“Did you see the roster?”
She shook her head, unable to answer. Fear for her brother, pain at his betrayal clogged her throat. If she spoke now, she was afraid she’d burst into tears.
Luke slammed his fist into the steering wheel. “Dammit to hell!” he exploded. Jerking the gear lever viciously into reverse, he maneuvered the car into traffic and pressed down on the accelerator.
As the car shot down the street, she swallowed several times and finally managed to croak, “But I got a copy of it.”
“Thank God.” He relaxed slightly, leaning back into his seat. “Who’s on it?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to moisten her suddenly toodry mouth as she held the papers more tightly in her hand.
“Well, look now, for crying out loud.”
The papers rattled together as she looked through them slowly. She prayed he wouldn’t notice how her hands were shaking, or that if he did he’d think it was because she was anxious to read the list. She found the sheet with Monday’s date and pulled it from the pile reluctantly.
It made no difference now what other names were listed for the evening shift in two days. She knew her brother’s name would be one of them. Glancing down the list, she wasn’t even surprised when the name Bobby Carleton jumped out at her.
Closing her eyes, she willed the churning in her stomach to stop and cleared her throat. If she didn’t read these names to Luke, he’d take the paper away from her and read them himself.
“Here they are,” she began, then stopped, appalled at how shaky her voice sounded.
Luke had relaxed his grip on the steering wheel when she told him she had the list. Now he glanced over at her, a small smile on his face. “It’s okay to be nervous. I’m shaking, too. That’s the final nail in the coffin that you’re holding in your hand.”
He didn’t know how true his words were. Clearing her throat, she began reading. “Joe Molloy, Les Gruber,” she started, listing six names in all. It was every man they’d seen at the Demons’ two-flat.
With two additions. She couldn’t force the name Bobby Carleton past her lips, but after taking a deep breath, she added, “And Eddie Timmons.”
“That’s it. Those are our guys.” He reached over and squeezed her nerveless hand. “Good job. Two days from now this case will be history.”
She shuffled the paper back into the pile and nodded, staring straight ahead out the window. What should she do? Luke was bound to find out, sooner or later. She had to tell him. How could she get to her brother before Friday night, keep him away from that warehouse? How could she convince him to do the right thing? And what was the right thing, anyway?
She caught the flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye just as they started through the intersection. So did Luke, because he stomped savagely on the brake and twisted the steering wheel as the black sedan barreled toward them.
There was a stop sign in front of the black car, but the driver didn’t even slow down. Julia froze, unable to move, as the grille of the car rushed toward her. Luke must have spun the steering wheel again, because at the last moment they skidded and the car spun in a semicircle. There was a sickening crunch behind her, a slashing pain on her forehead, then the seat belt caught her as the impact propelled her toward the windshield.
Her head snapped back and the whole world began to spin, slowly and sickeningly. Somewhere, far in the distance, she heard the squeal of tires and Luke’s voice, highpitched with panic, calling her name.
His hands were on her face, touching her shoulder, feeling for a pulse in her wrist. Her name was a chant on his lips. “Julia. My God, Julia, answer me. Answer me, dammit. Tell me you’re all right. Tell me you’re not hurt.”
His hand tightened on her wrist, and she wanted to turn to him and tell him she was okay, she would be fine if only the world would stop its nauseating spinning. She opened her mouth, but no sounds came out. She tried to turn her hand to grasp his, but another wave of nausea swamped her and she closed her eyes. Maybe it would be better to sleep until this horrible churning in her stomach had stopped.
Luke saw her slump back against the seat, her skin bleached of color, and felt a deep and spreading panic. This couldn’t happen to him twice in one lifetime, could it? Fumbling for his seat belt, he ignored the man who leaned in the window and asked, “Can I help you? We’ve already called the police and an ambulance is on the way.”
Luke wrenched open the car door and pushed past the Good Samaritan, ignoring his worried, “Maybe you shouldn’t move until the paramedics get here.” He staggered around the car and tried to pull open the door next to Julia, but it was impossible. The impact had come right behind her door, and the metal was crumpled and crimped together. There was no way he could get her door open.
He reached in the shattered window, ignoring the shards of glass that lined the window frame like glittering knives. “Julia, you’re going to be fine.” He heard the frantic, pleading note in his voice but was powerless to subdue it. What he wanted to do was scream out his fear and his rage, beg and plead with her not to die, to open her eyes and look at him and tell him she was fine.
Her curly mass of hair had fallen forward, covering her face. With a trembling hand he brushed it back behind her ear, and froze in shock when he saw the dark red blood streaming down her face.
The night of his wife’s accident played in slow motion inside his head, and suddenly it was as if it had happened yesterday. The crumpled car, his pregnant wife so ominously still, crushed between the steering wheel and the seat, the door of the car that wouldn’t open and allow him to pull her out, pull her to safety.
Linda’s face merged with Julia’s, and he began tearing at the car door, desperate to get Julia out. If he could get the door open and get her out of the car, she wouldn’t die like Linda had. He wouldn’t have to stand here and watch her slip away, powerless to do anything to help her.
He never heard the sirens or the voices of the paramedics until someone wrapped him in a bear hug from behind and held him tight while someone else pried his hands away from the now bloody glass shards on the window.
“Let me go!” He struggled wildly, frantic to get away from the restraining hands. “I have to get her out of there.”
“Take it easy, man.” Someone spoke in his ear, his voice obscenely soothing. “We’ll get her out.”
Slowly he was being pulled away from the car, away from Julia and his only chance to save her. From far away he heard another voice say, “Look what he did to his hands, the poor sap.”
Another voice barked, “Get him over here so I can wrap his hands. Jeez, look at this mess. My God, he’s lucky as hell he didn’t slice an artery. Get him on the gurney, right now.”
He fought the straps tightening around him, fought the surprisingly gentle hands that smeared something cool on his hands, fought the voice that tried to tell him everything was going to be fine. Nothing could be fine anymore, not when Julia was trapped in that car, bleeding, her life slowly seeping away. He fought until he couldn’t fight anymore, until the blackness swirled over him and threatened to pull him under. Just as it closed over him he heard Julia’s voice calling his name.
A siren wailed above Luke’s head, the sound reverberating in his ears. Where the hell was he? Trying to sit up, he realized he was tied down. Straps circled his chest and his thighs, and he couldn’t get his hands free to untie them. As he began to struggle, a hand pushed him back down.
“Take it easy, pal. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Where is there?” he croaked, the sound grating on his raw, aching throat.
“The hospital. You’re not going anywhere until the doctors get a good look at you.”
The accident. The pictures came swarming back. “Julia?” he asked frantically. “Where is she?”
The paramedic nodded his head toward the gurney on the other side of the truck. “Right there. We got your wife out of the car a couple of minutes after you passed out.”
The word wife made a knife turn in his gut, but he ignored the pain. “How is she? Is she alive?”
The paramedic gave him a look, understanding mixed with pity. “Yeah, she’s alive. I’m no doctor, but it looks like she’s going to be fine.” He grinned. “She asked about you, too, before she wanted to know what was wrong with her.” His face sobered. “The two of you are damned lucky. If the impact had been another foot farther forward…” He shrugged. “You’re real lucky.”
The ambulance stopped with a jerk and the back doors were thrown open. Hands reached in and pulled out the two gurneys, first Julia’s, then his. Before he could direct the nurse pushing him to follow Julia, he was in a cubicle with the curtains pulled around him and a young woman bending over him, shining a light in his eyes.
“Untie these damned straps, will you?” he barked at the woman, who ignored him as she continued to examine him. “Dammit, I feel like a Thanksgiving turkey trussed for the oven,” he exploded. “Can’t you at least untie my hands?”
The young woman smiled at him and slipped her tiny flashlight into her pocket. “Only if you promise to stay right here, Mr. McKinley. No jumping off the cart and running off to look for your wife.”
Had the damned woman read his mind? “Where is Julia, anyway?”
“Just down the hall. As soon as Dr. Lynne finishes examining her, I’ll let you know what he found.”
“What am I doing tied down here, anyway? I wasn’t hurt in the accident. The car hit Julia’s side.”
“You injured your hands.” Her voice was infinitely gentle. “Besides checking for any other injuries, I have to make sure you don’t need to be sutured.”
Hands? How the hell had he hurt his hands? He tried to lift his arms to look at them, but they were still tied down. Peering at the name tag on the woman’s white coat, he said, “Dr. Wright, please untie me. I promise to behave.”
She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. In another second the straps were removed, and he slowly sat up, staring at the white bandages cocooning both his hands. Looking back at the young doctor, he said, “How did I hurt my hands?”
The look she gave him was filled with pity. “You were trying to get your wife out of the car. You cut them on the broken window.”
He stared down at the bandages that covered him from the tips of his fingers to midway up his arm. “She’s not my wife,” he murmured. “I couldn’t save my wife.” Lifting his head, he watched the doctor as she unwound the gauze around his hands. “Do what you have to do, Doctor, but make it snappy. I need to get to Julia.”
A half hour later, ignoring the voices raised in protest behind him, he strode into the cubicle where Julia lay on a gurney. She was wide-awake but lying motionless, flat on her back. Hearing him enter the room, she turned and smiled at him, her face full of relief. “I was worried about you,” she said softly.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he answered brusquely, moving to stand next to her. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, I think. They took some X rays a little while ago, and they’re just waiting for someone to look at them.”
Her face was still too white, and there was a wide piece of gauze covering the right side of her forehead. Raising his hand, he smoothed the tip of one finger over the skin below it. “What’s this?”
She shrugged, wincing with pain. “A cut, apparently from a piece of glass. It’s nothing. They’ve already sutured it.”
“Mr. McKinley, only relatives are allowed to stay with our patients. You must leave at once. You can’t come barging in here like this.” A middle-aged nurse bustled into the room, trying to shoo him away.
He moved closer to the gurney, closer to Julia, and he felt her slip her hand into his. Before he could open his mouth to answer, Julia did.
“I want him to stay with me. If he leaves, I’m going to get up and leave, too.”
The nurse’s mouth dropped open with astonishment. “You can’t do that,” she sputtered. “They haven’t read your X rays yet.”
Julia squeezed his hand and smiled at the nurse. “Then it’s a good thing you’re going to let him stay, isn’t it?” she replied sweetly.
The nurse opened and closed her mouth a few times, glared at both of them, then spun around and stalked out the door. When Luke turned back to Julia, he found her staring at the bandages on his hands.
“What happened?” She raised her eyes to his. “How did you get hurt?”
He wanted to hide his hands behind his back, but couldn’t bear to let go of her. “I cut them on some broken glass,” he answered gruffly.
She looked at him questioningly, and he could see her getting ready to ask why there was broken glass on his side of the car. Someone cleared his throat behind them, and he spun around, grateful for the interruption.
“I’ve looked at your X rays, Ms. Carleton, and everything looks fine,” the doctor said. “I imagine you’ll have some soreness in your neck and shoulders for a few days, but there’s nothing broken or dislocated. I’ve written you a prescription for a mild painkiller, and you need to see your own physician in ten days to have the sutures in your forehead removed. Otherwise, you’re all set. You can leave whenever you’re ready.” He paused and smiled. “You were very lucky.” He glanced over at Luke. “You, too, Mr. McKinley.”
He left the room, and Luke turned to Julia. “Do you want to go?”
“Is the pope Catholic? Let’s get out of here.”
She tried to sit up, but he saw her bite her lip with pain. Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he eased her to a sitting position, then squatted to put on her shoes. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he eased her off the gurney and steadied her when she closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?” he asked, fear in his voice. “Should I call the doctor back?”
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I’m fine. I was a little dizzy at first, but it’s gone. Let’s go.”
Walking slowly out to the desk, he asked the receptionist to call them a cab. When he eased Julia down onto a small couch in the waiting room, he pulled her close to him and she rested her head on his shoulder. He didn’t want her any farther away from him than this. He needed to reassure himself that she was alive and that she was all right.
When they climbed into the cab, Luke told the driver to go to the nearest car rental office. They pulled up outside a familiar black-and-yellow sign a few minutes later, and after a surprisingly short time they were in a brand-new gray sedan, driving back toward the hotel.
Neither of them said more than a few words until they were back in their room. They’d stopped once, to fill Julia’s prescription, and as soon as he’d checked the room Luke went into the bathroom, filled a glass of water, and handed her two of the pills.
She took one of them and swallowed it with the water. Luke scowled at her and said, “Take both of them, dammit. You’re going to be sore in a few hours.”
Curling his fingers around the other pill, she shook her head. “We can’t afford for me to be that groggy. I don’t hurt that much, honest. I’ll be fine.”
“We can afford to let you sleep for a few hours. Nothing is happening until the day after tomorrow, after all.”
A shadow passed over her face and was quickly gone. “There must be something we can do between now and then.”
“Dammit, Julia, forget about the case for a minute.” He heard himself shouting and tried to lower his voice. “You were almost killed.” The words felt as if they were torn out of him.
Smiling at him, she stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest. “But I wasn’t. And it was because of your quick reflexes. If you hadn’t managed to turn the car…” Her smile slowly died. “He would have hit me directly and I doubt if I would be standing here right now.”
He couldn’t hold himself back for another second. Closing his eyes, Luke reached for her and wrapped his arms around her. Rocking her back and forth, he whispered, “Oh, God, Julia, I thought you were dead. I thought I ha
d killed you. You were so white, so quiet, and you wouldn’t answer me. There was so much blood, and I couldn’t get you out of the car.” Pulling her close, he whispered again, “I thought I’d killed you.”
Her arms encircled his waist and held on tightly. “You didn’t kill me, Lucas McKinley, you saved me. If you hadn’t reacted so fast, if you hadn’t spun the car around, I might have died. But I didn’t. You saved me.” She unwound her arms from him and reached up to cup his face. “You saved me, Luke,” she repeated. As she stared into his face, he saw the understanding flash into her eyes.
“You weren’t able to save your wife, were you?” she whispered. “You tried, but you were too late.”
“Oh, God, Julia,” he cried, “I thought it was happening all over again.” Closing his eyes against the hot press of tears behind his eyelids, he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent.
Julia pressed her cheek against his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart. She wanted to absorb his pain, just as she was absorbing his heat and his comfort. “Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer for a long time, and she was content to stand and hold him. Finally she felt his mouth kiss her hair, and he shifted in her arms. “I should have been with her that night. If I had been with her, it might not have happened.” His whispered words were pure pain, dredged out of the deepest recesses of his soul.
“You don’t know that,” she protested. She tried to lean back, to look at his face, but he held her more tightly.
“I do know that. She was coming home from a movie, by herself. I was supposed to go with her, but at the last minute Eddie set up a bust on a case that I’d been working on for months. By the time I found out, it was too late to stop it. The irony of it all is that the bust went bad.”
“Why did you go on the bust instead of going with your wife?”
His arms tightened almost painfully, then he thrust her away from him and whirled, striding over to look out the window. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?” The words were spoken with a resigned pain that made her want to run to him, to hold him until it went away. But she stayed where she was, waiting for him to tell her.
An Honorable Man Page 19
