Beneath the Surface

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  “Oh, come on, Leigh.” Ryan’s hand closed around her elbow and she jumped. He released her like he’d received an electrical shock. Was she that repulsive? Or did he know?

  “Sorry,” he said.

  He knew.

  “What else did Kirk tell you?”

  Ryan didn’t back down. Or back away. He stepped closer. “He told me you’d been terrorized by a patient.”

  She clenched her teeth together. Great. Just great. Even from the grave that man was messing up her life. First he’d made her world a living haunted house for eight months and now he’d made her look like a victim in front of the one person she never wanted to appear vulnerable to.

  Ryan had always treated her as a kid sister.

  She’d never thought of him as a brother.

  “Kirk said the patient is dead and you decided to move home to make a clean break. Makes perfect sense. I’ve put away a few stalkers who escalated too fast for anyone to stop them. I’m thankful he didn’t get that far with you, Leigh. Truly thankful.”

  She didn’t know how to respond.

  “If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll be happy to listen. But if you’d rather we never discuss it again, I’m good with that too.”

  Her throat worked a few moments before she could get any words out. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper.

  Ryan cleared his throat and pointed toward the lake. She followed his lead and they returned to the path. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to break the silence, and she took a few seconds to steady her nerves and her breathing before she spoke again.

  “I usually work a twelve-hour shift,” she said. “But I went in early two nights last weekend, so our lead nurse practitioner told me I could come in at eleven. I’ll be happy to show you the security tapes before I go if you’d like to see them.”

  “Sounds great,” he said as they put the cake and drinks on the picnic table. He called the rest of the team over as if nothing weird had just happened.

  Maybe having him know wasn’t such a disaster after all.

  Maybe.

  3

  Ryan perched beside Leigh at the bar in her kitchen. Her laptop lay open in front of her. His third piece of cake sat in front of him. He took a bite. Chocolate, whipped cream, toffee, and caramel exploded across his taste buds. “I haven’t had this stuff in years,” he said as he prepped for another bite. “Yours is exactly the way I remember it.”

  He expected her to say something, but Leigh didn’t reply right away. Man, he was a moron. Her mom had only been gone a year. Maybe it was too soon to talk this way.

  “Mom always kept the ingredients on hand,” Leigh said.

  Her voice carried a heavy layer of nostalgia, with only a hint of melancholy. Whew.

  “I guess she rubbed off on me. Hopefully in lots of other ways too.”

  He took another bite. “Your mom would have been proud of the spread you put out tonight,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “I think she would have been.”

  Ryan let his gaze wander around the kitchen. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  She looked up from the screen and followed his gaze. “I told Mom the fruit wallpaper had to go.” Her laughter was contagious and he joined her. “Mom made me promise to update anything and everything after she was gone. It was one of her final gifts.” Leigh smiled, but her eyes now shimmered with unshed tears. “She didn’t want us to feel like making changes was an affront to her memory.”

  “Sounds like her,” he said.

  “She would have hated this security system though. She didn’t like the idea of having cameras. She was convinced they could be hacked. But Kirk agreed with me that they were a necessity if I was going to live here alone.”

  He wished he could disagree with her, but he couldn’t. “Your system seems pretty state of the art.”

  “It is, but I’ve never tried to pull up footage from days or weeks ago,” she said as she typed in a password. “The cameras pointing toward the dock are motion sensitive and record for several minutes anytime they are activated. Now I need to figure out how to retrieve the videos.”

  “I appreciate your help,” he said. “I know it’s a long shot, but I want to be thorough. Oh, and I should tell you that I got a warrant for your security footage.” He patted the piece of paper he’d placed on the counter. “I know you’re willing for me to see it, but it’s procedure. I don’t want there to be anything a defense attorney could ever use to eliminate any evidence we might find.”

  She smiled. “My police knowledge is entirely based on TV shows, but that seems like a good move to me.”

  A few more keystrokes followed her words. “There they are. How far back do you want to search?”

  The body hadn’t been that decomposed because the way it was wrapped and the cold water from the lake had helped preserve it. They wouldn’t have a firm time of death until the medical examiner finished her autopsy.

  “Maybe two weeks?”

  Leigh filled in a few spots on the page and hit the search button.

  The screen filled with a list of video files.

  “That’s way more than I was expecting,” Leigh said, her voice thick with apology.

  He leaned closer to the screen as she scrolled down. There were several hundred clips. It would take hours to go through them all. He stifled a groan.

  “Would it be safe to assume your bad guy dumped the body at night?” she asked.

  “I never like to assume anything, but it’s doubtful he would have tried to dump the body in broad daylight.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s limit these search parameters a bit.”

  This time, the list was much shorter.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “I limited it to video clips between midnight and 5 a.m. I realize you’ll need to look at all of them, but I thought these would be the best ones to start with.”

  “Great idea,” he said.

  She slid the computer to him and stood up. “As much as I’d love to see what sort of stuff goes on in the middle of the night, I need to get ready for work. Have fun.”

  “Thanks.” He watched her disappear up the stairs. Interesting. The master bedroom was on the main level. Even with her mom’s permission, she probably hadn’t had the heart to move into it.

  His phone buzzed. “Hey, Sis.”

  “Still at work?” Rebecca asked.

  “Sort of.” He clicked the video file from last night. The video showed the empty dock. Nothing else. “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you’ll be at church in the morning.”

  “Hope to be,” he said. Leigh’s empty dock footage continued to play. “Need something?”

  “Not really. Caleb was asking.”

  Caleb. He’d hate to disappoint him. “Tell him I’m going to try to be there, but I’m working on a big case and might not make it.”

  “I will. Thanks,” she said.

  “You okay?”

  “Just tired.”

  “Maybe I could get Caleb one evening this week. Give you a break.”

  “I’m not holding my breath,” she said with a laugh. “I saw the news, Ryan. You’re working that body in the lake, aren’t you?”

  He’d have to get a copy of the newscast and see what the town saw tonight. “I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hang out with my favorite nephew. I have to eat supper like everyone else does.”

  “Let’s play it by ear.”

  He heard the fatigue in her voice. “I’m serious. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

  He could tell she didn’t believe him. Not that he could blame her.

  He heard Leigh on the stairs. Her voice preceded her. “Find anything?”

  “I gotta—”

  “Who’s that?” He could picture his sister’s flashing eyes. “I thought you said you were working?”

  “I am,” he said into the phone
. “Nothing yet,” he said to Leigh.

  Leigh paused at the entry to the kitchen. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Rebecca, I need to go.”

  “Who is that?”

  He couldn’t win. If he told her where he was, she’d jump to conclusions. If he told her he’d tell her later, she’d jump to conclusions. “I’m at Leigh Weston’s looking at security footage,” he said. “She’s letting us use her dock.”

  “Leigh Weston?”

  And there she went.

  “Then I’ll let you go.” A low chuckle came through the line.

  “Rebecca—”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.” With that ominous prediction, she hung up.

  He stared at the phone.

  “I’m sorry,” Leigh said. “I didn’t realize—”

  “No apology needed,” he said. “It was just my sister.”

  His sister, who was undoubtedly calling his mother right now.

  “How’s she doing?”

  The question carried far too much nuance. “I guess you heard?”

  She grimaced. “Hospital gossip can be fierce.”

  “What did you hear?”

  Leigh looked like a trapped animal. “Maybe you could tell me the true version rather than me telling you the speculation?”

  “How about if I tell you the truth, and then you tell me the speculation?”

  She didn’t look happy, but she nodded her assent.

  “Clay left them for someone he met at his twenty-year high school reunion. They started chatting on social media, then in real life, and then he walked out of church on a Sunday morning and instead of going home to his wife and kids, he went to her.”

  “That’s basically what I’ve heard,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’ve always liked Rebecca.”

  “She likes you too.”

  “How’s Caleb handling it?”

  “Not good. He doesn’t do well with changes in his routine.” Caleb had been diagnosed with autism when he was two. How his own father could abandon him was beyond understanding.

  The video on the screen stopped, and he clicked on the next file from 3:15 a.m. on Thursday.

  “He doesn’t understand why Clay doesn’t come home. We think he misses him, but he melts down on the rare occasions Clay tries to visit.” He stopped himself. Leigh didn’t need to hear all their family drama. She had plenty of her own issues to deal with. “It’s a mess.”

  Leigh shoved her hands into the pockets of her scrubs jacket. “I don’t have much interaction with Dr. Fowler, um, Clay,” she said. “But I know it shocked everyone at the hospital. The nurses who work with him the most don’t have much nice to say about him. Not that it helps Rebecca, but in the court of public opinion, he’s been convicted of being a wretched father and a sleazy man.”

  “Sleazy’s pretty accurate,” he said. Another nothing on the video clip. The next one was from ten minutes later. He hit play.

  “Do you mind locking up when you leave?” Leigh asked.

  He hit pause on the video. “I’m sorry. I can do this later.”

  “No, no. Go ahead and finish.” She scribbled a number on a notepad. “Here’s my number. Text me when you leave and I’ll arm the security system from my phone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” she said. “Gotta run.”

  “Thanks.”

  She slipped out the door to the garage. He returned his attention to the screen as she left. The garage door had just closed when lights flashed across the screen.

  He watched as the lights from a boat traversed across the screen and then disappeared from view.

  He looked at the list. Nothing else had triggered the cameras the rest of that night. He made a note of the date and time of the video and eagerly watched the rest of the clips from the past two weeks. He saw a few deer on the edge of the lake. A couple of kids on jet skis. A boat moving so slowly along the shore it had to be someone doing some night fishing. But nothing else looked out of the ordinary for boat traffic on a lake in early spring.

  Tomorrow he would ask other homeowners in this area if their security cameras picked up anything between 2:30 and 4:30 on Wednesday night/Thursday morning.

  It might be nothing, but his gut told him it was significant.

  Now to prove it.

  Leigh walked out of the hospital at 7:35 a.m. She tried to work out some of the knots in her neck and shoulders as she walked to her car. Maybe she should schedule a massage. Or see a chiropractor. They’d have a field day with her. She knew she carried all her tension in her shoulders, but she couldn’t blame it on her shift tonight. Work had been the least stressful part of the past twenty-four hours.

  At least she’d scored a great parking space last night. No riding the shuttle to the other side of the sprawling hospital campus this morning. She climbed into her car and pulled away from the hospital a full ten minutes earlier than she usually did.

  The forecast called for a sunny spring day, but the morning haze hadn’t burned off yet. She turned on the defroster and seat warmers as she waited for the red light to allow her to turn left onto the highway.

  She didn’t always crash after a shift, but she planned to today. Ryan had assured her the dive team would be continuing their search of the lake bottom. She thought about the guy who had died and hated the idea that his family might be wondering where he was and what had happened to him. But she was looking forward to falling into a deep sleep. It might be the best sleep she’d had in a year. Although if she kept thinking about Ryan Parker, it might not be.

  It was ridiculous how his presence calmed her. How his laughter made it easier for her to laugh. He’d changed some since high school, but her favorite things remained the same. He still laughed loud and long. He still took his responsibilities seriously. And he was still loyal to his family.

  His barely contained hostility toward his brother-in-law hadn’t surprised her in the least. She had no doubt it was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to pay Dr. Fowler a visit and leave him in far worse shape than he found him.

  Dr. Fowler had been on call last night. He and Dr. Evans had stopped by the coffee station in the emergency department break area—everyone knew the ED had the best coffee in the hospital—and when she’d seen them, she’d turned and walked in the other direction. Maybe it was childish of her, but she had no use for a man who abandoned his children. She would be professional when necessary, but she wasn’t interested in chatting with him in the hallway.

  She turned off the exit ramp. She could drive this road in her sleep. Probably had a few times. Driving home was the worst part of working nights.

  She crested a hill and her heart swelled as she took in the pastoral scene below. She did love this place. A few more miles of cow pastures and chicken farms and she’d be home. A quick shower, comfy clothes. Then blissful sleep.

  She yawned and blinked hard as she approached the stop sign at the bottom of the hill.

  She tapped her brake.

  Tapped it again.

  Stomped it.

  Nothing.

  Fatigue fled, replaced by adrenaline-spiking terror. What were you supposed to do if your brakes failed? Emergency brake? That sounded right. She stomped the parking break pedal. It slowed her a little, but not enough. The stop sign came closer and closer. A truck sat to her right. He had the right of way. Would he pull out?

  The truck eased into the intersection.

  She jerked her steering wheel to the left as she rolled through it.

  The driver laid on the horn as she fought to get her car back into her lane, but no sounds of crunching metal reached her ears. That guy might be mad, but at least he was in one piece.

  The road flattened out some, but not enough for her to come to a stop. It continued at a slight down angle for a half mile or so before it took a steep plunge into a valley. If no one pulled out in front of her before she got to the bottom of the hill—and if she were able to keep th
e car on the road—she’d be okay. There was no way her car would be able to coast up the hill on the other side. Once she slowed enough, she could pull off the road and call for help.

  She pressed the brake again. Still nothing.

  How was this even possible?

  She could feel her heart racing in her ears as she scanned the area on either side.

  Think, Leigh. Think.

  Fences lined both sides of the road, but the shoulder on her right was full of pine trees and the ditch was steep. If she crossed the road and went down the left side, she should make it through the ditch, crash through the fence, and roll to a stop in the field. Fence posts were a lot more forgiving than trees and she could survive the crash.

  She hoped.

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter as the grade—and her speed—increased. She continued to press the brakes. If she pumped them, would that help? At this point, it couldn’t hurt. But nothing slowed her descent into the foggy valley below.

  Without warning, the bulky form of a farm tractor emerged through the haze.

  Sunday morning was normally a good time to be on a rural road in your ginormous tractor, but not this morning.

  Maybe she could pass—

  Headlights burned in the opposite lane.

  She continued to gain on the tractor and the car in the opposite lane came closer and closer. No way could she wedge between them.

  She had no choice now.

  She yanked the wheel to the left and held on as her car crossed the solid yellow lines, passed over the opposite lane, and careered down the shallow ditch. The angle of the ditch was sharper than she’d expected. The front of her car plowed into the ground with enough force to deploy her air bag, slamming her head back into her seat even as the back of her car flipped into the air and to the side.

  She lost all sense of time and direction. When she was finally sure she was no longer moving, her left arm was pinned against the driver’s side door. She tried to shift her position, but pain shot through her and left her gasping. The dashboard was much closer than it should have been and the steering wheel had smashed into her abdomen. Her left leg was pinned in the small space between the steering wheel, door, and dashboard.