had no desire to go.
He was reminded of how close he’d come to losing her today. How much it mattered to him personally that she stayed safe. And how a part of him was enjoying getting to know her all over again. He drew in a slow breath, trying to settle his conflicting emotions. Maybe he should wait to see her tomorrow. He turned around.
“Nate . . . ?”
He stopped and turned back toward her.
She pulled herself up to a sitting position, readjusting the pillow behind her. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. I wasn’t sure if you were awake.”
“I’m tired, but finding it hard to sleep. I can’t stop my mind from racing.”
“Are you feeling up to a visitor for a few minutes?”
“Definitely.”
“I know you should probably be sleeping, but selfishly I’m glad you’re still awake. I just wanted to check on you. See how you’re doing before I head home for the night.”
“That’s sweet of you. I’m fine, but as you know, they’re making me stay overnight for observation, even after I insisted I’d be fine going home.”
“They’re right.” He sat down next to her on the side of the bed and handed her two pudding cups. “I wanted to buy you some flowers in the gift shop, but it’s closed. I did manage to talk one of the women running the cafeteria into getting me these.”