by Dana Mentink
“You have to go, Angela,” he said, continuing compressions.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes, a frown puckering her brow. He knew she was praying for him and Ralph, and that tender gesture from a woman who felt so far-flung from God rendered him breathless. He felt hopeful, filled with the very presence of the God who would not quit, the God who pursued His children even into the darkest corners, the hopeless chasms. He felt new energy course through him.
When she finished, he saw that it had not been easy for her.
“Thank you, Chaplain,” he whispered.
With an uncertain smile and one more squeeze of her hand, she ran into the darkness, sprinting across the platform and disappearing from view.
He was left alone. The rush of the water played a soothing counterpart to his compressions.
“Hey, Ralph,” he said. “I’m sorry you were alone down here. Stay with me awhile, okay? We’re going to do some praying, all right?”
And Dan did pray. He started with those he had not saved, their families.
Javier.
Smith.
Kesselman.
Guzman.
And he moved on to the others, as many as he could bring up. His hands continued to press against Ralph’s chest, as he prayed for those engaged in their own kind of battle, the ones who came home alive but still fought every day for their wholeness. Jeb, Angela, so many souls tortured by what they’d endured, yearning for a peace they could not find.
“And for you, Ralph,” he murmured. “Now we’re going to pray for you.”
He was still praying when Angela crawled back in, two paramedics right behind her. He gave them a quick overview and stepped away, exhausted, as they took over.
His arms ached from the compressions, his muscles depleted. Angela took his hand.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” he said, turning to her. The noise from the paramedics faded away and once again they were cocooned in shadows, with nothing but the sound of the water. “You prayed for me, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Tell me what you asked God for. Can you?”
She bit her lip. “I...I asked the Lord to give you the strength to do what He made you to do.”
Flickers of emotion cascaded through his body like droplets of water.
What He made you to do. Joy hitched up his breath for a second as he reconnected to the vine, the power of the Father. “And when you prayed,” he said carefully, “He gave you the strength to do what He made you to do.”
Her mouth twitched, eyes filling. “I’m not sure.”
He held her hands. “I’m sure.”
“Why would He call me to minister and then watch me fall apart?”
“I don’t know. Same reason He made me a doctor who can’t save all his patients.”
She stamped her foot. “Why would He do that?”
He smiled. “Beats me, but I’m going to ask Him someday.”
She laughed, an airy, bubbling peal of laughter that seemed to break through the gloom and ignite a sunrise in his heart. He pulled her to him, rocking her back and forth, until he felt her face upturned to his.
He kissed her forehead, her cheek. Her mouth hovered soft and inviting, a fraction of an inch away. Though he wanted to press a kiss there, he knew she was not ready.
And you’re not, either, he told himself. Not ready for love, ill prepared to offer up himself when he was not completely sure who he was anymore. Her head dropped, and she let out a quiet sigh. He took her hand, his own heart still beating hard in his chest.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
They climbed out, blinking against the sun. It seemed like a very long time since they’d crawled into that tunnel. Medics wrapped blankets around them and checked vitals. He watched them load Ralph into a waiting ambulance and speed away. It was unlikely the hospital would be able to revive the man. Dan swallowed. Though he’d never spoken a word to Ralph Pickford, he found himself desperately hoping he would live.
“Over to You now, God,” he whispered as he shook off the blanket.
* * *
Angela’s heart throbbed and, even with the blanket, she was cold to the bone. What had happened in that underground tomb? They’d found Lila and a stricken Ralph; someone had tried to drown them perhaps. But strangest of all, in that horrible place, she’d found the courage to pray again. It did not crowd away the numbing of her soul, but it had changed something. She’d felt a thread of divine connection, the barest glimmer. Did it mean healing at long last? Or false hope? She wished she had the courage to talk to Dan about it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Peter Gruber, who strode over while the medics checked Lila for injury.
“You two okay?”
“What were you doing down there?” Angela demanded, relieved to put aside her confusing thoughts.
Peter looked offended. “Saving you and Lila.”
Dan joined her. “We would have made it out just fine by ourselves.”
Peter shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
“How did you know Lila was down there?”
“I heard her talking to Tank on the phone. He just can’t leave her alone. I knew he would go after her, so I’ve been following her to protect her.”
“From Tank? Or your brother?”
“My brother has never done anything but help Lila, and she’ll tell you the same thing. I met Lila when I guest lectured at her dental hygiene school. I told Harry about her, and he helped her get through, hired her to work as my hygienist.”
“Don’t you hire your own people?” Dan asked.
He colored. “Ah, yes, usually, but financially things have been difficult, so my brother employs her technically, though she works for me.”
“Your brother is a real philanthropist. How does he pay for everything?”
Peter stiffened. “Not that it’s your business, but he inherited a trucking company from my uncle. He’s worked real hard to make it a success. He’s going to retire soon. Go live with his daughter and grandkids, who adore him, by the way.”
“So Harry is a stand-up guy, huh?” Dan said.
“Yes, he is, in spite of what he’s endured. He watched his wife die waiting for a kidney transplant that never came because the doctors gave them away to other people, richer people.”
Dan shook his head. “That’s not how it works. The OPTN manages the transplant list.” He looked at Angela. “That’s the Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network, and it’s based on need, not income or anything else.”
Peter huffed. “Don’t try to have that conversation with Harry. He’ll cut you into a million pieces. It’s up to the OPTN who gets a transplant, but it’s up to the transplant centers to collect payment. And if you can’t pay, too bad.”
Dan frowned. “Not true. Transplant centers have financial assistance to help patients arrange payment.”
“Maybe, but even if they had put Harry’s wife first on the list and she got the organ, he would have been ruined trying to pay for the surgery. Or the antirejection drugs that follow. Those are sometimes more costly than the surgery.”
“It sounds like Harry worked with the wrong transplant center.”
“You doctors,” Peter said. “So quick to put yourself on a pedestal and cast the blame elsewhere.”
“All right, let’s leave the topic for now,” Angela said. “Someone choked Ralph almost to death. Who do you think that was, Peter?”
He shrugged. “I don’t even know the guy.”
“And how about the valve?” She pushed the wet hair from her face. “The fire department people said someone opened it up from above while we were down there. Who would want to drown us?”
“I to
ld you. Tank is obsessed with Lila. He wants to own her. She’s told him to leave her alone, and he can’t accept it. He would rather see her die than be with anyone else.”
Anyone else? Angela thought. Did Peter think of himself as the man Lila really belonged with? Was Tank the delusional one, or Peter?
“I’ve discussed it with Lieutenant Torrey. He believes me that Tank is a stalker.”
That might explain the meeting between the two men that Jeb had witnessed. Peter hastened back to Lila, ushering her away from the medics and over to his car, which was parked near the hot dog vendor. They passed the police, who were just arriving. Angela braced herself for another round of questioning. Torrey was not going to be pleased at their latest escapade.
“Peter acts like Lila’s husband,” she said, watching Peter bend close to arrange the blanket around Lila’s shoulders, talking quietly in her ear.
“Does she feel that way, too?” Dan said.
Angela shook her head. “He may be in love with Lila, but I saw the look on her face. She doesn’t return the feeling.”
“Why go along with it then?” Dan said. “Why work for the guy and string him along?”
Their eyes locked.
“There’s only one emotion that I can think of that’s as strong as love,” Dan said.
Angela nodded slowly. “Fear.”
* * *
Angela was so exhausted when she returned to her hotel room, she could only manage to pull on some dry clothes and throw herself on the bed. She did not wake up until her cell buzzed sometime later.
“I can’t take it anymore. I’m ready to help you bring him down.”
Angela fought off the fuzziness. “Lila? Is that you?”
“Can you come meet me? Please? I’ll be at the clinic in forty-five minutes to get my things. Then I’m out of here.”
“Yes, but can’t we talk on the phone?”
“No. I’m going to give you the information, and then I’m leaving and I’m never coming back. Quinn and I are going to find someplace to live where the Grubers can’t find us.”
“But—”
“I’ll be at the clinic in forty-five minutes,” she repeated. “If you haven’t come by then...”
Lila disconnected.
Marco and Donna were still en route home from the airport, but she texted anyway so they would get the message when they landed. Her nerves were buzzing, hyperalert. She wanted to go put an end to it, to find the piece that would help Tank, and she wanted to do it alone. Her growing feelings for Dan confused her; added to the pile of emotions that had built up inside. Her heart was just too frayed, too tattered to handle her confusion over Dan.
But Angela was not a careless person, nor overly impulsive, at least she had not been before Kandahar. It was prudence, good judgment that made her place a call to Dan, her pulse pounding while she waited for him to pick up. He did not answer, so she left a message and checked her watch.
Forty minutes left. She began to pace, checking her phone to see if she had missed a message from Dan. Nothing.
The time ticked down. Thirty minutes. It would take her ten to drive over. She stalled for another few minutes.
At twenty minutes to the meeting time, she grabbed her keys.
She would go, park on the curb in a nice public spot and wait for Dan. They’d approach Lila together, and if Lila left before Dan arrived, Angela would follow her.
She rushed out, surprised to see through the window that it was raining again. Ten minutes left. There was no time to go back for a jacket.
She hit the elevator button and hopped inside. Just before the doors closed, someone jogged up. Her breath caught as Harry Gruber stepped in.
“Hello, Chaplain,” he said, pressing the button to close the doors.
NINETEEN
Dan changed quickly into dry clothes and drove immediately back to the hospital, where they told him that Ralph was still alive, barely. The emergency room doctors had managed to start his heart again.
A fact kept poking at Dan’s mind. The bandage on Ralph’s back, a newly changed bandage. Why did the detail keep resurfacing? He knew they would have done a quick scan to check for internal bleeding. If Dan was charming enough, maybe one of technicians would share some info.
He saw Patricia Lane start down the hallway. She tried to reverse directions when she caught sight of him, but he confronted her anyway.
“You heard about Ralph?”
She nodded.
“He’s still alive,” Dan said.
“I know.” She looked exhausted, eyes red rimmed as if she might have been crying. “It’s terrible what happened to him. He is a kind man, gentle. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“He had a bandaged wound on his lower back.”
She seemed to go rigid, as if a cold wind had blown through the corridor.
“Was he seen here? Treated at this hospital for kidney problems of any kind?”
She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. Not by me, anyway.”
“But you would know. If he’d been a kidney patient, you would know.”
“Yes. I would.”
He searched her face. “Patricia, what is going on here?”
“Just ordinary hospital business.” Her mouth twitched.
“Then why do you look scared?”
He saw her throat convulse. “Maybe because my son-in-law is gravely ill? Isn’t that enough reason to be scared?”
“It’s just odd that Ralph was here at this hospital talking to you, a kidney specialist, yet you say you never treated him.”
“I didn’t. There is no record in the system of him having been my patient. The police can confirm that.”
“Lieutenant Torrey? Would he contradict you? The woman who is trying to save his son?”
Her eyes flamed. “I resent the implication, Dr. Blackwater. You are impugning my reputation and now Max’s, too. Who do you think you are?”
“Just a guy trying to get to the core of a bad situation.”
“You’re imagining some sort of plot where there isn’t any.”
“Am I?”
“You have no rights, no authority here.” She stepped back. “You don’t belong in this hospital, Dr. Blackwater, until your leave is over, if it is ever going to be over. I’m going to have to ask you to go.”
“Who are you covering up for?”
“Do I need to call security to provide you an escort?”
He stared at her. “I know you’re a good doctor, Patricia, and I know you wouldn’t be involved in anything unless you didn’t have a choice. Let me help you.”
She reached for her phone. “I’m calling security.”
“No need,” he said. “I’ll go.” He walked away, feeling Patricia’s gaze following his progress. He’d always felt comfort from the tidy hallways, the open doors where people were receiving the lifesaving help they needed. Now? The air closed in on him, oppressive, ominous.
Outside, he saw the message on his phone from Angela and jogged to his truck. In fifteen minutes he was at the clinic. Angela had not yet arrived.
He sat, mulling over the encounter with Patricia.
“You’re imagining some sort of plot where there isn’t any.”
Was he? There could be many different explanations for the bandage on Ralph’s back. Had he just alienated a colleague with his wild innuendo? A brilliant, hardworking colleague who was suffering under her own heavy burden?
Jeb called him a moment later. “You were right. I’ve got a friend in the imaging department. She did the scan on Ralph Pickford. She tells me, off the record of course, that Ralph had a kidney removed in the recent past, probably a couple of months or so ago. How did you know that?”
A cold ball crystallized
inside him.
“Thanks, Jeb,” he said, hanging up without answering.
A kidney removed. And he’d been at the hospital talking to Patricia Lane, a kidney surgeon who claimed she was merely giving him lunch, nothing more.
“Oh, Patricia,” he muttered. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
* * *
Angela felt the press of the cold metal wall behind her. Harry Gruber stood in front of the doors and pushed the emergency stop button. Her body went rigid with fear. “Let me out,” she demanded.
“Not until we’ve had our chat,” he said.
She frantically pressed buttons on her phone, only to see the no-signal message come up. Stay calm, she told herself. You know some basic self-defense. You can handle this.
He wore a tan jacket, his hands balled into the pockets. Holding a weapon?
She edged as far away as she could.
He stared at her, not speaking, until a bead of sweat ran down the side of her face.
“You’ve been so busy gallivanting around Cobalt Cove,” he finally said, “we have hardly had a moment to talk. How do you like our little town, by the way? It’s not for me, living on the Central Coast, but my wife loved it. I’m more of a full-time sun guy, which is why I’m going to retire in San Diego with my daughter, Jen.” He smiled. “Jen’s an amazing woman. Single parent raising kids and a CPA to boot. She turned out well in spite of me.”
She gulped, forcing strength into her voice that she did not feel. “I don’t like being intimidated in elevators.”
“Am I intimidating you?” He frowned. “I thought we were just talking.”
“I know you’re trying to kill Tank, and you’ve got Lila running scared, no matter what your brother says.”
“Oh, my brother.” Harry sighed. “How can a man smart enough to obtain a dental degree be so incredibly dense? He actually believes Lila has feelings for him. That she’ll marry him someday and he’ll be a loving daddy to her boy. Even if he hadn’t gambled all his financial security away, she has nothing for him but pity, and he’s the only one who can’t see that.”