by Pamela Fryer
“V-FIB. Start CPR, bag her, give me two units O neg and shock her at three-sixty.”
Cassandra was rolled onto her back. One of the doctors began CPR while a nurse pulled the mask away and used a balloon to start her breathing again. The doctor readied the paddles. They charged up with an ominous whine.
“Let’s go people. Clear!”
Cassandra’s body arched off the bed. The heart rate monitor registered two irregular beats and then went flat.
The nurse who’d given the dirty look turned to the camera. She held up a hand in front of the lens. “Out.” A blurred shot of the floor swept across the screen. The video went black.
A long moment of hollow silence bounced off the walls of the interrogation room.
“Sweet Jesus,” Noah finally said.
Miles was sweating. The video brought back horrific memories of a night spent in an antiseptic-scented emergency room while doctors rushed desperately to save Michelle. In the end, the silence that fell had been like lead in his ears.
He felt the same way now. Bile rose in his throat and Miles was grateful he hadn’t eaten anything this morning.
Lily’s story was true on all accounts, but it was no easier to accept.
Noah rose and shut off the television. His voice cut through the heavy silence. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
I wish I knew, Miles thought. “The ‘Colton’ she referred to is Colton Reilly.”
“Ah. And does Colton Reilly own a 9mm semi-automatic?”
Miles rose and ejected the tape. He removed the cassette from the video adapter and slipped it into his pocket.
“Miles, I can help you.”
“You already have.”
“Don’t try to do this alone.”
“I’m not doing anything but giving her back her stuff. I’m going to let Will Shapiro handle the insurance matter.”
Noah frowned. “Don’t be a maverick.”
Clearly the sergeant didn’t believe him. That was okay. It was still better if he didn’t know the whole story. “It’s nice to know I can depend on you.” He nodded toward the blank screen. “She lives in Seattle, so I think it would be better if I called Billings.”
“Hmm.”
“You know it’s nothing personal. Look, you’ve been a good friend over the years, especially when…” Miles clenched his jaw and glanced away. “I’d feel better if you weren’t involved. You said you wanted a clean plate.”
Noah only nodded over an exasperated sigh. “Whatever your reasons, I’m not here to judge. Officially I gotta tell you to go by the book. But unofficially, you know I look out for my own, even if you weren’t mine but one of them snooty, big city cops.”
Miles chuckled.
“You call me—off the record—if you need me.”
“Thanks, Noah.”
Still frowning, he shook his head. “I shouldn’t let you walk out of here.” He cuffed Miles on the shoulder as he followed him out of the interrogation room. “Just don’t make me sorry I did.”
Miles gnashed his teeth as he drove back up the mountain. His mood had turned foul.
He didn’t like knowing Lily had told the truth. He didn’t want to look into those soft, brown eyes and believe their desperation. Didn’t want to know she was innocent and helpless.
It would be easier to resist her if she was a criminal. Easier, but not effortless.
The fact she was risking her life to save a child she hardly knew, the daughter of the sister she hardly knew, thawed shards of ice off his frozen heart.
She’d tried to hijack his truck with a rusted antenna. It was almost cute. Definitely pathetic. He couldn’t believe she’d gotten this far with a diabolical mastermind hot on her heels.
He arrived back at the cabin to find Eddie and Annie tossing the ball back and forth. Edward looked expectantly in his direction, having recognized the approaching sound of his own vehicle.
“I guess she checked out.” He gave a knowing smile and tossed the ball gently back to Annie, who managed to catch it this time.
Miles nodded while inside his head he grumbled. Leave it to Eddie to be right all the time.
He found Lily inside tidying the kitchen. She stopped mid-swipe across the countertop, looking like a mouse that realized it had crept in front of a cat.
Miles stepped into the mouth of the narrow kitchen. He waited until she set down the washrag and faced him. Her eyes were wide, but a little sad. None of this had been easy for her, but he’d been thinking only about himself. He guessed he owed her an apology.
Her gaze flicked to the blackened purse in his hand. He set it on the counter.
“Your story checks out.”
“I know.”
She met his eyes, but her expression didn’t change. He’d forgotten how sensitive women could be. She hadn’t liked being doubted. He would give that apology if he could only muster the words.
“I wouldn’t be doing my job right if I simply took your word for everything.” That was as close as he could come.
She snatched her purse and opened it. Her shoulders relaxed when she saw the cassette in the center compartment.
“Are you a cop again?”
“I never stopped being one.”
A tremor of a smile flickered at the corners of her mouth.
“Did you watch it?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry I had to intrude on your privacy.”
“It’s all right.” She zipped the purse shut. “I’m just thankful it wasn’t damaged. Child Protective Services has a copy, but I feel better having one too. It’s my only weapon to fight him with.”
Lily turned around and rinsed out the dishcloth she’d been wiping the counters with. He stood there, numb, as she dried the utensils she’d hand washed and dropped them back in the drawer. Still the apology wouldn’t come. To say it would be to offer a tender emotion to her, and Miles wasn’t up to that yet. He might never be.
“Edward said we could borrow his Jeep,” she said softly, as though she felt his emotions and was sympathetic to them. Yep, he’d definitely forgotten how sensitive women could be.
“You don’t have to come with us. I live close to Seattle East Station. I know how to get there on my own.”
“Do you think you can make it without me?”
“I know how to drive.” She managed another timid smile. It cut into Miles like a knife. “Though you will have to take my word on that.”
Miles glanced away before her sweet smile caught him by the throat. He swallowed. “You need me. And I wouldn’t feel right letting you go alone.”
When he met her eyes again, her smile was gone.
“You’re right, Miles. I do need you.” A trembling frown pinched between her brows. “I’m so scared I can hardly draw a breath. But I know you don’t want to be with us, and I respect that.”
She broke then, and his frozen heart disintegrated into a thousand sharp shards. Lily covered her face with her hands and sobbed. He jerked, instinctively moving to take her in his arms. But his spine stiffened and his body went numb, preventing him from taking the step that would bring them together.
Lily leaned back against the counter. She sniffled and wiped at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you didn’t cry I would think there was something wrong with you.”
“My life changed in a single day. The phone rang, I picked it up and suddenly I was on a different course.”
Miles stepped closer and lifted his hand to touch her shoulder. At the last minute he thought better of it. “I know all about how that feels.”
There was nothing more catastrophic than learning someone had died. He’d searched through his disintegrating sanity for a way to fix it, but there was none. It left him feeling broken and useless, like a machine gnashing over a broken gear.
“Things had been good for me. I’d worked hard for that. Now I don’t know what to do. If they can’t prove he killed my sister and
put him away forever, I’ll never be safe.”
“There are good men in Seattle who can help you. I’ll make sure you find them. You’ll be safe. You and Annie both.”
Lily drew a deep breath and surprised him by smiling. “They say when you have a child you develop an instant sense of self-sacrifice. That the child becomes more important to you than your own life. In a way, that happened to me. I adored Annie the very instant I laid eyes on her. I would do anything to keep her safe.”
“I don’t even know her and I feel that way,” he said. It was true—it just killed him that she reminded him of Michelle.
“I’ll bet you feel that way about all kids.”
“Most cops do.”
“I never did.” She laughed, but it was a choked sound. “I didn’t even particularly like kids.”
Lily leaned away from the counter and straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry to lay all that on you.” She touched his arm. Strangely, this time it didn’t hurt the pit of his stomach.
“I meant what I said. I don’t want you to feel obligated. Seattle is only four hours away, and nobody will recognize us in Edward’s Jeep. I’m sure we can make it to the police station by ourselves.”
Her fingers drew away, leaving a little trail of tingles behind.
“And I meant what I said. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you go alone.”
Annie burst through the door and Eddie followed behind.
“Hi, Mr. Miles.”
“Hi, Annie. Are you ready to go?”
“Uh huh.” She held up the baseball. “Mr. Eddie said I could keep the ball. He says I need more practice.”
“Did you say thank you?” Lily asked. She gave a subtle swipe at a stray tear and disguised her misery well.
“She sure did,” Eddie said, winking.
Miles stepped closer to his old friend. “How are you doing?”
“Ten times better than I was yesterday,” Eddie assured him.
Miles would have thought Eddie was mollifying him if the old man didn’t look so much better. He stepped back and clapped his hands together. “Okay, if you have to pee, do it now.”
Annie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth formed a perfect circle. Her pale cheeks burned red as she turned and ran for the bedroom.
“She’s a doll,” Eddie told Lily. “You’re very lucky.”
Miles would swear the same blush crept into Lily’s cheeks.
“I know.”
They loaded up and Miles watched Annie buckle her seatbelt in the rearview mirror. He rolled down the window as Eddie came alongside.
“I’ll be back by noon tomorrow.”
“Do what you gotta do. Don’t worry about the heap.” Eddie tapped the doorframe twice and stepped back. “God be with you.”
Eddie stood on the porch as the Jeep’s engine faded. Soon there was nothing but the sound of the Washington wilderness rushing through the tops of ancient Ponderosa pine. He stepped onto the rich earth and breathed deeply.
He stretched his arms out to the sides, flexing the muscles in his back. The section under his left arm where lymph nodes had been removed in four different surgeries no longer hurt. His lower back, where biopsy needles had been inserted into his liver and kidneys more times than he could count, no longer hurt.
For the first time in two years, he could draw a deep breath without the tight, constricting feeling in the right side of his chest where half his lung had been removed.
The weakness was gone. The ache, the nausea, the heavy feeling as though lead ran through his veins.
All of it gone.
He took another deep breath, reveling in the miracle that had occurred. Tears filled his eyes.
He looked to the sky and gave silent thanks to God for sending Annie to him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this gift, but he knew one thing for sure, his cancer was gone.
Chapter Seven
Annie giggled and squealed with delight as the Jeep bounced over the forest floor.
“I like this better than driving on the road.”
Miles grinned. Annie’s laughter was contagious. “My kinda’ girl.”
Lily felt Miles glance at her, but she was afraid to take her eyes off the track in front of them. She sat stiffly in the seat and gripped the assist handle.
“We’re almost to the highway,” he told her.
Out of nowhere they were overtaken by a herd of deer. At least twenty, some with enormous antlers, came upon them from the right and galloped along with the Jeep.
“Watch out!” Lily shrieked. One of the larger animals cut in front of the vehicle.
Miles had already taken his foot off the gas; now he stomped on the brake.
“What are they?” Annie asked.
“They’re deer.” But unlike any deer Lily had ever seen. How odd they would charge up to a moving vehicle like this.
“You’ve never seen a deer before?” Miles asked Annie. He glanced into the rear view mirror.
“Uh-uh.”
The animals came to a complete stop and surrounded the Jeep, snorting out plumes of frosty breath into the brisk air. It was downright eerie. Their obsidian eyes looked straight into the Jeep as though searching for something.
“Are they dangerous?” Lily whispered. “What would make them do this?”
Suddenly, as one, they spooked and sprang away, vanishing into the trees as quickly as they had appeared.
“We must have surprised them. If one runs they all head in the same direction. Fight or flight theory, I guess.” He started the Jeep forward again.
She glanced at him. Miles didn’t seem suspicious that Annie might have had something to do with the bizarre incident. He was probably thinking about how strange it was she had lived her whole life in Washington without ever seeing a deer.
He slowed the Jeep to a crawl as they dipped through a gully beside the highway and climbed onto the pavement. “It was strange, though,” he said softly. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“They were beautiful. I’d hate to see one of them get run over by a four wheeler.” As the track smoothed out Lily craned around to see into the back seat and smiled at Annie. “I like the road better.”
Annie laughed. “That was fun. Can we do it again?”
“Sure we can,” Miles told her with another glance into the mirror.
Lily bit her lip. She didn’t know much about children, but promising things he couldn’t deliver definitely seemed wrong.
The next two hours were spent in a stiff silence broken only by Annie’s many questions. From the corner of her eye, Lily saw Miles clench his jaw several times. Annie’s cheerful chatter probably reminded him of road trips with his daughter, but Lily couldn’t think of a way to make her stop short of suggesting she take a nap.
They passed several roadside rest stops maintained by the national forestry service. The closer they got to Seattle, the fewer and farther between they became.
“Are you getting hungry, pumpkin?”
Annie nodded and perked up, peering out of the window. “Can we stop for a while?”
“The next time you see one of those public rest areas would you mind stopping?” she asked Miles. The closer to home they got the higher Lily’s spirits rose, but she needed to use the restroom and knew she’d never make it all the way to the police station.
Miles pulled over at a rest stop sixty-five miles from the city limits. Steel gray clouds filled the sky, squeezing out narrow rays of sun trying to reach the earth. Despite the darkening sky, they followed a wooded path to an area with picnic tables below the line of sight of the highway and ate the sandwiches Edward had prepared.
Another car stopped near the restrooms. Annie watched two kids run past, down a short slope to a play area.
“What is that?” she asked when the little boy swung from the monkey bars.
Lily glanced up into Miles’ questioning eyes. “It’s a jungle gym.”
His suspicious gaze flicked to Annie. “
When you lived with your mommy, did you ever play outside?” He softened his frown almost as if he had to remind himself to, and the resulting smile looked contrived.
Annie nodded shyly. “We did special stuff.”
“Like what?”
Across the picnic area, the parents called to their kids, who bolted back up the hill to the parking lot.
“Um, calisthenics.” Annie watched them, fascinated. She threw a pointed look at Lily. “Can I go to the jungle gym?”
“Once we finish our sandwiches we’ll all go over,” Lily promised. She might even take a swing on the bars herself. She needed to stretch her road-weary muscles and a little exercise would help clear her head. The hum of the highway had left her ears feeling cottony.
“I can do a cartwheel,” Annie volunteered. She hopped up and showed him.
“Wow, that was pretty good,” Miles said with approval.
“And I can walk over,” Annie said, showing him a front and back walk-over.
“You do gymnastics,” Miles supplied.
Annie nodded. “It’s better when the ground isn’t so dirty.” She dusted pine needles from her hands. “I can run really fast too.”
Lily collected up the plastic wrap and bundled their trash in the bag Eddie had packed their sandwiches in. “You can go down to the jungle gym now, but don’t get a stomach ache.”
“I won’t,” Annie shouted gleefully. She sprinted toward the tanbark-covered playground. Lily hurried after her, not wanting to lose sight of her on the overgrown path. She turned to see Miles rise slowly and follow.
“I think it’s a good idea if she works off some energy,” Lily called back.
He nodded. It must be difficult for him, she realized. He had probably played like this with his own daughter.
Annie had climbed onto the two iron bars to step up to the monkey bars, but she was too short to reach. Lily grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up, and she swung from one to the next with ease. She made it halfway across before dropping to the tanbark and climbing the ladder to try out the slide. She squealed with glee on the way down. Next she hopped onto a swing and Lily got behind her to push.