Surfacing for breath, Carly found herself awash in the turbulent wake from the yacht’s engine. She sputtered and coughed. Her eyes stung from the salt water. The yacht moved away at a good speed and was already shrinking in the distance. Teeth chattering from the cold, she watched the lights from the yacht and wondered if they would turn around and come after her.
In a few moments it was obvious they weren’t turning back. The lights grew smaller, and as she treaded water, she tried to gain perspective on just how far out she was. Burke obviously didn’t think much of her chances in the water.
I’ll show you, Burke, and you, Drake—the party is over. Buffeted by gentle swells as the wake receded, Carly could still see the lights of the harbor bright and strong. She couldn’t be more than a mile or two away from the rocky breakwater at the harbor entrance. Her goal became the stone breakwater wall. Lifeguard patrols were regular. Somebody will find me if I can make it to the wall.
The water was a good ten degrees cooler than the surf she was used to training in, and the current pulled her away from, not toward, the harbor. It was time to get moving.
Her wet clothes were already starting to drag her down, so she kicked off her boots. Thankfully the water wasn’t rough. She settled into her best training stroke and started for the breakwater.
Carly reminded herself of all the time she’d put into training these past months. A two- or three-mile swim should be a piece of cake. People swam from Las Playas to Catalina all the time, and that was ten times longer than the swim in front of her. She tried not to think about the fact that an entourage of support boats usually accompanied ocean distance swimmers. The only thing she concentrated on was the fact that this was her element. Water is life.
When she reached a rhythm in her stroke, a place where she was comfortable and a pace she felt she could keep up forever, her body warmed up. Her mind focused on the task at hand, and Carly felt tremendous peace. Over and over she recited a prayer of sorts in her mind.
Lord, if you get me out of this, I’ll believe, I swear.
She remembered her dad telling her he wasn’t afraid of death. He tried to assure her that there was a God and a heaven, and that it was a better place.
I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe a higher power was taking my dad away. Now, closer to death than she’d ever been, Carly clung to the hope there was a God and he would prove it.
Nick is so sure you’re real, so sure you hear prayers. Thoughts of Nick quickened her stroke. More than anything she wanted to see him and make sure he was okay. The idea that an assassin could be at his door this very minute terrified her. How trivial the affair and all the hurts and arguments seemed when weighed against life and death. If nothing else, she wanted to be certain Nick knew that she’d forgiven him. Though she’d said as much in the hospital, had he heard? Oh, God, hear this prayer and watch over Nick.
After what seemed like hours, Carly felt as if she’d been swimming forever and the harbor lights were no closer. She used a buoy just outside the mouth of the harbor as a landmark to swim straight. The flickering light cheered her on. Imagining the buoy loomed closer, she kept swimming.
Fatigue hit like a brick. Carly felt numb with cold, and she began to fear she’d underestimated the distance to be covered. Or worse yet, overestimated her ability. Burke hadn’t given her a second thought. The yacht hadn’t even slowed. They all must have figured I was done for. As her doubts grew, her fatigue increased. The cold intensified, and she realized she couldn’t feel her toes.
Hypothermia was a very real threat. The buoy was her only hope. Carly struggled with her stroke now. She tried a resting stroke, but the current made her lose ground. The taste of salt water turned her stomach and made her mouth raw. The ocean was black. Carly knew she could do this swim physically. If she quit, it would be a mental failure. And if she quit, she would die. So will Nick. With that thought, new energy coursed through tired muscles.
Finally the buoy was close. With a last burst of strength, she surged toward it.
Suddenly, from under the water, something bumped her leg. Carly didn’t even have the strength to panic. Would she feel teeth biting into her leg?
“So this is it, God? You aren’t real and I’m shark bait,” she croaked.
Her leg was bumped again, and then a dark shape broke the surface in front of her. It was a seal. Carly smiled, but in the back of her mind she wondered if she was delirious with fatigue.
The seal barked and disappeared underwater. He surfaced again near the buoy and barked some more, as if talking to her. Carly was spent, but the seal encouraged her. He climbed onto the buoy and slid off again. His face popped up in front of her, a little closer this time.
She reached for him, but he dove out of her grasp, reappearing once more at the buoy. Back and forth he went, and Carly edged closer to the buoy. Chasing the seal took her mind off her fatigue. The barking was a comfort after the solitude of the ocean.
At last Carly reached the buoy. She grabbed for it, but her hand slipped off the algae and seagull poop that covered the base.
Marshaling her last bit of strength, Carly grabbed again and found something to grip. Resting for a moment, she knew she needed to get out of the water while she could. It was as if the sea was telling her to let go, to slide down into the dark water and rest. Carly wanted rest. She wanted to give in to the grip of darkness. But something propelled her, forced her to work herself out of the water and onto the buoy.
The seal swam round and round the buoy, barking from time to time. Carly lay across the buoy in slime, freezing, and passed out.
36
With no idea how much time had passed since she’d reached the buoy, Carly struggled to regain consciousness. Her body ached like she remembered it aching in the academy from all the physical training. Voices faded in and out—angry voices, calm voices. She couldn’t place any of them.
Was it possible she was back in the academy, grinding out push-ups and pull-ups? Her father had never wanted her to be a cop. “It’ll make you hard,” he’d said. “It’s a man’s world.” Was that why her father was angry? Because she was stiff and sore?
“Dad?” She tried to speak but simply rasped. Even her face hurt. Her dad called her name, and she couldn’t even answer.
“Carly?” He sounded so far away.
“Carly.” Now it was her mother speaking.
Carly tried to swim against the pain, but she couldn’t move. She tried to open her eyes, but the light stung like needles.
“Carly, can you hear me?” Was it her mom or wasn’t it?
She turned toward the voice, opening her eyes and blinking away the stinging pain. Keep talking so I can find you.
“Carly?”
Slowly her eyes focused and she recognized the source of the voice. Not Mom. Andi. Andi dressed in her nurse’s uniform. Why is she wearing that at home?
“Say something,” Andi implored. “They brought you in hypothermic. You could have died. Can’t you tell me what happened?”
Hypothermic? The memory of Jeff, Burke, Drake, and the others jolted Carly alert. Reality pierced through the haze and it all came back to her—the yacht, the swim. Where am I?
“Andi.” Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton.
Andrea saw the problem and helped Carly drink some water. “Take it slow, roomie, and try to tell me what happened.”
“How did I get here?” Every word felt drawn out in swaths of cotton.
“The lifeguards picked you up off an ocean buoy! You were freezing. What in the world were you doing out there?”
“They called you?”
Andi gave her more water. “No, I was on duty in the ER when they wheeled you in. I couldn’t believe it. I called the PD. Garrison is outside waiting to talk to you. Will you please tell me what happened?”
Carly closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “Long story.” Jeff. Her eyes snapped open. “Did anyone else come in with me?”
An
drea shook her head. “No. Was someone else with you in the water?”
Carly didn’t have the energy to explain, and she remembered hearing the gunshots on the boat. Jeff was most likely beyond her help now. “No, but . . . well, I’m in trouble. Nick, too. Is he okay?”
“As far as I know, he’s okay.” She sounded as if she couldn’t care less how Nick was. “You’re being too mysterious.”
“Sorry. I don’t feel too hot.” Her voice weakened. “Tell Garrison to go away. I don’t want to talk to him or anyone else. And do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Nick. Someone wants to kill him. Warn him, please. If you don’t want to, call Joe King. He can be trusted. And no visitors.” Carly sagged with the effort of so many words.
“Okay, okay. I can see it’s important to you. Go back to sleep. I’ll tell the captain to go away and leave you alone.”
Carly drifted off to sleep, relieved by Andi’s promise.
When she woke again, it was to a quiet, empty room. The inside of her mouth felt like she’d swum the ocean with it open. What day is it? As she stretched to look for her watch, she felt the pull of the IV in her hand, and the effort made her sore muscles scream.
She surveyed her room, trying to find any indication of the date. How long ago did I leave Jeff on that boat? Is Burke still in Catalina? There was a phone on the nightstand next to her bed. She reached for it like an old, arthritic woman. Nick should be out of ICU. Punching the button for the operator, she asked for Nick Anderson’s room.
“Hello?” a strange voice answered, and Carly hesitated. “Hello?” the voice repeated impatiently.
“Is Nick there?” Her raspy voice worked better now.
“Who is this?”
“I’d like to speak to Nick.”
There was a pause, and Carly heard muffled voices. She was about to hang up when Nick answered.
“Nick! You’re okay. I was so worried about you.”
“Carly, thank God! Worried about me? I’ve been worried sick about you.” The concern in his voice sent warmth blossoming through Carly. “I wish I could walk down there right now and find out what in the world you thought you were doing.”
“No lectures, okay? You’re in danger. Someone is going to try to kill you.”
“They already tried—twice now.” His tone turned angry.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story. I’m sending Nathan down there to tell you what’s up. Don’t worry about me; watch out for yourself. And, uh, well . . .” He paused, then continued softly. “I’m praying for you.”
When he hung up, Carly settled back in bed, gratified not only that Nick was okay, but that she felt more like herself. She thought of Jeff and the promise she’d made to tell Elaine that he was not corrupt. And then she remembered her other reckless promise to God. She’d asked him to bring her out of the ocean safe and to watch over Nick. He’d come through so far; she was alive and so was Nick.
She leaned back and closed her eyes. I gave my word and I mean to keep it. Okay, God, I surrender. I don’t know how to believe, but from now on, I’m trying. The words brought a measure of comfort and a sparkle of hope.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Nathan walked in.
“Hey, I think you used up at least eight lives the other day. What were you doing in the middle of the ocean on the buoy?”
“I’m glad to see you too, but first things first. How’s my mom, what day is it, and how long have I been here?”
He started to protest and then sighed in resignation. “Your mother is fine, still in the mountains. She wanted to come down, but I talked her out of it. I’m having enough trouble keeping an eye on you and Nick. They picked you up Monday night, and you came to long enough to send Andi to check on Nick. You saved his life. I’m told you’ve slept since then. Today is Wednesday. Now what happened to you?”
“Wait, what did Nick mean when he said someone tried to kill him?”
Nathan shook his head. He looked slightly amused and somewhat resigned. “Right after you sent Andi to check on him, some man came in the room claiming to be a doctor. He said he had a medication change for Nick. Andi didn’t recognize him, and when she pressed him, he got nervous and took off. Turns out the medication he wanted to give Nick would have reacted with what Nick was already taking and killed him. Now the PD has provided round-the-clock guards. Feel better?”
“Much!” Carly felt like she’d just finished a swim race miles ahead of the competition. Time to share what she’d learned. “Nathan, I know who killed Teresa. I didn’t jump in the water for a swim. I—”
The door opened and interrupted her revelation. In walked Dr. Guest and a nurse Carly didn’t recognize.
“Excuse me.” Guest folded his arms and stared pointedly at Nathan. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Why? I want to talk to him,” Carly protested.
“You’re in no condition to talk to anyone.” Guest gave Carly a look she’d never seen on the normally too-friendly man. “I’m placing a 5150 hold on you, Officer Edwards. As soon as you’re ready, you’ll be transferred to the mental health section of county hospital.”
“5150! Why?” Carly and Nathan chimed simultaneously.
Guest ignored Nathan. “You tried to drown yourself. I’ve seen the signs of stress coming for months. In my professional opinion, you need therapy and medication. This man here is possibly contributing to the problem.” He turned his full attention to Nathan, and Carly felt her jaw drop. The good doctor was downright menacing.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave or I will have you removed.”
Guest is part of it, she knew in an instant. Violating a hard-and-fast rule—never assume—she’d thought Drake was the only danger, the only dirty cop in the PD. How many more were there? She’d given no one a reason to think she was suicidal, at least not anyone who wasn’t on Burke’s yacht. Her head throbbed as she tried to think of a way to fight back against the doctor.
“I’m her lawyer,” Nathan responded calmly but firmly.
“It doesn’t matter.” Guest dismissed his statement. “I’m classifying her as a danger to herself and others. A lawyer has no jurisdiction over a seventy-two-hour psychiatric hold; only a psychiatrist does. Do I need to call security?”
Carly’s fists clenched under the blanket as she realized that what Guest said was true. Nathan looked unsure, and she felt for him. Section 5150 of the Welfare and Institutions Code wasn’t something he probably dealt with at all. And she most certainly didn’t want security. Security would mean restraints, and she didn’t want to be restrained.
She decided to play along. “It’s okay, Nathan. There’s nothing wrong with me. They’ll come to that conclusion, and we’ll talk later.”
“I’ll need to tell Nick where you’re being taken.”
“Sergeant Anderson knows where county hospital is.” Guest nodded toward the door.
Slowly, with some hesitation, Nathan turned to leave. “Carly, you know where to find me. Call when you can,” he said as he cast a parting glance at Guest.
“Yes, I will.”
Nathan nodded to Guest. “See that she stays safe and sound.”
The door closed, leaving Carly alone with Guest and the nurse.
37
“I didn’t try to kill myself and you know it.” Carly worked to keep the rage she felt out of her voice.
“I don’t have anything to discuss with you right now.” Guest tapped his fingertips together and looked down his nose at her. “The nurse is going to make sure you’re fit to be transported, take care of the IV, and help you get dressed. It will be easier for all involved if you cooperate.”
His face was set like iron. What a different doctor he is, she thought. And she would cooperate to avoid being restrained.
The nurse checked Carly’s vitals without saying anything other than “Open wide” for the thermometer. She told Guest that Carly could be transported and rem
oved the IV. Guest left her with the nurse to get dressed.
Carly thought getting out of bed would be easy, but a wave of dizziness slapped hard the first time she sat up completely. The nurse, remaining stone faced, was helpful but abrupt. Carly’s second try at sitting up was successful when she took it easy. Her strength returned slowly.
“I’d rather wear street clothes,” Carly said when she saw the hospital pajamas the nurse wanted her to put on.
“These are what Dr. Guest wants you to wear,” the nurse countered.
“I’d still rather wear street clothes. Those don’t look very warm, and I was brought in suffering from hypothermia.” Carly pressed ever so gently, testing the resolve of her jailer.
The nurse looked somewhat perplexed and compromised by agreeing to look for a warmer robe. As soon as she left the room, Carly stood and had to grab the bed railing to keep from falling. She was weak and dizzy, and it was a long minute before the room stopped spinning.
I need to move fast.
She willed her head to clear. Moving along the wall, Carly shuffled toward the door. Wearing only a thin cover open in the back, she shivered. I am cold. At least I didn’t lie to the nurse.
She opened the door and peered carefully down the hallway. Guest was nowhere in sight, but Carly could see the nurse at the far end of the hall looking into a supply closet.
Silently she thanked God that Andrea was her roommate and that she’d spent enough time at the hospital to recognize where she was, a quiet wing on the second floor.
Carly began making her way down the hall, gaining strength with each step. The employee locker room is downstairs. Andi will have extra clothes I can borrow. Then maybe I can walk out through the ER. They’re always so busy. No one will notice.
Carly crossed the hallway, careful to close the back of her gown with one hand, and shuffled toward the stairs. She realized how weak she was when it took great effort to open the heavy door. Once in the stairway, she gripped the hand railing and started down as fast as she dared. Please, God, help me stay strong long enough to get away.
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