by EMILIE ROSE
“I—I don’t think so. She’s just really limp, and her eyes don’t look right. Oh! She’s throwing up.”
“Put the phone down. Turn her on her side. Quickly. I’ll wait.” She heard the crackle of the phone being set down.
“What happened?” Matt demanded.
“I’m trying to figure that out. Chastity’s nonresponsive and vomiting. Just drive. Fast. Please.”
“’Kay, she’s on her side,” Jessica replied in a breathless, fear-laden tone.
“Good job. Jess, are her clothes messed up? I mean, is her shirt untucked or are the buttons of her jeans undone?”
“N-no.”
“Good. That’s good. Is she waking up?”
“Chastity. Chastity,” the anxious cry carried through the phone. “No.”
“Are there any adults around who can help you?”
“I—I don’t see any. Should I go to the house—”
“No. Stay with her. We want to make sure she doesn’t aspir—inhale her vomit. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
“Is there anyone else with you that you could send to the house for help?”
“No. When I screamed at them about taking pictures, they all ran. Even the girls left. Miss Rachel, her lips are kind of blue.”
Cyanotic. Rachel felt panic biting at her. But she had to stay calm. Losing it wouldn’t help anyone. “But she’s breathing, right? Put your hand in front of her mouth and see if you feel breath.”
“Ummm...yes.”
“Tell me where to find you.”
“There’s a path. Behind the barn. Ella’s brothers and their friends had a bonfire in the clearing. Chastity was there.”
Older boys were there? That introduced another set of worries. Rachel relayed the directions to Matt.
“Two minutes,” he bit out.
“We’ll be there in two minutes, Jess. Just hold on. You’re doing great.”
She heard a sniffle and then another, “’Kay.”
Matt finally reached the driveway. He drove as fast as he dared. There were kids milling about. He passed the barn and took the path. Rachel spotted the girls, Chastity lying on her side and Jess kneeling beside her, propping her up. “Over there.”
She opened her door and jumped out before the truck completely stopped. She hadn’t gotten her daughter back only to lose her now.
* * *
SEEING THE MOTIONLESS teen knotted Matt’s gut with fear. Rachel sprinted toward Chastity, scanning the area around them as she ran.
His daughter. He’d just found her. He couldn’t lose her. His heart slammed against his ribs. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he parked as close to them as possible—still twenty feet too far away because of the logs circling the bonfire—and climbed from the vehicle. He was used to leading. But he didn’t know what to do. Rachel did. Surrendering control to her was the wise thing. But it was hard. Damned hard.
Rachel reached the girls. Jess jumped to her feet. Rachel took a moment to put an arm around his niece and speak to her, but Matt couldn’t hear the words, then she pointed at him. Jess ran for him, hurling herself against his chest like a good tackle. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her, but he couldn’t peel his gaze from Rachel on her knees assessing Chastity. Checking the pulse in her neck. Leaning an ear against her face to check for breathing. She knuckled the girl’s chest and talked to her. But Chastity didn’t respond.
“I’m scared, Uncle Matt.”
“Me, too, Jess.” No need to cover it up. He’d had players knocked out on the field before. It was always frightening. But he’d never felt this...helplessness. The urge to act swept through him again, but Rachel had sent Jessica to him for a reason. Was it because she didn’t think Chastity would—
Severing the thought, he looked around. He needed to do something. Had to. “Should I call an ambulance?”
Rachel scanned the clearing again, and even the sky above her, then twisted to face him. “How close is the nearest hospital?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“We’ll take her. It’ll be faster. Can you carry her to the car?”
“Yes,” he answered instantly and without thought. He scooped Chastity up. His knee protested her limp weight, but he refused to let it fail him now. He’d carried his sleeping nieces and nephews before, but this was different. Chastity was lifeless. He moved as quickly as he dared but chose his steps carefully.
“Jess, open the back door for him, please,” Rachel shouted, then pulled out her phone.
“Who are you calling?” he demanded.
“The cops. This is a crime scene.” She followed him to the truck. “My name is Rachel Bishop. I’m at the Joneses’ farm on Whitaker Road. My thirteen-year-old was attending a party here and now has alcohol toxicity, possibly more. When she was found, she was surrounded by older boys taking pictures. The sheriff needs to get out here now and find out who in the hell is serving alcohol to minors and what other drugs might be on the premises. He needs to search for GHB, ketamine and Rohypnol. Tell him to confiscate the boys’ phones.”
Matt’s anger spiked, giving him extra strength. He barely felt the last few strides.
“No. We’re taking her to the hospital,” Rachel continued. “There’s no room for Life Flight to land and no time to wait for an ambulance. I’ll give a statement later. She vomited in the clearing behind the barn beside a log if the sheriff wants a sample. Something red. A spiked punch, maybe.”
Rachel paused again. “We don’t have time. She’s hypothermic and cyanotic.” Then she hung up and ran to the opposite side of the truck and climbed in to help buckle Chastity’s seat belt.
“I’ll sit with her. She needs to be upright.”
He grabbed the blanket—the same one Rachel had wrapped herself in the day of the storm—and passed it to her.
“Thanks.” As she covered Chastity, Matt noticed her hands shaking. Rachel wasn’t nearly as calm as she’d been at the ball field. The fear blanching her face multiplied his.
“Do you have a bucket or something in case she vomits?” she asked.
“Forget the car.”
Her face set in uncompromising lines. “I want evidence. Someone will pay for this.”
Yes. They would. He heard sirens in the distance. Rachel wouldn’t make any friends by having called the cops. But he didn’t care. He wanted the guilty parties punished.
Matt grabbed his gym bag and tossed out the clothes. It was the best he could do. Then he climbed behind the wheel.
“Go. As fast as you can and still get us there in one piece,” Rachel said.
He flipped on his flashers and hit the gas, keeping an eye on Rachel and Chastity in the rearview mirror as he drove. Rachel had both arms around their daughter, whose head lolled.
He glanced at his niece. She looked petrified. “Jess, call your mom and tell her you’re okay and you’re with us. Then tell her what’s going on.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jess made her call and kept it brief. “Mom will meet us at the hospital. Is Chastity...is she going to be okay?”
Rachel’s mouth opened and closed. Her lips trembled. “I don’t know. I hope so. If you hadn’t called when you did—” Her voice broke. “She wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Rachel’s eyes closed and her lips moved. He’d swear she was praying. Then she lifted her lids. “Jess, the police will probably want a statement from you later. They’ll need you to name or describe the boys who were with her when you came up. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jessica’s voice shook.
“You did nothing wrong, Jess. Nothing. You did the right thing. You have nothing to fear. Thank you for calling.”
Tonight wasn’t going to help his case in persuading them to stay in John
stonville or win him points in a joint-custody fight.
He couldn’t lose them. But it looked very much like the clock was ticking down, and he didn’t have a Hail Mary play up his sleeve to pull off a win before the buzzer.
Dear God, just let Chastity be okay. Then he’d figure out the rest.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHASTITY STILL HADN’T come around by the time Matt jerked the truck to a halt outside the ER entrance of the small community hospital. Rachel knew the longer she remained unresponsive, the worse the prognosis. She’d never been more afraid in her life.
Emergency room personnel met Matt with a gurney. Rachel held Chastity’s hand and kept pace with them as they hustled toward a set of double doors. She delivered stats and the facts as she knew them. “Her clothes were intact, but she was surrounded by boys with camera phones. Please make sure she hasn’t been r—”
She couldn’t say the word. But one of the nurses nodded. “We’ll check.”
Someone stepped in front of Rachel. She tried to go around. “Excuse me.”
The woman shifted to block her path. “Ma’am, we need you to give us some information.”
“I gave them everything I had. Please, let me pass. I need to be with her.” She’d heard those same words a hundred times. No, a thousand. But she’d never been the one saying them.
“They’ll take good care of her. We’ll let you see her as soon as possible. Now, please, let the doctors work. Come with me.” She looked over Rachel’s shoulder. “Sir, you’ll have to move your vehicle away from the doors.”
And then it hit Rachel square in the chest. She was one of those other people—the ones she left outside the treatment area. She’d always been one of the caregivers attending the patient. She hadn’t given much thought to how the ones left behind felt.
On the verge of panic, she debated forcing her way past the lady. Then the doors closed. She saw the sensor on the wall. She couldn’t go anywhere without an electronically coded ID badge or someone behind the counter to push the button.
Frantic, she turned to Matt. “Rachel, fill out the paperwork. I’ll be right back.”
Matt and Jess left.
“I need to be back there,” she tried again. “I’m a MED EVAC/RN. I can help them.”
“Are you employed by this hospital?”
“No, but—”
“Then you can’t help. Not here. Someone will come and get you after your daughter is stable.”
“But what if—” Her voice failed her. She tried again. “I don’t want her to be alone.”
“Ma’am, you’re not going anywhere until we get her entered into the system.” The woman had clearly lost patience. “For her sake, you need to give us as much information as possible.”
The fight drained out of Rachel, leaving nothing but stomach-churning anxiety behind. The lawyer had told her to prove she was a good parent. She certainly hadn’t been tonight. This was all her fault. She should never have let Chastity go to the party. Her gut had told her not to, but she’d been trying too hard to be Chastity’s friend and not her parent. She would never make that mistake again...if given the chance.
Please, please, give me the chance.
The clerk’s face softened. She touched Rachel’s elbow. “This way.”
Rachel collapsed into the chair indicated and tried to focus. She numbly replied to the questions, producing her insurance card and ID when asked. Thank goodness she’d added Chastity to her medical plan as soon as she’d become her guardian. The uninsured were supposed to get the same treatment as the insured. But sometimes that wasn’t the case.
“Does Chastity have any allergies or medical conditions we should be aware of?”
Rachel opened her mouth but didn’t have the answer. Besides dyslexia, what else had Hope hidden? “I don’t know.”
The woman gave her an odd look, then moved on to the next question. Rachel twisted in the chair and watched the doors where they’d taken her baby. Her mind raced through all the steps they should be taking. And all the things that could go wrong. Chastity had been unconscious too long. She was only taking six to seven breaths per minute, and those had been irregular. She’d been cyanotic and hypothermic, and anyone in that condition had a greater risk of dy—
No. She couldn’t think about that.
Instead she mentally calculated how many drinks Chastity would have had to have in the two hours since Rachel had dropped her off to be in this condition. Had it been only alcohol? Or had drugs exacerbated her condition?
Firm hands squeezed her shoulders. She looked up. Matt. How long had he been behind her?
“Ms. Bishop?”
She jerked back to the present, her gaze swinging back to the hospital worker. “Yes.”
“You and your husband can have a seat. Someone will come and get you when you can see Chastity.”
Husband? Rachel’s legs wobbled when she tried to stand. Matt grabbed her arm and helped her. Rachel didn’t bother to correct the clerk. The situation was too complicated to explain.
Worry clouded Matt’s eyes. Rachel wanted to reassure him Chastity would be okay. But what if she wasn’t? Even if their daughter pulled through, there might be irreversible brain damage.
Had Chastity gotten drunk before? Hope had never mentioned it. But her sister had neglected to disclose a lot of things. Chastity’s best friend might know. “Is Jess still here?”
“Yes. She’s with Pam.” Matt led her toward chairs in the far corner.
Rachel looked back. “I can’t see the doors from here.”
“There are no closer chairs. They’ll find us.” He put his arm around her waist and urged her forward. She wanted to lean into him but didn’t. His threat was too fresh in her mind. They both wanted the same thing. Custody of their daughter. But for that to happen for either of them, first Chastity had to come home.
Jess’s face and eyes were wet and red. Rachel knew the ordeal had been traumatic, and she should leave the girl alone. But Jess or her mom might have answers that could help Chastity. “Have either of you ever known Chastity to drink before?”
“No,” Jess stated instantly and with convincing certainty. “We stay away from kids who do that.”
Rachel looked at Pam, who shook her head.
“What about drugs?”
“No.” Again, said with conviction and an accompanying head shake from Pam.
“The boys you saw...did you know them?”
Jess glanced nervously at her mother, then shook her head. “I think they were Whit’s college friends. I’m—I’m not sure. But I didn’t recognize them from school. And they looked older than Joey.”
“Was Whit with them?” Matt asked.
Jess hesitated, checked with her mom, then nodded.
Beside Rachel, Matt fisted his hands on his thighs.
“Matt,” Pam cautioned, “let the police handle this.”
Surprised that Pam thought her rule-following brother might do something he shouldn’t, Rachel looked at him. His face was red, his jaw muscles bunched. He looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. Matt would not make a good opponent.
She covered his fist with her hand. “I’ll call Officer Reed. I met with him to discuss Hope’s wreck. He seems like a straight-up guy. Let him look into this.”
“If he doesn’t find out who’s behind—”
“He will.” She didn’t know why she wanted to assure him.
Yes, she did. She wanted Matt around to be the father Chastity deserved. She didn’t know how that would work, but she had to find a way.
* * *
MATT CHECKED THE waiting room’s clock again. Midnight. He was ready to climb the walls. The hourly updates on Chastity were not enough. He needed to see his daughter. But no amount of pleading with the gatekeeper
on his or Rachel’s part had gotten them anywhere.
Ten minutes after Rachel’s call, Officer Reed had arrived to take statements, handling Jess tenderly and getting a lot more out of her than Rachel had. But time had dragged since Reed left the hospital three hours ago.
Pam and Jess had left behind him, and Matt’s parents arrived moments later. His father promised Rachel that the police chief was taking the situation seriously, even though the Joneses were a big name in Johnstonville.
Matt wanted to tell his parents that Chastity was their granddaughter. His dad would hammer harder on the case if he knew. But Matt kept his mouth shut. A crowded public waiting room wasn’t the place to air the mayor’s private business, and he wasn’t sure how his mother would react to knowing she’d been deprived of her granddaughter all these years.
Rachel had said little. Each time the doors opened she bolted upright, then when no one came for them, sagged again. Her anxiety exacerbated his own—she knew more about Chastity’s condition than he did.
He was scared. More scared than he’d been when it had been him lying in the ER, his knee destroyed. He’d known from the faces of the health care workers surrounding him that his prognosis wasn’t good. He’d seen the same look on the faces of the staff taking Chastity back.
He shifted his attention to his parents. They looked tired. “Y’all should go home. We’ll call you if there’s any change.”
His mother shook her head. “There is no way we’re leaving until we know Chastity’s all right. We love her like she’s one of ours.”
Rachel shot to her feet. “Excuse me.”
She headed to the snack machines in the corner, but Matt noticed she didn’t buy anything. She stood there with her shoulders hunched, hugging her waist, pretending to examine the contents and looking more alone than he’d ever seen her.
Alone. How many tough situations had she endured without backup? He’d always had his family. He considered himself a strong person, but what kind of fortitude did Rachel possess to face each adversity alone?
And then he got it. That’s why she clung so tightly to her coworkers. Did they support her the way his family did him? The way Hope should have? When your flesh and blood turned their backs on you, what did it do to your ability to trust?