Читать книгу Shadow Lake - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 11

OFFICER D.C. WALKER didn’t have time to see his life flash before him as the wrecker’s cable shot upward directly at him.

The cable passed so close he felt the hair rise on his forearms. The steel wrapped around one of the trees behind him, snapping off leaves and limbs like the hurtin’ end of a whip, then made a loud popping sound right next to him as the end smacked the hood of the wrecker, leaving one hell of a dent before dropping to the ground as harmless as a dead snake.

Down the mountainside the Cadillac, dragging a piece of frayed broken steel cable, slid back into the lake.

Walker let out a curse as he watched the car disappear below the surface again.

When Mac, the wrecker operator, quit swearing and crossing himself, he gave Walker the bad news. Another wrecker, a newer larger one with a longer cable, would have to be called in. It might have to come from as far away as Seattle, though. That was if Mac could find a towing service that could spare a rig that size.

But one thing was for certain. The car wasn’t coming out of the water today. It was too late in the day now to get another wrecker here even if one could be found within a hundred miles.

Walker swore. “Do the best you can and let me know when you find one.” He turned, still shaken as he climbed into his patrol car and headed for the hospital. He was on his own with the chief gone. It was time he had a talk with Doc Brubaker’s patient.

POLICE CHIEF ROB NASH WOKE to darkness. He stumbled out of bed and into the ratty motel bathroom. His head hurt like hell and his stomach rumbled, the taste of alcohol in his mouth rank enough to make him want to vomit.

He glanced at his watch, shocked to see that he’d lost the entire day. Lucinda was expecting him home tonight. He swore as he turned on the shower, stripped down and stepped under the stinging water.

Lucinda. He tried to force away any thought of her. He’d never known this kind of pain, let alone such fury. It left him light-headed, sent his blood pressure soaring and made him feel as if he was shaking from the inside out. The sensation had him wondering if he wouldn’t come apart at the seams. Worse, made him fear he would follow through with his first instinct and kill Lucinda.

It was why he’d called Walker and told him he was taking a few days off. He wasn’t firing on all four cylinders and he knew it. A dangerous place, given his feeling.

But Lucinda and what he’d seen last night was like a tooth-ache that wouldn’t let him forget it. Eventually he would have to deal with it.

He’d set his wife up.

And she’d taken the bait.

That’s what a man his age got for marrying a woman too young and pretty for him, he thought as he stepped from the shower.

Just the thought of facing Lucinda with what he knew made him break into a cold sweat. He clenched his fist, slamming it into the mirror. Glass shards and blood went everywhere.

He wrapped his hand in a towel. There were only a few small cuts. He wouldn’t bleed to death.

He stared at his reflection in what was left of the mirror. Hair graying, shoulders slumped, gait shuffling and unsure. Hell, he looked just like his old man right before the poor son of a bitch blew his brains out.

ANNA DIDN’T REMEMBER DROPPING off to sleep after her call to Mary Ellen. She’d been upset and had gotten off the line, promising to call back.

Now she shot straight up in bed and reached for the call button, fumbling with it, afraid she would lose the memory that she’d dragged to the surface. When the nurse named Connie had come hurrying in, Anna asked to see the doctor.

“I’ll call him,” she said. “Eat some of your dinner while you wait.” She sounded worried. “Doc won’t be long. He only lives a couple of blocks from here.”

Anna looked over at the tray next to her bed. Her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She vaguely recalled a breakfast and lunch tray, but didn’t remember touching either. She hadn’t been hungry for so long.

Now, though, she felt ravenous. She dug into the food, not tasting it, but knowing she needed the nourishment. She knew that after Tyler’s death, she’d lost her will to live. There didn’t seem to be any reason to get out of bed in the mornings. No wonder Marc had felt so abandoned. No wonder he’d wanted a divorce.

Her need to remember what had happened last night was driving her not to fall back into that dark depression. Last night was like a puzzle that she needed to solve. That she could solve. Not like the alleged hit-and-run that had taken her son. The pieces to that puzzle had been lost forever.

But this accident she might be able to unravel, and she still felt as if she desperately needed to.

She was anxious to tell the doctor what she remembered. Unlike Officer Walker, the doctor seemed to believe her and want to help her remember. She didn’t need any more mysteries in her life. Any more secrets.

Her dinner was lukewarm, but she ate the roast beef and mashed potatoes and canned corn as if it was a gourmet meal from her favorite four-star restaurant. She’d downed the glass of milk after polishing off the apple crisp just before Dr. Brubaker stuck his rumpled gray head in her doorway.

She shoved the tray away. “I remember going into the lake,” she said excitedly. “I mean I remember being in the water. I remember almost everything.”

He smiled, seeming pleased as he pulled up a chair next to her bed and lowered himself into it. “That must be a huge relief to you.”

“I swerved to miss a deer and lost control of the car.” She could see it now, the darkness, the rain, the deer bolting out of the trees. Her heart began to pound as she saw the car skidding toward the small saplings in her memory, crashing down the mountainside, plunging into the lake.

Oh God, the lake. The water. She shuddered as she recalled the water.

“I couldn’t get the seat belt to release.” Suddenly her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t catch her breath, but she also couldn’t stop. She could feel the panic attack coming on. And then she felt his hand cover hers.

“You’re safe now. It’s all right. It can’t hurt you.”

She nodded and lay back against the pillows, tears of fear blurring her eyes. “I remember being underwater, thinking I was going to die.”

“Do you remember getting out of the car?” he asked.

“No.” She made a swipe at her tears with her free hand, not wanting to break contact with the warmth of his hand covering hers. Her mother had died when Anna was nine. Her father when she was seventeen. She’d been so disappointed that neither had lived to see their grandson born. Marc’s parents were both still alive but had no apparent interest in grandchildren.

“I was trapped in the car,” Anna said, refusing to let the memory slip away again. “I remember thinking I was going to drown. I had to breathe.” She stopped, her gaze locking with his. “I heard a sound at my side window.” A slice of pure ice cut through her, but she didn’t force the memory away. “There was someone in the water.”

“Someone else was in the lake?” the doctor asked. “Your son?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Tyler is…wasn’t there. The person in the water was a man. At least I think it was a man. His face…” Anna shuddered at the memory and heard a sound at her hospital-room door. She looked up with a start to find Officer Walker framed in the doorway.

The expression on his face was almost as terrifying as the memory of being under the water and seeing something—someone—floating on the other side of her window.

“You say there was someone else in the lake?” the cop asked as he stepped into the room, his brow furrowed. “Your memory coming back, Mrs. Collins?”

Was it her imagination, or did the doctor look alarmed by the policeman’s tone?

“I need to ask your patient a few more questions,” Officer Walker said, never taking his eyes off Anna. “You’re welcome to stay, Doc, if you feel it’s necessary.”

Dr. Brubaker looked from the cop to her. “Do you want me to stay?”

She nodded even though it hurt her head. She didn’t trust her voice.

“I talked to your husband,” Walker said.

“Marc?” She wasn’t sure why the thought of Marc talking to the officer upset her, but it did. “He knows I’m here?”

The cop frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Of course not. I just didn’t want him…worried.”

“Why would he be worried?” Walker asked.

She said nothing, feeling confused, head aching.

“You are still Mrs. Collins, aren’t you?”

Anna opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I didn’t know Marc hadn’t gone through with the divorce until I talked to a friend earlier. I had no idea.”

He studied her openly then asked, “You don’t remember your husband telling you last night?”

“No.” Her voice sounded small, scared.

“But you were just saying that your memory has come back,” he reminded her.

“Not all of it.” Her fingers went to her scar.

“Why don’t you tell the officer what you told me,” the doctor suggested.

She swallowed, her throat dry and scratchy. Her head ached and she felt tired again, her earlier excitement about getting back some of her memory replaced by fear.

She told Officer Walker about the deer, losing control of the car, going into the lake and seeing someone on the bottom.

The cop gave her an unbelieving look. “Your husband told me you were upset when you left home last night. Can you tell me what that was about?”

So she had seen Marc last night at the house? “No. That is, I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing my husband last night or what I might have been upset about.”

The cop’s look said he found that a little too convenient. “Your husband said you might have been upset because he told you he hadn’t gone through with the divorce.”

She frowned. “Why would I be upset about that?”

“Why don’t you tell me,” he said.

She shot a look at the doctor. He looked worried as if he feared—as she did—that something had happened to make Officer Walker more suspicious of her. She knew she didn’t have to answer his questions, but she had nothing to hide. At least she hoped that was true. And at this point, Officer Walker seemed to know more than she did about what had happened last night.

“I was the one who didn’t want the divorce in the first place,” she said.

“You don’t recall seeing your husband at all last night?”

She shook her head slowly, a vague memory pulling at her. An ugly argument. But she’d had so many arguments with Marc… “I can’t be sure.”

Walker sighed and looked at the doctor.

She felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. She knew she should stop the police officer now, not answer any more of his questions. But she desperately wanted to know why he was asking them, why his manner was even more suspicious than it had been earlier. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Your husband said he not only saw you last night, but that the two of you argued. When you left, he said, you were threatening to kill someone.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “You don’t know Marc. He…” She thought of something Gillian had once said about Marc. He likes drama in his life. It’s his drug of choice. He gets high on it. And when he doesn’t have enough drama, he makes it. Or forces you to.

“Marc overreacts sometimes,” she said simply.

“Have you been under the care of a psychiatrist?”

“No, I mean, I was but I stopped going.”

“Mrs. Collins, did you purposely drive your car into the lake last night?”

“Of course not!”

“Were you even in the car when it went into the lake?” he asked, sounding aggravated with her.

She felt close to tears. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

“You tell me.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Maybe for the same reason you threatened to kill someone? To get your husband’s attention?”

She wanted to argue that even if she was stupid enough to pull a stunt like that, she no longer cared enough about Marc to even threaten to kill herself—let alone try. Nor did she believe Marc would care.

That thought rang so true she was momentarily stunned by it.

“If you’re telling the truth, Mrs. Collins, then you don’t remember what you did last night, isn’t that right?” the cop asked.

She blinked, focusing again on him and his question before she slowly nodded. She’d lost the hours before she’d swerved to miss the deer. Just as she’d lost the reason she was on that highway to begin with.

And the truth was, in the state she’d been in since coming out of the coma, she couldn’t swear to what she might have done. Maybe she had tried to kill herself last night. But she had to wonder what would have pushed her to that point.

“I suppose you also don’t remember being so upset that you forgot about getting a speeding ticket about thirty miles outside of Shadow Lake.”

She shook her head.

“Or telling Dr. Brubaker to look for your son?” The cop sounded angry.

“No.” A headache was building. “I told you. I was confused when I first woke up. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, Mrs. Collins, that your son Tyler is dead?” Walker snapped. “That he was killed eight months ago in a hit-and-run accident. The same one that left you in a coma.”