Derrick sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re not the type to share credit. And neither am I. Maybe if we were still together . . . but you dropped me for that idiot firefighter. Hope you like not being able to talk to him about your work and his having no college degree.”
He was referring to the pros and cons list. Derrick must have read it when he was snooping through her desk. And Sean had been so mad . . .
“Derrick, did you go through my desk? What did you do?” An angry fire burned in Annabelle’s chest. “You told Sean about . . . my personal . . . you . . . you had no right . . .”
He smiled condescendingly. “I was just helping the guy out. He should know what you really think of him.”
In addition to the anger towards Derrick, shame squirmed its way through her. Sean must think she was a horrible snob, high up on her intellectual horse, arrogant and disdainful . . . all the things she thought of Derrick. No wonder he’d broken it off. Annabelle felt like screaming in frustration and sorrow.
Annabelle wished she could call Sean to her, right this very instant, and explain herself.
Then she realized she could. She still had her phone in her hand. She could dial 911. And she could report Derrick as a thief—after all, he had her hard drive. She couldn’t let him get away with any of this.
First, though, she had to get out of Derrick’s office. “Derrick,” she said, struggling to remain calm, “let’s talk this over in the morning.” She edged toward the door and turned on her phone screen again, which had gone black.
Derrick said nothing. Didn’t move. He was tall, bulky in his cable-knit sweater, hands hanging at his sides.
“Okay?” she said. “Eight a.m. The coffee shop at the student union. We’ll come to some sort of resolution.”
While she held eye contact with Derrick, she pressed the “Emergency Call” on her phone.
She could hear it dialing, and so could Derrick. He glanced down at the phone in her hand, cocked his head, and screwed up his face in irritation.
At that moment, Annabelle made her break. She darted forward past him, ran out of the office, and turned to go down the hall. She heard a voice saying, “911, what’s your emergency?”
And then Annabelle felt a flash of white blinding pain, and the world went black.
31
Sean turned in for an early night at Station One. He was supposed to have started his four days off the previous day, but he’d picked up an overtime shift, figuring that if he was working, he might be able to avoid thinking about Annabelle.
The C-shift crew were good guys, not best friends like his regular A-shifters, but good guys nonetheless. However, Sean was feeling uncharacteristically unsociable, and so he retired to his bunkroom around seven and watched hockey videos on his phone. He ran across a few funny cat videos, too, and found himself wanting to send them to Annabelle.
He didn’t.
Eventually, he went to the kitchen for a glass of water and noticed that the dispatch center had kicked out a call for Engine Two, near the university. “Engine Two stage for PD, unknown caller from ASU, vicinity of the Bering Building.”
The Bering Building? Sean thought. That’s the glaciology department.
A spike of worry surged through him, and he dialed Annabelle immediately. His call went straight to voicemail. Either she was rejecting his call—quite possible—or else she was in trouble.
He couldn’t just hang out at the station if there was any possibility of Annabelle being in trouble, so he went to the engine captain, who was in the living room with the other two firefighters on the crew.
“Hey, do you mind if we take this call?” he asked.
“The stage call?” the captain asked, confused. It was rare to voluntarily jump in on another unit’s call, especially when it was probably a non-emergency.
If Sean were with his regular crew, they would have understood as soon as he said it sounded like it was the glaciology department. For C-shift he said, “This woman I’ve been seeing—that’s her building at the college.”
“Ah. Okay, sure.” The captain stood and got on the radio to tell dispatch that Engine One would take the call. Although they were further away than Engine Two, staging meant they were supposed to wait until the police department cleared the scene and determined the nature of the call first.
“This better be legit,” one of the firefighters joked to Sean as they got into the truck and pulled out of the bay. “We were in the middle of watching House Hunters, and now the ladder’s going to take over the TV while we’re gone!”
Any other time, Sean would have made a joke about their choice in television, but it barely even registered. All he could think about was Annabelle and how he couldn’t handle if it anything happened to her.
All looked quiet on campus when they arrived. Sean parked the fire truck in a large and mostly deserted parking lot a block away from the building. One police unit was already there, and the two patrol officers were inside looking for the caller.
Sean tried Annabelle’s phone once more, and again it went to voicemail. Then he tried the number that had sent him the pros and cons list, figuring it had to be someone in Annabelle’s circle and most likely Derrick. This number is not available, an automated greeting informed him.
After what felt like hours but was really only ten minutes, dispatch came on the radio. “Engine One, you’re released. PD can’t find the caller.”
That would normally be the end of it, but Sean wasn’t satisfied.
“Ask them if anyone’s in the building,” he said to the captain, who relayed the question.
“One scientist, but he said there was no problem and that he didn’t call.”
“What was his name?”
“Dude . . .” the captain muttered. To dispatch he radioed, “What was the scientist’s name?”
There was a pause from dispatch. “Not sure. PD is still there, they would know.”
Sean started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. He knew it was stupid and probably nothing, but he couldn’t shake the weird feeling. What were the odds of a random 911 call coming from Annabelle’s department after hours?
“Wrong way,” the captain said as Sean drove in the direction of the glaciology building.
“I know,” Sean said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve just got a hunch, and I want to talk to PD. Is that cool?”
The captain shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”
Sean parked the truck near the entrance to the building. The two police officers were standing outside their car, talking, and looked up, confused, at the sight of the firefighters.
Sean scanned the rest of the parking lot and saw Annabelle’s car parked a short distance away. Galvanized, he jumped out of the fire truck and jogged over to the officers.
“Hey, guys. Was the scientist you talked to a woman?” he asked.
Both officers shook their heads. “It was a man,” one said.
“Name?”
“I think it was Derrick.”
“Derrick McDonald,” the other confirmed, checking his notes.
“We need to go back in there,” Sean said. “I think someone’s in trouble.”
“Everything was quiet,” one officer said, the other nodding. “The guy insisted everything was fine, and we had no reason to think otherwise.”
“And no one else was there?”
“Just him.”
Sean pointed at Annabelle’s car. “Well, I know the woman who owns that car. She’s not answering her phone, and she used to date Derrick McDonald, who did not handle the breakup well. Do you mind taking one more look?”
The officers agreed, and Sean didn’t ask for permission to go with them, instead just following them into the building and to the glaciology department where they’d spoken to Derrick.
The officers knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Derrick opened it, his expression friendly until he caught sight of Sean.
“Hey, Derrick,” Sean said. “Where�
�s Annabelle?”
“I have no idea.”
“Really? Because her car’s parked outside.”
Derrick’s brow furrowed. “That’s weird. She’s definitely not here.”
“Mind if I come in and look for myself?” Sean was already pushing past Derrick.
“I thought you broke up,” Derrick said as he stepped aside, looking flustered.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Sean said as he scanned the room, heading to Annabelle’s office. “If she’s in trouble, I’m there for her.”
He tried the door to her office. It was unlocked, the office dark and empty. Sean turned on the light and saw that Annabelle’s coat was draped over her office chair and her keys were on her desk.
He emerged from Annabelle’s office and made a beeline for Derrick, grabbing him by the shirt. “Her keys are here. So’s her coat. Where is she?”
“Who knows? Geez!” Derrick pushed him off. Sean let him because the officers had stepped closer, ready to intervene, and Sean couldn’t afford to waste any time. “She’s probably getting coffee or something and forgot her keys.”
Derrick smoothed out his shirt and gave the officers an expectant look. As if they were supposed to protect him and had failed.
You’re no victim, Sean thought. Annabelle is. And damn it, I love her, and I’m not about to lose her.
“Where is she?” Sean asked in a low, hard voice, stepping toward Derrick again.
“Hey, now,” one of the officers said, holding up a hand. “Let’s all stay calm. Maybe she did just forget her keys.”
“Annabelle doesn’t forget things,” Sean said.
He started trying the doorknobs of the other offices. All were locked. He tried the next hallway. There was a room with equipment and a bank of computers, a conference room, a break room, and a room with a humming mainframe computer. Annabelle wasn’t in any of them. Finally, Sean came to a locked door that said, “Ice Core Lab,” and he got a horrible feeling in his gut. Someone had called 911 from this building, and the ice core lab was a place where trouble could amplify.
“Hey, Derrick!” he called. “Come open this door.”
Derrick glowered at him from the other end of the hallway, looking stubborn and jittery at the same time. “She’s not in there.”
He said it with too much certainty, Sean thought.
“I’d like to see for myself.”
The police officer standing next to Derrick gestured for him to unlock the door. Derrick made a reluctant walk down the hall and fished out a key card, swiping it once. The lock turned green.
Sean opened the door and entered a vestibule with a steel freezer door. Warning signs on the wall declared caution against the freezing temperatures inside. Hurriedly, Sean threw on a yellow parka and opened the steel door.
The lights were on inside, and a long row of cylindrical canisters stretched in front of him. Looking to the left and right, there were more rows, all holding the metal shapes like wine bottles in a cellar. Sean advanced down the first row. The bitter cold assaulted every inch of exposed skin on his hands and face.
“Annabelle!” he called.
There was no answer.
Sean’s radio crackled. “Hey, Sean, what’s the situation in there?” It was the captain, still waiting on the fire truck.
“I’m in the ice lab. We’re looking for someone in here—my friend is possibly the one who made the distress call. Her keys and coat are here.”
“Okay. Standing by.”
“Copy.” Sean was glad. If he needed help, the rest of the crew was seconds away.
“She’s not in here,” came Derrick’s voice from behind him, calling from the doorway. “All the coats were in place at the front, and it’d be suicide to come in here without a parka.”
Sean didn’t respond. He reached the end of the row and turned left, looking down the next row. It’s like the world’s coldest library, he thought, and he could imagine Annabelle working in here, breath fogging around her beautiful face, reading the ice core samples that spoke an ancient language. He saw both police officers struggling into parkas in the vestibule.
Down the next row he looked, and the next, and the next. All were empty. Up ahead he could see a workspace with equipment and scientific instruments. A few more rows and then—
Sean stopped.
Annabelle was sprawled face-down on the floor at the end of a row. Her golden-red curls spilled out across the concrete, and one delicate white hand was visible, curled and lifeless. An ice core sample lay on the floor next to her, canister open, the thick roll of ice at her feet.
No, no, no, Sean thought as he ran to her. Time seemed to stretch like taffy as he approached her, like a nightmare where he couldn’t move fast enough.
She wasn’t wearing any cold gear, just jeans and a thin sweater. Sean rolled her over gently. Her lips were blue and her eyes closed. Feeling his own heart pounding in fear, he brought his fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse . . . he watched her chest, waiting for a rise and fall . . . there was no time to waste . . .
He shouted at the police officers who were in earshot. “Call a code!”
There it was, a hopeful flutter beneath his fingers. Annabelle’s heart was working, although her pulse was almost too slow and too faint to detect.
He kissed her cold cheek. “Stay with me, Annabelle.”
Sean got on his own radio. “Captain, call dispatch for an adult code. Hypothermia and possible head injury.”
The captain came back at once. “Copy a code. We’ll bring the gear now. What’s your location?”
“First floor, glaciology department ice core lab. Last row on the right.”
Sean made sure Annabelle’s head and neck were in a stable position, and then he started chest compressions, hard, relentless, keeping the pace he’d done so many times. He knew he might be breaking her ribs to do it, but that didn’t matter. He had to keep her heart beating—his own heart depended on it.
The police officers came upon the scene. “Looks like she might have slipped on that ice core,” one said.
“She didn’t get here on her own.” Sean spoke while he worked, already breathing heavily. “Derrick McDonald’s responsible. I know it.”
The officers left, presumably to find Derrick, and Sean’s world narrowed to Annabelle. Her skin was alarmingly pale, and he prayed with every chest compression that she woke up.
Once the rest of the crew arrived, things happened quickly. When the other firefighter paramedic took over doing compressions, Sean bent to Annabelle’s ear, caressing her face. “Annabelle. Wake up. Please, honey. Wake up.”
He heard the ambulance outside, screaming toward them code three. The crew arrived and lifted Annabelle’s petite body onto a gurney, covering most of it with a space blanket. Once she was in the ambulance, Sean took over compressions again and pounded on her heart, on her chest, hating the violence of it, pleading with her body to keep working. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, give her all the warmth he had. The ambulance raced toward the hospital. Thankfully, it was just a few minutes away.
Then they were wheeling her into the ER, and Sean found himself in the unbearable position of waiting to see if Annabelle would survive.
32
It was the pins and needles Annabelle noticed first. Extraordinarily painful pins and needles, and she wanted to make a noise, to speak, and that was when she noticed her throat was also very sore. With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes to a bright white room.
She wondered if she were dead. But no, it wouldn’t make sense to have a sore throat if that were the case. When she’d fallen into the crevasse, it was the fact of how cold she was that told her she was still very much alive. So the sore throat was a good thing.
As the room came into focus, it became clear that she was in the hospital and had an IV bag hanging at her side. But why? What had happened?
“You’re awake!” said a familiar voice. “Thank God!”
Mom
, Annabelle thought. She blinked, turned her head to the left, and saw her worried mother’s face smiling at her.
“Hi, sweetie.” Susan brushed a strand of Annabelle’s hair gently off her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Horrible,” Annabelle said, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper. In addition to the pins and needles in her extremities, she had an awful headache and an odd sensation of all-over fragility. “What happened? I was in my office. At the lab, and I . . . I can’t remember after that. Was I in a car accident on the way home?”
“They found you in the freezer at your lab,” Susan said, shaking her head as if she’d always known this would happen one day. “You must have slipped and fell and hit your head. You were knocked unconscious, and then you got hypothermia because you weren’t dressed properly. You’re very fortunate they got to you in time.” Her eyes teared. “We really almost lost you. Thank goodness for that Kelly boy. Well, I guess I should say that Kelly man. He’s really grown into quite the hunk, Annabelle.”
“He always was,” Annabelle said, thinking back to his high school handsomeness. And he always will be. “Sean found me?”
Susan nodded. “You called 911 so you must have known you were in trouble. Sean found you.” She craned her neck to look out in the hall. “He’s here somewhere. Sleeping in the lounge, most likely. He stayed with you all night, and then when I got here about an hour ago, I persuaded him to go take a nap.”
Annabelle tried to sit up. She wanted to go to him. Wanted—needed—his arms around her. But her mom laid her hand on her shoulder.
“Try not to move,” Susan said. “Your circulation is still poor.”
Annabelle didn’t have the energy, anyway. “Is Dad here, too?”
“I left a message for him to come up as soon as they get back in port, which might not be for a few weeks. He and your brother are already out on the fishing boat for the season.”
“My throat hurts.”
“They had to put a tube in.”
“Oh, so like—”
Forget Me Not (Golden Falls Fire Book 4) Page 22