by Willow Rose
Then the umbrella hit something.
There was something about the sound a human body made when being hit with an object. It was one you’d recognize anywhere. I knew I would, and at this moment, I did.
I reached out my hands and felt to be certain. My fingers touched clothing. The feeling was sickening. There was no mistake; this was a person, a body. The question was whether this person was still alive.
I grabbed ahold of the body and pulled it up on my back, then began to carry it out through the thick smoke. The body was heavy, a lot heavier than you’d think. I grabbed the arms to hold it steady, but the burned skin slipped off, and I couldn’t hold on properly. I crawled forward toward the door with the body on my back, crying because my eyes burned so badly, but also because of all the emotions in this instant, not knowing if this person was dead or alive.
Once I reached the porch, I fell forward onto the wood and heard voices around me. People were yelling something that I couldn’t understand. Soon, black boots and yellow uniforms had surrounded me, and the weight was lifted off my back while other hands then grabbed me and lifted me as well. The last thing I saw was the ground disappearing right before I passed out.
Chapter 34
Jean went with Harry in the ambulance. Her heart was throbbing in her chest as she watched him on the stretcher. He was breathing, yes, but he was completely out. Jean had seen many patients in her life as a nurse come in after a fire, then die shortly afterward. Usually, it was from inhaling carbon monoxide or other poisonous gases from burning synthetic materials on furniture or having the insides of their breathing passages burned. Harry had been inside of that burning house for way too long, without being equipped for it. It wasn’t just dangerous; it was stupid and so typical of Harry.
Risking his life for some complete stranger.
It made her so angry that he’d do that. But she couldn’t really be mad at him, could she? How could she be mad at a hero?
As they arrived at the hospital, Jean ran inside with them. It was strange to be on the other side in a situation like this, seeing her colleagues come running out, grabbing the stretcher, and rushing off with him. The ambulance with the woman Harry pulled out had arrived shortly before them, and she knew they were already fighting to save her life. She had heard the paramedics yell that she was still alive right before she was rushed into the ambulance. The question was for how long. Jean had seen the damage the fire had done to her body. She had been severely burned on most of her body, and Jean knew her chances were slim, very slim.
Jean was shown inside by her colleague, Tina, into the waiting room. It was so eerily silent in there, more than what Jean could bear. Time seemed to stand completely still. She stared at her phone while tapping her leg, then called Harry’s dad. He didn’t pick up. She tried again, but it went straight to voicemail. She knew he had a landline, but she didn’t have that number. Jean sighed, then tried again before giving up. She knew Harry’s dad, old Pastor Bernard, liked to go to bed early, and once he did, there was no waking him. Jean stared at the phone, then found Josie’s number and was about to call her when she stopped herself. How could she explain this to the girl? They had been through so much lately, and she was not supposed to get too agitated with her new heart and all.
I need to know he’s all right first. I need to have something to tell her.
Jean rubbed her forehead, then walked into the hallway, looking for anyone she could talk to. A nurse or a doctor, someone who could tell her if Harry was okay or not. It felt like she had been in that waiting room forever.
Jean walked down the hallway. She spotted one of her colleagues, then called out her name, but she continued and ran into the operating room. She wondered if Harry was there. Had he suffered burns?
The doors suddenly slammed open, and Jean stepped aside. They rushed someone out of the room, and Jean gasped when she realized it was the woman Harry had helped out of the house. As they rushed her out and down the hallway, Jean locked eyes with her, and she saw such deep terror in them, her heart almost stopped. The woman was breathing in puffs; her skin so burned it was falling off in flakes. It was a gruesome sight. It was hard to see that she was even human behind the disfigured skin.
As her eyes met Jean’s, it was like she tried to get Jean’s attention. Jean held her breath and stared at her as she passed, while the woman’s mouth moved. As Jean looked at her, she realized the woman was speaking, that her mouth was shaping two words.
Two words that would stay with Jean for the rest of her life.
The woman had barely let them leave her lipless mouth when her EKG monitor flatlined, and all the alarms sounded.
Chapter 35
“Stop fussing over me; I am perfectly fine.”
I growled at the nurse. She had just told me they wanted me to stay at the hospital for a few hours. I had told her a million times that I had to get home to my daughter and that I was all right.
“So, this is where you’re hiding.”
“Jean,” I said, smiling as I saw her gentle eyes lingering on me from the doorway. “Tell her I’m fine; will you?”
She gave me a look, lifting her eyebrows.
“Are you?”
“Yes!” I groaned. “I’m perfectly fine. You can read the darn report yourself. It’ll tell you I’m great and ready to go. No severe burns, only some mild ones to my leg, but it’s nothing. And I have no signs of smoke inhalation. They took an x-ray of my chest to see if there was damage to my lungs; they checked my oxygen levels and the levels of carbon monoxide in my blood. The doctor said it’s all good.”
Jean sighed. I could tell she wasn’t sure she believed me. She always thought I exaggerated just how fine I was. She grabbed my phone from the table next to me.
“Here. You need to call your daughter and tell her where you are and don’t forget to mention how you got yourself into this trouble.”
“All right,” I said and grabbed it, “but then can you do something for me?”
Jean rolled her eyes with a sigh, then smiled as I pleaded with my hands clasped together.
“There’s always something with you, isn’t there? Like what, might I ask?”
“Find out how she’s doing.”
“Who.”
“The girl I pulled from the house.”
“Oh, Harry…” Jean’s face went blank. I sank back in the bed, leaning against the pillow at my back.
“Oh. Are you su…”?
Jean shook her head, her eyes overwhelmed with despair. “I am sorry. She died just now in the hallway. They were transferring her to the Burn Center. They resuscitated her, but her heart failed. And that was it. She’s gone.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe this. It had all been in vain? I had risked my life…for this? Only for her to die in the hospital? The thought was unbearable, cruel.
“What…what was her name?” I asked.
“Savannah Hart.”
“Savannah Hart,” I repeated pensively. I wanted to remember her.
“But there is something else,” Jean said as the nurse left us. She closed the curtain around me so no one could see us. She sat on the edge of the bed.
“What?”
“She said something to me right before she died.”
I made a face. What was she talking about?
“You were there? When she died? I don’t get it.”
“I saw her when she was being transported down the hallway. Our eyes locked, and then she mouthed two words to me that I can’t forget. Her eyes were so insistent; it still gives me goosebumps to think about it. It was like she knew she was going to die, and it was important for her to get this message across to someone before she went. I can’t explain it; I just knew it was important.”
“And what did she say? What were those two words?”
Jean leaned over and whispered in my ear. As she spoke, my eyes grew wider, and my heart started to pound loudly. I could barely believe her. With two small words, sh
aping a name, some of the pieces in my puzzle suddenly fell into place. Not all of them, but enough for me to understand that this woman wasn’t in an accident. She was killed by the same murderer that had killed Major Wolfe, and if Josie’s heart told the truth, the same person who had also murdered Emilia and Jennifer García.
Chapter 36
“Timothy Wilson.”
I kept repeating the name over and over again in the Uber on my way home. Jean was sitting next to me, yawning. I couldn’t blame her. I was exhausted too. I had called and spoken to Josie, then told her not to worry and just go to bed, that I’d be home soon. I just hoped she had been able to fall asleep. She needed all the rest she could get.
“I remembered you told me that was the name on the guy’s grave,” Jean said, “the one where you found your old boss. That’s why it startled me so much. Do you have any idea why she’d say that name?”
I shook my head. “Not really, other than she must have known Major Wolfe was buried there. Just like Emilia knew.”
“Do you think she might have seen who killed him and buried him?” Jean said as the driver drove up in front of my house. I thanked him for the ride, and we both got out.
“That is exactly what I think. You have a very sharp mind, Miss Wilcox,” I said, teasing her. “We could use someone like you on the force one day.”
She scoffed. “I’ll just end up having to patch you all up when some tough guy roughs you up. I’d end up babysitting all of you.”
I exhaled as the Uber disappeared down the road.
“Thank you…again,” I said. “For staying with me tonight when I was in the hospital. That means a lot.”
She smiled, “Ah, don’t go all soft on me, Hunter. You know I’ll always be there for you. Besides, I had to make sure you were all right and that you didn’t drive the nurses crazy. Now, remember, if you have any signs…”
“I know, I know. Cough, shortness of breath, headache, any changes in my skin…if it turns blue or pale due to lack of oxygen, if I feel confused, if I faint, if I experience chest pain…did I leave anything out?”
“Maybe just vomiting blood; that’s something to look out for too.”
“Isn’t it always?” I asked with a grin.
“This is no joke, Harry Hunter. You listen to me. You come knocking on my door if you have any of those symptoms, okay?” she said. “Or call nine-one-one right away. It’s up to you. But don’t ignore it; you hear me?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Loud and clear. Now, goodnight.”
Jean sighed. Her shoulders came down slightly. It had been a tough night for her too. I hated that I made her worry.
“Good night, Harry. Take care.”
I sent her one last look as she walked up to her porch and I to mine. I smiled as I saw that she looked at me too, right before we both walked inside. I still felt like I could smell the darn smoke everywhere, and my throat was scratchy. I went to get a glass of water in the kitchen first, to bring with me up to bed.
I had barely turned on the light in the kitchen when I heard a loud bump coming from upstairs. When I looked out in the street, I saw the gray Buick parked a couple of houses down under a streetlight.
What in the…?
Wasting no more time, I hurried into the hallway and grabbed my gun from the safety box in the closet, using my fingerprints to open it. With the gun held out in front of me, I walked as quietly as possible up the stairs.
Chapter 37
The gun was steady in my hand as I was reminding myself to be cautious not to overreact. After all, the bumping sounds could easily have been Josie going to the bathroom, or maybe she hadn’t gone to bed at all after we spoke. But the sight of the Buick in the street made me suspect otherwise, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
I reached the top of the stairs when I saw a shadow move across the hallway…the shadow of a person who looked nothing like Josie.
“Stop right there,” I said.
He did as I told him.
“Hands where I can see them, behind your head.”
The person obeyed. Hands were placed behind the neck.
“Now, turn around.”
As I suspected, I was looking at David Smith. He was shaking heavily.
“What are you doing in my home?” I asked and stepped forward, holding the gun out. I felt such anger swell up inside of me and had to keep my cool so it wouldn’t run away with me. It was one thing that he was watching us from the street, but having him break into my house where my daughter was sleeping all alone was something completely different.
“Answer me! What are you doing here? Did you hurt my daughter?”
He shook his head. “N-no.”
“What’s going on?”
Josie came out through her door and looked at us.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Did he touch you?”
Josie shook her head. “No. I didn’t…who is he, and why is he here…Dad?”
“She was sleeping,” David said, stuttering. “I was just…watching her.”
“You were watching her sleep?” I asked. “Why?”
David sank to his knees, crying. “Don’t you understand? She’s all I have left of her. She’s all I have left of Emilia. She has her heart…pounding in her chest, my daughter’s heart.”
“What?” Josie asked. “He’s her dad?”
“Is that why you’ve been watching us?” I asked.
He nodded, sobbing. “Yes. That and because I needed to protect her.”
“What do you mean protect her?” I asked, confused.
David pressed back tears and swallowed before he spoke. “Someone wants her dead.”
“Someone wants my Josie dead?” I asked. “Who?”
“I don’t know,” David said, crying.
I stepped forward and placed the gun to his head, then yelled:
“WHO?”
David was trembling beneath the gun. “I don’t know him. I don’t know his name or who he is, but I know he works at the harbor. I’ve done a couple of gigs for him, you know…transport. Stuff like that, illegal transport. He imports appliances, fridges, freezers, washer and dryers, stuff like that under the radar. Avoiding taxes and stuff like that. I don’t know much about it except I sometimes drive one of their trucks. That’s all. I owe money, a lot of it, and they pay me well. Better than any other driving job. As long as I don’t ask any questions. Anyway, I heard him talking to someone about it a few days ago, about the girl, the daughter of a detective and how the heart, my Emilia’s heart, had led them to find the body of some guy that they wanted to stay buried. I knew it could only be Josie they were talking about. They talked about cutting that heart out of the girl, getting rid of her. I thought I could protect her. As I told you, she’s all I have left of my girl, my sweet daughter.”
“Why didn’t you just come to talk to me? You could’ve warned me instead of hanging out in the street like that,” I said, still angry, but easing up slightly.
“I panicked. I wanted to see Josie, to see her with my daughter’s heart, and then when you came out to the car, I freaked out. I panicked, and then I thought you wouldn’t talk to me after I almost ran you over.”
“Well, you’re right about that. No one listens to someone creeping around like some snake. I’m not even sure I believe half of what you’re saying right now.”
Josie came up behind me. “Dad, listen to the man. Look at him. He doesn’t look like much of a threat, does he? Don’t forget what he did for me.”
“He broke into our home, Josie. This is our sacred place. Here, I expect you to be safe. He violated that.”
She placed a hand on the gun and lowered it while looking into my eyes. I eased up. No one could soften me up like Josie.
“Who were these men?” I asked David. “The ones you heard talk about Josie?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know their names.”
I lifted the gun again. “You’re gonna help me catch them. But not till we’ve gotten Josie to
a safe place.”
Chapter 38
“What’s this?”
Al stared at Josie, her eyes squinting. She was fully dressed, even though it was three a.m.
“It’s my daughter. Josie, this is Al; Al, meet Josie. Get used to one another. She’s going to stay here for a little while.”
“She’s what?”
Al stared at me, but I pushed past her inside and walked to a couch, then told Josie to lie down on it.
“Do you have a blanket? Josie needs rest. Her heart, you know.”
Al stared at me, her mouth still half open. She slammed the door shut behind us and put the many safety locks back on.
“Now, wait a second, I have never…I’m not…children and I are not a mix.”
“Blanket, please,” I said, ignoring her.
Al walked to her closet, grabbed a blanket, then handed it to me. I used it to cover Josie, then kissed her, and told her to sleep. It didn’t take a second before her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily. She needed it.
“Are you even listening to me?” Al said.
I pulled her to the other end of the room, so our talking wouldn’t wake Josie. “Listen, I get it. You don’t like children. But Josie is fourteen. She’s not a child. Christ, she’s twice your size, if you haven’t noticed.”
“A lot of children are taller than me; that doesn’t mean they don’t cause trouble or make a mess,” she snorted. “I’m not the motherly type.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I need this.”
She gave me a look.
“Remember your sister and how I found the guy who killed her?”
Al groaned loudly. “Oh, you’re gonna pull that one on me, huh?”
“You said a lifetime of help.”