A Deeper Darkness (31 page)

“It's getting much worse.” She could hear a strange tone in Simon's voice. Her husband was a scientist, a rational man. Nothing rattled him. Even the miscarriage she'd suffered several months earlier didn't shake him. His ability to move on had actually caused major friction between them—she thought they might split up over it. He wanted her to move on and try for another baby. She couldn't face it again so soon. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to face the idea of getting pregnant again.

Eventually they found a happy medium—not talking about it. It had saved their marriage, at least temporarily.

“Simon, hold on, just one second.”

She made the final slice and laid bare the culprit, a large piece of calcified plaque that had caused the aortic rupture. Now she could stop for a moment.

She slipped off her gloves and went to the phone.

“Sorry about that. I was right in the middle of something. How bad is it getting?”

“They're doing water rescues in River Plantation.”

That caught her attention.

“Seriously? That close to us? The Harpeth is up that far?”

“Yeah, it is. We're getting water in the basement already. I don't want to be an alarmist, but I think I should get out of here.”

“And leave the house?”

“Sam, there's three inches of water in the basement. I don't have sandbags or anything to keep it at bay. And if the river gets any higher—you should see this. It's unreal. Wait, I'm going to send you a picture.”

She grabbed her cell from her back pocket. A few seconds later it vibrated.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. They lived on a tributary of the Harpeth, but up on a hill. There had never been any concern about flooding. But the water was in their front yard.

“That's got to be, what, thirty feet above flood stage?”

“Thirty-four right now. But we just lost electricity. I can't stay here with the twins like this. What if it gets higher? Sam, I'm getting Maddy and Matthew out of here, right now.”

“Where are you going to go? The base of the driveway is underwater.”

“Which is why I have to go now, while I can still get out. Jesus, the furniture, all the stuff.”

She heard real fear in his voice, and that in turn scared her.

“Don't worry about any of that. Chances are it won't be that bad. Just grab my laptop, but that's it, Simon. Go on. Get out of there.”

“Okay. Listen, I'll call you when I get to high ground. I'll go to Taylor and Baldwin's place. There's no chance of the water getting that high, their neighborhood is up on that huge ridge. You stay there, you're completely out of harm's way. Love you, Sammy.”

“Love you, too, honey. Be careful, and call me the second you stop. You want me to call Taylor and let her know you're coming?”

“I'm sure she's mobilized, Metro called everyone in. Activated the emergency plan. I have the key, anyway. They won't care if a few drowned rats show up on their doorstep. They're only ten minutes from here. I'm gone, sweetie.”

“All right. Call me as soon as you get there.”

“Will do.”

Simon hung up. Sam turned to Stuart, who'd caught enough of the conversation to look incredibly alarmed. He'd gone white.

“My mother lives in River Plantation. I just tried calling her, I can't reach her.”

“Go turn on the television in my office. It's going to be okay.”

Sam felt the oddest sense of dislocation. Suddenly the aortic rupture on the table didn't seem terribly important. But she couldn't leave him open.

She regloved and started working swiftly. She had cause of death, the rest was perfunctory at this point.

Stuart came back. “Sam, it's awful. They've got bodies. We're going to be getting fatalities coming in.”

She adopted her calmest voice, though she was suddenly feeling panicked. “Okay, Stu. It's all right. Get Taylor on the phone for me. We'll have her check on your mom.”

It took Stuart five long minutes to get Taylor Jackson, just enough time for Sam to finish up with her guest and get things put back together. She'd have to notate the disruption in protocol, but the man was ninety-four, she hardly thought the family would be searching for more answers. She wasn't one for cutting corners, but she felt something in the air, a strange sense that this needn't be her priority at the moment.

“I've got her,” Stuart shouted, and Sam repeated the earlier movements, taking off her gloves and going to the morgue phone. She left it on speaker. Homicide Lieutenant Taylor Jackson's voice came strong through the air.

“Sam. What's up? I'm slammed. The whole city is going to be underwater by evening. The businesses along the Cumberland are already taking on water and you should see it out here in Bellevue.”

“God. Sorry, but Simon called, and we're getting water in our house, too. He's taking the twins to your place. I've been here at the morgue all morning, but he just told me about the water rescues in Bellevue. How bad is it?”

“It's bad, Sam. I've never seen anything like this. Call Simon back and tell him to stay put. The Harpeth's rising too quick, he'll never make it. He's better off going to the second story of the house and waiting it out. I'll make sure the rescue units know that the water's already up to your area. They'll send someone to the house.”

Sam felt a horrid sense of foreboding come over her. “Taylor. He left more than five minutes ago.”

“Oh, shit. Okay, call him. Call him right now.”

Sam already had her cell out and was dialing. Simon's phone rang and rang, then went to voice mail. She tried again. Same result.

“He's not answering, Taylor.” Her voice had gone up an octave. She could hear Taylor barking commands in the background.

“Okay, honey. Relax. Cell service is spotty at best. The power lines are down in Bellevue, and so are the phones. The cell towers might be affected, as well. We'll send someone his way. He's probably already at my house.”

“But you said…”

“I'm sure I was wrong.”

Taylor wasn't wrong. Fire and Rescue found Simon's waterlogged car two hours later, wedged up against the concrete abutment by the Publix. The windows were down.

The car was empty.

Nashville, Tennessee
Dr. Samantha Owens
Current day

Sam stood at the base of her driveway. The red-and-white For Sale sign had a new addition that read Under Contract. The rooms were empty; the moving company van had just pulled away. She watched the truck turn the corner, and looked back to the house.

So many memories. Good. Bad. Sublime. Surreal.

It was time to say goodbye.

This was easier than she expected. She'd lived in Nashville her entire life, except for the years in D.C. while attending medical school. She'd lived there, loved there, married there, given birth there.

Stood vigil over the ashes of her family, her life, there.

Leaving wasn't something she ever thought of doing.

But with the loss of her family came a fracture from her city, one so deep that she didn't know if she could ever recover. She would visit. She would come back on holidays. But she could never live here again.

Her BMW was packed full of precious items she hadn't wanted to entrust to the movers. Most especially, the black marble urn that held the remains of her family.

Simon's will had stipulated that he be cremated. Hers did, as well.

But the twins. She couldn't bear to put them in the ground. For them to be alone.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

It had been the kind man at the crematorium who'd made the suggestion.

You can't tell anyone we did this, but we can bury them all together, if that's what you want. They're small enough… .

Small enough, the two of them, to fit inside the thin cardboard coffin of their father. To be reduced to ash along with him, forever mingled, forever together.

It was illegal, but they'd done it, anyway. And deposited all three into the urn, sealed, like her heart, until she chose to open it and scatter their remains to the winds.

Simon wanted to be thrown into the air off the top of a mountain. Sam now had that place picked out.

A strong arm went around her waist. Bolstering her, just when she needed it. He knew. He always knew.

“Sam, are you sure? There's no going back now.”

No going back. How true the statement was. You don't get do-overs in this life. She knew that better than anyone.

She turned to face Xander, the sun in her life. He'd grown in his beard, let his hair go a bit. He looked wild, untamed. His dark eyes met hers, and her heart constricted.

She touched him on the cheek and smiled softly.

“I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Let's go home.”

They got into her car, Xander driving. He pulled away from the curb slowly, so she could watch the house fade away in the distance if she wanted to.

She didn't. She shut her eyes, and thought of the clean, cool air that awaited her. The green trees. The clear blue streams. The arms of the man she loved.

She had finally found her peace.

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

My village. I couldn't do this without them. Thanks to:

My dear agent, Scott Miller, who really believed in this project from the get-go, and helped me believe in it, as well.

Alex Slater, who
handles
me.

My editor, Adam Wilson, who helped this story along so much.

The MIRA/Harlequin team, who do an amazing job top to bottom with my books, and everyone who has spent time making
A Deeper Darkness
a reality, especially Margaret Marbury, Valerie Gray, Miranda Indrigo and my awesome publicist, Tiffany Shiu.

The fine folks at Brilliance Audio, especially Sheryl Zajechowsk, Natalie Fedewa and the amazing Joyce Bean.

My tribe: Laura Benedict, Jeff Abbott, Erica Spindler, Allison Brennan, Toni McGee Causey, Alex Kava, Jeanne Veillette Bowerman, Jill Thompson, Del Tinsley, Paige Crutcher, Cecelia Tichi, Alethea Kontis, Jason Pinter and Andy Levy.

Joan Huston found all my mistakes, as always.

Special thanks to my research brethren who spot-read this one: Sherrie Saint, Dr. Sandra Thomas, David Achord and Andy Levy. Kelly Kennedy's
They Died for Each Other: The Triumph and Tragedy of the Hardest Hit Unit in Iraq
gave me insights into the war-time soldier's mind, and Craig Mullaney's
The Unforgiving Minute: A Soldier's Education
taught me what being a Ranger is all about.

The underlying story in this novel, the friendly-fire killing of Perry Fisher, was inspired by a real-life incident. My favorite teacher in high school, Dave Sharrett, who is, oddly enough, also a third cousin, sent his wonderful son, David H. Sharrett II, a boy we all knew as Bean, off to war in Iraq. He was killed by friendly fire, and the Army initially covered up the details. With the help of one of my former classmates, James Meek, Dave and Vicki Sharrett exposed the whole story, and found justice for Bean.

The grief we all feel cannot compare to their loss, but I hope that in some small way this book might help. God bless all of our soldiers. Their bravery and selflessness overwhelms me.

Finally, I must say thank you to my wonderful family. My long-suffering and lovely parents talked me through this one, and my divine husband, Randy, put up with so, so much. Without you, I would be lost.

ISBN: 9781459226968

Copyright © 2012 by J.T. Ellison

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