Blood Will Tell (12 page)

But Dan was already swimming steadily toward the beach. By the time they returned to their picnic spot, Brandy had cooled off enough to wonder why Dan was so reluctant to follow through on feelings she had no doubt matched hers.

A tragic love affair in his past? Someone he had loved had died, she was sure. Was it any wonder he was reluctant to get involved with a woman who lived in the line of fire?

They didn't stay in the sun for long. Brandy was ready to go home, hoping to continue in privacy what had started in the lake, but Dan said, “You brought me all the way out here. Let's see some of the natural beauty of the area."

So they pulled on their jeans and drove to one of the shady nature trails winding through the Land Between the Lakes. Then they walked, hand in hand after Dan turned to give Brandy unnecessary help over a steep rise and didn't let go.

Brown leaves were falling, but there were no bright colors because there had been no frost. Summer's greens had darkened, and the only spots of color were the yellow of daisies, dandelions, and goldenrod. Thank goodness neither of them suffered from hay fever.

The woods were full of the laughter of people taking advantage of these last warm days. A turn in the path took them into a secluded area, where Dan pulled Brandy to him for another kiss. When they broke apart, she said, “Come on—let's get back to town!"

With a crunching of leaves, a big young dog, trailing a leash, came barreling down the trail past them, barking joyfully. Both Brandy and Dan instinctively made a grab for the leash, but only managed to get in each other's way. The animal slipped between them and galloped on.

“That looks like—” Brandy began, when two children scrambled down the hill, calling, “Sandy! Here, boy!"

From behind them a woman's voice called, “Tiffany! Jeff! Watch where you're going!” Brandy's fellow detective and his family were also enjoying a day away from the city.

Brandy also called out, “Hey—Tiffany, Jeff, slow down! We'll help you catch Sandy!"

But the children paid no heed.

The light filtering through the trees turned yellow with hints of orange as the sun dropped toward the horizon.

“It'll be dark soon,” said Brandy. “Those are the Jones kids. Church and Coreen will be worried sick if they get lost."

“We've been circling,” said Dan. “The lodge is ahead of us now. The kids will get there before we do."

“A Boy Scout, too!"

“Actually, no. Like Captain Kirk, one thing I have never been is a Boy Scout."

“But you are a Trekkie."

“Do you know anyone involved with computers who isn't?"

Church and Coreen Jones came panting up the rise. “Brandy!” exclaimed Coreen. “Hon, have you seen our kids?"

“They're okay,” said Brandy. “This trail leads to the lodge."

“I'm gonna kill that damn dog!” Church said, although Brandy knew it was all bluster.

“He's just being a dog, Church,” Coreen soothed. “How often does he get to run like that?"

“I told the kids to hold on to him!” Brandy's colleague grumbled. “If he gets out on the highway—"

Shadows fell through the woods. The two couples moved after the children as quickly as possible, but the trail was steep, the path eroded by summer rains. They were picking their way across a dry streambed when there was the sharp yelping of a badly frightened dog in the distance.

“Oh, God!” said Coreen, “if Sandy's hit by a car—"

“They're not that far away,” said Dan.

His words were cut off by a child's scream, followed by, “Mamma! Daddy!” on a rising note of panic.

“Please, God, protect my babies!” Coreen gasped, and hastened her pace despite the rough terrain.

“We're coming!” Church shouted, scrambling up the bank.

The last orange rays of sunlight dappled the trail, making it hard to see their footing. They could hear the sobbing wail of a frightened child.

The trail made a sharp turn at the top of a steep hill. A rail fence protected hikers, but by the time Brandy and Dan got there Church and Coreen were looking down over the fence, Church obviously about to climb over it.

“What happened?” Brandy asked.

“It's Jeff!” Coreen gasped, pointing.

Both children were below their parents, on a rocky outcropping. Tiffany knelt, crying, beside her younger brother. Jeff lay frighteningly still.

It was easy to guess what had happened. Chasing their dog, the children had gone under the fence to a ledge immediately below. Pieces of hard Kentucky clay showed how the dry earth crumbled, toppling them onto the rocks below.

Tiffany, who showed only some scratches, looked up and sobbed, “I killed him! The monster jumped at me and I fell on Jeff and killed him!"

It was no monster, but a boulder their fall had dislodged, now lying a few feet away from the children. Had it hit Jeff, knocked him out?

For a moment, memories of her little brother lying dead in the street kept Brandy from moving.

Church skinned under the fence and lowered himself to the first ledge, keeping his feet against the wall of earth.

“Let me help,” said Dan, as Brandy came out of her trance and held Coreen back from climbing down after them.

“It seems steady,” Church said, reaching a hand up to Dan. “Try not to land on the edge."

“Coreen, stay here,” Brandy insisted. “I'll go down and help. You stop people coming by, see if anyone has a rope—and send someone to the lodge for help!"

“He's alive!” Church reported, and Brandy felt Coreen go limp with relief.

“Go ahead,” said Coreen.

Brandy slid down as Dan had, and wormed her way over the side to the outcropping. Tiffany was still sobbing, but Brandy soon saw that Jeff was breathing.

And, thank goodness, he was coming around. “Don't move,” his father warned him. “You'll be all right, Son. We'll get you out of here, okay?"

With relief Brandy saw Jeff's eyes focus on his father as he whispered, “Did you shoot the monster, Daddy?"

“He's awake!” Church reported to Coreen, then, “I'm here, Jeff. No monster can hurt you while Daddy's here."

Crunching leaves announced the return of Sandy, who sniffed at his fallen master and began to whimper.

At the sound of voices above, Brandy saw that Coreen had been joined by two girls in JPSU tee-shirts. “My son's been hurt,” she was telling them. “Please go to the lodge and get help. Tell them to bring emergency equipment."

“Right away!” said the girls, and ran on up the trail.

Brandy turned back to Jeff, who was trying to sit up. “Don't,” she said, remembering her first aid training. “Does your head hurt?"

“No,” he replied. “I'm okay,” and he tried to push her away, crying out sharply in surprise. “My leg!” he gasped.

He had been lying on his left side. Now, despite Church's efforts to hold him still, he turned so that his left leg came into view. It was jammed into a crack in the rock in a way that could only have happened if that boulder had struck it. With the dim light and the boy's dark skin, Brandy couldn't tell how badly the leg was injured.

“Lie still!” Brandy insisted, as Church wrapped his arms around the child. “Your leg may be broken, Jeff, but that's nothing to be afraid of. Don't move. Dan, take his shoe and sock off in case of swelling."

Coreen's face above was hard to see in the gathering twilight. Night was falling fast. How long would that rescue team take?

A man came along the trail, asking, “What's happened?"

“We've got a boy fallen from the ledge,” Brandy replied. “We've sent for help."

The man dug into his backpack, coming up with a flashlight. Dan scrambled up for it, saying, “Thank you! This will help."

He returned to them, shining the light on the injured boy. What it revealed was not reassuring: Jeff's leg was starting to swell, his ankle twisted at an impossible angle. Dan handed the light to Brandy, saying to the little girl, “Tiffany, why don't you let me lift you up to your Mamma?"

“Who're you?” Tiffany asked, staring doubtfully at Dan.

“He's a friend of Brandy's,” said her father. “Let him lift you up to Mamma, Honey."

Brandy started to help Dan, but he said, “I've got her,” and picked up the little girl with ease, lifting her over his head to her mother's eager arms. The dog, Sandy, scrambled up after her.

Jeff was starting to assimilate what had happened to him. Sweat broke out on his skin as fear took over. Brandy tried to reassure him, “You're going to be fine. The rescue team will lift you out, and then they'll take you to the hospital. The doctors will put your leg in a cast, and the kids at school will write and draw things on it. It's fun."

Church gave her a grateful smile and added his own reassurances, trying to keep the boy's mind off his fear, but the minutes dragged by and no rescue team appeared. Jeff gave a whimper. “It hurts,” he said.

The numbness was wearing off. It would only get worse now, until someone was able to sedate the boy. Jeff shivered, his skin clammy. “Dan,” Brandy whispered, not wanting Coreen to hear, “he's going into shock."

Dan knew at least enough first aid to strip off his shirt and put it over the boy. Church already had his head and shoulders in his lap, giving as much warmth as he could. Jeff started to cry, his dog prancing above them, yipping and whimpering in sympathy.

Brandy played the flashlight onto the boy's broken leg, and saw the swelling trapping it more firmly between the rocks and cutting off circulation. The foot was misshapen with swelling. They had made the wrong decision between un-wedging the leg earlier, when it would have been easier, and waiting for the rescue team. They should have taken the risk of compounding the fracture to free the leg.

The flashlight beam dimmed. The batteries wouldn't last much longer. “Church, Dan,” she said softly, “we've got to get his leg out of there before it swells any more."

The man who had provided the flashlight called, “Here's something that will help."

Dan scrambled up to take the object. “It sure will!” he said, bringing a rock-chipping tool into the light. “We'll get you out now, Jeff."

But the moment they started to work, Jeff screamed. “No! No! It hurts!” Then he lost coherence and merely shrieked. Nothing his father could do would comfort him, and Brandy felt the edge of terror in the other detective even as he tried to remain calm for his son's sake.

It was possible to die of the combination of shock and pain. They tried to soothe the boy, but he could not focus on anything except his agony.

When Jeff's shrieks died back to moans, Dan said, “Jeff, are you familiar with the Vulcan nerve pinch?"

The moaning paused fractionally, while the boy gave a suspicious, “Yeah."

Although he spoke to Jeff, Dan's eyes were fixed on Church's, pleading for understanding. “I'll use the nerve pinch to put you to sleep, so your leg won't hurt, okay?"

“Okay."

“Dan—” Brandy began in annoyance.

“Shhh! I have to concentrate. This isn't very easy for humans to do, you know."

“Go ahead,” said Church, adding, “Jeff, you told me you saw Captain Picard do it once, remember? So some humans can learn to do it."

Brandy didn't try to interfere again, knowing how desperate Church was to ease his son's pain.

Anyone who had watched television since the 1960's was familiar with the way Dan placed his hand on the supposed nerve points where neck met shoulder. “All right—now!” he said, and squeezed.

Jeff's weight sagged and his head lolled as he fell unconscious.

“How did you do that?” Brandy asked in astonishment.

“Power of suggestion,” Church said, as Dan turned to the job of freeing Jeff's leg. “Thank God it worked."

With the boy unconscious, Brandy and Dan worked around the broken leg, until the light went out entirely.

“Sorry!” called the man who had supplied the flashlight. “Those were my last batteries."

“Where's that rescue team?” Brandy asked. Now she couldn't see a thing.

“I think I can do this,” said Dan, removing the rock chips. “I can feel it. He's almost free—” There was a sudden, sharp crack, as of splitting rock. “—there!"

Brandy felt the tension give, and then the two men were helping her lay the boy flat, carefully supporting his broken leg just as lights coming down the trail heralded the arrival of the rescue team.

With the proper equipment, Jeff was quickly strapped into restraints, then pulled up to where his anxious mother and sister waited. By the time the party reached the lodge, the ambulance from Murphy had arrived.

Explaining to the rangers what had happened was as bad as writing up a police report. Furthermore, in the light of the lodge they noticed that Dan's hands were bleeding. Despite his protests that it was nothing, he was taken off to have the cuts and blisters cleaned and disinfected, delaying his telling his version of the story.

Dan's hands rarely did anything more strenuous than tap a keyboard. They were certainly not used to digging rocks. Brandy found it somehow comforting to discover another vulnerability. When he returned, he told her, “The blisters will heal up in no time."

No time, indeed. Although his fingers and palms were rough and reddened, there were no open wounds. So where had the blood come from? Jeff? Dear God—how bad was the boy's injury?

It was 8:27pm before Dan and Brandy were released to drive back to town. “I notice you didn't tell the rangers about the Vulcan nerve pinch,” Brandy observed.

“It only worked because Jeff desperately wanted to believe it. In a sense, he hypnotized himself to escape his pain. I had to go on pretending because in trance he could still hear every word. Church understood."

“Are you sure that's all it was?"

“What—now you think I'm a Vulcan?"

“Not with that sun allergy. Vulcan is a desert planet."

He gave his deep, rich, sexy chuckle. “Now who's the Star Trek fan?"

She let him change the subject, because she didn't want to question him as if he were the suspect in some crime. Yet the more she found out about him, the more mysteries she uncovered. She didn't want to think about the impressions she had gotten after the flashlight went out, either: that he could see in the dark, and that once no one could see him do it, he had shattered the rock with his bare hands.