“Wait,” Greg said. “Wait!” He wasn’t done. She was in the middle of something. But the three patrolmen dragged him out of that building faster than should have been possible. He kept thrashing, desperate for a last glimpse of her. For a last word. He kicked one of the younger ones, but not hard enough to stop their progression. Suddenly it was blue skies and fresh air.
“Put him in my car,” Oliver ordered.
His young partners shoved Greg in the backseat. Greg landed on his elbow, having no other way to break his fall.
One of the patrolmen moved to get in beside him, and the other opened the passenger door.
“What are you doing?” Oliver said. “Go back inside and assist Chief Jamansky.”
“But, sir,” one said, “Chief wants us to go with you.”
Oliver grabbed the passenger door and slammed it shut. “Go! That’s an order.”
Without another word, Oliver stormed around to the driver’s side and got in. His partners jumped on the sidewalk in time for him to throw the car into reverse. Greg might have been thrilled, but Oliver’s bravado came two minutes too late. His mom’s fate was sealed. She’d never survive the next hour, let alone the next four months. His eyes burned red hot.
“I’m sorry, Greg,” Oliver said as he backed up.
“You’re sorry? Sorry!” Greg shouted.
He leaned forward, wishing his hands weren’t cuffed so he could reach through the safety cage and shake the coward. “Do you realize what’s gonna happen to her if she walks home? Or the clan if Ashlee drives her home? How could you let Jamansky do this?”
“Sit down! I can’t think with you yelling at me, and my partners are still watching.”
Oliver drove at a slow pace down Main Street, past the trees which had finished blooming and Carrie’s flower shop, driving slow enough to drive Greg to insanity. Greg sat back, fists clenching behind him. His mom would die out on those cornfields entirely and utterly alone. No one would even know why they had never returned.
He searched for a door handle. None. But the window didn’t look too thick. He could kick it out.
“How is Jamansky even here?” he asked, sliding over to where he could bust out the passenger-side. “How is he the new chief?”
“Mayor Phillips sprung him from prison,” Oliver said. “They’ve been working the black market together this whole time, so they arrested Chief Dario to get him out of the way. Jamansky owns me now, and he knows it.”
“Obviously! She’s gonna die!”
Oliver ignored the outburst. He clutched the steering wheel and checked his rearview mirror again.
“Not yet. Not yet,” he said softly.
Greg glanced behind them. Oliver’s partners had disappeared inside the precinct, which meant Oliver was watching for Ashlee and his mom to emerge, heading for Jamansky’s car. Greg watched, too, desperate for a last glimpse. But then they cleared a bend, the township offices slipped from sight.
Oliver slammed on the brakes, sending Greg sliding into the metal barrier between them. Oliver jumped out and opened Greg’s door.
“What are you doin’?” Greg asked.
“Get out.”
“Why? It’s too late!”
“No, it’s not.” Oliver rustled some keys from his pocket. “I’m taking your mom home. I’ll make sure she gets there safely. Now stand up and turn around.”
“What? How?” Greg asked even as he struggled out of the car.
“If she’s walking, I’ll find her on the trail and drive her the rest of the way. If Ashlee’s driving her, I have to stop them before they get to Logan Pond. I don’t know how much time I have, so you have to make a run for it. You’ll have to walk to Naperville on your own. Turn around.”
Greg stared at him for one heartbeat.
Then his pulse leaped.
“What excuse will you give Ashlee?” he asked, offering his bound hands.
Oliver unlocked his handcuffs. “I don’t know.”
Greg rubbed his wrists. The skin was raw, but he barely noticed. “Tell Ashlee that my mom can’t walk upstairs. Her bedroom’s upstairs, so you need to carry her. Whatever you say, make sure Ashlee doesn’t tell Jamansky.”
“I know, I know, I know. I have to go if I’m going to catch them. If Jamansky spots any of us—including you—we’re all dead.”
“Don’t worry. I can disappear,” Greg said.
Oliver pointed down the road. “Head south for a long time, find the expressway, and go east.”
Not the greatest directions now that Greg didn’t have a map to Naperville, but he didn’t care.
“I owe you big time,” Greg said.
“Then I expect you to pay up. Which reminds me,” Oliver said urgently. “The rebellion’s motto is Live Free or Die, but the dead can’t help the living, so don’t be stupid. No getting yourself killed, Greg. Everyone here is counting on you coming back, especially your mom and Carrie. For once in your life, shut your mouth and play by the rules so you can make it back here alive.”
“Deal.” Greg reached out and shook Oliver’s hand. “Same goes for you.”
Oliver nodded. “See you soon.”
“Let’s hope.”
Then Greg took off running, feet slamming against the pavement. He heard Oliver get in his car and peel away.
Just like that, Greg willingly sprinted away from Shelton, his mom, Carrie, and six years of freedom. By force, he had to trust the fate of everybody and everything he loved into the hands of somebody else.
All so he could become the next David Jamansky.
twenty
OLIVER SPED DOWN THE residential roads. He hit the brakes before Union Street and peered down toward the patrol station. Jamansky’s car was gone, which meant that Ashlee had coerced Mariah to go with her. Oliver pressed the gas to the floor, flying past the old vintage homes.
How far had they gone? Would Mariah convince Ashlee to drop her off early? What if Mariah fainted, and Ashlee decided to do the kind, citizenly thing by driving her all the way home?
Oliver had to find them.
At each side street, he checked through for Jamansky’s car. He pushed 60mph in what used to be a 25mph area. When he ran out of side streets, he sped back to the main road. By then, he was out of the main part of town, dangerously close to the neighborhoods on the northern outskirts.
Then he spotted it, a green patrol car up ahead with “CHIEF” printed on the back. Flooring it, Oliver flipped on his lights without his siren. It only took a moment for Ashlee to notice and pull over.
Jumping out, Oliver ran up to her car.
“Officer Simmons?” Ashlee said, rolling down her window with wide, terrified eyes. “What are you doing? I thought you were driving Greg to Naperville.”
“Change of plans.” Leaning down, he checked on Mariah in the passenger seat. Her hand was over her chest, and her face was clenched in great pain.
“Where…?” Mariah wheezed loudly. “Where’s Greg?”
“Your son is walking to Naperville, Mrs. O’Brien. He’ll be fine.”
Somewhat relieved, Mariah lay back against the seat, but Ashlee nearly jumped out of her skin.
“What?” Ashlee said. “Why?”
Oliver wanted to explain, but Mariah looked like death, and he still had a part to play. As a dutiful officer, he wasn’t supposed to know Greg or his mom any more than he knew the average citizen.
“Mr. Pierce was gravely concerned about his mother,” he said. “He’s worried that, even if she makes it home, she won’t make it upstairs to her room. She needs to be carried, and he didn’t think you could handle that, Ashlee.” The whole thing sounded like the weak lie it was, but he went on. “So I dropped him off on the outskirts of town and came to find you. Do you think I did the right thing?”
Without a single hesitation, Ashlee nodded. “Yes. Mrs. O’Brien isn’t doing well. She kept insisting she could make it home on her own, but I’m scared she broke something when she fell. A hip or leg. I don’t kn
ow, but she can’t stand up. Portman and Bushing had to carry her to the car.”
He took in Mariah’s appearance. Her skin was not only deathly white, but moist and clammy. Her breaths were loud and labored, and something was off with her eyes, like she was seeing, but not clearly.
A chill ran through him.
“I’ll take it from here.” Running around, he opened Mariah’s door.
Taking her trembling hands, he helped her stand up. With a cry of pain, her legs buckled. He caught her by the waist and did his best to carry the bulk of her weight, but every step caused her greater agony. Ashlee hopped out and grabbed her other arm.
Oliver cursed himself for not pulling up right alongside Jamansky’s car. His car was only twenty feet back, but it felt like forever.
“Where are you hurt, Mrs. O’Brien?” he said, no longer caring what Ashlee heard or how familiar it might sound.
“My—Ah!” Mariah gasped with another step. “My hip.”
Oliver worried about holding her so firmly around the waist, but he didn’t know how else to help her.
Ashlee opened his passenger door, and he eased Mariah inside. She was a crying, wheezing heap by the time he got the door shut. Ashlee looked up at Oliver, tears smearing her mascara.
“How are you going to get her inside her house?” Ashlee asked.
“No idea,” he said honestly.
“I can follow you there if you want,” Ashlee said. “I can’t help much, but I can help some.”
Which was a sweet offer if there wasn’t an illegal clan waiting for them. Thinking fast, he said, “Her husband will help me.”
“Maybe you should take her directly to the hospital,” Ashlee said. “Something is seriously wrong with her.”
Not a horrible idea. Mariah had her yellow card now, and she needed more help than she’d get in the clan.
“Good idea,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Man, I’m shaking like crazy,” Ashlee said, clasping her hands. “Thank you for coming back, Officer Simmons. I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Thank you for stepping in to help back there. I don’t think she would have made it home, but I know…” He wasn’t sure how to say it without making them both uncomfortable, but he wanted to say it anyway. “I know it was a sacrifice.”
“David’s a jerk,” Ashlee whispered. More tears leaked down her cheeks.
Oliver nodded, feeling sorry for her. No one should be stuck with David Jamansky, let alone for a second time. Pretty selfless for a woman he had pegged as self-absorbed.
She wiped the mascara from her eyes. “Oh well. We would have ended up back together eventually. We usually do.”
True. As dysfunctional a relationship as Oliver had ever seen.
“What should I do now?” Ashlee asked. “David won’t be expecting me back yet. And what about you? You’re supposed to be driving Greg to Naperville, but if you take Mrs. O’Brien to the hospital, it will take much longer.”
“Just kill some time,” Oliver said. “I’ll figure things out on my end. Thanks again.”
He got in his car but didn’t immediately drive. Mariah’s eyes were closed, and her chest heaved with every breath, but the breaths were no longer dry and raspy. They sounded wet and bubbly, making his stomach churn. Blood was smeared across her chin.
Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him as if she wanted to say something, but it would hurt too much. In the end, she reached over and patted his arm.
“You’re welcome,” he said in understanding. Then he pulled onto the road.
“Mrs. O’Brien, do I have your permission to take you to the hospital? The nearest one is in Aurora and I could…”
He trailed off as she shook her head. Her eyes squeezed shut, but her head kept on shaking.
“Are you sure?” Every instinct, including the hairs prickling on the back of his neck, told him she was at death’s door. “The hospital will have pain medicine, and they can find out what happened when you fell. If you’re worried about money, I can…”
Tears poured down her face. Her wheezing picked up. It took great effort for her to form the words. “Home. I want…home.”
“Okay,” he said.
He wanted to speed, but the roads were horribly unkempt. Every pothole they hit caused her to cry out. So he drove carefully until they made it to the north entrance and Richard O’Brien’s house. Oliver started to pull into Richard’s driveway, but Mariah waved a hand.
“Not here?” he asked.
She pointed down the road. He had no idea where she wanted to go, so he drove slowly. Once he turned onto Denton Trail, he figured it out. She wanted to go to her parents’ house.
As he pulled into the Trenton’s driveway, Carrie came out of CJ’s garage, wiping her hands on her jeans.
“Hi, Oliver. I didn’t expect to see—” Carrie stopped short. “Mariah? What happened?” Frantic, she searched Oliver’s car. “Where’s Greg?”
Oliver jumped out. “Long story. Where’s Richard?”
“I have no idea. Probably back at his house. What happened?”
Richard was too far.
“Let’s get her inside first.”
Mariah could no longer bear any weight. Oliver tried to lift her legs out of the car, but even that much killed her. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she sobbed.
Oliver had heard enough.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. O’Brien,” he said. Then he bent down and scooped her up. She hardly weighed a thing, but she writhed and screamed, making it difficult to keep hold of her. “So sorry,” he said.
Through her jerky movements, she nodded. She knew he had to get her inside somehow.
“Help me find her a bed,” he said to Carrie. “Then I’ll explain everything.”
* * * * *
Carrie stared at Mariah’s sleeping form, grateful that Greg’s mom had finally slipped into a deep sleep. The small candle flickered in May and CJ’s bedroom, having burned most of the night. It was down to a stub, but Carrie was too exhausted to grab another.
Richard had taken the first shift with Mariah, and Carrie took the next. Now CJ and Richard slept on the living room couches while May slept next to her daughter on the king-sized bed. Carrie sat on a chair next to Mariah, too overwhelmed to do anything but stare.
Greg. Mariah.
The new patrol chief who nearly destroyed their lives.
With the house silent other than Mariah’s labored breaths, Carrie kept reliving the day, the month, the years. Too many deaths. Too many losses. Her emotions felt raw.
Mariah’s skin looked pasty white under the yellow hue of the candle, resembling Jenna Kovach’s before her death. As far as they could tell, Mariah had broken her hip in the fall, but they had no way of knowing for sure.
Through the pain, Mariah had struggled to keep her characteristic brave face. Anytime she wrenched back, May went into a tizzy. So Carrie finally urged May from the room, telling her they should find Mariah some food.
When they’d entered the kitchen, Carrie had been shocked to see Oliver still at the house. His visits usually only lasted a few minutes, and she’d been back in the bedroom with Mariah for some time. Yet Oliver crouched next to the fireplace, heating up water with CJ.
None of them spoke as they had worked, so Carrie heard it perfectly when the heart-wrenching sobs filled the back bedroom, like a wounded animal. It was as if Mariah could only put on a brave face for so long, for so many people. Being alone with Richard, she had finally allowed herself to fall apart. Greg had been stolen right in front of her. She was dying. Kendra was already dead. May and CJ would be alone again—as would Richard. Not to mention the physical agony of a body rejecting this life. The sounds of her sobs had cut Carrie to the core. Thankfully May was too deaf to hear. But CJ heard.
So had Oliver.
Standing, Oliver had nervously brushed off his hands and said he needed to get back to the station. Carrie had excused herself and followed him outside. By his car, she
tried to thank him for all he’d done, but he insisted he should have done more.
A small moan escaped Mariah’s lips, bringing Carrie back to the candlelit room. She dipped a cloth in a bowl of cool water and sponged off Mariah’s damp brow.
The door creaked behind her, and Richard tiptoed in. His graying hair was disheveled and wisping out of its ponytail. His eyes were red with sleep and tears.
“Has she woken again?” Richard whispered.
“No,” Carrie said. “I think she finally settled down.”
Nodding, he sat at the foot of the king-sized bed and rubbed his wife’s legs through the blankets.
“Goodness,” he breathed. “What a day.”
Carrie agreed, feeling weary to the bone.
They sat in silence for some time, each lost in thought.
Richard looked at her. “I can’t tell you how pleased Mariah was that Greg finally kissed you. It actually brought a smile to her amidst the pain. She has such hopes for you two.”
Heat flooded Carrie’s cheeks.
“Greg didn’t kiss me,” she said softly. “Not really. He wouldn’t have even if he wanted to.” And how did Mariah even know about that moment anyway? It was the third time she’d expected it, felt her heart flutter in anticipation, and then drop when it didn’t happen. A kiss on the forehead, as sweet as it had been, just wasn’t the same. If things hadn’t escalated in town, Greg would have met her out by the pond at dusk. They would have walked and talked for who knew how long. Maybe then?
Richard frowned. “What do you mean, he wouldn’t have even if he wanted to?”
“Oliver.”
“Ah. So my stepson hasn’t given up that obsession?”
“Nope. Still going strong.” With no end in sight. She dipped the cloth in the water and rung it out. Then she laid the cool rag across Mariah’s feverish forehead.
“Well, love wouldn’t be any fun if it came easily,” Richard said.
Carrie smiled sadly. “It came easy enough for you and Mariah.”
“I know. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
A laugh escaped her. She couldn’t help it. The late hour—or early hour, rather—along with everything else was causing wild fluctuations in her emotions. May stirred at the outburst but rolled onto her side and fell back asleep. Mariah didn’t budge. It seemed wrong to joke about anything right now, but Carrie appreciated Richard’s attempt at a distraction.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 56
