So Dark the Night

by Margaret Daley

  “While I appreciate—”

  Something darted out of the trees and plunged toward his car. Colin slammed his foot on the brake at the same time the person—a woman—halted in the middle of the road, her shocked expression reflected in the glare of his headlights.

  Emma stopped on the pavement, the car careening toward her. Paralyzed for a few precious seconds, she stared at the set of bright lights coming at her. Move! her mind screamed. Now!

  Life flooded back into her legs, and she began to lunge toward the opposite side of the road—away from the killers. Pain exploded in her left shoulder, spinning her back into the path of the car.

  Colin swerved the wheel of his SUV hard, trying to avoid the woman. Just as he thought he would, she twisted back toward his car. Even though his vehicle was slowing down, he couldn’t stop fast enough. The shouts from his passengers and the loud music drowned out the sound of him striking the person, but he felt the impact as though it vibrated through him to his soul. She reeled off the front end of his bumper while he fought to control his SUV. Fishtailing a few feet farther, his car finally came to a stop.

  “Is everyone all right?” Colin checked his passengers, his hands shaking so much they slipped from the wheel.

  “Yeah,” Brent answered, straining to see out the window.

  “Man! What was that? A deer?” Jamie Zamets asked, his eyes wide as he craned his neck around to see behind them.

  “Do you think it’s dead?” Neil asked from the back seat, the shaken tone to his question making it come out as a whisper.

  “It was a woman,” Brent said, unbuckling his seat beat.

  “Stay put.” Colin forced all the command he had learned in the army into his voice. He was afraid of what he would find when he got out and he didn’t want the teenagers to see.

  Colin hurried from the vehicle, slamming the door to emphasize the fact that he wanted the boys to stay in the car. He ran around the back of his vehicle and came to a skidding stop six feet from the rear bumper.

  Lying on the pavement was a slim, petite figure, dressed in pants and a shirt, the darkness obscuring the woman’s features, the illumination from the taillights not strong enough for him to assess her injuries. Colin knelt to feel for a pulse. A faint beat beneath his fingertips sent relief through him. The scent of blood assailed his nostrils. She was alive but for how long?

  “Rev, I thought you might need—” Brent’s sentence came to an abrupt halt as the flashlight he carried caught the victim in its glare.

  “She’s beautiful,” the teen finally murmured.

  Colin’s gaze skimmed over the woman’s face, bleeding from scratches that had nothing to do with the wreck. Beneath the cuts, he had to acknowledge, were very pleasing features, framed by a mass of long black curls. “Here, let me have that and you get back in the car.”

  The slamming sound of two doors slashed through the silence. Colin knew there was no way he would be able to protect them now.

  “Is she dead?” Jamie asked, coming up beside Brent.

  “No. Don’t you all know how to follow directions?”

  “Thought you might want my cell phone, Reverend.”

  Colin heard Neil’s words, but he felt as if he was back in the army, bending over a wounded comrade, because what riveted his attention now was the gaping hole in the young woman’s shoulder, blood oozing out of it and pooling on the pavement. His head came up. He scanned the terrain alongside the highway, trying to peer into the dense woods, but he couldn’t see anyone, only dark shadows cast by the tall pines and oaks.

  From the way she had spun, the shot had to have come from the right side of the road, probably from that thick line of trees, not far from his car. Too close. Hairs on the nape of his neck tingled. Danger resounded in his mind.

  “Get back into the car,” he said in the toughest voice he could muster.

  “But—” Brent started to protest.

  “Go. I’ll take care of her. Call for help, Neil.”

  At that moment a pair of headlights crested the hill and came toward them, followed by another set. Colin shifted his body to shield the woman as the boys trudged back to the car, muttering their disappointment. The tension in his body relaxed a little when he heard the doors slamming on his SUV.

  Dear Lord, please protect us from whoever shot this woman. Let this be help arriving. Keep her and the boys safe.

  He used his flashlight to flag down the approaching vehicle, hoping there would be safety in numbers, all the while keeping his body between the line of trees and the woman lying on the pavement.

  “I might be able to hit her, Roy,” the stocky man whispered from the dark cover of the woods.

  Hunkered down next to him, Roy took in the scene as more and more people stopped to help the man in the car. “Too risky. If she makes it, we’ll take care of her later. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He tugged on Manny’s gun arm.

  “I know I can.”

  “Listen, you have what, a few bullets left? There’s a time to take a stand. And a time to retreat.”

  “But she saw us.”

  Roy noticed the large man who’d hit the woman raise his head and look toward where they were hidden. Somehow he got the distinct impression the man had heard them even though they were seventy feet away and talking so low it would take someone with super abilities to hear them. For a few seconds he felt as though it were noon and they were exposed for all to see—at least, for the man who drove the SUV.

  A third car stopped at the scene of the wreck. Too many people. Whenever he got an itch that needed scratching, Roy knew it was time to cut his losses. He slipped back into the denser underbrush, keeping his eyes trained on the large man hovering over the woman. There was something menacing about him, Roy thought, remembering when the man discovered the woman had been shot. Alertness had stiffened him, his sharp gaze taking in his surroundings as if guns and shootings were an everyday occurrence for him.

  A few yards into the woods Roy pivoted and headed back toward the cabin, pleased to hear his partner following. Their employer wouldn’t be too happy to hear about this, especially when they hadn’t been able to discover the packet they’d been sent to retrieve. Manny might think the woman posed a problem for them, but Roy knew otherwise. Their employer didn’t take too kindly to people who messed up.

  The woman’s eyes snapped open and looked right at Colin. The honey-brown of her gaze pinned him. He leaned forward to listen to her whispered words.

  “Help…Derek.”

  “Where is he?”

  She blinked. Terror and pain twisted her features. “I can’t…” She licked her lips. “I can’t…see.” She tried to move, winced and groaned. Her eyelids slid closed. “Derek. Help…him.”

  “Where is he?” Colin turned so his ear was only inches from her mouth.

  “Plea…” Her voice faded, only a faint wisp of breath touching his ear.

  Colin straightened, scanning the faces of the people standing nearby in a semicircle. “Is anyone a doctor?”

  A woman, who had just arrived, stepped forward. “I’m a nurse. Let me see what I can do.”

  The middle-aged nurse assessed the damage while removing her sweater and pressing it into the woman’s shoulder to stop the flow of blood. “Has anyone called 9–1-1?”

  “Yes.”

  “This woman was shot. What happened?” The nurse looked up at Colin.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  The sound of sirens mingled with the whispers of the people gathered. Another car stopped and two men got out, hanging back from the crowd around the woman.

  “Is either one of you a doctor?” Colin asked the new arrivals, hearing the desperate edge to his words. This woman couldn’t die. Please, God, keep her alive. I’ve seen enough people dying to fill five lifetimes. Memories threatened to swamp him with emotions he never wanted to relive.

  The taller of the two said, “No, sorry.”

  Colin returned his attention t
o the woman on the pavement, her petite frame silhouetted by the headlights from several cars. Her dark pants were torn in places as well as her short-sleeved shirt.

  She wore only one sandal. He glanced around for her lost shoe. He didn’t see it. He examined the bottom of her bare foot. Cuts and dirt greeted his inspection as though she had been running through the woods without one shoe for a long distance. Red-painted toenails taunted him with the mystery that surrounded this woman.

  Who was Derek?

  Who had shot her?

  Where had she come from?

  The shriek of the sirens came to a stop as the ambulance pulled up. Colin moved back to allow the paramedics to examine the woman. A sheriff’s deputy, a member of his congregation, climbed from his cruiser and walked toward him.

  “Can you tell me what happened here, Reverend?”

  The three teenagers clambered out of the SUV and hurried toward the deputy, all talking at once.

  Colin waved at them to be silent. “John, I was driving home from the youth conference when this woman ran out in front of my car. I thought I was going to be able to avoid her until she spun around and lunged into my path.”

  Brent nodded. “She came right at us. Someone shot her!”

  “Shot? Then this isn’t a car accident?” the deputy asked.

  “No,” all the teenagers answered.

  “Excuse me. I need to call this in. Get more help out here.”

  While the deputy walked to his cruiser, Colin’s focus shifted to the woman being wheeled to the ambulance. He wished he could follow the ambulance to the hospital. If he hadn’t been on the highway, would she have made it safely to the other side? That was a question he was afraid would plague him for a long time. She had been shot, but how extensive were the injuries caused by his SUV? He couldn’t stop the questions from coming. Who was she? Who was Derek? Who shot her? Why?

  When the deputy came back, he said, “You all will have to go down to the station to make a statement.”

  “Even them?” Colin hated the boys being involved.

  “I’m afraid so. Neil’s dad will be out here shortly. He’ll take you in and get your statements.”

  Brent, Jamie and Neil looked at one another, their eyes wide.

  “Can we call our parents to tell them we’ll be late getting home?” Jamie held up his cell phone.

  “Sure.” John Edwards pulled Colin over to the side away from the three teenagers. “Did you see anyone chasing her?”

  “No, everything happened so fast.” In his mind Colin could see her frozen in his headlights for a few seconds before she started moving again. Then the awful moment when she spun back toward him, her eyes wide with terror. “John, there may be someone else in trouble. Someone named Derek. Before she passed out, she said something about Derek needing help. At least, I think that was it.”

  “Derek St. James? He has a cabin not too far from here. I hadn’t heard he was back in town, though.”

  “Maybe that’s who she was talking about.” Colin shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll check it out after this scene is secured.”

  “Be careful. Someone in the woods has a gun.” Colin realized he was stating the obvious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching him. Chills encased him in a cold sweat. He threw a last glance toward the area where he thought someone had hidden and shot at the mystery woman. “Look over that way. I think that was where the shot came from.”

  “I thought you didn’t see anything?”

  “Nothing like a person or a flash when the gun went off. I didn’t even hear anything with the music on in the car and the windows up. I was too busy trying to avoid the woman. But from the way she spun and fell, that has to be the place. Good cover for a shooter.” He knew more than he wished about guns, cover and death.

  “I’ll have the crime-scene boys check it out.”

  Heading toward the teenagers, Colin took a calming breath, a coldness embedded deep in his bones. Crystal Springs might be near Chicago, but crime rarely occurred in his little corner of the world, one of the reasons he had been so attracted to the town. It had always been a safe place to raise a family. But the shooting of this woman had altered all that. Deep in his gut he felt their peaceful little slice of heaven was about to change. Icy tentacles burrowed deeper. He shook, his hands balled at his side so tightly that pain zipped up his arms.

  TWO

  Colin paced from one end of the waiting room to the other. The strong antiseptic odor reminded him of what he disliked most about his job—visiting people in the hospital. His wife had died at Bayview County Hospital, and every time he stepped into its corridors, he remembered Mary Ann’s lingering death from cancer. The clean, disinfectant smells, sounds of beeping machines and murmured voices made his stomach clench whenever he came here. He needed to get past his automatic reaction. But even after four years, he hadn’t been able to.

  “Reverend, she’s been moved from recovery to her room now,” a nurse at the door said.

  Colin nodded, forcing his stomach muscles to relax. Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, he headed for Emma St. James’s private hospital room. Dread leadened his steps. He hadn’t seen her since the ambulance had taken her away from the wreck. First, he had been at the sheriff’s headquarters giving a statement about the accident, then when he had finally arrived at the hospital two hours ago, Emma St. James had already been wheeled into surgery to have her shoulder repaired.

  A deputy stood at her door. “Good afternoon, Reverend.”

  “Hi, Kirk. How’s your wife doing?”

  “Better. She should be at church this Sunday.”

  Colin started to enter the hospital room, but Kirk held up his hand. “Sorry, the sheriff is inside questioning the woman.”

  Colin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. The sights and sounds he had come to know so well when Mary Ann had been here surrounded him. Slowly, any relaxation he had achieved dissolved, leaving him tense again. Time crawled by painfully slowly. A doctor was paged. A phone rang at the nurses’ station. An orderly wheeled a patient to the elevator.

  The door to Emma’s room swung open, and J. T. Logan left, followed by a tall, slender woman with short brown hair. Colin pushed himself away from the wall, preparing to go into the room.

  “Reverend, I hope you can help her.” J.T.’s deep, gruff voice halted Colin’s progress.

  “You told her about her brother?”

  J.T. gave a curt nod. He gestured toward the woman at his side. “This is Madison Spencer. She’s a detective with the state police. She’ll be assisting me with the investigation. This is Reverend Fitzpatrick.”

  “The man who hit her?” Madison angled her head toward the sheriff. “Are you so sure him visiting is a good idea?”

  Colin flinched at the bald truth. How was he going to help Emma St. James when his SUV had struck her and he was riddled with guilt?

  “If anyone can help her, it’ll be Colin.”

  The sheriff’s words fueled Colin’s self-confidence until he saw the woman’s pinched frown and her assessing expression. “Could she give you any information?”

  “No. She doesn’t remember much and—” J.T. glanced toward the closed door “—she can’t—” his dark gaze fixed on Colin “—see.”

  “She’s blind?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because of the accident?” Colin’s heartbeat accelerated, his throat dry.

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk with the doctor yet.” J.T. started down the hallway. “If she remembers anything, let me know.”

  Colin stared at the door, a dull gray color. What had he done? Lord, give me the strength to help this woman.

  “You can go in now, Reverend.” Kirk’s voice cut into Colin’s prayer.

  He pushed open the door and entered the room. Bright sunlight streamed through the window and a large bouquet of yellow roses, an elaborate arrangement of lilies and a potted ivy plant already gr
aced the window ledge. Colin looked at the small woman in the bed, her eyes closed, the white sheet and a blanket pulled up over her chest as though she was cold. Her arm with the IV in it lay on top of the blue cover across her midsection.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. “Who’s there?” she whispered, a raw edge to her voice as though she wasn’t used to talking.

  Did I do this to her? The question kept playing over and over in Colin’s mind as he stood frozen a few feet from the bed. She looked so vulnerable with her face bruised and scratched, a bandaged shoulder peeking out from the top of the covers.

  “Who’s there?” Panic laced her words. She fumbled for the call button.

  Colin stiffened, aware he had caused her undue tension. “I’m Reverend Colin Fitzpatrick.”

  Her hand relaxing her search, she turned her head toward him, her brow creasing. “I didn’t ask for a clergyman to visit.”

  The defensiveness in her statement firmed his resolve. He would be here for her even if she didn’t think she needed his help. That was the least he could do. “I know.” He moved closer. “I thought you might like to talk to someone about your brother.”

  She shrank away from him, her hand clutching the blanket. Her eyes slid closed for a few seconds. “How do I know you’re a reverend? For all I know, you could be a member of the press. I’m sure they’re having a field day over this.”

  “If you want, I can get the nurse on duty to vouch for me.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t have anything to talk about.”

  But her expression told Colin otherwise. The sheen to her brown eyes and the trembling of her hand as she ran it over the blanket indicated her distress more than her words. She bit her teeth into her lower lip and looked away.

  Colin pulled a straight-backed chair close to the bed and sat, wanting to tell her how he came to be in her room.

  “You’re wasting your time, Reverend. I’m beyond saving.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Don’t you know who I am?”

  “Emma St. James.”