by Lori Ryan
Cal shoved open doors in front of him as they moved down the stairs. Every muscle in his body screamed at him, straining to do enough, to be enough to get Carrie out of the building. Cal turned and took some of the weight of the chair on him.
They pushed out the last of the doors, sucking for air as they burst into the open. What had been empty and quiet earlier, was now filled with the commands and swift, steady movement of firefighters jumping from their rigs.
A pair tried to take the chair Carrie was chained to out of their hands, but neither Cal nor Jarrod released her. Jarrod ignored the shouted commands to let EMTs get an air mask on him. He was staying next to Carrie. He watched as one responder placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose and a fire fighter began to cut the chains from her chair, letting them lift her to a stretcher.
“Move back, detective! That’s an order.” Jarrod was surprised to see his chief of detectives on the scene. He stepped back, but only far enough to let more people in to help Carrie. He swatted at a hand that tried to place a mask over his nose.
“Detective Harmon!” Jarrod cut a glance his superior’s way, then grabbed the mask and sucked in some of the oxygen as he watched Carrie. Her eyes weren’t opening. She wasn’t responding.
Deep down inside of him, in a place he’d protected for a hell of a long time, something cracked. He knew in that moment, he wouldn’t ever be the same. That part of him he’d hidden away would die if this woman in front of him didn’t wake up.
Chapter 30
Carrie heard shouting and…chaos—that was the only way to describe it. Chaos. She struggled to open her eyes but her lids felt heavy, as if weighted down somehow.
Her hands came up to her face. There was something on her face and she wanted it off, but her arms were stiff and sore. Memories flashed before her. They were wispy and faint, but there was enough there for her to remember Tyvek, and the fire.
Jarrod. Jarrod was in the fire with her.
She thrashed as she realized he was in the fire. He needed to leave. He needed to get to safety.
“Carrie! Carrie, stay still. Let them treat you.” Jarrod’s voice came through her fog, and she fought to open her eyes. There. He was right there, covered in soot and sweat and filth, but he was there.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Sharp pain hit her throat with the effort to speak and tears sprang free. She felt burning in her throat and lungs, as if the fire itself had a chokehold on her.
“Don’t talk, baby.” Jarrod had moved back, letting the EMTs in again to work on her, and she realized she had an IV in one arm and a mask over her face.
She kept her eyes on Jarrod, ignoring the cold chill of the liquids pumping into her arm. She wanted to tell him it was Tyvek. That they needed to look for William Tyvek. Her eyes shot to the building as she realized he might still be in there.
Her thoughts swirled together in a random maze and she closed her eyes. Her whole body felt tired. Overwhelmingly tired.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift, feeling the movement of the gurney as she was moved toward the ambulance. She wanted to open her eyes to see if Jarrod was still with her. Somehow, she needed him to be there, to be by her side. He was her safety net, she realized. She felt safe if he was with her.
She couldn’t open them, though. The exhaustion took hold. She thought she heard Jarrod’s voice. Thought he might have said he was riding along, but she couldn’t be sure. Her mind lost its hold on consciousness as the ambulance began to move and she let herself go.
Chapter 31
Jarrod stood to one side as the doctors explained Carrie’s condition to Mr. and Mrs. Hastings. He should give them more privacy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and the family hadn’t asked him to leave. Cal stood beside him. No doubt the family assumed they were there in their official capacity, but they were there because he simply couldn’t leave. He couldn’t go home and shower and rest and leave Carrie without knowing if she was going to be okay. She hadn’t woken again on the way to the hospital. He and Cal had been quickly seen and cleared before coming to the waiting room where the Hastings waited for news of their daughter.
Carrie was hurt. Seriously hurt, and he blamed himself. Why hadn’t he looked harder at Tyvek? They’d known all along something was off in this case. He should have caught the clues earlier.
There was a manhunt on in the city, all hands looking for William Tyvek. Ronan and Zach would head it up until he and Cal could get back out there. For once, though, Jarrod didn’t want to jump back into the fight. He wasn’t itching to get out on the streets.
The fire department had put out the multiple fires Tyvek had set, and were working their way through the burned-out building to be sure Tyvek hadn’t died in the fire, but they hadn’t found any sign of him yet.
Jarrod was glad this doctor seemed to be speaking in English instead of medical jargon.
“I’m afraid we won’t know the extent of the damage to her esophagus and lungs for another few hours. We’ve sedated her and we’re scoping right now to see what her injuries are. Her airway was compromised when she arrived. We were forced to intubate to keep her airway open.”
Jarrod heard Carrie’s mother choke on a sob and he felt the same way. Intubation always seemed serious.
“We won’t know about damage to her brain until she wakes up,” the doctor continued, not pulling her punches at all.
Jarrod stepped forward. “She was awake and talking to us at the scene. Shouldn’t that count for something?” Please, God, let it count for something.
The doctor nodded. “It does. It’s a good sign.” There was hesitation, though. “The chemicals, the smoke, all deprive the cells of oxygen. The damage can occur over time. The healing will be the same way. Some of this will be a waiting game. We’re going to keep her sedated.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Mr. Hastings, a tall thin man who had the look of what he was: an investor. Jarrod knew he worked in mutual funds or something like that.
The doctor left and Jarrod saw the Hastings turn to one another as Mr. Hastings put his arms around his wife.
Jarrod turned away.
“Detective?” Carrie’s mom spoke softly, but there was a steel to it Jarrod recognized as a mother’s steel. The strength she would likely use to hold Carrie up through all of this. There were times in his life he’d heard that strength from his friends’ moms.
He turned back. “Yes, ma’am?”
“You knew Carrie, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” He didn’t know if she meant knew Carrie through the investigation, or knew her better than a cop should know the witnesses in his case, or what. He wasn’t about to volunteer any more information.
“You were at the gala with her. You danced together.”
He nodded. “Several times.”
She kept her assessing gaze on him a moment, before turning away with a nod. She didn’t seem to think anything of it when he and Cal sat down to wait. If this had been anyone other than Carrie, he’d be out on the streets looking for Tyvek. It’s where he should be. He was a cop, to the core. It’s what he did, who he was.
But he was starting to realize, the job no longer had to define him. He could change that now, if he wanted. He could still be a good detective. Still work for justice, to keep the peace, to put away those who tried to harm others. But he could also let himself have more in life.
He could let himself have Carrie. If she’d have him.
Three days. Jarrod hadn’t gone back to work. He’d taken some of the vacation time he had saved up and spent most of his time in the hospital. He’d gone home to catch a few hours of sleep and shower here and there, but he wanted to be close by when Carrie woke up. He hadn’t been able to wait in the ward. Intensive Care was for family. He wasn’t that.
After the first day, Carrie’s father had seen him sitting outside the ward. He started coming out from time-to-time to update Jarrod. Updates consisted of a lot of “she’s still
sleeping,” and “they’re going to keep her under a little longer.” There hadn’t been much news since the doctor had said he was hopeful that when the swelling went down, her throat and esophagus would heal. The damage to her lungs would take time to heal. It wouldn’t be an easy path and she might have some long-standing difficulties if she tried to run a marathon, but they were hopeful.
What they still didn’t know, was how cognitive she’d be. Whether there would be damage to her brain function. She might have confusion, forgetfulness. She might not be able to return to work right away. She might not be the same person.
Tommy had surprised Jarrod by showing up with coffee and a sandwich for him that afternoon. His brother had acted like it was no big deal, but Jarrod knew better. That wasn’t something his brother would have ever done in the past.
“I was at the house seeing TJ and Val and thought you might need some food. I told her I’d run it up.”
Jarrod tried to hide the surprise. “You and TJ have a good visit?”
“Yeah.” Tommy shrugged. “He didn’t want to go anywhere. Just wanted to show me stuff he’d been working on at school and shit, but that’s okay.” A look of uncertainty crossed Tommy’s face. “I think maybe he didn’t feel okay going anywhere with me without his mom right now. I guess I can’t blame him for that.”
Jarrod nodded. That was as close as admitting he’d screwed up as Tommy had ever come. Jarrod didn’t need to push for more. He just hoped like hell this might be a real turning point for Tommy.
An hour after Tommy took off, Jarrod’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he stepped down the hall to a quiet spot to answer the call.
“Yeah, Cal, what’s up?”
“Calling to check in? You at the hospital?”
“Yeah.” Jarrod didn’t expand. His partner knew this was where he’d be until Carrie woke up. He wasn’t sure Cal understood it, and there seemed to be a slight wall building between he and Cal, but he couldn’t explain it. He felt the need to see Carrie the minute she woke up. To talk to her and see if she was still there. To tell her what he was feeling for her and see if she felt the same.
“Any change?” He did hear concern in Cal’s voice and was grateful Cal asked.
“No, but her dad hasn’t come out for a while. Last time I heard from him was three hours ago.”
He could hear the silence hanging thick and heavy on the line and knew Cal wanted to tell him to go home. To get some rest and wait for a call saying she’d woken up. He rubbed at his forehead. Maybe that’s what he should do. Maybe this was stupid.
Jarrod broke through the silence. “Any news on Tyvek?”
“Nothing. He’s vanished. No record of him leaving the country. His private plane hasn’t made any flights, and he hasn’t been on anything commercial.”
“Maybe he took a friend’s plane with a falsified passport. I don’t know if they’re all that careful with passports and stuff with those private flights.” Jarrod had no idea if Tyvek would come after Carrie again or not. The department hadn’t posted a guard on her. The fact that Tyvek had come back to release her during that fire had to mean something. Jarrod just hoped like hell it meant the man didn’t plan to come after her again.
Nothing about Tyvek’s actions made sense.
“It’s possible.” Cal didn’t sound convinced. He sounded tired. Worn out. “Or maybe he bugged out to some other part of the country. He’s got too many damned resources he can fall back on.”
The door of the intensive care unit swung open at the other end of the hall and Carrie’s father waved to Jarrod. The look on his face told Jarrod this wasn’t another update without much information.
“I gotta go, Cal.” He hung up and hustled down the hall toward Mr. Hastings.
“What is it? Is Carrie awake?”
The man nodded. “She is. She’s talking a little. She seems mostly okay, but she doesn’t seem to remember much of what happened. She’s confused. She asked if she was in a car accident. They’re calling in a neurologist, but so far, they said this is not unexpected.”
“Can I see her?” Jarrod held his breath. Couldn’t help it. He had no standing to be there. He could argue he wanted in as an officer, to question her. Not only would it be a lie, it would also likely backfire. No one wanted a loved one questioned. Hell, he didn’t want her to go through that. He just wanted to be with her. To see with his own eyes that she was okay. That she was safe.
Her father nodded. “Just for a minute.”
They walked silently down the hall. When he entered the room, Carrie’s face swung to his and she smiled, but it was the polite smile he’d first seen on her face when he’d met her months earlier.
It hit him like a ton of bricks. He wanted to see the smile he’d come to look for in her eyes. The one that filled her face with light, that lit her from the inside out and warmed him head to toe.
“Carrie,” her mother said, a hint of unease in her voice as if she’d also realized what Carrie’s expression meant. “You remember Detective Harmon.”
“Detective.” Carrie didn’t add more. There was no hint of recognition. Nothing.
She didn’t know him.
Her brow creased and she glanced from Jarrod to her mother and back again.
“Is something wrong, mom?” She said quietly, uncertainty washing over her features. “Is everything okay?”
“Carrie,” Mr. Hastings said, moving toward the bed, leaving Jarrod to stand by himself. “Detective Harmon was working on a case before the, uh, before you were checked into the hospital. Do you remember any of that?”
Carrie’s eyes darted between her parents and back to Jarrod. He could see fear there and understood. Not knowing, not remembering, was throwing her into panic, and he got that. He backed out of the room. “I’ll come back,” he said quietly. “I’ll give you some time.”
Jarrod walked out of the room and moved down the hall, needing air. He felt like a vice had clamped down on his chest and the air was being shoved from his lungs as his bones shattered under the pressure.
It was his own damned fault. Carrie was clearly not okay. Something had happened during that fire, and she wasn’t okay. And that was on him.
He hit the stairs and jogged down them. He needed outside. Needed fresh air in his lungs and the smell of the hospital out of his nose.
Seeing a blank look on Carrie’s face when she looked at him gutted him. It left him with an emptiness he didn’t know how to handle. Didn’t know if he could.
Chapter 32
“It’s okay, really. I’ll be fine alone for a few hours.” Carrie didn’t feel nearly as confident as she was trying to sound. Worry etched her mother’s face and her dad looked equally concerned, but she knew they hadn’t slept nearly as much as they should have in the last two days. When they realized she had no memory of the kidnapping, they’d told her a brief version of the events. No one was sure how Tyvek had gotten her out of the clinic, and she didn’t remember.
She understood her parents’ fear after what had happened. She was frightened, too. But, they needed to go home and rest and shower and change. She had patrol officers driving by her home, and her townhouse had a concierge at the front door who was strict about only allowing in residents and registered guests. She truly would be safe here until her parents came back.
“Why don’t you come stay at home, honey?” Her dad asked for the tenth time, and her mother nodded her agreement. They still thought of their home as her home, even though she’d moved out over a decade before.
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m going to lay down for a bit. I’ll probably still be asleep by the time you get back.”
“We can go in shifts. You go first, Richard. I’ll go when you get back.”
“No, mom. You go too. Both of you.” Carrie herded her parents toward the door. She’d felt out of sorts since the doctors had realized she had a big memory gap. They said it was likely only a temporary effect from the chemicals and smoke she’d inhaled. Things wo
uld probably come back to her as she went about her business, they said. Well, she was ready to go about her business.
That wasn’t true. She wasn’t ready to go back to work, or even step foot out of her house, but she wanted to shower in peace and curl up on her couch and process everything that had happened since she’d woken in the hospital. She needed a few minutes alone without people hovering over her.
Thirty minutes later, she emerged from her room, clean and in loose silk pants with a stretch tee top and flip flops. She was debating between a cup of hot chocolate or a glass of wine when the wall phone rang. Since it wasn’t hooked up to anything other than the front desk, Carrie knew it would be one of the front desk concierges.
“Hello,” she hugged the phone to her shoulder as she reached for a mug. Chocolate was winning out over wine, partially in deference to the time of day. It was only three o’clock in the afternoon.
“Hello, Ms. Hastings. There’s a Detective Harmon here to see you. He has the proper credentials and I’ve called the New Haven police department to verify his identity. Shall I send him up?”
Carrie smiled at the thoroughness of the concierge. She appreciated that they were going above and beyond right now for her. “Yes, thank you.”
She pushed aside the mug and walked to the front entranceway to wait for the detective. A strange sense of peace came over her and she realized she felt safer than she had in days, though she couldn’t say why.
A soft knock told her he’d arrived and she opened the door. When Detective Harmon had left her hospital room the other day, she’d realized she did have more memories of him than she’d first thought. It was like the doctors had said. She had fragments of things coming back to her. A memory of the many times he’d interviewed her. Flashes of dancing with him at the gala as he questioned her about the donors to the clinic.