said. “They found her a few hours ago. Tina’s dead.”
TWO
Nolan Price would rather be anywhere than outside Mercy MedClinic’s emergency room. Hand him a financial portfolio to study or a corporate merger to broker and he was home free. But tubes pumping blood and oxygen into dying patients gave him the creeps.
Maybe it was the memories. Eight months and the pain hadn’t gone away. He doubted it ever would.
He glanced at his watch—10:00 p.m. Over three hours since he’d pulled the woman from the creek. Surely medical science, even in this rural facility, could determine the extent of her injuries in that length of time.
Kate Murphy. He’d finally learned her name.
Nolan shook his head. Too much had happened in one afternoon. The phone call about Tina, and then her friend had almost died in his arms.
God had a strange sense of timing.
Of course, he’d found that out with his wife’s tragic death.
At least he still had Heather. Not that raising a fifteen-year-old single-handed was anything but tough. Every time he thought he was making headway, she retreated into her shell. He couldn’t relate to his daughter no matter how hard he tried. Or prayed.
Maybe they should have stayed in Los Angeles.
He sighed, then pulled his cell from his pocket, hit the home listing and listened as the phone rang and rang.
The answering machine clicked on. “I’m sorry we’re unable to take your call. Please leave a message….”
Why wouldn’t she answer?
“Heather, I know you’re there. Pick up the phone.”
No response.
“I’m not mad.” Anymore, he wanted to add.
If only Olivia were alive.
“Make sure the doors to the house are locked, and don’t open for anyone. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
Nolan snapped the phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket as the sheriff pushed through the emergency-room doors. Early forties, tall and lanky, Wayne Turner was a pack-a-day smoker with a habit of poking his nose into everyone else’s business.
“Doc said he’d be finished with her soon. Lady’s lucky. Tore one of her knee ligaments. That’s the extent of it ’cept for a few cuts and scrapes.”
Nolan nodded. No reason to encourage Turner. Tonight of all nights, he didn’t feel like making conversation.
“Must be quite a lady from what the EMTs said.” The sheriff stuck his chin in the air. “What’s your take?”
“Last I saw, she was bone cold and struggling to survive. We didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries.”
Turner shoved his hand in his pocket and rattled his change. “Lucky you found her. The way your house sits back from the road, no way you could have heard the crash. How’d you happen to be outside on a night like this?”
A vision flashed through Nolan’s head—Heather’s boyfriend running through the woods.
“I was on my way back from talking to Wade Green over at the funeral home about how to handle Tina’s arrangements,” Nolan said, purposely not mentioning the boy. “That’s when I saw the break in the bridge.”
Turner sniffed. “Sorry about your housekeeper. Guess we owe you. Would have been two dead-on-arrivals if you hadn’t happened by in the nick of time.”
Nolan leaned against the cold tile wall. He hadn’t thought of saving anyone when he’d raced after the boy. Then he’d seen the car, realized someone was trapped inside. Thankfully, he’d had his cell phone and the EMTs had answered his call for help or Turner’s statement might have proven true.
The Good Lord supposedly didn’t give you more than you could handle. Heather was the problem. Tina had filled a portion of the void Olivia left. His daughter confided in the housekeeper, trusted her. Now that Tina was gone, Heather might withdraw even further from him.
“Shame that housekeeper of yours had a flat on Old Man Hawkins’ dirt road. Pretty isolated stretch. No one to help her.” Turner shook his head. “Allergic to latex. Who’d figure? Not the way I’d wanna die.”
Doc Samuels had filled Nolan in earlier. Changing the tire had brought Tina into contact with something that had triggered an anaphylactic reaction.
Ignoring the sheriff, Nolan turned to face the doc as he pushed open the ER doors.
Short, stocky, with a receding hairline and a small birthmark over his left brow, Mercy’s sole physician stuck out his hand. “Thanks for staying, Nolan.”
He returned the handshake. “Lloyd.”
“Good job with the accident victim. Few seconds longer and she’d be in the morgue instead of the treatment room. Keeping her warm did the trick.”
“Hypothermia’s easy enough to spot.”
“Yeah, but you reacted.” The doc pointed to the doors he had just stepped through. “That little lady owes you her life.”
Nolan shrugged off the praise. “Right time, right place.”
“She tore her ACL. Probably won’t need surgery, but her leg’s too swollen to be sure. She’ll need an MRI once the swelling subsides. Right now, I’ve got her in a knee immobilizer, but she has to stay off her feet for a few days. Problem is her insurance won’t cover keeping her here all night. Closest hotel’s in Summerton. Don’t know if driving over the mountain would be the safest bet.” He looked at the sheriff.
“Rain turned to sleet about an hour ago,” Turner said. “Highway patrol plans to close the pass to Summerton. The way the temperature’s dropping, we’ll be iced over for the rest of the night.”
“Would Edith mind if—”
Turner held up one hand, palm out. “Count me out, Doc. Edith’s spending the night with Ms. Agnes. That handicapped daughter of hers took a turn for the worse. Edith’s helping out.”
Nolan let out an exasperated breath. Last thing he wanted was a stranger underfoot, but the woman needed a place to stay.
“Kate Murphy knew Tina. Heather and I can put her up until the storm passes.”
“Appreciate it,” Lloyd said, slapping Nolan’s arm. “I gave her something for the pain. She’s a little groggy. Check on her occasionally in the night.”
The doc turned to the chief. “Ms. Murphy asked about her car.”
Turner whistled. “Boys are still trying to pull that sucker out of the water. Probably late morning before the roads improve so they can tow it over to Mercy Automotive. Mind if I get a little info from the patient, Doc?”
Lloyd
