No one knew if Emma was going to make it. Chantel only said it looked bad.
Her parents, as next of kin, had been called in Florida.
Telling Chantel to hold on, he quickly called up the app. Bill’s phone registered at an address he recognized. “It says he’s at his group session,” he said. “He goes two evenings a week.” He gave Chantel the location as he was getting into his car. And then hung up and called Bill.
The man answered almost immediately. He wouldn’t have if he’d been in session. Was Bill working him? Was he really so off on this one that he’d fallen under a perp’s manipulation? Was Bill’s whole life a scam?
If Emma didn’t pull through...
“Where are you?” Jayden asked, focusing on his area of control.
“Just leaving group.”
“You been there all night?”
“Since seven.”
“You know I can verify that.”
“What’s going on?” The man’s tone sounded more resigned than defensive.
“The police are looking for you in connection with an accident that happened in Santa Raquel tonight. Go with them. Cooperate fully, and if your alibi checks out, you’ll be home in time for bed.” He had done his job.
But Emma was hurt. It’s bad. Chantel’s words replayed. It’s bad.
“One other thing, Bill.”
“Yeah?”
“You ever know of a high school kid in your old neighborhood? Maybe he cut your grass or something.”
“Nope. Most of them were little. Elementary school. A couple of sisters in high school. And an older dude halfway down the street, lived alone. You can check me up on that, too,” he said. Jayden could hear the click-click of a turn signal. “I’m still in touch with a couple of the guys. My shop did work on their cars and I called ’em when I was back to work. I called a bunch of my old clients. Nothing said I couldn’t and I needed the business.”
“I’ll need their names,” Jayden said.
“Yeah. What the...?” A slew of curse words followed. “There are cop cars in front of my place. I’m not driving into that.”
“Yes you are. Are you on your street?”
“I’m one street over.”
“Slow down and hold on. Do not hang up.”
Not waiting for a response, Jayden made a couple of quick calls, got patched into the lead officer on the scene at Bill’s place and let him know that he’d talked his client in. He also warned them that Bill had an alibi. If anyone roughed him up, they could face departmental or even legal challenge. Then he switched back over to Bill.
“Okay, drive normally and head home,” he said.
“I got any choice in that matter?” the man asked.
“Not really. Not a smart one.” Jayden wasn’t at his best. He was almost at the hospital. “I just spoke with the officer in charge. He’ll take you to the station, verify your alibi, and you’ll be free to go.”
“So much for second chances, huh?”
“You’re living it, buddy. I just made the call for you. The rest is up to you.”
“This accident...was it Suzie?” There was no bravado in the man’s voice at all now.
“No.”
“I’m here,” Bill said.
Jayden stayed on the line long enough to hear Bill cooperating with officers and then hung up. He’d just pulled into the hospital parking lot.
It’s bad.
Heading into the hospital, he could hardly breathe. Or hold panic at bay. If Emma didn’t make it...
Jayden wasn’t a praying man, but as he waited for the elevator, after reading the text from Chantel, telling him what floor she was on, where to meet her, he asked every power in existence to keep Emma alive. She was a warm, wonderful, bright and vivacious woman who gave far more to the world than Jayden could ever hope to do.
* * *
The lights were bright. Too bright. Giving everything a stark white hue that wasn’t pleasant. Darkness was better. Underneath her, everything was hard. Flat. A board.
Blinking briefly in between the dark peace seemed necessary, but was painful.
Faces hovered over her. Around her. Intent. Focused. Busy.
Voices mumbled. Something beeped. Her arm hurt.
And her head. Someone touched it. She winced and that hurt, too.
“She’s awake.”
Whatever was touching her head didn’t even pause.
“Emma? I’m Janelle. I’m a nurse. We need you to lie completely still, okay? We’re almost through here and you’re going to be just fine.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she was happy to comply.
She preferred darkness, anyway.
* * *
The next time Emma opened her eyes, she was still in the same small space, with the same bright lights, but there was only one face there. Beside her, not directly above.
She recognized it. And felt immediate relief.
“Jayden.” Her back didn’t hurt as much. The board felt...softer. She no longer craved the darkness.
“Yeah,” he said. It was only when she felt the pressure of his fingers squeezing hers that she realized he was holding them. “I’m right here.”
She could see that.
“How long have I been here?”
“A couple of hours. They gave you something to help you rest.”
She wanted to rest and to move, too. But was afraid to. Flash memories of pain splashed in and out. Mostly her head. She had feeling in all of her parts. She’d already assured herself of that much. But she had to move. To know for sure she could.
Because her feet didn’t hurt, she started with them.
“I’m in bed,” she said aloud.
“Yeah.” Jayden’s expression didn’t look anything like it usually did when he was watching her in bed. “You were upstairs for testing, but you’re back in the ER. You were in an accident.”
Right. The truck. And the cliff. She pushed away the mental pictures popping in and out. Just for a moment.
“I was on a board.”
“They were afraid you might have neck or spinal injuries.”
Emma wanted to move her legs immediately. To move everything. Get out of bed and go home. Except that she didn’t want to move her head. It felt...not like her own. “Do I?” she asked.
“Nope. Everything came back clear.” His lips softened a bit at that one. Almost smiled.
“My head hurts.”
“You’ve got a bad gash, just below your hairline on the left side. And you’re concussed.”
She lifted a hand to her forehead, knocked into a bandage. “I can’t feel anything there.”
“They numbed it to put in the stitches. Seventeen of them.”
Glancing down at his shirt pocket, he pulled out his phone, held it up to her. “It’s your parents,” he told her. “They’ve been calling every half hour. They’re on standby for a flight out.”
“No. They don’t need to come,” she said. “Seriously, I don’t want them to come.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but to be coddled by her parents, having them worrying about every move she made...
She only had a week of sex left with Jayden. That fact was absolutely clear in her befuddled mind. This was their week.
“You talk to them.” He handed her the phone.
Jayden had given her parents his number. They’d obviously been conversing. Something felt completely right about that.
She had no problem assuring her mom and dad that she was all right. And then spent the next five minutes struggling to get them to understand that they didn’t need to hop on plane. She would be fine, as the doctor had told them both.
“But when you’re released, you shouldn’t be home alone, not with a head injury.” Her mother just wouldn’t let up. Her head hurt. Her throat was dry. Bu
t her thoughts were clearing, in spite of her brief attempt to hold them at bay.
“I won’t be alone, Mom,” she said. She had police watching her home, right? Or was that over now? Was Bill in custody?
She looked at Jayden. He nodded. It took her a second to realize he didn’t know she’d been wondering about Bill’s arrest.
The evening came tumbling back with speed. And clarity. To a point. There were some foggy areas. And some complete blankness, too.
“No...a friend will be staying with me.” She glanced at him again. He nodded again.
It made sense. If they didn’t have Bill yet, she was still in danger. Jayden had said he’d protect her. She remembered that clearly from the week before.
She remembered a lot more, too. Mostly everything.
When Jayden took the phone and assured her parents that the department would make certain that Emma didn’t go home alone, and that someone would let them know if anything changed, Emma closed her eyes.
And smiled.
* * *
“What did you tell my parents about us?” Emma’s question came after several minutes of silence while she seemingly dozed. She kept fading in and out, but the doctor had said some of that was due to the pain medication they’d given her.
Jayden had just slipped his phone back into his pocket when the question came. Her voice was getting stronger by the moment.
Emma still had spots of dried blood on her temple. And a spot to the left of her nose. Her normally flyaway curls were plastered to her forehead. They’d cut off the clothes she’d been wearing, in their haste to check her for possible injuries.
Assuming she made it through the next twenty-four hours without an unexpected glitch, she was going to be just fine. Thank all the powers that be.
“I told them that I’m a parole officer and we’ve been working on a case together.”
“So...when I just told them a friend would be staying with me, they didn’t know I meant you.”
“There’s no reason why they should.” He’d wanted them to know she was special to him the first time he’d spoken to them. The sensation came and went, depending on the moment.
She turned her head to stare up at the ceiling. “How long do I have to lie here?”
“They’re moving you to a room, just for tonight. Assuming everything goes as they expect, you’ll be free to leave tomorrow. You’re incredibly lucky...”
She could have died...
His stomach felt again the insidious twist of fear that had attacked him on and off since Chantel’s call.
“Do you remember anything about the accident?” he asked. Someone would be in to take her report officially, but he had to know. Had to do something.
Work was his panacea. His life. It was all he could do. A life had been lost because of him. He didn’t deserve to go create one of his own when he’d cost another.
She told him about the truck. About trying to find any kind of identifier. About the baseball cap and broad shoulders. All things she’d told the dispatcher on the phone.
“It was no accident,” she finished. “He forced me over that cliff...”
He so easily could have. And she’d have been dead.
“You swerved to the left, Em,” he told her, pushing back against another wave of emotion. “When he started to come over, you gunned it and swerved to the left, in front of him. You plowed into a row of shrubbery.”
And the sunglasses she’d had on top of her head—having put them there when she’d picked them up from the counter when she’d left his house—had slid down just enough that the force of the airbag had rammed them into her head.
There’d been a lot of blood. She’d been unconscious.
“It was Bill,” she told him.
“He had an alibi.” He wasn’t going to lie to her about it. Knew that he’d probably never convince her the man wasn’t after her. “He was picked up pulling into his driveway before they even got you to the hospital, but has already been released. He was at group all evening and several people there have verified the information.”
“They could be lying. They’re all ex-cons, rememb—” She stopped suddenly, a memory surfacing from her earlier meeting with Suzie Heber. “When I was leaving the Stand, Suzie asked me to please ‘leave it alone.’ Those exact words.”
He knew Chantel’s team had been through all of Emma’s current case files, anything that someone might want her to “leave alone.” They were calling a couple of people in for questioning about their whereabouts, both on the night her back door had been vandalized and for that evening, as well, and he told her so.
She nodded. Frowned at him. He didn’t want anything worrying her. Didn’t want her bothered.
“What?” he asked.
“Is it wrong for me to be glad you’re here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think you should go? I can get one of the girls to come stay with me if I need help when I get out of here. Marta would do it.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” That wasn’t debatable, as far as he was concerned. “Whether it’s Bill or some other maniac, right now you’re in danger. And speaking of which, I should probably have the numbers for your friends. The accident’s going to be on the news. A prosecutor being targeted, twice in one week... I had a call from Chantel and they’re going to be asking for the public’s help in finding this guy.”
He’d keep it about business, no matter how much he struggled with needing more.
“Thank you.” She didn’t smile. Didn’t reach out a hand to him. But the look in her eye sent another bout of emotion surging through him.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he told her. Praying that’s that all it was. That he wasn’t starting to need more from their association than he could have. And that she wasn’t, either.
He didn’t say that, though.
He also didn’t tell her that Bill said there was no teenage boy in his old neighborhood. In the morning he’d be checking with the two names the man had given him, Bill’s former neighbors and current clients, to see what they had to say.
And he was going to be checking in with Bill way more than the man would like.
But for the most part, he was sticking to the prosecutor like glue.
Just until the danger had passed.
Chapter 20
Jayden stayed at the hospital until Emma was settled in her room for the night. A couple of her law school friends were on their way in and he didn’t want to run into them—didn’t want to just be a work associate, couldn’t be anything else. Officers were stationed at her door. A precaution and maybe overkill, but he didn’t think so. And was glad that Chantel was taking the situation as seriously as she was.
No doubt about it, if not for Emma’s quick thinking in gunning her car and pulling left, she’d have been over that cliff and gone.
He tried all night long, as he tossed and turned, to get over that thought. Her coming so close to death: stark fear shot through him yet again. It kept happening. Over and over. He’d finally fall asleep, only to wake up with a stab of fear. By morning he was pissed.
Mostly with himself.
If all her morning tests went well and everything else remained stable and responsive throughout the day, she’d be ready for him to take her home late that afternoon. He was stopping by her place to pick up some clothes.
“Marta and Stef offered to stay with me,” she told him when he called from his car just after seven to see how her night had gone. He’d just come from Bill’s old neighborhood, catching his neighbors before they left for work, and heard from both men that neither of them could remember a teenage boy living in their neighborhood, or even staying over the summer. “They offered to pick up clothes and things, too.”
So she was telling him he wasn’t needed? He, after all, wasn’t even a friend.
He was a cop whose offender might possibly have tried to kill a prosecutor. He didn’t think so. Bill’s alibi was strong.
But something wasn’t adding up. Clearly someone was hurting Suzie. Doctor’s reports didn’t lie about such things. But he didn’t think she was being completely honest, either.
Out of fear? Or something else?
Emma had texted before she’d gone to sleep the night before, as he’d requested before he left, to give him the results of the MRI. The findings corroborated the preliminary brain scan: other than the concussion, she was fine.
There was no reason he had to get her clothes, but he wanted to. Wanted to help her in ways that he’d never imagined. “I’m staying with you,” he told her. He wasn’t going to change his mind, even if she had a houseful of friends getting her clothes. “Or another trained officer is. That’s Chantel’s edict, not mine. It’s either that or move you to a safe house.”
“I’m not going to stop working,” she told him, sounding like the woman he knew—and was hesitant to admit, even to himself, he cared for. “Whatever it is I’m supposed to leave alone—and I know it’s Suzie’s case—I’m not doing it. Bullying is wrong.”
So was her possibly dying at the age of thirty-two at the hands of a maniac.
“No one’s going to stop looking for whoever is behind the threats, Emma. But it would make a lot of us feel better to know you’re safe.”
“I thought we had that handled with you staying with me.”
Well, yes, they did. So she wasn’t reneging. Doing a quick look-back on the conversation, he could find no place where she’d said she was changing her mind.
Nope, he’d conjured that one up on his own. Due to the damned fear that had been attacking him like a plague. Fear that she meant too much to him.
Fear that he couldn’t do anything about it.
Fear that he was going to hurt her somehow.
“And your friends and the clothes?” he asked.
“I told them I had that covered.”
Oh. Seemed like the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. Maybe it had.
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