by B. J Daniels
“Almost three—a.m.,” he said.
She nodded, time meaning absolutely nothing right now.
The doctor handed her a glass of water from the nightstand beside her bed and waited while she drank greedily.
“Easy,” he warned as she choked on the water. “You’re in a hospital, miss. You’ve had a car accident.”
She blinked. A car accident? Her heart began to race. “My son. Tell me my son is all right.”
He frowned, his thick gray eyebrows beetling together. “Your son?”
“Tyler. Where is Tyler?” She tried to sit up, but he rested a heavy hand on her shoulder as he took the empty cup from her.
“Easy now. Let’s just take it a step at a time. Can you tell me your name?”
“Anna…” For a moment, she couldn’t think of her last name. She swallowed, her throat raw, the headache blinding. “Collins. Please, I have to see my son.” Her voice broke. “Tell me he’s all right. Tell me he made it.”
“Try to remain calm,” he said, frowning down at her with grandfatherly concern. “Your son was in the car with you? How old is your son?”
“Tyler’s four. You have to help him!” Her voice rose and she began to sob as she clutched at one edge of his white lab coat. “Just tell me he’s alive. Please.”
She was hysterical now, sobbing and gripping at his coat, crying, “Save my son. Please save my son.”
“Sheila,” the doctor said, and the nurse she’d seen before moved into her line of vision. Anna felt something prick her skin. Darkness moved along the edge of her vision again, that silent black emptiness calling her back.
She’d been in the dark too long. She clutched tighter at the doctor’s white lab coat. “My son. Please.” Her voice rasped as the heavy weight of the drug worked to pull her under.
Dr. Brubaker nodded. “Don’t you worry now. We’ll take care of it.”
Her fingers loosened on his coat, her arm dropping back to the bed. Her eyes fluttered. She felt the dead weight of her body as she was dragged down, back into that dark nothingness.
OFFICER D.C. WALKER SHOOK the rain off like a duck as he entered the small, quiet hospital. He caught his reflection in the window as he passed the empty nurses’ station. He looked like hell. But he felt worse as he pushed open the door to the doctors’ lounge.
Doc Brubaker glanced up from the chair where he was sprawled. It gave Walker little comfort that Doc looked worse than he did.
“Any luck finding the boy?” Doc asked anxiously.
Walker shook his head as he shrugged out of his rain jacket and tossed it onto one of the orange plastic chairs. He helped himself to a stale doughnut.
Without asking, Doc reached for the coffeepot and poured him a cup, then refilled his own.
“Thanks,” Walker said as he took the coffee and plopped down in an empty chair. The coffee looked like black sludge, but as long as it contained caffeine and was hot, he wasn’t about to complain. He couldn’t remember a longer night and it still wasn’t over.
“I called out Search and Rescue,” he said, between bites of the doughnut. “They’ve combed the shoreline and the woods, but so far nothing. It’s so damned steep where the car went off. Water’s deep there and with the spring runoff, real murky. The dive team’s gearing up to go down.”
Doc shook his head. “I hate to think of a four-year-old out there, as cold as it is. I suppose he could still be in the car.”
“If he was strapped in a car seat in back, she might not have been able to get him out.”
Dr. Brubaker rubbed a hand over his face. “The only way the boy might have survived is if there’s a trapped air bubble. Stranger things have happened.”
Walker studied him for a long moment wondering if the doc really put much store in that. “Mac’s gonna get his biggest tow truck up there at soon as it gets light. He’s not sure he has enough cable to pull the car out though. Might have to borrow a newer towing rig from one of the large towns. Your patient say anything else?”
Doc shook his head. He definitely looked older since his wife had died. Walker thought about the rumors he’d heard that Doc was dying. He didn’t put much stock in them though. Rumors were always circulating in Shadow Lake. And just because Doc was getting his affairs in order, so what?
Like the rumor going around about Police Chief Nash’s pretty young wife, Lucinda. But who the hell married a woman half his age and thought she’d be faithful? Walker had learned the hard way about infidelity during his one and only marriage. Not that he was bitter. Much.
Shadow Lake was a hotbed for affairs, especially during the long cold winter months when the population dropped. There was a standing joke that the residents who wintered-in here switched wives and girlfriends and then held a roundup in the spring to divvy up the kids. He used to think that was funny.
“Were you able to reach her husband?” Doc asked. He sounded tired and he certainly hadn’t been looking well lately. But Walker figured that was to be expected given how many years he and Gladys had been together. He imagined it must have been hell for Doc to watch his wife waste away like that and in so much pain.
“No answer at the husband’s house,” Walker said. “I left a message, but for all we know the husband was in the car too. Hell, he might have been the one driving.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Doc said. “All I could think about was the little boy.”
It was too bad Doc had never had any kids of his own, Walker thought.
Fortunately Anna Collins had been in a vehicle with an in-car emergency system that had notified the police department the minute her air bag deployed and tried to raise the car’s occupant on the built-in cell phone.
When no one responded, the operator had given the police dispatcher the location of the car via the in-car global-positioning system and the Shadow Lake dispatcher had radioed the police department where Walker had taken the call.
Walker pulled his pencil from behind his ear, touched the tip of it to his tongue and opened his small notebook. “You said she just stumbled up to the hospital?”
Dr. Brubaker nodded. “Half drowned, good-size knot on her left temple. Sheila was on duty and heard the alarm go off, looked up and saw her collapse just inside the front door. She said the woman regained consciousness, mumbled something about her car crashing into the lake before she passed out again.
“That’s when Sheila beeped me,” Doc said in an exhausted voice. “I called you right away and was told you’d gone out to the crash site.”
Walker had been taken aback when he’d seen where the woman’s car had left the road. “No way could she climb back up to the highway, so I guess it makes sense that she would come out on the beach. That would have put her out with the hospital being the closest building.”
“That’s probably what had saved her life,” Doc said. “Given the temperature of the air and the water, if she’d been out there any longer she wouldn’t have made it. She was already hypothermic when she reached us.”
“Did she mention her son when Sheila found her?”
“No.” The doctor poured himself more coffee. “She was confused and scared.”
Walker nodded. “I called her in-car emergency provider. The car is a blue Coupe de Ville Cadillac registered to her and a—” he consulted his notes “—Marc Collins, presumably her husband. The address is Seattle. No answer at the primary residence, but I had a black-and-white go over to see if anyone was home. She said her son’s name was Tyler, right?”
Brubaker nodded. “She became so hysterical I had Sheila give her a sedative to calm her down. Anything I’d have said would have only upset her more. She just assumed that her son was here at the hospital.”
“You can’t miss the spot where her car went off the road,” Walker said. “Right there by the cliffs. No sign of the vehicle. But lots of small trees down. Couldn’t have gone off at a worse place if she’d planned it.”
Doc looked up. “You don’t think she—”
> “Purposely drove off there?” Walker shrugged. He’d long ago given up trying to guess what a woman might do. “There weren’t any skid marks that I could see. But it was raining, so I couldn’t tell if she tried to brake.”
Doc shook his head and closed his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. “I’m sure it was just an accident.”
Walker was never sure of anything. “She didn’t say what she was doing driving up here at that hour of the night?”
“No. She should sleep for a while. I’m hoping her son is found and I will have good news for her by the time she wakes up.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Walker said, studying the doctor again. Since his wife’s death, Doc Brubaker had been trying to find a doctor for the town. Few doctors wanted to live in such an isolated town, let alone make so little money and work such long hours. Along with being on call for the town, the local doctor saw to the small nursing home facility attached to the hospital.
Doc hired young interns for the summer months to give him a break, but none of them had shown any interest in staying once the first snowflake fell.
Walker knew Brubaker had talked about retiring even before his wife had died. He figured it wouldn’t be long and Shadow Lake would be without a doctor. “You all right?”
Doc opened his eyes, seeming surprised by the question, then uncertain as he glanced toward the darkness beyond the windows. “It couldn’t have been a suicide attempt. Not if the boy was in the car with her.”
Obviously the doc didn’t read the papers. Not having any children of his own, Doc Brubaker had no concept of what parents could do to their children.
Walker stood and noticed he’d left a puddle of rainwater on the floor in front of the chair where he’d been sitting.
“Don’t worry about it,” Doc said, following his gaze. “I’ll get someone to clean it up. Find the boy. I don’t want to tell that young woman that her son is out there in that lake.”
BRUBAKER CLOSED HIS EYES as Walker left. Sheila would come for him when he was needed.
But he knew he wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. Well, he thought ruefully, it wouldn’t be long and he’d get plenty of rest.
He got up and made another pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night and making the coffee gave him something to do. Not that it could take his mind off the woman down the hall. He was worried about her. The cold of the lake had caused heart rhythm disturbance. Sheila had said the woman seemed delirious when she’d been found, suffering from hypothermia.
But he suspected that was the least of it. He’d seen a look in Anna Collins’s eyes that had been painfully familiar.
He hated to think how many times he’d seen that look in his patients’ eyes over the years. More recently, he’d seen it in his wife’s. Defeat. Surrender. A lack of will to live.
With Gladys it had been the pain and knowing what the future held for her. He squeezed his eyes shut remembering the feel of his wife’s hand in his as she met his eyes that final night.
He shoved away the memory and considered the woman down the hall, bothered by the fact that she couldn’t be more than thirty. He realized he could have had a daughter her age if Gladys had been able to carry the baby they’d conceived to term.
Another painful memory to be shoved to the far corner of his heart.
He wondered what had happened to the woman down the hall that had put that look in her eyes.
Most patients were surprised to wake up in a hospital. She hadn’t appeared to be. He could only assume it was because she’d been in a hospital, not that long ago, from what he would guess had been a severe head injury given the sizable older scar that ran from her forehead up into her scalp.
And now she had a cut and goose egg on her temple from her car accident tonight, along with water in her lungs.
He could only guess what this woman had been through. Or what she’d been doing on the lake road this time of year, late at night in a rainstorm. He just hoped she’d been alone in the car, and confused due to her two recent head traumas.
Brubaker couldn’t stand the thought of what it would do to the woman if her son had been in that car.
WHEN ANNA OPENED HER EYES, she found a man about her age slumped in the chair next to her bed. Her heart began to pound as she saw that he wore the blue uniform of a cop.
He had removed his hat. It now dangled from the fingers of his left hand. His dark hair was too long at the nape and his features were rough, his nose obviously having been broken more than once. And, even though his eyes were closed and his breathing deep in sleep, there was a scowl on his face.
Blinking in confusion, she touched her temple and found a small bandage. A mixture of fear and hope filled her as her fingers quickly rushed to touch her forehead, praying that the horrible scar wouldn’t be there.
It was. Tears sprang to her eyes, all hope gone that this was the first time she’d awakened in a hospital, leaving her body like a ghost, her mind and heart again in agony.
As quietly as possible, she turned toward the window, not wanting to rouse the police officer. She’d awakened before with a policeman next to her hospital bed. It had been the worst news of her life. She couldn’t imagine how it could be worse this time.
Daylight spilled through the large first-floor window. Beyond the rain-streaked glass, clouds hung in the pines. Past them, she could see more pine trees and what appeared to be rocky cliffs rising out of the rainy mist.
She had no idea where she was. All she knew for certain was that she’d never seen this place before.
She closed her eyes. Earlier she’d fought the bottomless sleep of the dead, thinking there was hope.
Now she knew better and gladly welcomed oblivion.
“Mrs. Collins?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Mrs. Collins, I know you’re awake.”
She slowly parted her eyelids to find the cop had walked around the bed and was now standing over her. She hadn’t heard him and suspected he’d wanted it that way.
As she looked up into his face, the warm brown eyes startled her. They didn’t go with the hard leanness of his face.
“I’m Shadow Lake Police Officer D.C. Walker. I need to ask you a few questions.”
She tried to remain calm as she watched him take a small notebook from his breast pocket, pluck a pencil from behind his ear and pull the chair closer to her bed.
He flipped to a page in the notebook and squinted down at it as if he couldn’t read his own writing. “Your name is Anna Collins?”
She nodded, then realized her mistake. “No. Drake. It’s Anna Drake.”
He frowned. “You told the doctor it was Collins and your in-car emergency service has the car’s primary driver listed as Anna Collins.” His attention went to her ring finger and the large diamond next to her gold wedding band.
“I was Anna Collins. I’m only recently divorced. I just haven’t taken off the ring yet or changed my name on the car.” She felt her face flame and cringed at the way she sounded. Pathetic. And still wearing the ring. A woman unwilling to accept reality. That was her.
The cop looked as if he would doubt anything she told him after this. “I understand your car went off the road last night and into the lake?”
She felt a jolt. “Is that what happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
She started to shake her head but stopped herself. Any movement caused excruciating pain. She ran the tip of her finger along the scar from her forehead into her hair, then retraced the line as she had a habit of doing whenever she was trying to remember.
“No, I do remember being in the lake.” She shuddered as she had a flash of memory—water rising over the hood of the Cadillac.
He studied her, then asked, “Who was in the car with you?”
She swallowed and straightened the covers. “No one.”
“What about your son? You told the doctor your son was in the
car with you.”
Her throat closed. “I was confused. He wasn’t in the car.” She touched the old scar again then, realizing what she was doing, quickly brushed her bangs back down over it and curled her hands together in her lap to keep them from shaking.
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re saying. Ms. Drake?”
She hadn’t been Anna Drake for almost ten years. Why had she insisted on taking her name back? She could no more go back to being the woman she’d been before she’d married Marc Collins than she could change the past.
“My son wasn’t in the car with me.”
“Tyler, right? You’re sure he wasn’t in the car?”
“Yes. I told you I was confused earlier. I thought—” She turned her face away. “I was wrong.” Tears burned her eyes. “Please, I’m really tired.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Where were you going when you had your accident last night? Were you headed to Shadow Lake to visit someone?”
She shook her head, the pain almost comforting compared to the fear that quaked through her. History was repeating itself. She couldn’t remember last night. Nothing.
“I don’t know where I was going. I…I don’t remember.” She closed her eyes. “Please, I just need to be alone.”
“Where is Marc Collins?”
“I don’t know. I told you. We’re divorced.” She squeezed her eyes tighter, her fingers gripping the sheet until they ached. She heard the cop swear under his breath and could sense him still sitting there watching her. After a few moments, she heard him close his notebook. But he didn’t leave. Please, just go away.
“Is there someone I can call? Family? A friend?”
“No,” she said, without opening her eyes. “There is no one.”
She waited until she heard the door close behind him before she let it out, the anguish, the tortured grief. Tyler. My baby. Oh God, Tyler.
CHAPTER FOUR
POLICE CHIEF ROB NASH bolted upright in the bed in an unfamiliar motel room, his clothes sweat-soaked to his skin and a cheap synthetic second-rate motel pillow clutched in both fists as if he was trying to strangle it.
