“Yeah.” He pressed the accelerator and cranked the wheel until he pulled alongside the ambulance. Dust and gravel flew as he slammed on the brakes. Diane flashed her badge as they all approached the paramedics. The agitated soccer mom stumbled back, her face flushed, before she hurried the paramedics, with their gear, down a narrow trail in the forest.
Diane, Sam, and Jesse followed behind and said nothing, listening to the information the woman rambled off. After a short hike in, Sam saw a dirt bike, with its front wheel bent, lying tangled in a blackberry brush. And he saw the still form of his woman, stretched out, scraped and bleeding, with her right ankle bent at an awkward angle.
Something erupted inside of him. He must have roared, as he bolted past the paramedics and skidded down beside Marcie. Someone grabbed him. He didn’t think. He just swung his fist. The next thing he knew, he had been tackled from behind and pinned face down in the dirt, Jesse on top of him.
“Calm down now. Let the paramedics help her.”
“Get off me, Jesse. I need to get to her.” His arm twisted up higher behind him.
“Are you going to hit me again?” Jesse asked.
His adrenaline still pumped, but his head was now clearer. Where had that angry beast come from? “No, I didn’t mean to hit you. Let me up. I need to see how she is.”
When Jesse stood, Sam rolled over. Two average white male paramedics hovered over Marcie. Her eyes fluttered, and she screamed and then cried when they attempted to mobilize and place a splint on her lower right leg. Sam yelled again. He hurt for her and needed to stop her pain.
“You control him, or I’m calling in the sheriff.” The older, balding paramedic shot a wary glance at Diane and braced himself in case Sam broke out of Jesse’s hold.
Diane grabbed Sam’s shirtfront and dragged him, with Jesse’s help, over to where the frantic dark-haired woman stood a few paces away.
He breathed as if he’d raced up the side of a mountain.
“Pull it together, Sam!” Diane yelled. Then she brushed past him to where the paramedics had strapped an unconscious Marcie onto the portable gurney along with all the supplies they’d hefted in. Sam couldn’t hear what Diane said as he lit into the wide-eyed soccer mom who stood her ground in front of him.
“Who the hell are you? What did you do to her?” He wanted to shake the lady as he hovered over her, leaning his weight toward her like a freight train.
She stayed in control, meeting his gaze nose to nose. The brave woman replied, “I’m a friend of Marcie’s. My name’s Maggie.” And then she clammed up, refusing to answer why she was there and what she and Marcie had been doing.
Sam insisted on carrying one end of the gurney so he could watch over Marcie. Her big eyes fluttered open, tinted with agony, and that ripped open the festered scab in his heart that had just begun to heal. Jesse helped the paramedic carry the front of the gurney. Diane, Maggie, and the dark-haired paramedic led the way, lugging the medical supplies.
“Lift her up; keep her level.” The back door popped open, and the lift was strapped to the stretcher. The IV bag hooked up in the field was hung on a hook inside of the ambulance beside the older paramedic as he shoved on a pair of glasses. Sam climbed in.
“I’m going with her.”
“Diane and I’ll follow.” Jesse closed the doors and banged the side. “All secure; get going now,” Jesse shouted.
Sam couldn’t think or make sense of how this woman twisted up his guts. He rested his hand on her forehead and then skimmed around the cuts and scrapes on her cheek, and the reopened gash on her head. This time, there was sure to be a scar.
The paramedic roughly cleared his throat.
Sam looked up into a flash of anger.
“Just stay out of the way,” the paramedic said.
“Look, I’m sorry, but she scared the hell out of me, I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t mean to threaten that you would see to it that the only job I could get was delivering newspapers if I hurt her? You mean that one?”
A wave of guilt crushed Sam’s pride. His faced warmed. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t know what I was saying.”
The paramedic adjusted Marcie’s IV and checked her blood pressure. He answered with a sharp glare. That made the ride to Jefferson Memorial Hospital in Port Townsend unbearably long.
Marcie was in and out from the pain, but she came around near Discovery Bay. She looked straight at Sam with tears glistening, turning the soft blue in her eyes translucent. Her lip trembled. The killer was that what she said next threw him for a loop. “I love you. That’s why I did it.”
“Not here, okay?” Then he just held her hand, even with the scrapes and nicks. He just held on while she cried.
Diane, Jesse, and Maggie caught up with Sam when the stretcher was wheeled into the emergency room. The tall, broad-shouldered, militant ER nurse turned all of them around and directed them to the waiting room, where they were told to sit and wait until the doctor had a chance to examine Marcie.
Sam tried to push past the head nurse, a tall, solid, older woman who reminded him of a German nanny.
“You go park your butt in the waiting room with your friends now and control yourself. If you cause any disruption, and I don’t care if you’re the king of England, I’ll have security toss you out.”
Jesse grabbed Sam’s shoulder, placing himself between Sam and the nurse. “He’ll do just that, ma’am. Sorry, but he’s darn worried about his girl, is all.”
“Humph” was all she said before crossing her arms and striding behind the wide emergency room desk.
Jesse physically turned Sam and pushed. “Move it and go sit down, or I’ll help security toss you out.”
Diane and Maggie sat against the far wall. Side by side, each claimed an orange plastic chair. Thankfully, the small waiting room was virtually empty. Jesse and Sam faced the women. Sam made no attempt to be discreet in the way he studied Maggie. She was a small, curvy woman with a round face, dark, curly hair, and large tawny eyes sparkling with vulnerability. Overtop, she wore a mask filled with a determined strength; a woman who wouldn’t give up. She then turned to Diane in the way people do when needing support. Sam realized then what really bothered him. This woman and Diane appeared comfortable together.
“Odd man out, am I?”
“What’re you rambling on about?” Diane said.
He jabbed his index finger straight at Maggie. “You two, you develop some kind of chick bond? Or what is this?”
“Jesus, Sam, you can be an ass sometimes.” Diane leaned forward, clasping her hands between her knees.
Maggie sat erect and unmoving. It was weird; even the furnishings appeared to vibrate with the same electricity that was pumping through Maggie. Her hostile stare met his head on, declaring that she was prepared to kick his ass.
“Maggie is Richard’s wife. You know Richard—Dan’s partner.” Diane turned toward Maggie. “You two haven’t formally met, but you already know this is Sam.”
Maggie leaned forward and crossed her arms over her stomach. “If I didn’t know you cared for Marcie, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you what a prick I think you are. But I’m going to let it go for now and chalk it up to stress and the worry of seeing someone who means so much to you lying there hurt.” When Sam tried to interrupt, she held up her flat, authoritative hand with a fiery punch. “I’m not done. Maybe you should pull your head out of your ass long enough to see that you don’t hold the corner on caring for Marcie. She was out there for me, for you, and for Richard. She cares more for…”
“Maggie, stop. Don’t say any more. Both of you, keep your voice down. This is not the place.” Diane turned her head to the nurse’s station. “We have an audience.”
Jesse smacked Sam on the back of his head. “Cool it, hoss. Maybe we should take a walk.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere.” He must have spoken too loud, because Brigitta, his nickname for the head nurse who itched to toss him out, coughed and narrowed he
r eyes.
“Both of you,” Diane kept her sharp, silky voice just above a whisper and leveled all the fingers of her right hand first at Sam and then Maggie, “I’m going to do the talking.”
“What did she mean by that crack about Marcie being out there for me?” Sam realized he was pissing Diane off, and he slid one seat away from Jesse so his hand couldn’t smack him again. Diane became quiet when she was mad, and he could feel warning vibes now.
Looking a little worse for wear, Diane’s cop cut stuck up in clumps after she ran her fingers through the short, thick strands. Still wearing her black windbreaker and jeans, she got up from the dingy plastic chair and stalked to the seat beside Sam and sat, sliding around to face him. “I realize you’re upset.” Her face, her eyebrows were a mass of control when she spoke in a clear whisper. “There’s more going on than you know, and I asked you to cool it. We’ll talk outside, because one thing I believe is that the walls have ears. Keep in mind that the people involved are around. So for everyone’s sake, including our safety, shut up. Don’t speak, don’t interrogate her. We’ll talk later, when we’re out of here.” She stood while continuing to speak to Sam and moved straight to the young, thin intern, wearing blue scrubs, who approached fast.
“Is there a Maggie here?” The young woman, who looked barely older than eighteen, cleared her throat and spoke in a crisp, matter-of-fact way; as if she had no time to waste.
“That’s me.” Maggie stepped around Diane.
“Marcie’s awake and asking for you.”
“Whoa, Doc, just a sec. How is she?” Sam pushed his way in front of Maggie, facing the baby-faced intern.
“She has a right tibia plafond fracture—a broken ankle. There appears to be no soft tissue damage, so it’s set with a splint. Are you related to Marcie?” Her voice sounded more like a sixteen-year-old’s.
He didn’t know how to answer. He was furious. How could she not ask for him? “You can say I’m her significant other, the one who’s trying to keep her from doing anything stupid. Listen, Doc, she had a concussion over a week ago. Did you run any tests, or scans, for a head injury?”
She cocked her head, swinging her blond ponytail over her shoulder. “We’ve already taken care of it, and we’re waiting on the results now.”
“Can we all see Marcie?” Maggie spoke with urgency. “Please?”
The intern carefully looked at the group of four. “Just for a few minutes. We need to get her admitted and moved to a room after the neurologist examines her.”
Jesse hovered behind Maggie. Sam didn’t know how, but, between Maggie and Jesse, they were ushered past the nurse’s station.
What he saw when he walked in was not a woman of deceit and lies. This was someone who had been hurt deeply. Her lip quivered as she struggled to hold it together. Draped in a blue hospital gown and covered with a thin cotton blanket, she appeared vulnerable on the narrow bed. The right side of Marcie’s face resembled an artist’s palate; all scraped and smudged. The gash on her head had been re-taped and was swollen and an ugly purple. Her cast was not plaster but the newfangled walking splint. Sam’s hand shook when he hesitantly fingered the strands of hair that slid over her forehead. Tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, Marcie, what have you done to yourself?” Maggie moved around to the other side of the bed and rubbed her arm. They exchanged a sisterly protective look, one Sam knew all too well. They watched each other’s back.
“I’m sorry, Maggie.”
“For what?” she snapped.
“I didn’t finish.”
Maggie leaned down and hugged her, and Marcie groaned. Maggie pulled back. “Where does it hurt?”
“My shoulder, my side. I hurt all over.”
Sam wanted to shake her, to hug her, to yell at her. But more than anything, he willed her pain to stop. “Did they give you something for the pain?”
She merely shook her head. “No.”
“I’ll get you something,” Maggie said.
Marcie reached out and grabbed Maggie’s wrist. “I don’t want to take any drugs. I need to keep my head clear.”
Sam caressed her cheek. “Taking something for the pain isn’t going to kill you, but it will take the edge off.”
Jesse stepped forward and squeezed the silver bedrail. “Marcie, take something.”
She looked at Jesse and her whole face quivered. A tear fell before she nodded. “Okay.”
Jesse slapped Sam’s back. “I’ll go find the doc.”
A nurse followed shortly with some pain medication, which Marcie reluctantly took. She closed her eyes for a minute and sobbed. Sam passed her a Kleenex, and she wiped her plugged nose.
She had failed to complete the job. That was all she could think about other than the fact that her leg throbbed like nothing she could remember. Diane stood at the foot of the bed. She had dark, puffy circles under her eyes, and she said nothing.
“I told Jesse and Diane everything, Marcie,” Maggie said. “We’re in over our heads.”
Diane’s stance never faltered. Her lips thinned as she inclined her head. “You should have told me, Marcie.” Diane spoke with such quiet control.
“How much trouble am I in?”
“First, I need to find out how soon we can get you out of here.”
As if on cue, the intern, followed by the neurologist, strode in. Surprisingly, Sam, Diane, Jesse, and Maggie were allowed to stay. Maybe it was because of the respectful way they moved back and stood quietly out of the way.
The neurologist spoke briefly to Marcie, pulled a penlight from the pocket of his white doctor’s coat, and checked her pupils. Then he tapped a spot on her elbow and uninjured knee. The results from a rushed head CT were evidently in the metal chart the intern clutched against her chest. The neurologist reached for the chart and flipped it open. “Your CT’s negative, no trauma or concussion.”
The dark-haired neurologist pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up when they slid down his nose. He leaned over the silver bedrail, questioned Marcie about her choice of a recreational vehicle, and advised her to stay off the bike. When he asked for details of what had happened, she recounted a censored version with clarity while maintaining eye contact with Maggie, Diane, Sam, Jesse, and then the doctor.
“When can she be released?” Diane asked as she stepped beside the short and boxy, middle-aged neurologist.
“I want to keep her overnight for observation; so tomorrow at the earliest.”
Marcie blew out a heavy sigh and pressed her head into the pillow. She wanted out, but the throbbing in her leg was enough of a catalyst for her to agree for now.
“I know what you’re thinking, but as soon as you’re settled in a room, we’re talking,” Sam said as he lowered his face a mere inch from hers. “Okay, Doc, how soon can we get her moved?”
Chapter Thirty
Diane used her resources with the Port Townsend sheriff’s detachment to secure a private room for Marcie. Within an hour, Marcie was moved to a small, bright room on the fourth floor with a large window overlooking the parking lot. Marcie pressed an electric button on the side rail to elevate her head. The kind, motherly floor nurse raised her foot, which thankfully relieved pressure from the miserable ache in her leg.
Marcie wished for a few moments alone with Maggie to find out what she had said. For some reason, her instincts were stuck behind a foggy wall, which was most likely from the drugs.
Maggie, Sam, Diane, and Jesse lingered in the background until the nurse left. She sighed; her brief reprieve was gone. The door had barely closed when it popped back open, this time filled with a tall, dark-haired Richard, whose wild icy blue eyes fired at Maggie. He absorbed everything and everyone in the room with such razor-sharp control that any hope for a quiet, peaceful resolution was extinguished. The heavy, dark stubble and unusually messy, short-cropped hair had changed his hard, handsome, rustic looks to those of a man out of control. He grabbed Maggie’s arm, hauling her fast and hard into his arms and holding tight. H
is lips pulled back as his jaw tightened. A man fiercely protective of his family, he looked as if he wanted to punch someone in the room and didn’t much care who. Then he closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of Maggie’s head; his chest heaving as if he’d run the entire way there.
“What the fuck were you two doing?” Then he held Maggie away from him, like a recalcitrant child, far enough to look straight down into her eyes. “Where are the kids?”
Until now, Maggie had appeared so strong and unbreakable. Marcie hadn’t realized how much Richard was her rock. That force of knowledge hit Marcie square in the gut. She watched something crumble inside Maggie. Her face scrunched and her lips trembled in a losing battle.
“My mom—she’s at the house.”
Sam moved closer to Marcie. “There are a whole lot of secrets going on here, Richard. I’m Sam. That’s Diane at the foot of the bed, Jesse behind you, and you know Marcie, of course. But let’s start with what Marcie and Maggie were up to last night, shall we?” The air in the room froze.
“Sam, Diane, Jesse, exactly who are you, and why are you here?” Richard asked.
“Now that’s a fair question. I’m with the DEA, with kind of a weird twist in this. You see, Marcie here landed in my path in New Orleans, and, ever since, I’ve been trying to get her out of whatever hole she’s dug herself into, but she’s making it damn near impossible. Now Jesse’s with the NOPD, my former partner and friend, and Diane is my friend and current partner with the task force. Both are trying to help. We seem to be in an unusual situation here.”
It didn’t take a genius to see Richard shut down as if clamping an iron wall around him.
“Sam, there’s a lot you don’t know,” Jesse said as he wandered into the center of the small, bright room.
“What?”
“Dan stashed the drugs in your locker.”
“What?” Sam’s face paled.
Jesse moved to the foot of the bed so he could eyeball Marcie. “Remember the mess we found this girl in yesterday? Scared. Freaked out. Remember what you said, Marcie? ‘You ever have to do something, and it’s the only way to protect the one you love?’”
Danger Deception Devotion The Firsts Page 91