him onto a backboard, and a cervical collar stabilized his head.
“Lindsey.” Jeff’s voice still sounded as if he’d swallowed a load of mulch. He tried to open his eyes, but the light burned them, making more pain spear into his skull. The odor of a strong antiseptic blended with the smell of gravel dust. Jeff fought the urge to sneeze.
Alan squeezed his arm. “I know. They found her. Ray’s with her now.”
“She all right?”
Alan hesitated, and Jeff’s gut knotted. He twisted, testing his muscles against the belts of the gurney as it rolled toward the ambulance. “Alan, I don’t need this. Let me up.”
The grizzled EMT made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl. He placed an arm over Jeff’s chest. “Boy, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. That car Lindsey was in crashed. She’s awake and headed for the hospital. So are you. You have a knot on the back of your head the size of a grapefruit. You’ve been hit with two full doses of a stun gun, so you got a nice burn on your chest and one on your shoulder. Thrashing around on the ground scraped you up pretty good, and it looks like you took a shot to the ribs as well as to your skull. Maybe a couple of breaks. Maybe a concussion. We’ll let the docs sort it out. You ain’t going nowhere but the hospital, and your mother would kill me if I even let you try.”
Jeff stared up at Alan, his words like acid in his throat. “I should have protected her. I failed her.” He grimaced. “They’re coming after us again.”
* * *
“Hold still, Lindsey. I’m going to cut the ties.”
Behind her back, there was a soft snip, and her hands fell free, releasing her shoulders and arms from their painful and stretched position. They couldn’t get her out of the mangled car, but she’d managed to twist so that Ray could cut the plastic ties. She sighed with relief. “How’s Jeff?”
Sheriff Ray Taylor’s mouth twitched, as if he were fighting his true thoughts. Instead, he cleared his throat, his baritone voice as gruff as his words. “He’s at the hospital. Which is where you’re going.” He snapped his pocketknife closed, then draped a heavy, protective blanket over Lindsey as, behind him, two rescue workers pushed their way through the brush and debris with the Jaws of Life.
Ray had not left her since he’d scrambled down to the car, shoving aside anything in his way. Still hyped on adrenaline and fear, she’d babbled out everything that had happened. He took in every word calmly. When she got to the part about the man with the flashlight, he’d turned and said something to an officer behind him, then faced her again.
For the first time, Lindsey saw Ray in action as a sheriff, not just as her brother-in-law. He insisted that she focus on him instead of the unconscious assailant still trapped in the car with her—to keep her awake and alert. Although Lindsey knew all the reasons her sister June had fallen for the easygoing sheriff, she now saw why Jeff admired his mentor and boss. She saw in Ray the same mannerisms that she’d noticed so often in Jeff.
Ray moved aside to allow the EMTs to reach her. One of the rescue workers peered in, evaluating the situation. “I’m going to cover you both. Then we’re going to cut into the roof as well as get this door open. It’s going to be really loud, and the whole car will vibrate. When we get access, everything will happen fast. We’ll grab him first, then you. You holler if any shifts cause your pain to get worse.”
Lindsey nodded, and he pulled the blanket over both of them, tucking it in tight. In the abrupt darkness, Lindsey let out another ragged sigh and closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks again, and she pushed away thoughts of how close the man who had tried to kidnap her was to her face, that he could wake up at any moment. Even with the workers outside and the sheriff close, Lindsey’s fear of the man hovered near. He’d acted and sounded so crazy!
Outside the car, a sputtering engine roared to full power, like a chain saw on steroids. The car rocked with the first effort, and Lindsey squeezed her eyes tighter as pain shot through her hips and back. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Again her mind snapped to her childhood and the abuse her father had inflicted.
The shriek of ripping metal helped Lindsey push the memory away, and she gritted her teeth against the sound. Then voices called, echoing around the ravine with a new fervor. Someone peeled the blanket away, and Lindsey blinked as light and cooler air flooded in. Two men reached in, gently easing her attacker onto a backboard. Over the cacophony of the rescue efforts, she heard the steady whup-whup of a helicopter.
“Lifeflight?” she asked one of the EMTs.
He nodded. “They’re taking him to Vanderbilt. You’ll probably go to NorthCrest, unless you’re hurt worse than we think.”
“Bruises, cuts, some pulled muscles. And I think I twisted my ankle when it hit the dash. Nothing major.”
Finalizing his work on the attacker, the EMT nodded at his coworkers and the backboard disappeared as it moved up the side of the ravine. He turned his attention to Lindsey. “You a nurse?”
“No. But I’ve been hurt bad before. I know how it feels.”
He reached in and slid a foam cervical collar around her neck. “How ’bout we let the docs decide?”
Lindsey took a deep breath. “Just didn’t want you fussing over me without reason.”
The EMT grinned at her. “My job. Now I’m going to see if I can slide this board between you and the seat. You ready?”
“My sisters will tell you I’m always ready for the next step.”
“I can believe that. Now, don’t move. Don’t try to help me. Let me do the work.”
Lindsey closed her eyes again, fighting the urge to claw her own way out of this stupid car.
No. Not just a car. A 1968 GTO. A bright orange 1968 GTO. The image of her father, his face battered and blotted, shot through her mind again, along with another shadowy figure. Entwined with them was the image of the orange GTO. Lindsey gasped. Why did that happen? What could her father have to do with the car? More importantly...
“Is she dead?”
What am I remembering? And why?
TWO
“Mild concussion. Ribs bruised but fortunately not broken. Cuts and abrasions, along with the burn, which—”
“In other words, I can get back to work. Now.” Jeff tugged his uniform shirt closed and buttoned it, trying to ignore the dirt smears and tiny tears from the gravel. He tucked it into his waistband, wincing at the soreness in his chest and muscles. The bandages they’d taped over his few injuries pulled against his skin as he tightened his belt.
Nick Collins, the emergency-room doctor who had treated more than his fair share of the sheriff’s officers, stopped typing on a mini-laptop and looked up at Jeff over the top of his reading glasses. “What’s got you in such a snit? You’re usually the calm one on Ray’s team.”
Standing behind Nick, Sheriff Ray Taylor spoke grimly. “He failed in his duty.”
Jeff scowled, feeling his face heat up, as Nick took off the black-framed glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his white coat. “Well,
