by Michael Cole
Don didn’t yet feel the pain from the numerous fractures he suffered. He crawled a few feet further away from the shore and rolled onto his back. He stared straight up at the darkening sky for a few moments before slipping into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER
6
The time was 9:23 p.m. as Morgan Sydney stared up at the ceiling in his bedroom. He was tired but unable to fall asleep. The pain in his leg throbbed, and the fact that his mind dwelled on it only made it worse. His eyes consistently went to his window. Sunset had occurred about twenty minutes ago, typical for this time of year. He felt himself grow frustrated and actually longing for his Meperidine pills. He hated them, but at least the drowsiness side effect came in handy for nights like these.
The thought of the medicine brought his ex-wife to mind again. And each thought of her seemed to worsen his leg pain. It brought back memories he regretted, and the torture of reminiscing the things he would’ve done differently.
His cell phone rang, breaking his train of thought. It was resting on his dresser, which was right next to his bed. He reached over, accidentally knocking it off the floor.
“Goddamnit,” he cursed. He fumbled for the phone and finally answered it. “Chief Sydney.”
“Hey, Chief,” answered Tim Marlow’s voice. “Sorry to call you this late.”
“It’s no problem, Tim,” he said. He had forgotten the young officer had signed up for a double shift. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, uh…we have a bit of a situation here over at 4351 Harrison Street. Somebody found somebody unconscious over by the water.”
“Is EMS there?”
“They’re almost here. I can hear their sirens down the street. But here’s the strange thing, Chief: It looks like this guy might have had some sort of boating accident. There’s a boat here on the shore, all smashed up…and there’s also another one submerged out in the lake. You can see the front of it sticking up. And there’s nobody else out here.”
“Oh shit,” Sydney said. “Okay, just give me a couple minutes and I’ll head out there. How many other officers are on scene?”
“Me, and two others,” Marlow said.
“Alright,” Sydney said. “Keep your flashers on, and spot for the ambulance. Keep anybody else off the scene. Get a statement from the person who called it in. I’ll be on the road in three minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Marlow said. Sydney hung up the phone and limped to his closet. He pulled out his uniform and began dressing himself. He clipped his duty belt on and holstered his Beretta M9. Being the RPD chief had a few perks, one of which being he could use whichever weapon he wanted. The M9 wasn’t favored by most, but it served him well, and he usually hit what he shot at.
He made his way through the kitchen toward the front door. He twisted the handle to open it. He then stopped, looking at the orange prescription bottle on the table. Ibuprofen barely did anything for the pain, and usually made his stomach worse. However, it would be better than nothing.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud to himself. He spilled an 800 mg pill into the palm of his hand and guzzled it down with a full glass of water. He then proceeded out the door.
********
The emergency flashers installed on the Jeep Rubicon created a red glow in the dark street as Sydney steered onto Harrison Street. He could see the flashes from EMS, Fire Rescue, and RPD up ahead. After arriving at the scene, he parked off the road, leaving the engine running as he stepped out.
Tim Marlow approached him. Sydney looked past him at the EMTs and paramedics grouped around the victim. It was the same group of people, mainly a volunteer unit. He recognized one of those volunteers as Joel Pobursky, whom he had met several times at the lodge. Joel was busy directing the workers in loading the victim onto a stretcher.
“Has there been any update?” Sydney asked Marlow.
“None so far, sir,” Marlow replied. “It sounds like this guy’s pretty busted up.”
“Is he conscious?” Sydney asked.
“He’s been in and out. He muttered something about a fish, and then slipped away again.” Sydney started walking down to the beach area, keeping distance to give the first responders space to tend to the individual. One of the other officers had a spotlight fixated on the bow of a mostly submerged boat, roughly thirty feet from shore. From what he could see, the left side appeared to be caved inward. Washed up to the left was the other boat. The bow was an unrecognizable mess, crunched in entirely, and much of the underside was crumpled inward as well.
“Definitely a collision,” Sydney said. He looked at the surrounding lake area near the partly submerged boat. “Plenty of open space. How in the hell did he manage to hit this other boat?” He grabbed his flashlight and scanned the shoreline. Fishing lures, hooks, and bits of bait were washing up, collecting in the sand. He looked to Marlow. “Do we have any idea what time this occurred?” Marlow shook his head.
“We got the call roughly ten minutes before I called you,” he said. “This isn’t really a residential road, so not many people pass through here.”
“So God only knows how long that guy was lying there until someone saw him,” Sydney said. “Is the person that found him still here?”
“No, he wanted to take off,” Marlow said. “There wasn’t anything he told us that we don’t already know from looking at this. And there’s no sign of the owner of that other boat.”
“Damn it,” Sydney cursed. “Something tells me we’re looking for a body. We’re probably gonna have to dredge this area if this other possible boater doesn’t turn up.” He looked back to the EMTs. They had the individual secured on the stretcher. Joel kneeled at the front with another at the back, grabbing the grips.
“One…two…three…lift,” Joel said. They lifted up, elevating the stretcher three feet, and began rolling it toward the ambulance. He stepped into the ambulance bed and then lifted the stretcher to move it inside. Sydney started to jog over to them, which caused the pain in his leg to flare up. He quietly cursed and reduced his speed to a fast walk.
“Joel!” he called out. Joel looked up at him.
“Howdy, Chief,” he said.
“Is he conscious? Has he said anything about what happened?”
“He’s been slipping in and out,” Joel said. “But we need to get him to the hospital. He’s got multiple contusions, likely several fractures, a concussion, and I think he might have internal bleeding.”
“Alright,” Sydney said. “I’ll follow you guys to the hospital.” The other EMT climbed into the ambulance and shut the door. The siren started blaring as the driver steered the ambulance onto the road. Sydney started walking toward his Jeep. Marlow kept pace with him.
“What do you want us to do, Chief?” he asked.
“Stay here and preserve the scene,” Sydney said. He then took in a slow breath and continued. “Also, take a walk along the shoreline…in case another body washes up.” Even in the dark, Sydney could see Marlow turn pale. The young officer was clearly unconditioned for seeing such a thing.
“Y-yes sir,” he said. Sydney climbed into his Jeep and blared the siren as he took off.
********
The ambulance was stopped at the Readfield Hospital’s emergency entrance as Sydney drove into the lot. He drove up and parked his jeep twenty feet behind the ambulance. Joel and his fellow EMTs had already unloaded the patient and were wheeling him into the ER. Sydney followed them in.
The ER lobby was wide open and brightly lit. Two nurses immediately approached the stretcher. Sydney stayed back and allowed them to do their work. While waiting, he could overhear the conversation between the EMTs and nurses.
“He’s been in and out since we found him,” Joel explained. “He has not been coherent; clearly a concussion. Blood pressure’s 87 over 52. It looks like he’s got a bit of swelling going on. Possibly internal bleeding, judging from the low blood pressure…” He paused for a moment and looked around the room. “Don’t you guys have an ER doctor?�
��
“I’m here,” a voice called out from the rear hallway. Sydney looked past the gathering, seeing the doctor stepping out into the lobby, tying her hair back behind her head. Sydney swallowed hard, recognizing the doctor to be Meya.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said to himself. Dressed in blue scrubs, his ex-wife put on some latex gloves and walked to the stretcher. Joel directed his attention toward her.
“I was telling the nurses that this guy might have…”
“I heard you from back there,” she cut him off. She put on her stethoscope and pressed the diaphragm to the patient’s chest. “I need a line on this guy and a bag of saline, wide open. Let’s get a new blood pressure reading,” she then said. The nurses placed a cuff on his upper arm, and Meya placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope over the brachial artery. The nurse inflated the cuff then released the air. Another nurse began tapping at his other arm to make a vein stand out so she could start an IV.
Joel moved away from them and stood beside the chief. “Yeah, not like we didn’t just take his blood pressure,” he griped. He noticed Sydney’s sour expression. “What’s up with you?” he questioned with a grin. “Swallow a pigeon?”
“Nothing you’ll want to hear,” Sydney said. Joel looked over at the doctor.
“You have a crush on the lady-doc, do ya?” he cackled. Sydney bit his lip.
“No… I was married to her for nine years,” Sydney said. Joel’s grin transformed into a surprised expression.
“Oh…wow,” he said. “Small world.”
“Too small,” Sydney said. “Did you get a name for the individual? Was there any identification?”
“No,” Joel said. “His shorts pockets were empty. And he wasn’t even lucid enough to tell us his name.” Meya’s commanding voice caught both their attention as she barked orders at her nurses. The patient had woken up suddenly, as if hit by a shot of adrenaline. He panicked and started squirming in his stretcher, rocking it back and forth.
“Sir, sir! You’re all right! You’re in a hospital,” Meya said to him. The panicking patient did not relent. He kept trying to look back, as if he thought something was behind him. His eyes were wide open, nearly bulging out of their sockets. Meya grabbed his arm to keep his IV line in. She knew she had to get him under control, or else his blood pressure would drop even further. “One milligram of Ativan!” she yelled to one of the nurses. Joel hurried over and helped hold the patient down as a nurse filled a syringe with the dosage and injected it into his IV. After about thirty seconds, the patient stopped struggling and laid back, appearing to be in a trance.
“Alright, we need to get him into the operating room,” Meya said. They started wheeling the stretcher down the hallway. Sydney stepped forward and raised his hand.
“Whoa, one quick sec!” he said. “I need to get a quick statement from him.” Meya looked back at him, visibly irritated. The nurses continued wheeling the stretcher while she hung back.
“Listen, Chief,” she said, “I don’t know if you’ve gone blind in the last couple years, but it’s obvious this man’s not in any condition to be interrogated.”
“It’s not an interrogation,” Sydney said. “There’s important info I need to get from him regarding the accident. There might be another—”
“I’m sorry, it’s not happening,” Meya said. “Take your damn ibuprofen and let me do my job.” She turned and marched down the hallway. Joel could hear Sydney curse under his breath.
“Anything I can do to help out?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” Sydney said. “I need to head back. We might need to get divers in the water if we can’t find the owner of that second boat.” He exited the ER lobby and boarded his Jeep. He drove through the turnaround and sped through the lots, lights still flashing.
Joel’s volunteer work was done for the night. He and the other EMT boarded the ambulance to go home. All he could do at this point was to go home, reheat his chili dinner, and hope for good news on the victim.
********
Tim Marlow could see the emergency flashers on the chief’s approaching Jeep light up the street in strobes of red. He had just returned from patrolling the shore north of the accident scene, with no luck of locating the other boat owner or any witnesses. His boots and bottom of his pants were now wet from checking the shoreline, and he was exhausted from the long day. His watch read 10:13, forty-seven minutes away from the conclusion of his double-shift.
Chief Sydney parked his jeep off the side of the road. He stepped out and saw Marlow approaching.
“Did you find anything?” he asked the young officer.
“Nothing, sir,” Marlow said. “How’s the guy? Did he ever wake up?” Seeing the chief’s agitated facial expression, he somewhat regretted asking.
“He did, but they had to sedate him,” Sydney said. “I wanted to attempt to ask about the accident, but Meya had to stick it to me. ‘This man’s not in any condition to be interrogated,’” he mimicked a woman’s voice.
“Meya?” Marlow asked, confused.
“My ex… uhh, the doctor at the hospital,” Sydney said quickly. He walked down to the shore. The scene remained undisturbed, with each boat untouched. There were two more officers on scene. One was poking a branch into a collection of cattails. He expressed a nervous grin when he noticed the chief staring at him. “What are you doing?”
“Just…uh…just trying to see if anyone possibly washed up over here,” he stuttered.
“We’re not looking for a bullfrog,” Sydney said. He then looked at his manpower. There were four officers on scene, with a fifth patrolling the town. “Alright, I want one person to remain here. Call dispatch and have them get somebody out here to tow these boats away. Have you guys been taking photographs of the scene?” He watched the three officers look at each other timorously. What police academy have these guys been to? Sydney thought.
“I took some on my phone,” Marlow raised his hand. Sydney barely hid his surprised reaction.
“Alright,” Sydney looked at the other officers. “Two of you keep patrolling the shore. Marlow and I are gonna get a boat and check the other side.” One of the officers glanced down at his watch. Sydney knew what was on his mind. “Got a date?” Sydney said to him.
“Wha…no. Just, uhh…”
“Don’t even mention shift change,” Sydney cut him off. “Alright, get to it guys. Radio in if you find anything.” He turned and went to his Jeep, followed by Marlow.
********
The police docking station was only a seven-minute drive from the accident. It was composed of two small decks that protruded twenty feet into the water, each with a twenty-foot police vessel tied alongside. Sydney and Marlow boarded one and began patrolling the water. Sydney asked dispatch to phone the hospital to check if anyone else had been checked-in for injuries related to the situation. So far, nobody had been admitted, which made Sydney dread the situation more. Missing person cases were no picnic, and they were even worse when he didn’t know who the missing person was…or even if there was one.
Sydney operated the boat from the cockpit, while Marlow aimed a spotlight attached to the starboard railing. He moved the beam of light over the water. A light fog had formed over the water, making it harder to see anything. Sydney had pointed out that the person was likely wearing a life vest, so finding him afloat would be no problem.
“There was a dock over there,” Marlow said. “Could it be possible the missing guy’s boat was docked there, came loose, and then the other guy hit it?” He realized almost instantly how unrealistic it sounded. “Actually, nevermind.”
“At least you’re attempting to use your brain,” Sydney said.
“Are you gonna go to the hospital tomorrow to try and speak to that guy?”
“Yeah, but by then we’ll probably have found the other individual,” Sydney said. “But we still need his details for our report.” Marlow continued guiding the light over the water.
“Have you had a l
ot of cases like this when you were with the state?” he asked. Plain dumb conversation was better than silence.
“I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of missing persons,” Sydney said. “But usually they were kidnappings, murders, or runaways. Something like this, they usually turned up quick. Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t found this person yet.”
“I heard of this one case down in Florida,” Marlow said. “They made this big drug bust, and one of the suspects made this run into the marshes. Apparently, this guy wore this red crystal ring on his middle finger. They could not find the guy. And he never turned up anywhere. Even associates reported they couldn’t find him. Then some gator hunter shot himself a twelve footer. Then he gutted the thing, found this red crystal ring lodged in its stomach.” Sydney allowed a small grin to show through. It quickly went away as he winced in pain and put his hand over his leg. After a moment, he saw Marlow looking at him with concern.
“I know you’ve been wanting career advice from me. Well, I got some here; don’t get shot,” he said.
“How’d you know I wanted advice?” Marlow said.
“Kid, I can read you like a book,” Sydney said.
“I can read you too, sir,” Marlow said. “I know you miss working for the state, and you don’t want to be here. Getting your leg nearly blown off changed things. I can tell you don’t think you’re living up to your full potential here, and in a way that hurts more than the leg.” Sydney stayed quiet for a few moments. He wasn’t sure whether Marlow was as intuitive as he seemed, or if his misery was simply that obvious. Either way, the young officer was right, though Sydney would never admit it.
“Most rookies aren’t so straightforward,” he said.
“Like I said before, I hope to be running my own department one day,” Marlow said. “I figured straightforwardness is a quality in a leader.”
