by Debby Giusti
Just that quickly, reason returned. “I have everything I need, but thanks for checking.”
Seemingly satisfied by her response, he moved on to Evelyn and asked her the same question.
Colleen turned back to the hungry people in line. Serving food to the workers lifted her spirits. She was grateful for the continuing assortment of breakfast casseroles, baked goods and fresh fruit that poured in from people in Freemont who wanted to help. The long line of hungry rescue personnel included firefighters and emergency personnel as well as military from Fort Rickman who appreciated the home-cooked meal.
The clip-clop of horses’ hooves signaled the approach of Amish families in their buggies. Frank greeted the men with a handshake and offered words of welcome to the women and children. Duke frolicked with the youngsters, and they giggled as he licked their hands and wagged his tail.
As the families approached, the workers backed up to let those who had lost much move to the front of the line.
One of the men—evidently a spokesman for the Amish group—held up his hand. “We will wait our turn. We do not want to inconvenience you who are so willing to help us in our need.”
“Please,” a rescue worker insisted, speaking for the others in line. “You and your family need to eat. You’ve lost much.”
“God provides,” the man said with a nod. “We appreciate your generosity.”
He motioned his family forward. Others followed. The eager faces of the children, when they held out their plates, hinted at their hunger.
Colleen was impressed by the children’s politeness and the way they deferred to their parents. The mothers remained close and pointed to the various foods each child could take.
One little boy with blond hair and blue eyes took two bananas and then glanced at his mother, who shook her head ever so slightly.
The child quickly returned the extra piece of fruit and looked up at Colleen. “I must only take what I can eat and leave the rest for others.”
He couldn’t have been more than six or seven, but his demeanor and the apology he offered were that of a much older child.
During a lull in the line, she felt something rub against her leg and looked down to find Duke at her feet. She laughed at the sweet dog and watched him scamper off when Frank called his name.
He bent to pat the dog’s neck, then glancing up, he stared at Colleen. Her heart skittered in her chest, and longing for some normalcy in her life swelled within her. If only she had met Frank under different circumstances.
A man in uniform tapped his shoulder, and Frank turned away. Suddenly, she felt alone in the midst of so many.
“I’m looking for a job to fill,” a middle-aged woman said some minutes later as she approached Colleen. “Ron told me you need a break.”
Although she was capable of working longer, Colleen knew the woman was eager to get involved.
“A break sounds good.”
She looked for Frank and saw him in the distance. He was working with other military men setting up tables and chairs where people could sit while eating their meals. A large generator was humming, and fifty-cup coffeepots had been plugged into the electrical outlets. The smell of fresh-perked coffee wafted past her in the gentle breeze, and many people were enjoying the hot brew.
A ramp extended from the end of a flatbed truck. A man in a gray T-shirt drove a bulldozer down the incline and off the truck.
With a grateful nod, Colleen handed her serving utensil to the newcomer. The woman instantly began chatting with the people in line.
Retreating to the side of the military tent, Colleen grabbed a bottle of water from an ice chest. The cold liquid tasted good and refreshed her.
Everyone was busy, and no one seemed to miss her. After downing the last of the water, she dropped the bottle in one of the temporary trash receptacles and wiped her hands on her jeans. She glanced at the barn, where the back end of her car was visible under the wreckage.
Rubbing her forehead, Colleen mentally retraced her movements yesterday. Usually she kept her purse in the passenger seat, but as she pulled into the rest stop, she’d tossed it into the rear to make room for Vivian.
Again, she checked to ensure no one needed her. Evelyn was chatting with one of the Amish ladies. The other servers seemed content doing their jobs and were focused on feeding the workers and Amish who continued to arrive by buggy.
Seeing that Frank was still tied up with the military, she hurried to the barn area, gingerly picked her way through the downed timber and ducked under the crime scene tape. She peered through the back window into her car but saw nothing except broken glass.
Rounding to the passenger side, she leaned over the front seat, shoved her fingers between the rear seat cushions and sighed with frustration when she came up empty-handed.
In the distance, the bulldozer gathered downed tree branches. The driver piled them to the edge of the road, where they could easily be picked up and carted off later in the day.
Colleen rounded the Honda, only this time, she grabbed the beams that blocked the driver’s door and shoved them aside. The wood was heavy, and her energy was quickly sapped, but she continued to work, intent on having access into the rear of her car, behind the driver’s seat. Without doubt, she’d wake up sore tomorrow, but finding her purse would be worth the effort.
Her neck was damp, and her hands ached, but she smiled with success when she cleared away the last of the rubble. Opening the driver’s door, she saw what she was looking for—a small leather handbag wedged under the driver’s seat. The clasp had come open, and the purse was empty.
She stretched her hand under the seat and patted the floorboard, searching for the spilled contents. She found a lipstick and a comb and placed both items in her bag. Once again, she used her hand to search along the floorboard.
Please, Lord.
A sense of relief spread over her when her fingers curled around her wallet. Pulling it free, she ensured her credit cards, driver’s license and airline identification were still inside.
The roar of the bulldozer grew louder.
She glanced at the food line, which had started to thin. Time was of the essence. Ron and Evelyn would begin cleaning the area once all the people had been fed.
But she still needed the memory card.
An Amish teen appeared from the rear of the barn. He stared at her for a long moment and then walked quickly to where the others were eating.
A nervous flutter rumbled through her stomach at the young man and the pensive look he had given her.
Someone screamed. Colleen turned at the sound and saw Evelyn staring at the barn with her hands over her mouth. Ron was standing next to the young Amish boy. In the distance, she saw Frank running toward her, as if in slow motion.
For the briefest second, Colleen wondered what had caused them concern. Then she heard the whoosh of air and the creak and groan of wood. Glancing up, she saw the lone portion of wall still standing. Only now it was crashing down around her.
She ducked and raised her hands to protect her head. The purse dropped to her feet, its contents spilling onto the ground.
The last thing she heard was Frank’s voice. He was screaming her name.
EIGHT
Heart in his throat, Frank followed the ambulance to the Freemont hospital. He’d been the first to get to Colleen. Medical personnel were close by to respond to the emergency. They’d started an IV line, taken her vitals and then hastened to get her into the ambulance that was currently racing along River Road to Freemont.
Frank’s phone rang. Relieved the cell tower was back in operation, he glanced at Colby’s name on the monitor and pushed Talk. “What’d you find out?”
“The guy driving the bulldozer was Paul Yates. He claimed he’d checked the barn and hadn’t seen anyone in the area before
he picked up the first load of fallen timbers. According to him, he didn’t get near the wall. Steve Nelson, the construction team boss, told me Paul was a conscientious worker and doubted that his man, even inadvertently, would have knocked the load he was carrying against the edge of the barn wall.”
Frank sighed, frustrated at his own mistake. “If he did cause the wall to topple, I have to take some of the blame. I told Steve his men could clear the area around the Craft Shoppe. The store’s structure was in good shape. I thought the sooner we start getting some of the businesses and homes restored, the better.”
“Which was sound reasoning. You’re not at fault, Frank. Yates probably thought he’d clean up around the barn, although—as I mentioned—he said he never saw anyone in the area.”
“Colleen was standing in plain sight by the car.”
“That’s what Ron Malone told me. He verified she was clearly visible when the wall came down, but she could have been hunkered down and peering into her car when Paul checked. If he checked.”
Frank glanced at the purse he’d pulled from under the fallen timber, which she must have found. Colleen had wanted to retrieve her identification and credit cards, yet nothing was worth putting her life in danger.
“Your sister said to let her know when you hear from the doctor,” Colby added.
“Will do. Make sure Ron takes her home so she can rest. She not only looked upset but also exhausted. She worked late last night and was back at it this morning.”
“They plan to leave soon.”
“Have you heard anything from Atlanta PD?”
“Negative.”
“What about the check on the Honda’s plates?”
“I’m not sure what the holdup is. I’ll give them another call.”
“Let me know.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Colby.” Frank hesitated for a long moment, choosing his words. “For being there, for helping.”
“You mean calming you down? It wasn’t your fault she was injured.”
“She’s staying at my sister’s house. I feel responsible. I should have posted a guard at the barn.”
“That’s not CID’s jurisdiction. The Freemont police needed to get involved, although everyone’s overworked at this point. I don’t know if you heard the news. The governor called in the National Guard, but he sent them farther east to Macon, where a second tornado touched down. According to the radio report I heard, he’s satisfied Freemont is well taken care of with Fort Rickman’s help.”
“Only Rickman has their own damage to repair.” The hospital appeared in the distance. “We’re approaching the medical facility. I’ll call you once the doctor makes his diagnosis.”
Frank kept his focus on the ambulance ahead of him. The siren wailed as the EMT at the wheel entered the intersection leading to the medical complex. Frank followed close behind.
He kept seeing the wall crash down on Colleen. He hadn’t been able to get there fast enough and had frantically clawed at the fallen timbers to save her. He’d found her dazed and bleeding from a head wound that was all too close to the blow she’d taken yesterday, which made him even more concerned.
The EMTs had been concerned, as well. They’d used a backboard and neck brace to stabilize her spine and had hurried her into an ambulance.
He hoped she wouldn’t have any permanent injury or hadn’t suffered internal wounds that would need further medical care.
The ambulance braked to a stop in front of the ER. The automatic doors opened, and medical personnel wearing pale green scrubs raced to meet their patient.
The EMTs lowered the gurney to the pavement and pushed her into the hospital. Nurses hovered close by, assessing her injuries as they rushed Colleen into a trauma room.
Frank found a nearby parking space and hurried inside. A nurse pointed him to a room where even more medical staff surrounded the gurney where she lay.
“Can you hear me?” a doctor questioned.
A nurse grabbed the telephone. “We’ve got an injury in trauma room two. I need a CBC and chemistry panel. Protime and PTT. Type and cross for two units.” She nodded. “I’ll place the order now.”
After returning the phone to its cradle, she typed the lab orders on a nearby computer.
“BP’s 130 over 70,” a voice called out. “Pulse 65.”
The doctor checked her pupils and had Colleen follow his finger with her eyes. All the while her head was immobilized on the backboard.
He glanced at Frank, hovering near the doorway. “Family?”
“Ah, no. I’m with the CID.”
“Is she a victim of a crime?”
“Negative. Her injury was accidental.”
“Then I need you to leave the room and give the patient privacy.”
Frank understood the doctor’s request, but he didn’t want to leave Colleen. He knew how fast things could go south if an internal injury was involved.
When the medics had taken him to the field hospital in Afghanistan, he’d been in good shape. Or so everyone had thought. Too quickly his blood pressure had bottomed out. He’d gone into shock and had been rushed into surgery—the first of many.
As Colleen was being lifted into the ambulance, Evelyn had grabbed his hand. The concern in her eyes had made him aware of how much she understood the emotions that were playing havoc with his control.
“I’m praying for Colleen,” she’d assured him.
Knowing his sister’s deep faith and her belief in prayer had brought a bit of calm in the midst of his turmoil. Evelyn would storm heaven, of that Frank could be sure.
He wanted to stand in the hallway outside the trauma room, but a nurse escorted him to a waiting area. She promised to notify him if there was any change in Colleen’s condition. Not that he could sit idly by. He paced from the door to the bay of windows on the far wall and back again, feeling trapped and confined, like a caged animal.
He looked down, expecting to find Duke at his feet and needing his calm support, but Evelyn had kept the dog with her.
Every time the door opened, Frank hoped to see one of Colleen’s nurses.
No one appeared whom he recognized. He glanced at his watch. The ambulance had arrived more than thirty minutes ago. How long would the medical team take before he would receive word of her injuries?
He pulled out his phone and checked his emails, searching especially for a message from Special Agent in Charge Wilson. Frank was ready to get back on active duty. Surely Wilson could use him.
Of course, the chief might not be willing to take a chance on him. Especially after the witness Frank needed to keep safe had been injured.
The door opened, and the nurse from Colleen’s room motioned him forward.
“An aide is transporting Colleen Brennan to X-ray. They should return in a few minutes. The doctor will review the X-rays and test results once they’re back from the lab. If you want to wait in her room, you can.”
Relieved, Frank headed for the trauma room. His stomach tightened when he saw droplets of blood on the floor.
His mind went wild with concern. “You mentioned X-rays. Does that mean internal injuries?”
“The X-rays will tell us a lot. The doctor may order a CT scan.”
Bile rose in Frank’s throat. He glanced at the vinyl chair shoved in the corner and knew he couldn’t sit. Backtracking to the doorway, he peered into the hall, hoping to catch sight of Colleen.
Where was she? What was her condition? What was the doctor keeping from him?
The sound of a gurney rolling over the tile floor flooded him with relief. She was alert, and her color was good. The backboard had been removed, which was another positive sign.
“Did you find the Amish boy?”
Frank didn’t understand what she was saying.
>
“You saw him, didn’t you?” she insisted. “He came out from behind the barn just before the wall toppled.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Straw hat, blue shirt, suspenders.”
The same as every other Amish kid. “You think he caused the wall to fall?”
“I don’t know. Ask Ron. He talked to him.”
“Will do, but what about you?”
“I’m okay.” She grimaced. “Except for my head.”
“Another concussion?”
“They haven’t told me yet. The patient’s the last to know.”
He followed the gurney into the room. The nurse’s aide held up her hand. “Give us a minute, sir, until I get Ms. Brennan settled.”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.” He returned to the hallway. The door closed behind him.
Colleen needed her privacy. Shame on him for barging into her room.
He started to call Colby about the Amish boy, then disconnected when the door to Colleen’s room opened. The aide scurried down the hall.
Frank waited a long moment, wondering if she would return.
He hesitated too long.
Another health-care worker, wearing a white lab coat, entered the trauma room and closed the door.
Frank shook his head with frustration. At this rate, he might never see Colleen. Patience had never been his strong suit, except when he pulled surveillance. Today’s wait seemed especially trying.
The main thing was to ensure Colleen was okay.
His cell rang. Colby’s number.
Frank raised the mobile device to his ear. “Did you find out anything?”
“Can you talk?”
Frank’s gut tightened. Needing to speak freely, he headed for the empty waiting room. Colby had information to share, but from the negative overtones in his voice, the news wasn’t good.
Did it involve Colleen?
* * *
Colleen hadn’t expected Frank to follow her to the hospital and then wait while the various tests were being run. She thought he had stayed behind. Spotting him in the hallway when she came back from X-ray had been a surprise that added a hint of brightness to a very bleak day.
