Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

She got out the jack and tire iron and set to work. The first lug nut came off with relative ease, so she was grinning to herself as she started on the second. These were always the hardest part. If they’d been tightened by machine, she didn’t have a prayer of getting them off. The second one wouldn’t budge. Neither would the third, even though she jumped up and down on the tire iron, hoping to get it started. Nothing.

  Sweating, frustrated, and very aware time was slipping by, Charlee gave up and decided to go on foot. She wasn’t that far away.

  She jogged through the trees, figuring if she took the shortcut, she should be at her parents’ house within ten minutes. She reached in her back pocket to give her dad a heads-up, but her phone wasn’t there. Where had she left it?

  She mentally retraced her steps as she ran, sweat trickling down her back and the nape of her neck. Nobody ran during the summer in Florida. That’s why shady porches, mint juleps, and afternoon naps were invented.

  She’d set the phone on the hood of the car as she’d worked the tire iron, in case her dad or Hunter called. Brilliant.

  She picked up the pace. She was almost there, so it wouldn’t matter. She could get it later.

  Her top stuck to her skin by the time she ran up the steps to her parents’ big, old farmhouse.

  Instead of going around to the screened porch in back as usual, she went to the front door, since it was closer, surprised that it swung open at her touch. Her dad must have left it open, knowing she was on her way. She stepped into the big living room. “Mama, I’m here. Where are you?” Her mother startled easily these days, and Charlee didn’t want to scare her.

  She checked the kitchen and found it empty. Same with Mama’s favorite wicker rocker on the screened porch. Charlee headed down the hall, peeking in bedrooms as she went. Her father’s den and her mother’s craft room both stood empty. Her mother wasn’t in the cushy club chair in the corner of their bedroom, either. So where had she gone?

  “Mama? Are you here?” Had her father decided to take her with him and not let her know? Or maybe he’d called, but she—idiot—hadn’t brought her phone. “Mama?”

  She moved farther into her parents’ bedroom, and that’s when she heard it: water running. She hurried toward the big master bath that had been carved out of a tiny bedroom and stopped, stunned. Her mother’s bare feet stuck up over the rim of the big sunken tub, the one her father jokingly referred to as his wife’s indoor pool. “Hey, Mama? You having a soak?”

  The hair on the back of Charlee’s neck stood up when Mama didn’t respond. Charlee raced over to the tub and shrieked, “NO!” when she saw her mother’s head under the water.

  Chapter 20

  “No, no, no, no, no. Mama!” Charlee fell to her knees beside the tub and pulled Mama up by grabbing her under the arms. Careful not to smack her head, she eased her mother’s still form up and over the edge of the tub and laid her gently on the floor. Her mother didn’t move. Didn’t open her eyes, and Charlee’s heart threatened to explode.

  She put her ear by her mother’s chest, listening for a heartbeat through the wet clothes, but she didn’t hear or see one. Mama wasn’t breathing, either.

  Charlee leaped back into the bedroom and grabbed the portable phone, dialing 911 with fingers that shook. “This is Charlee Tanner at the Outpost. I need EMS please, right away, at my parents’ house on the property. It’s a white farmhouse, west of the office along the riverbank. I found my mother in the bathtub. She’s not breathing. I’m starting CPR. The front door is not locked.” Then Charlee rattled off the official address and hung up.

  She raced back into the bathroom, hoping her mother had started breathing again, but she hadn’t. Charlee pushed her terror away and started CPR. She emptied her brain of everything but the count: thirty compressions, two breaths. Then thirty more compressions, two more breaths. She wouldn’t let herself think about the fact that this was her mother, that she could lose her if this didn’t work. She knew if she let thoughts like that in, she wouldn’t be able to do what she needed to do.

  Hands shaking, sweat pouring down her face, Charlee kept the rhythm going. Come on, Mama. Breathe. Please breathe.

  Still nothing, but Charlee wouldn’t give up. Finally, finally, when tears of frustration and fear were pouring down her face along with the sweat, Charlee heard sirens in the distance. She heard a knock on the door, then a voice calling, “Ms. Tanner? Are you here?”

  “Down the hall. In the back. Hurry.” Each word came out between pants, and Charlee worried they hadn’t heard her.

  But they had, and within moments, two EMTs hurried into the room, one pulling a stretcher, the other kneeling by her side. “I’ll take over.” He nudged her aside and took her place while his partner unpacked the defibrillator. They attached the leads, then he called out, “Clear.” Charlee yelped when her mother’s body arched up off the floor and slammed back down again. All eyes went to the monitor they’d connected. Nothing.

  Oh God, please, no. Please give her back to us.

  “Clear!”

  Her mother’s body jerked a second time, but still nothing. Charlee hung her head, defeat threatening to crush her. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

  “Clear!”

  Charlee couldn’t watch it again. She tried to stem the tide of tears that wouldn’t stop, fighting to draw a breath.

  “Atta girl, that’s the way,” the older EMT murmured, and Charlee’s head snapped up and to the monitor. She swiped the tears away so she could see. They had a heartbeat.

  Relief almost sent her crashing to the floor, every muscle in her body exhausted. “Thank you, God.”

  Her mother drew in a breath, then turned her head and threw up all over Charlee’s legs. Charlee stared in shock and then laughed out loud. “Gee, thanks, Mama.”

  But Mama didn’t open her eyes. They put her on oxygen and kept the monitor attached to her heart as they readied her for transport, but she didn’t wake up.

  Charlee moved to the sink and grabbed a washcloth to wipe off her legs and wash her hands, her eyes on the mirror to watch the EMTs. She felt completely numb, like she’d been wrapped in cotton, and everything had been muted and softened.

  As they prepared to roll the stretcher down the hall, the older EMT looked over at Charlee. “We’ll take good care of her. You saved her life, you know. You should be proud.”

  They disappeared, and Charlee’s knees gave out. She grabbed the doorframe and slid to the floor, his words a cavern that had dropped open under her feet.

  Proud? No, she wasn’t proud. Her emotions tumbled and spun and made her stomach churn. She was terrified. And angry. And heartsick, because this was her fault.

  Someone had tried to kill her mother. Because of her.

  At that moment, Josh shouted her name. Two seconds later, he raced into the room and sank down beside her, yanking her into his arms. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  Hunter ran in right behind him.

  Charlee saw the concern mirrored in both faces and swallowed back the regret threatening to choke her. They needed facts. Information.

  She nodded to Hunter. “I got a flat tire and jogged over, but Dad wasn’t here. Wait. Dad. We need to call him.”

  Josh laid a hand on her arm. “As soon as I heard the address, I called him. He’s going to meet the ambulance at the hospital. It’ll be faster.”

  Hunter eased farther into the room, crouched down, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You all right, cher? You didn’t answer my text.”

  So that’s what made them come running. Charlee felt the heat of his concern all the way to her toes, and it burned off some of the fear inside her. She looked over and saw Josh frowning at Hunter.

  She ignored him, her eyes on Hunter. “I will be. And, please God, Mama will, too.”

  “Finish the story, cher.” Hunter helped her up and sat d
own on the edge of the bed beside her.

  “I hadn’t gotten far when I realized I had a flat. So I stopped and tried to change the tire.”

  Josh settled down on her other side. “I can’t believe you got the lug nuts off.”

  “Only the first one. The others wouldn’t budge, no matter how much I jumped on the tire iron. I finally gave up and decided to jog over and deal with it later. I didn’t want Mama alone for too long.” She shrugged. “I left my phone sitting on the hood of the car in case Dad called. When I got here, the door was open, but I figured Dad must have left it that way for me.”

  “He’d never do that,” Josh said, “but I’ll check.”

  “I called her, but she wouldn’t answer. I finally found her back here.” She closed her eyes against the terrible image. “She was in the tub with her feet sticking up. Her head underwater.”

  “Was she hurt anywhere that you could see?”

  She followed Hunter’s gaze and saw blood on the floor. How had she not noticed that before? “I-I don’t know. I didn’t check. I pulled her out of the tub and onto the floor and called 911. Then I started CPR and didn’t stop until the EMTs got here.”

  “Which is exactly what you should have done, Sis. You followed first aid protocol to the letter.” Josh wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, his voice husky. “You saved her life.”

  Charlee leaped to her feet, furious. “I shouldn’t have had to! Somebody did this to her. Because of me.”

  Hunter spoke quietly. “Is it possible she decided to have a soak and climbed in there on her own?”

  Both of them said, “No.”

  “Since her stroke,” Josh said, “she’s been in a wheelchair. Her right side is still almost useless.” Josh pointed to the step leading up to the big tub. “She’d never have been able to navigate that on her own.”

  Charlee agreed. “She wouldn’t have tried it, either. She’s much more afraid these days. And she was fully dressed.”

  Hunter held up a hand. “I had to ask.” He glanced from one to the other. “The perp had the opportunity to kill her outright, but he didn’t. He left her for you—or your father—to find. Just like Pete.”

  Charlee raced back into the bathroom and threw up. Hunter appeared behind her and thrust a wet washcloth in her direction, then rubbed her back while she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, cher.”

  She wiped her face, rinsed her mouth, and turned to face him. “What have I done that someone would do this?”

  “Whatever the reason, it makes perfect sense to him. When we figure out how he thinks, we’ll be able to get a step ahead of him.”

  His phrase from the day by the bridge came back to her. “It’s always about water.”

  Hunter nodded. “Yes, somehow it’s always about water.”

  The rest of that eternal day, Charlee turned that phrase over and over in her mind, replaying everything that had happened lately and weighing it against what had happened a year ago. Her frustration mounted when nothing new came to mind. Where was the connection? And why couldn’t she see it?

  * * *

  Fury still pounded through Hunter’s veins when he got to the hospital later that day to check on Charlee and her mother. Paul Harris, the slimebag, had lied to their faces, more than once. But worse, he’d hurt his daughter and deceived his wife and tried to convince them all he was nothing but a grieving father.

  He noticed people stepping out of his path as he passed and deliberately slowed his pace. He didn’t want to unload all of this on Charlee. She had enough to worry about.

  What nobody was saying was that with all the trauma her mother had already been through with her stroke, the damage from the water this morning may have been too much for her to beat back. He hoped she made a full recovery, but he had his doubts. For Charlee, he would set them aside.

  When he entered the darkened room, he saw Charlee on one side of the bed, her father on the other, each holding one of her mother’s hands.

  Charlee looked up as he entered, and her smile hit him square in the gut. Had anyone ever been that happy to see him in his life? It warmed him from the inside out. And it scared him spitless.

  He went to her side, leaned over and kissed her forehead, nodded to her father. “How’s she doing?” He kept his voice quiet.

  “She’s resting. The doctors say that’s what she needs most right now.”

  Her father said, “Why don’t you kids go grab a sandwich or something. You’ve been here for hours, Charlee. You must be starving.”

  She started to protest, but Hunter didn’t let her finish. “Good idea. There are several fast food joints nearby. What can we bring back for you, sir?”

  He waved that away. “Anything is fine. Maybe some lemonade, if you can find it.”

  “Grease and lemonade. We can do that.”

  Hunter guided her out of the room. Halfway to the elevator, Charlee stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Why are you rushing me out of here? I need to stay with them.”

  Hunter indicated the elevator, and they started walking again. “You and your dad need to eat. I could use a bite, too. And I didn’t want to discuss new developments in front of your folks. Your mom needs her rest, and your dad needs to keep his mind on her.”

  Charlee nodded agreement, but as the elevator doors slid closed, she turned to him, eyes bleak. “What if she never wakes up?” The words were barely a whisper.

  Hunter tugged her into his arms and held tight, offering what comfort he could. She sounded small and afraid, and that made him furious all over again, more determined than ever to find whoever was behind this. “Your mama is tough, like her daughter. Stay strong, cher. She needs you.” She nodded and burrowed closer, her head tucked against his throat. He breathed in her scent and rubbed her back, murmuring reassurances in her ear, lending her his strength, making sure she knew she was not alone.

  When the doors opened, Charlee jumped back. One young guy grinned, and Hunter fixed him with a stern look while heat climbed Charlee’s cheeks.

  Her chin came up, and he watched her tuck her sadness and worry behind determination as they walked across the street and ordered sandwiches. As soon as they were seated, Charlee took a bite of her chicken sandwich, sighed, and then motioned for him to talk.

  He raised a brow. “Don’t I get to eat, too?”

  She swallowed. “Fine…but hurry up. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He devoured his sandwich in a few bites, and they both polished off the fries in record time. He watched her wipe the ketchup from her lips and grinned.

  She caught his smile and lowered the napkin. “What? Do I still have ketchup somewhere?”

  He reached out a finger and swiped a bit from her cheekbone. “Just a little bit.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Actually, I was thinking that it’s nice to be around a woman who enjoys food and doesn’t spend all her time moaning about how she wants to eat but can’t.”

  She waved a hand, grinned back. “Yeah, I gave that up years ago. I love bread and baking too much. I don’t want to get as wide as I am tall, but that’s pretty much my only criterion.”

  “No danger of that. You’re beautiful, Charlee. Sexy, too,” he added with a wink.

  She eyed him for a long moment. “I know you’re trying to distract me and lighten the mood a little, but I need answers. Start talking, Lieutenant.”

  He crumpled his napkin. “Right. We brought Paul Harris in a while ago. He’s been lying all along. You said there was the usual father-daughter teenage stuff going on, but it went much, much deeper than that. He was putting on an act that day, too. We got the transcript from his phone and found a bunch of ugly texts between the two of them. Texts he’d tried to delete the day she died, by the way. Brittany had threatened to tell he
r mother about the new girlfriend Paul had—the one he’d hooked up with long before the divorce proceedings started. She said her mother would make mincemeat out of him in the divorce, and she’d be sure to help her.”

  Charlee sat back in her seat, stunned. “I can’t believe it. He seemed so sincere. Genuine.”

  “He may really have loved his daughter and his wife, but not at the expense of his money and his reputation.” He finished his soda. “We also questioned him further about JJ’s death, and he can’t account for his whereabouts the day JJ died. No one at the office can vouch for him that day. No client records, no receipts from any restaurant or gas station. There’s just his word he didn’t do it. Which doesn’t hold much water, pardon the pun.”

  Charlee rolled her eyes and started stacking trash on the tray. “We should get Dad’s food and go.”

  They stayed at the hospital until Josh came in after his shift and said he’d spend the night with Mom, just in case.

  “I can have one of my buddies stay at your place, Sis.”

  Before Charlee could answer, Hunter said, “I’m staying with her until we catch this guy. I’ll take care of her tire while I’m there, too.”

  Josh looked like he wanted to argue, but Charlee’s ultraconservative dad piped up. “Good idea. I don’t want her alone until this is over.”

  “Then she can stay with me,” Josh insisted.

  Mr. Tanner looked from one to the other, then fixed Hunter with a stern look. “Hunter’s a good man. He’ll take good care of our Charlee.”

  “Yes, sir, you have my word on it.”

  Charlee didn’t start chuckling until they were in Hunter’s truck. “You should have seen Josh’s face when Dad backed you up about staying with me. He expected Dad to take his side.”

  Hunter shook his head. He didn’t always understand the dynamics in this big family. “I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your brothers.”

  She shook her head, still grinning. “They’ll get over it. Trust me. But it is nice to see Dad put Josh in his place. Haven’t seen that in a while, since everyone’s been tiptoeing around Josh.”