Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  The noise that birthed from her throat when he lifted her was low and feral. John winced and laid her on the backseat of his vehicle. The drive to the medical center was slow for her sake. When he banged on the door, Matthias emerged in the waiting area.

  “It’s Andra. Get me a gurney and go get Dr. Fenton.”

  Matthias didn’t argue, he just got the bed and together they placed Andra on it. John wheeled her in and Dr. Fenton’s first words were, “You moved her?”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  The doctor’s eyes were hard. “There is always a choice.” He tugged the gurney through a set of swinging doors with Matthias helping. “Wait out here. And pray you didn’t do further damage.”

  The door swung closed.

  John wheeled around and kicked the wall, his boot going straight through the drywall. He gripped the sides of his head.

  “Dad?”

  John lowered his hands and spun around.

  “What’s going on?” Pat was still in yesterday’s clothes, now rumpled like they’d been left in the dryer.

  John crouched and Pat moved into his arms. “Andra was hurt. The doctor is going to help her.” John prayed this was true, that her injuries weren’t so extensive she needed what doctor Fenton couldn’t provide. “How is Aaron?”

  Pat shrugged. “He didn’t wake up yet.”

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yeah. Matthias brought a bed in from another room so I could sleep on it and he slept on the chair. So we were all in the same room.”

  “Want to run to the diner and get everyone breakfast?” Hopefully it would be open.

  “I could do that.” Pat nodded. “For all of us, Matthias and doctor Fenton and you and Andra, and Aaron?”

  “If you can carry all that. We’ll have to find out what Aaron and Andra are allowed to eat.”

  “Can I get Aaron’s golf cart? I think I can reach the peddles.”

  “How about, no.”

  Pat pouted, but bounced back fast like kids do. He wrapped his arm around John’s neck.

  John stood, holding his son in a hug for a moment while Pat’s legs dangled. Probably he needed the embrace more than Pat did. “Love you, buddy.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  “Sheriff?”

  John turned to the doctor and set Pat down. “How is she?”

  “Not good.”

  John followed him into the examination room, where Matthias had his sleeves rolled up. He snapped off a pair of bloody gloves and said to Pat, “Did I hear something about breakfast?”

  John mouthed, Thank you.

  Pat was trying to glance around him, to see Andra. John waited until Matthias reached him and then moved aside to let the younger man out. Just before he shut the door, John heard Matthias and Pat start talking about pancakes versus waffles.

  Andra’s cheek was bandaged and she had been dressed in a gown. Her eyes were open.

  “Hey.” He touched her cheek, keeping it light and to the areas not so bruised. She’d been worked over and good.

  He turned to the doctor, praying she hadn’t seen what he felt on his face. “She’ll recover?”

  Doctor Fenton nodded. “Multiple bruises. Cracked, possibly broken ribs. We’ll do an x-ray and I’ve already called our ultrasound tech in to check the abdomen for internal bleeding. Ms. Caleri needs to stay and be monitored for her pain until I’m satisfied she’s stable enough to get up.”

  John blew out a breath and looked back at her. Andra’s lips moved, but no sound came out. “What is it, honey?”

  “John…”

  “Who did this to you?”

  Fear sparked in her open eye. Who had taken her from the holding cell and beaten the tar out of her?

  Andra reached up and touched his jaw. Her fingers were chilled. John realized he was clenching his teeth.

  “Tell me who did this to you.” He didn’t care if it sounded like he was pleading. John should have heard her being taken. He should have come back down after he’d called Grant instead of falling asleep on his couch.

  He’d known how the town felt about Andra, so why hadn’t he seen this coming? Now she was barely hanging on, breathing shallow like it hurt. Even cleaned up and bandaged there was still blood everywhere.

  Her gaze flickered back and forth across his face. “Don’t.”

  “Too late.” He took a breath. “Tell me who did this.”

  She shut her good eye and shook her head. A tiny motion he wouldn’t have seen if he hadn’t been looking right at her.

  “You don’t know, or you won’t tell me?”

  She stared at him, imparting something with her gaze that he didn’t want to know and wasn’t going to listen to anyway.

  “At some point your principles are going to have to give out. Especially if I’m going to find whoever did this to you.” John backed away from the bed and turned to doctor Fenton. “Keep me posted.”

  Matthias met him in the hall with breakfast. “What’s your plan?”

  John looked at him. He didn’t look tired. Apparently the guy was young enough that sleeping on a hospital chair wasn’t a problem. “Can you call Bolton? Tell him I want him here since now there are two people to protect.”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, and tell him to find Nadia Marie. Andra’s going to need her friend with her.”

  Matthias grinned. “Definitely.”

  Chapter 22

  Andra’s whole body hurt. But the ache would likely be excruciating without whatever was dripping into her from the IV. The dull murmur of humanity broke the silence of her room in the medical center, while she stared at the ceiling tiles. The light fixture. The sprinkler heads. The corner of the wall…was that a spider web? Gross.

  She couldn’t close her eyes. If she did, she’d be back in the dark, surrounded by black figures. Being punched, hit with something hard. Kicked in the face, the stomach. The boot print on her abdomen hadn’t come out of nowhere.

  At least doctor Fenton agreed to not tell John. The law man would insist on seeing her stomach, which would lead to photos and a written report. Not to mention the look in John’s eyes that she wasn’t ever in her whole life going to forget. If he found out who had abducted and attacked her, he was liable to put his job in jeopardy.

  Nothing about this needed to be documented. Her file was full enough already. She didn’t need more to make her look like the sad victim of a bunch of thugs, even if she could identify the instigator. She’d seen him with her good eye after he grabbed her chin and turned her face to his.

  An eye for an eye.

  Hardly, since if they wanted to repay her for Betty’s death she should be dead now. Or maybe they figured her lying here suffering the damage they’d inflicted was worse. As for the mayor, he must have been sure she killed Betty if he was willing to incriminate himself by making such a statement. Or did he know she wouldn’t press charges? Maybe she should, although it was in poor taste since the man was grieving.

  Andra snorted, which hurt a lot.

  She turned her head and felt her eyes widen. Pat stood in the open doorway, holding a cup with a lid and a straw.

  He didn’t move. “Hi.”

  She let her gaze drift away from him. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  Not because here wasn’t safe, it just wasn’t fine with her heart. Pat was John’s son and there would never be a relationship between Andra and the kid’s father that would make Pat anything to her. He’d said it himself, “We’re not going anywhere”. It wasn’t worth knowing Pat better and seeing what she’d be missing. Andra didn’t need any more regrets.

  “I brought you some breakfast. Doctor Fenton said you could have a smoothie and Sam at the diner said you like mango. But he didn’t have any so it’s strawberry.” His voice was small, like he wasn’t sure if she might leap from the bed any moment and attack him.

  “Thank you.” Andra held out her hand, the one with the plastic bracelet. She felt the bandage on her face w
hen she smiled. It was hard to hold the expression and breathe around her tightly wrapped ribs. Thank you, God, they were only cracked in two places and nothing was broken—or sticking into her lungs. That would’ve been a lot worse.

  Pat gingerly stepped over and set the cup in her hand. She took a sip and put it down, even though twisting hurt. Pat hadn’t moved. “Did you really used to kill people?”

  He was a kid, sure. But Andra didn’t like lying.

  She nodded.

  His eyes flared wide for a second. “Did you ever kill a kid?”

  Was he worried what she would do to him? “No, never.”

  “Maybe they deserved it, like when Batman kills people because they’re bad.”

  Andra didn’t say anything. The world was an ugly place, brutal and somehow beautiful at the same time. But the beauty was only there if she looked hard enough—like into the eyes of a child who wanted to believe the best in her. How was that even possible? She had no right to accept that much faith from another human being after everything she’d done. Maybe it was just Pat and his need to see the good, even where he’d been tossed aside by both his parents at one time.

  Andra couldn’t receive it, even if Pat wanted to give her his trust and believe she could be good until she proved otherwise. She couldn’t let herself melt at the feeling, because then what held her together now would crumble. Pat didn’t need to see her crying. Still, Andra felt her eyes burn. The swollen one hurt a lot. She looked away.

  “Oh my gosh!” Nadia Marie’s clippy footsteps entered the room. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

  Andra opened her eyes to answer her friend.

  Nadia Marie was crouched in front of Pat, her hands on his shoulders. “That must have been just awful, finding Aaron like that!”

  Andra felt the humor bubble up from her stomach. Even so, the feeling emerged from her mouth as full-on laughter. Ouch. Her stomach hurt and the sound was corroded from disuse, but she could still do it. Who knew? The realization made her laugh even louder. They must have hit her in the head pretty hard if she found anything funny about this. But what else was she going to do? There were too many people in the room for her to cry.

  Nadia Marie looked over, her brow furrowed like she was concerned for her friend’s sanity. Beyond her, Bolton Farrera stood in at the door. His mouth twitched. Andra swallowed her laughter and groaned. “That hurt.”

  Pat smiled. Nadia Marie straightened and folded her arms, nothing but sass on her face. “Glad you’re feeling okay. You look like someone ran you over.”

  “Actually, they left that part out.”

  “They?”

  Andra shot a pointed look in Pat’s direction and shook her head.

  Bolton motioned Pat over with a wave. “Why don’t you go see if Matthias needs anything?”

  Pat straightened, but Andra couldn’t see his face. “So you can talk about adult stuff I’m not supposed to know about?”

  Bolton didn’t react. “Yes.”

  Pat sighed and padded out of the room.

  Nadia Marie whipped around and flounced to Andra’s bedside. “That is one stinkin’ cute kid.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  She settled on the bed, the humor gone from her eyes. “How are you?”

  Andra wanted to shrug and brush it off, but that wasn’t how their friendship worked. “It’ll take a few weeks. I’ll be okay.” She paused. “For right now, it hurts like my body is more bruises than not.”

  Bolton was still at the door, looking at Nadia Marie like she was an anomaly he couldn’t figure out. Served him right. It was too late to notice her now.

  Andra glanced at Nadia Marie. Her friend’s eyes went wide, like, “What is he still doing here?”

  Andra smiled. “Did you need something, Bolton?”

  “What—uh, yeah.” He strode further in the room. Suddenly all business, folding his arms. “You think you can ID who did this to you?”

  Andra shifted on the bed, which was a good idea but painful in execution.

  Nadia gasped. “You know.”

  She glanced at her friend. “Nadia—”

  “No.” Nadia Marie jumped up from the bed. “If you know who did this to you then you have to tell. You want them to get away with it?”

  “Most of them I couldn’t tell you who they are.”

  Bolton said, “But…”

  “Everyone in town believes I killed Betty. They’re going to think I’m only saying it out of spite. No one is going to take my word for it except John and it won’t help him. I’m not going to be responsible for his downfall.”

  Nadia Marie touched her arm. “You don’t think he’ll do the right thing?”

  “He’ll think it’s the right thing.” She shifted her arm to draw it away from Nadia’s attempt to connect with her. She wasn’t going to budge on this. “If he believes me, then it’s going to undermine his standing with the town.”

  Bolton said, “So it was the mayor.”

  Andra squeezed her eyes shut.

  “He shouldn’t have done that to you.” Nadia’s voice was quiet. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or what he thinks you did, it wasn’t okay for him to hurt you like this.”

  She knew that. In theory.

  “But you’re going to keep quiet because of John?”

  Andra looked at her friend.

  “You are,” Nadia said. “You think you’re saving him.”

  “It’s noble.” Bolton tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “But you’re still going to have to live in the same town as the people who did this to you.” He motioned to her face.

  “Except not, if I’m leaving town on Monday’s transport to be put on trial for Betty’s murder.”

  Nadia Marie straightened. “We need to find a way you can stay, and the mayor can pay for what he did.”

  Bolton’s attention was on Andra. “Do you think he killed Betty?”

  She thought about it. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “They weren’t exactly friendly.” Nadia nodded. “I say it’s definitely possible.”

  “Either way, someone is going to end up leaving town.” Andra shrugged one shoulder. “What does it matter if it’s me?”

  Now she’d had time to think on it, why wouldn’t she come to the conclusion being away from John was best? What was the good of seeing him every day and knowing what couldn’t be? Surely a clean break, and the separation of miles and a murder sentence, would be preferable. It wasn’t like the conviction would be untrue; she just hadn’t murdered this particular victim.

  Whether she ended up in a jail cell or she was free to live on her mountain, she was still the same sinner saved by grace through faith.

  Nadia’s eyes flashed wide and full of hurt. “You’re going to let them do this to you?”

  “You mean, am I going to do this to you?”

  “I’m not being selfish.”

  Andra bit her lip. “But you don’t want to lose your friend.”

  Tears filled Nadia’s eyes. “How am I going to live here without you?”

  Andra swallowed.

  She hadn’t thought of that.

  **

  Dotty twisted around in her chair. “Susan seems content enough. I met the First Lady and her daughter last night for dinner. Sam treated them like they were royalty.”

  John smiled. “Good.”

  “Beth is harder to read, but I’m guessing she has a lot on her mind at the moment. With her husband being gone.”

  She probably did, given the attempts on both of their lives and her husband being out of contact. Having no idea when he was going to be home. The Navy SEAL didn’t even know what was happening to her.

  John looked at the flip calendar on his desk. He turned three pages until it was on the right month and tracked down to the day he and Pat had arrived in town. Tomorrow it would be a full week since they set down in the helicopter and were driven into town by Matthias. How had so much happened in just a handful of days?
>
  But the upheaval was likely to continue. There were only three more full days before Monday’s transport took Andra away. And no way he could stop it. Not when the town, Justice Simmons, Grant, Congressman Thane and the President were all pressuring John to get a result.

  Given Andra’s silence, it would be the wrong one.

  And yet, why was there this niggle of doubt that maybe Andra had done it? That would at least explain why everyone seemed to think she had, more than just out of spite for the one person in town who refused to be one of them. What if he took a page from Andra’s book and refused to bow to their dictates? The sheriff didn’t answer to the town, although Grant’s authority was clear even if he wasn’t here. Congressman Thane was a gray area.

  John didn’t have to send her on Monday’s transport. He didn’t have to send anyone, even if they demanded it of him. If he wasn’t certain who the killer was, then he shouldn’t do it.

  “Is Andra talking?”

  John pushed aside his thoughts and looked over at Dotty. “Bolton spoke with her.”

  “Did she say who attacked her?”

  He shook his head. “She wouldn’t admit it, so all Bolton could get from her was a statement as to the details. A blow-by-blow.” That had been fun to read.

  “Do you think it was Betty’s killer?”

  “I think it was simple revenge by people who believe she killed Betty. But unless she can identify them or we can nail down who in town has bloody knuckles this morning, there isn’t much we can do about it.”

  Dotty shifted in her chair. “So we just have to go on as if everything is fine? As if we’re not living in town with a person who will stab a woman in the stomach multiple times, and gangs who are little better than lynch mobs spreading their hatred and hurting a possibly innocent woman.”

  “Basically, yes.”

  She shook her white hair. “I don’t like it.”

  John felt the smile on his lips. “Me either.”

  “You know, your desk phone has this function where you can dial all the phones in town at once, sort of like an intercom thing. You could make an announcement. Call a town meeting and get everyone together where you can check their hands for cuts and bruises like they’ve been in a fight. Or see who is missing.”