Читать книгу Under Suspicion - Hannah Alexander - Страница 10

Karah Lee Fletcher sat in front of the picture window in her lakeside cottage on the edge of Hideaway. She tried hard not to be distracted by the magnificent purples and deep indigoes of the evening sky at late sunset. There was work to be done.

This evening, it was her job to look fascinated by the display of material samples spread out before her on the coffee table. Bored already, she tapped her foot in time with the music her foster daughter had playing on the CD.

“I’m not wearing pink.” Fawn held up a swatch of hot pink satin. “Unless it’s this.”

Karah Lee tore her gaze from the window scene and studied the brilliant, shimmery material. “Looks good to me.”

Fawn rolled her eyes. “Do you realize how badly this color would clash with that red hair of yours?”

“So? You’d be the one wearing it, not me.”

“But you’ll be the bride. Everything should focus on you on your wedding day. You’re one of those people who should never be allowed out on the street before they check in with the fashion police.”

“And you, of course, would be my own personal fashion police, I suppose.”

“Well, sure, you can do that now, but what are you going to do when I’m in college this fall?” Fawn combed her fingers through her short blond hair, eyeing Karah Lee with a devious grin.

“I guess I’ll just have to live in my scrubs. You’ll be home in the evenings, so you can prevent disaster.”

“Only if you can get me a car before I start school. I can’t exactly walk there from here.”

“You can use my car or ride with Blaze.” Since Karah Lee merely had to walk across the street and up two blocks for work and groceries, she seldom needed to drive these days.

Fawn grumbled, but she did so with good nature. By the time she started college, Karah Lee and Taylor would be married. Fawn had made it clear that the wedding was going to be her priority from now until the final vows were spoken. Thanks to Fawn, heaven and everyone in Hideaway knew Karah Lee wasn’t capable of planning and executing a wedding of the caliber everyone expected without a great deal of help from friends.

Karah Lee was not a style maven, nor did she wish to become one at this stage of her life. At thirty-four, she was set in her ways and happy with that.

Fawn’s entry into her life still filled her with awe and gratitude. As a sixteen-year-old runaway last year, Fawn had witnessed a murder in Branson—one of the last places on earth one would expect a murder. When she had arrived here in Hideaway—a stow-away on a tour bus filled with senior citizens—she’d been sick, in the middle of a miscarriage.

Karah Lee had become her guardian with a great deal of trepidation, after discovering that the teenager’s home life was unbearable. Her mother didn’t want her back.

What a blessing Fawn Morrison had been in Karah Lee’s life since then.

The telephone rang before Fawn could launch into a long-winded explanation about why she needed her own car, and her plan about how to pay for it while working at the school for her tuition.

Karah Lee answered quickly. “This is Dr. Fletcher.”

“Karah Lee?” came a familiar male voice. It was her brother-in-law.

“Geoff?”

“I take it Shona hasn’t called you.”

At the sound of urgency in Geoff’s voice, and the mention of her sister’s name, Karah Lee braced herself. Typically, when a phone call concerned her family, things got tense in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Your father is being taken to the hospital at this moment.”

“What happened? Where’s Shona?”

“She’s on her way there, as well. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him yet. Earlier, it was suggested he might have been shot.”

Karah Lee’s grip tightened on the receiver. “Shot? Like, with a gun?”

Fawn looked up, then got up from the table and walked to Karah Lee’s side. “What is it?” she whispered.

Karah Lee placed a hand on her arm, more for strength than to silence her.

“I’m sorry,” Geoff said. “I don’t know more than that. As I said, Shona is on her way to the hospital. She isn’t doing well. You know she doesn’t get rattled easily.” There was a pause. “She isn’t sure Kemper’s going to make it.”

Karah Lee caught her breath. Shona thought Dad’s life was in danger?

“Karah Lee, is there any way you could—”

“I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“It’s a little after seven now.” There was a pause. “You might want to be prepared for the worst.”

At that moment, Karah Lee realized that she never would be.

Shona rushed to the ER reception desk, breathless from her run from the parking lot. “I need to see my father, Kemper MacDonald. He was just brought in by ambulance.”

“Oh, ma’am, I’m sorry,” the secretary said gently. “Your father is in critical condition in the trauma room. They’re doing everything they—”

Shona saw the door to the ER swing open as someone stepped out. She rushed forward and grabbed it before it could close and lock her out.

An older nurse looked up from her work at the busy central desk and intercepted Shona. “May I help you?”

“I need to find the trauma—” Shona spotted a room where several medical personnel were gathered and headed in that direction.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, rushing forward to catch her by the arm. “You can’t go in there right now. We’ll call a chaplain and show you to the family waiting room.”

“Kemper MacDonald is my father. My name is Shona Tremaine.”

“I know who you are, ma’am. I’ve seen you on the news.”

Shona tried to pull free, but found the woman surprisingly strong. “Please, I need to get to him.”

“Not right now, you don’t,” the nurse assured her gently. “They’re attempting to resuscitate him.”

Shona gasped. The room threatened to fade around her. “Resuscitate! He’s dead?”

“I assure you, they’re doing everything they can. He’s unresponsive right now. We’ll do our best to keep you updated.”

“Please.” Shona took a deep breath to steady herself. “I need to be there. The doctor may have questions only I can answer. I live with my father, and I know more about him than anyone. I promise not to get in the way.”

The woman’s grip eased slightly, the lines around her brown eyes deepening as she focused on Shona, as if to measure her words. “It isn’t a pretty sight.”

“I’m the one who found him. I don’t expect it to be pleasant.”

The nurse nodded and released Shona’s arm, though with obvious reluctance. “You can stand by the window over there, but don’t get in the doorway. There’ll be people coming in and out.”

“The press may come looking for me here. Would you please not give out any information about my father?”

“It’s against federal regulations to do so, Mrs. Tremaine. Anyone who does will be fired.”

Shona nodded. “Thank you. My…husband may show up looking for me. His name is—”

“Geoff Tremaine? He won’t be hard to recognize. Do you want us to let him know where you are?”

She wanted her husband, Geoff, not the reporter. She sighed. “If he does show up, it’s okay, but no camera team, and no one except Geoff.”

“We wouldn’t do it any other way.”

Shona thanked her. She knew her switch wouldn’t deter him for long. He would figure out soon enough where she had taken Dad.

Steeling herself for what she might see, Shona rushed to the trauma room and tried to peer in the glass windows through small gaps between the slats in a blind.

She could see little except medical equipment, a monitor and people in multicolored scrubs and masks standing around the trauma bed. She strained to hear anything encouraging through the verbal cacophony that filtered through the door.

“Central line is in. Stop CPR. What’s the rhythm?”

“Still PEA.”

Shona caught her breath. She’d learned enough from her sister to know that meant pulseless electrical activity.

Very bad.

“Continue CPR.”

“Got it.”

“We need to push some volume back into his circulation. Get that O negative blood in now. How much longer on those four units of fresh frozen plasma?”

“Lab said just a few more minutes. They have to thaw them first.”

“Where’s the 20 milligrams of vitamin K? I wanted it stat.”

“Right here, Dr. Morris.”

“Give it IV push.”

“But doctor, what about the risk—”

“I’m not worried about the risk of anaphylactic shock at this point, Carrie.” There was tension in the doctor’s voice. “He’s bleeding to death, and we don’t know what’s causing it. He needs it IV. Now. And someone see if there’s a family member here who knows what’s going on.”

Shona caught her breath. “I’m his daughter!” she called, stepping to the door. She gasped, suddenly overwhelmed by what she saw.

Blood. There was blood everywhere, on the bed, on Dad’s body, on the hands of the staff, on the instruments they were using on Dad’s hideously battered flesh.

Without warning, a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She turned away, doubling over, fighting to keep her gorge down.

Someone caught her from behind and placed a basin in front of her just in time.

“That’s why we don’t like people coming back at times like this,” came the gentle-sad voice of the older nurse as Shona gave up all pretense of dignity.

Past humiliation, Shona retched, miserable and terrified. No one could bleed as much as Dad was doing and live. She was losing him.

Geoff raced into the parking lot of the ER at Bradley-Cline Hospital and pulled into a nearby slot, scanning the area for Shona’s Escalade or Kemper’s Seville, which she often drove. He recognized none of the vehicles.

He frowned at the ambulance bay. There was no way he could have beat the ambulance here, but he couldn’t have been so far behind them that the ambulance was already gone, could he?

It was possible, if they had another hot call.

Still…something didn’t feel right. Shona’s car should be here. She had been following the ambulance when he spoke to her; he’d heard the siren over the line.

She might have parked elsewhere in an effort to avoid notice, as much as possible. Her car and Kemper’s had government plates.

While waiting for the camera crew, Geoff parked and went inside to check with the receptionist.

“I’m sorry,” she said when he asked about Kemper’s arrival. “We’re unaware of anyone here by that name.”

He didn’t argue, but returned to his car, backed out of the slot and cruised slowly around the parking lot. He saw nothing familiar. He dialed Shona’s number again, but she didn’t answer. He did recognize a film crew from Channel 32, and a newspaper reporter for the Jefferson City Herald. He was sure more reporters would be arriving soon.

His own camera crew had not yet made it here, and he had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn’t have anything to film once they arrived. He knew Shona too well. She didn’t want a media circus tonight.

Typically, she was gracious and outgoing to all members of the media, as was her father. This was different. He couldn’t blame her for wanting her privacy during this crisis.

Instead of calling Wendy, which he knew would be expected of him with this switch, he pulled from the parking lot and turned left, in the direction of St. Mary’s. Traditionally, Shona’s family had always used that hospital. He would follow his hunch without alerting others.