by Vicki Hinze
Annie’s nails were cracked. Several were broken down to the quick until they had bled.
She’d fought and fought hard.
“You were counting on me to keep you both safe, and I let you down.” His throat went thick, his voice hollowed. He blinked hard and fast. “I’m sorry, Annie. If I had come after you myself, we wouldn’t be in this position. What’s happened to you and Lisa—it’s my fault.”
A tear trickled down his cheek. “I love your daughter, you know. I’ve been in love with her since the first time I saw her. She was at the center, and a guy came in demanding to see his wife. Mel called Lisa, and she came out of her office. He gave her a hard time and took a swing at her. Before I could get to her, Lisa had cleaned his clock and I’d fallen in love.”
The memory burned bittersweet. “I love you too, Annie.” He lightly skimmed her short gray curls, careful not to bump the tubes jutting out from her body. “They say you have a weak heart, but your heart is the strongest one I’ve ever seen. It was strong enough to protect Lisa when it meant giving her up. I don’t know how you stood that, but I know you did it for her, to protect her from Dutch. And loving her as much as you do, I’m sure you’ve cried a lot of nights.”
He studied the thin gold band, his blurred vision distorting it. “I promise, I’ll find her, Annie. If I have to spend the rest of my life looking for her, I will. I’ll never give up. Never. You have my word on that.”
Needing the reassurance of touch, he crooked his little finger and clasped it with Annie’s. “Lisa loves you, you know. At the party, for the first time I thought maybe one day she could love me too. Now the odds of earning even a little of her love, well, they’re shot.” His big body quaked. He rolled his shoulders, stretching to absorb the pain pounding through him in waves.
He cleared his throat, his anguish billowing. “I don’t know why I fail the women I most care for and destroy their lives, Annie—Jane, Lisa, you.” Guilt slumped his shoulders. “But I will bring your baby back to you. So help me, I will.” Another tear leaked from his eye and splashed on his cheek, then rolled down his face. “You have to do your part and be here, okay?”
He bent low, whispered close to her ear, “Remember how strong your heart is. Annie, wake up. Please, wake up and tell us what happened to you. I need to know what you don’t want Lisa to remember. Don’t you dare give up, you hear me? You have to fight for you and Lisa.”
He looked down at their hooked fingers. “And don’t die, Annie. Please, don’t die on me too. I’ll never forgive myself, and Lisa will live every day of her life believing she’s to blame.” Mark whispered that with the authority of one tormented by living it. “She’ll hate me forever, and I’ll have lost all of you.” Oh, God, please. Mark sniffed, forced strength into his voice. “Your days as Dutch’s prisoner are over. You can live your life any way you want. You’re free now.”
Her finger bumped against his.
Startled, he jerked up straight. “Annie?” He stared down at their hands. Hers rested against the white sheets so still. Had he imagined the movement? God knew he wanted it, begged for it, prayed for it. Maybe he imagined it. “Annie, did you move your finger?”
He waited. And waited. “Annie, please. Please.”
Again, the tip of her little finger curled and touched against his.
Relief burst inside him. He swung his gaze toward the nurses’ station and called out, “Rose, come quick! Annie moved!”
16
D utch drove south on Highway 331, looking for someplace to stop to eat. There wasn’t much in the way of choices this far out in the sticks at the crack of dawn. Everything he came across between the long stretches of thick and twisted pines was closed.
Finally, he spotted a mom-and-pop café with its lights on and pulled into the loose-gravel parking lot. He parked right outside the door. A red neon OPEN sign in the front window reflected off his hood.
He should call the hospital and check on Annie. Naw, he would wait. If he called and she was dead, it’d only mess up a decent meal.
He went inside and sat in a small green-vinyl booth, then ordered coffee, sausage and eggs, hash browns, and the homemade biscuits he’d smelled as soon as he walked through the door.
The waitress wasn’t much to look at, but she was efficient and that was enough, considering the hour and his mood. “Refill,” he called out, waving his cup.
Annie wouldn’t have liked that. Her face would have turned red.
He liked embarrassing Annie, not that she’d ever dare say a word, but he always knew, and that she kept her tongue still about it showed she knew who was boss. A man could never forget to remind his woman who was boss. Mayor John Green sure found out the costs of failing to do that. Now his widow had bought Dutch’s house. She’d have to find out he was the boss too. That woman was not keeping his house.
The waitress hurried over with the coffeepot and refilled his cup. “Getting an early start this morning, huh?”
“Late night,” he said, solidifying his alibi. This waitress needed to remember him. “I was up in Georgia on business and got a call from the coast that my wife had been mugged. She’s in ICU—critical, the nurse said. So I’m rushing back to see her.”
“You want your food to go, then?”
“No, I’m too upset to try to eat and drive. Safer for everyone else if I just eat and then get back on my way.”
She gave him a sympathy-laced look and touched his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your trouble, and I hope your wife recovers. Hope they catch whoever hurt her too. People can be so mean these days.”
“They sure can.” He cast his eyes down at the table as if overcome. “She’s just got to recover. I can’t imagine life without my Annie.”
The touch on his shoulder turned to a pat. “If you need anything else, you just let me know.”
“Thank you.” She’d remember him, all right. This sympathy thing felt pretty good. After eating his meal, he called the hospital and got through to the ICU. “This is Dutch Hauk. How’s Annie?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not at liberty to release that information.”
Rose. Only now the good doctor’s former nurse was all business and not at all friendly. What was up with that? “Why not? She’s my wife, Rose; of course you can tell me how she is.”
“No sir, I can’t.”
He stilled. “Why not?”
“Let me transfer you to the administrator’s office, Mr. Hauk. They’ll explain. I’m not at liberty to say anything more than that, sir.”
Dutch clamped his jaw and ground his teeth. Somebody had been up to no good—probably that jerk Mark Taylor. Well, it didn’t matter. Dutch wasn’t having it. Nobody had the right to keep him uninformed about Annie. Nobody.
“Mr. Hauk?” A man came on the line.
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“This is Grant Thurman, the hospital security chief.”
“I got nothing to say to you. I want to know how my wife’s doing.”
“I’m sorry, sir. The hospital is under a court order not to release that information to you.”
“A court order?” He saw red. “Her daughter did this, didn’t she? She got a court order to keep you from telling me about my own wife?”
“Actually, no sir, Dr. Harper wasn’t in any way involved.”
“Is she there?” He reacted as would be expected, though of course he knew she was in Masson’s filthy truck on her way to hell. “Let me talk to her.”
“Dr. Harper isn’t here, sir.”
“Well then, get me somebody who can talk to me, and do it right now.”
“There is no one here who can help you, Mr. Hauk. If you want to know anything else, you’ll need to contact Detective Jeff Meyers with the Seagrove Village Police Department.”
Dutch’s blood pressure skyrocketed, setting his temples to throbbing. “Give me his number.”
“I’m sorry but I don’t have it, Mr. Hauk.”
“You have it. You can get it.
Grab a phone book, man, and look it up. I’m on the road, trying to get back to see Annie.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t help you. Hospital policy is explicitly clear when it comes to court orders. I’m authorized only to tell you to contact the detective.”
Dutch nearly exploded. “Thurman, right? That’s your name?”
“Yes sir.”
“Fine. I’ll deal with you when I get there.”
“It isn’t in your best interests to levy a threat against hospital security. I’ll have to report it, of course. Regardless, you can’t come to the hospital, sir.”
“Excuse me?” Dutch fisted his hand on the tabletop.
“I said you can’t come to—”
“I heard you, moron. I just can’t believe what you’re telling me.”
“I’m telling you, sir, that you can’t come within a mile of the hospital unless you’re in a life-threatening situation, and in that case, it must be your own life that is in jeopardy and you must be accompanied by a police escort.”
Dutch let out a foul stream of curses. “Thurman, you have no idea how much you’re going to regret this.”
“I’m just a working stiff doing my job, sir.” Thurman paused. “You are aware that you’ve just threatened me again, right? And that all calls into hospital security are recorded for quality assurance purposes? I’ll be contacting Detective Meyers immediately.”
“Kiss my—”
“Thank you for calling, Mr. Hauk,” Thurman interrupted him. “If I can be of further service, please let me know.”
The line went dead.
Dutch stared at the phone, too furious to even breathe.
No respect. None. Daring to treat him like this—someone was going to pay for it. They’d gotten a court order to keep him away from his own wife? Only one person would dare.
Mark Taylor.
Dutch growled low in his throat. Say good-bye, troublemaker. I don’t care if it costs me a million dollars. I’ll pay whatever it takes. You’re a dead man.
“Are you okay, Lisa?” Gwen flashed the light against the side of the truck near Lisa’s head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lisa wasn’t sure what she’d seen. Maybe she’d imagined the whole motel-room scene. The door being knocked down, the man with the spiderweb on his hand crashing in.
“You’re worried about your mother, aren’t you?” Selene shoved her damp hair away from her face. Poured a little water in her hand and patted it against Lisa’s forehead.
“Yes. I need to be there with her.” Lisa pulled out the tube of salve. “Gwen, put this on your head before that gash gets infected.”
“You pray and steal?” The petite redhead took the tube. “Now that’s a surprising combination.”
Lisa grimaced. “It was an emergency. I’m a doctor and I’m seeing signs of infection. It’s my duty to help.”
“You haven’t mentioned your father.” Gwen passed Selene the flashlight. “Was theirs a messy divorce?”
“They didn’t divorce.” Oh, how she wished he were with her mother. This would be so much easier to bear. “He died when I was little.” That was her fault too. If she hadn’t begged for that roof and told him about the plight of the children in the Haitian orphanage, he wouldn’t have gone down there and fallen.
The motel room flashed in her mind. His shouts reverberated and echoed off the walls of her heart. Why couldn’t she make out what he was saying? Something exploded. Why couldn’t she see what happened in that room after that?
It must not have really happened. If it had, she would remember it. Surely something that important, she’d remember vividly.
“I’m sorry.” Selene let out a sigh. “Losing someone you love is never easy, but when you’re a child, it’s so much harder.”
Lisa tried to focus on the conversation, but the images of that room, the man rushing in, her father coming out of the shower wrapped in a towel, his scream—wait a minute. Wait. Wait …
If this was a real memory and he was there, then he hadn’t died in Haiti. He couldn’t have. She clearly saw her barrette in that room. She and her mother had made it at a craft workshop while her father had been in Haiti.
“See, Daddy.”
“It’s beautiful, honey.”
“Mom and I made it. It’s the only one like it in the whole world …”
He’d seen the barrette—after Haiti.
Confused and afraid, unable to sort it all out, she grabbed at her throbbing temples and rubbed hard. “Something’s not right.”
“A lot’s not right.” Gwen smeared the ointment on her head. “You need to be a little more specific.”
Lisa told them about seeing the tattoo on Frank’s hand, the images it had triggered in her mind. “They were so real.”
“Do you think it actually happened?” Gwen screwed the cap back on the tube of salve. “That’s a pretty big thing to forget, Lisa. Maybe your mind’s playing tricks on you.”
“Maybe.” She took the tube from Gwen and offered it to Selene. “Treat that scrape on your knee.”
Selene took it. “What happened after you screamed? Was your father still shouting?”
In her mind, Lisa heard the explosion. She involuntarily jumped, her ears ringing. Watching herself, she saw herself cover her ears with her hands, bury her face against the wall, and stare down at the floor.
“Oh no. It’s real. It happened.” A deep sob lodged in her soul broke loose and pealed, piercing her ears. “It happened.”
Selene scooted over and hugged Lisa. So did Gwen. The three of them rocked back and forth, back and forth while Lisa cried.
After long minutes, Selene asked, “What happened in that room?”
Lisa lifted her head from Gwen’s shoulder. “My dad didn’t die falling off the roof in Haiti. He was shot. A man broke into our motel room and shot him dead. He—he grabbed me and took me out—took me …” Lisa tried and tried but couldn’t remember. “I don’t know where he took me, but my dad died in that room.”
“Now I understand why you didn’t remember.” Selene smoothed Lisa’s hair and pressed her cheek against Lisa’s crown. “I’m so sorry.”
She straightened. The spiderweb. It was the same men. Impossible. They were too young. Ones with the same tattoo, then. Spiders. No wonder she had always hated them. Could these Spiders really be connected to that one, to what happened back then?
She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. “The man who shot my dad had a tattoo like Frank’s.”
“A Spider?” Gwen groaned. “Oh, this doesn’t sound good. Who was it? Do you know who he worked for?”
“No idea.” Lisa shrugged. “I’m only now remembering this at all.” Her hands shook. She laced them in her lap. “I—I guess I suppressed it. Trauma can do that, you know.”
“It can, and you were very young.” Selene squeezed Lisa’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard and you’re hurt and stunned and these aren’t the best circumstances, but you’ve got to keep it together and try to remember where the man took you. It’s a long shot that it’s the same place, but you could remember something that will help us.”
“Give her some time, for pity’s sake. This is a big shock.”
“I know that, Gwen.” Selene shone the flashlight on the truck’s wall near Gwen. “But think about it. We need to know all we can to avoid an even bigger shock. This is no time to fall apart. None of us has that luxury. Whatever happened happened, and she survived it. Now if we all want to survive, we have to do what must be done to make that happen. It’s that simple.”
“You’re right. We don’t have the luxury of falling apart.” Gwen sobered. “When you can, Lisa.”
Lisa agreed with Selene. To survive and reclaim their lives, remembering quickly was critical. “I’m trying. Really.”
Shoving past the pain, she sank deeper and deeper into her past. Planted herself back in that hotel room. The Spider lifted her off her feet, tucking her under his arm like a football, and th
en ran outside …
“It was a van,” she said. White. No windows in back. “He put something over my mouth.” She covered her lips with her fingertips. “It was silver. Duct tape. He bound my wrists behind my back with it too. He dumped me in the back and then drove away.”
“Was anyone else with him?” Gwen asked.
“No. Just him and me. I—I couldn’t move.” Panic burgeoning, her chest heaved and fell rapidly, her breathing blasted fast and furious. Hyperventilating, she blinked hard, wrapped herself with her arms and fought to control it. “He murdered my father and abducted me,” Lisa told them, her voice cracking. “And God help me, now it’s happened again.”
“I thought she was coming out of it.” Mark had prayed Annie was coming out of the coma.
Rose sent him a sympathetic look. “It happens sometimes. Patients twitch. It’s an automatic response.”
“But twice?” And twitching at precisely the right time? There had to be more to it. Annie heard him. He felt it in his bones.
“Excuse me.” Jeff Meyers claimed Mark’s attention. “You need to get out to the waiting room. Peggy Crane has uncovered something you’ll want to see.”
“Sam?” Mark glanced beyond Annie to the other side of her bed.
“Right here, bud.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll keep an eye on Annie and Rose. You go on.”
Mark left the ICU with Jeff, but Peggy wasn’t in the waiting room. “Where is she?”
“Sorry.” Jeff motioned to the door on the far side of the ICU waiting room. “She’s in the consult office. Thurman set us up in there right after Dutch called and threatened him because of the restraining order.”
“What does Peggy have? Do you know?”
“She wouldn’t tell me. She said she wanted you and me together when she broke the seal.”
Broke the seal? “What is she talking about?”
Jeff raised his hands. “You know what I know.”
When they entered the consult office, Peggy was sitting at the desk, holding a file folder. “Finally. The suspense is making me crazy.” Peggy frowned.
