Dangerous Secrets (12 page)

I wished Maggie were with me. I wondered what
mental acrobatics Richard was putting himself through. Lucky Brenda was home in
Buffalo, oblivious to our predicament. She was a kindred spirit. Sometimes she
could feel the same things I did. She called it second sight—but her gift
wasn′t as pronounced as mine. I reached out for her over the miles, but I
was too far away.

Six months before I′d been living in
Manhattan, truly alone. Since the mugging, my life revolved around those three
people—I depended on them. Without them, my world would be pretty empty.

A shudder passed through me, and I felt my tenuous
connection with them threatened. I covered my eyes, unsure if that swell of
emotion was my own or a remnant from Beach′s shaken psyche.

I lost track of time. After a long while, the
door opened and the lights brightened. Sgt. Beach entered and tapped me on the
shoulder.
‶
You
can go now. Ms. Brennan is waiting for you.″

I glanced at my watch. It was after seven.
‶
Can
someone give us a lift back to the inn?″

‶
Yeah.″

I followed him to the reception area. Maggie
rushed to hug me.

‶
C′mon, Maggs, let′s
get the hell out of here.″ I put my arm around her shoulder and we
followed a policewoman to a squad car, got in the back and traveled in strained
silence.

A frightened, dry-eyed Maggie clung to me like
a second skin. I couldn′t guess what they′d put her through, and
held her protectively in my arms.

Damn them. Damn them all.

Chapter 13

Dark gray clouds thickened over the mountains
and large drops of rain streaked the squad car′s windows. Outside the
muted landscape looked as bleak as I felt.

Finally the officer pulled up the Sugar
Maple′s drive. We had to wait for her to get out and open the back door
fromDark gray clouds thickened over the mountains and large drops of rain
streaked the squad car′s windows. Outside the muted landscape looked as bleak
as I felt. the outside. We said nothing and ran for the inn′s covered
porch. Richard had been waiting for us behind the screen door. He burst out
and, without a word, embraced us.

‶
Let′s have a
drink,″ I said.
‶
We′ve got some gin.″

‶
I′ll get the ice. Shall
we meet back in my room?″ he offered.

I retrieved the tonic, the cheese and crackers,
and the camera from the Chevy, and left Maggie in Richard′s care while I
went upstairs to get the gin bottle.

The police had wrecked our room. The suitcases
were dumped, our clothes and personal belongings were scattered in disorderly
heaps. The bed was in pieces, the mattress and box springs leaned against the
wall, while the sheets, blanket, and the bedspread were piled next to it. The
rented camera equipment was strewn across the floor and I hoped to God none of
it was broken.

I found the gin bottle amidst the clutter in
the bathroom. Grabbing it, I closed the door on the mess, too heartsick to deal
with it.

Richard let me into his room, which looked
orderly and sane compared to where I′d just been. He took the bottle from
me and played bartender while I flopped down on the loveseat next to Maggie. A
minute later he handed each of us a stiff drink.

‶
You both look shell shocked.”

‶
I feel shell-shocked,″ I
said.
‶
Did
they question you?″

‶
Not about the murder. Obviously
I didn′t arrive until after Ms. Marshall was dead.″

‶
They know about you, Rich. I
had to tell them we′re brothers.″

He shrugged, helplessly.
‶
I
did, too.″

‶
I didn′t tell
them,″ Maggie blurted. Her voice cracked, her eyes brimming with sudden
tears.
‶
I
did as you said—I didn′t tell them a
damn
thing.”

She blasted me with pent-up frustration and
betrayal. For a moment I was stunned—by her revelation and her reaction.
She′d endured God only knew what kind of verbal abuse from the local law,
and had been the most resilient of the three of us. I reached for her hand and
she yanked it from me, turning away. Richard stared at the floor, plainly
embarrassed to be intruding on her emotional distress.

‶
Maggie, I′m sorry.
I—″

She raised a hand to stop my feeble apology.
When she finally turned back to face me, she′d regained her composure.
‶
I′m
just glad it′s over.″

‶
What did they say to
you?″ Richard asked.

She glared at me.
‶
They tried to get
me to say you killed Eileen. They didn′t seem to care about the truth,
they just wanted me to say it.″

I turned to Richard.
‶
What did they ask
you?″

‶
First—where I live. As soon as
I said Buffalo, the officer consulted his notes. He asked me my address, then
wanted to know my relationship with you.″

‶
Some real slick detective work
on his part,″ I grumbled.

‶
Did you get a feel for what
they know or don′t know?″ he asked me.

‶
I′m pretty sure McFadden
believes I didn′t do it, but he doesn′t know who did,
either.″

Richard took a pull on his drink.
‶
After
the cops left, I found an old phone book behind the bar downstairs, went out on
the patio, and I tried calling every lawyer listed. Thanks to the holiday
weekend, I couldn′t get hold of anyone. In desperation, I called my
lawyer in Buffalo. He said he′d find someone to represent us by nine
tomorrow. I told him I′d call back in the morning.″

‶
Thanks.″

I sipped my gin. The headache was still with
me, and it wasn′t wise for me to be drinking. Right then I preferred gin
to my headache medication, even if I′d regret it later.

‶
So,″ Richard asked,
‶
what
happened?″

‶
Interrogations aren′t
fun. I needed someone in my corner, so they put in a call to Detective Hayden
back home. He told them about my talent, and they put me to a test.″

‶
Did you pass?″

‶
In spades. I think I freaked
the sergeant. I nearly freaked myself.″ I told them about the vision.
‶
After
that, they left me alone. A while later, they let us go. But you know,
I′m still shaking.″

He raised his glass in salute.
‶
Hear,
hear.″

‶
I′m hungry,″ Maggie
said. It sounded so out of context—so incredibly normal.

‶
We′ve got the cheese and
crackers,″ I suggested.

She shook her head.
‶
Let′s go
someplace where there′s lots of people and noise and comfort food, like
soup and maybe a couple of rolls.″

‶
Wouldn′t you rather have
a hot fudge sundae?″ Richard asked.

‶
Maybe that, too,″ she
sheepishly admitted.

I smoothed the hair around her face.
‶
I′ll
bet the restaurant we went to last night could handle that.″

‶
Are you up to driving
yourself?″ Richard asked.
‶
After we eat, I′m going
to hit the drugstore again.″

‶
No problem. Come on, pretty
lady. Your dinner awaits.″

‶
I′ll catch up with you at
the restaurant. I want to change clothes and get cleaned up, too,″
Richard said.

‶
Okay. See you there.”

He closed the door on us and we headed down the
hall.

Kay Andolina sat in one of the wingback chairs
in the lobby. She looked up from her book, craning her neck to see us as we
headed for the front door. She shook her head in disapproval, as though the
police must′ve made a mistake by letting us go.

I ignored the old witch, too weary to care what
anyone—with the exception of Richard and Maggie—thought of me.

The rain came down in sheets. Maggie covered
her head with her arms as we ran for the car. I was thankful I hadn′t
locked it. Once inside, Maggie tried to fluff her flattened hair. She looked
absolutely ridiculous. I couldn′t help but laugh.

‶
Hey,″ she protested as I
leaned over to kiss her.

‶
You make me happy,″ I
told her.

‶
You make me happy, too. But
I′m hungry. Let′s go!″

‶
Okay, okay.″

I started the car, feeling better than I had in
hours. We buckled up and I pulled onto the road.

I like to drive without distractions, but
prolonged silence unnerves Maggie. She turned on the radio, playing with the
scan button, trying to find a station. My attention was focused on the road
when suddenly bright headlights appeared uncomfortably close behind us. Richard
doesn′t drive like a maniac, and the blinding lights were too high up to
be the Buick. Right on my ass, they obliterated everything else in the rearview
mirror.

Then it bumped us.

‶
Hey,″ Maggie cried,
bracing herself against the dash.

I gripped the wheel, pressed the gas pedal
closer to the floor and sped up, but the vehicle leapt forward and tapped my
bumper again.

A car whipped by in the oncoming lane. The
vehicle behind me made to pass, or so I thought. Instead its driver rammed me
in the side.

‶
Who′s doing this?″
Maggie wailed.

I recognized the make as it smashed into us
again—a Chevy Blazer 4x4. I held the steering wheel in a death grip, but the
wet pavement and the force of the blow sent us skidding. Then we hit that spot
in the road that I knew so well. Suddenly we were airborne, shooting like a
projectile off the asphalt and into infinite space.

The Chevy hit the ground nostrils first, and
then somersaulted ass over end. Papers and maps flew wildly around us. The
Chevy righted itself before smashing into the earth, momentum gouging a trench
as it carried us along the bottom of the embankment. A utility pole loomed.
Maggie′s screams seemed endless until the squeal of tearing metal and
shattering glass obliterated them.

Chapter 14

My senses returned one at a time.

Sound registered first—a hissing noise. The
radiator?

The car listed at almost a forty-five degree
angle. I hung from my seat belt and shoulder harness like a snagged
parachutist. It had kept me from going through the windshield, but my neck and
chest were on fire, and my insides felt jumbled, like they′d gone through
a Cuisinart. The interior of the car was dark, but the beam of the left
headlight cut a narrow shaft through the darkness outside.

‶
Maggie?″ I croaked.

There was no movement from the seat beside me.
I grasped her elbow. She didn′t react.

‶
Maggie!″

The driver′s door was wrenched open, the
dome light flashing on.
‶
Jeff? Jeff, are you all right?″

I moved my head and winced.
‶
Rich?″

‶
Are you okay? Is anything
broken?″

‶
Get me out of here.″ I
struggled with the seat belt but it wouldn′t release.

‶
Hold on. Let me make sure
you′re all right before—″

‶
I′m okay—Maggie′s
hurt!″

He grabbed me by the waistband of my jeans,
reached around me and wrestled with the seat belt latch, then hauled me out
before I could fall onto Maggie. He leaned me against the rear door, held up
two fingers.
‶
How
many?″

‶
You asked me that last night.
It′s still two!″

‶
Okay!″ He went in after
Maggie.

The dome lamp shed scant light. I watched him
gently pull back the hair from her face. Blood stained the crazed glass on the
passenger side window.

‶
Got a flashlight?″ he
asked.

While I fumbled under the driver′s seat,
Richard reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves.
Carrying them was a habit he’d gotten into after attending to an injured man
some three months before. The threat of HIV still hung over him. It was
something we didn’t talk about.

Hands shaking, I gave Richard the flashlight.
He moved back inside the car and peeled back one of Maggie′s eyelids and
shined the light.

‶
Maggie? Maggie, it′s
Richard. Can you hear me?″

She showed no reaction.

‶
She′s got a pulse and
she′s breathing.″ Richard unbuckled her seat belt, checking her
over for broken bones, careful how he touched her head.
‶
So far nothing
seems to be out of place.”

Richard reached for her right leg and swore.
The flashlight′s beam ran across the twisted door.
‶
We′ve
got a lot of blood here, but she doesn′t seem impaled.″ He set the
flashlight on the dash.

‶
Where′re the seat
controls.”

‶
In the front somewhere.”

He fumbled with the seat in the dim light.

The odor of gasoline grew stronger. Except for
sparking wires dangling from the pole above us—telephone or power?—I
couldn′t see a damn thing in the darkness.

‶
Rich, the gas tank′s
ruptured.”

‶
As long as there′s no
fire, we should be all right. The rain will help dissipate it.″ He pulled
the lever and the seat jerked back an inch or so—no more. He gave up, crouching
over Maggie and swearing. I strained to see what he was doing when suddenly he
sat back, fumbling with the belt at his waist.

‶
What′re you doing?″

‶
There′s too much blood.
We′ve got to stop it.”

My insides churned.
‶
Shouldn′t we
get her out of the car first?″

‶
There’s no time.”

I watched helplessly as he stuck a hand under
her thigh, brought the belt up, shoved the loose end through the buckle and
pulled it taut—an instant tourniquet just I above the knee.

‶
Is there a hospital or a fire
station nearby?″ he asked, his voice remarkably calm.

‶
The fire department is in the
village—next to the police station.”

For a split second, his face registered
indecision. Then,
‶
No time to wait for help. We′ll put her in the
back of the wagon. The keys are inside. Go open the gate. Put the back seat
down.”

I turned, running—stumbling up the embankment
and practically skidded to a halt in front of the old car. I yanked the keys
from the ignition, and then slipped on the wet gravel on my way to the back.
The gate flew open, but I had no clue how to get the back seat to lay flat.

‶
Jeff!″

Frantic, I hopped inside. Searching the
seat′s top and sides, I finally found the catch and folded it flat.

‶
Jeff!″

I slid on my backside down the muddy hillside
to the hulk of my car. The Chevy had shifted. Above it a power line writhed
like a snake, with sparks dancing from it.

My God—the ruptured gas tank!

Cradling her head and neck, Richard backed out,
pulling Maggie′s dead weight across the shifter, then stopped, struggled
out of the car, reached back in, and then dragged her some more.

‶
Help me! Careful of her leg.”

Richard took most of her weight, frantically
trying to support her neck as we half-dragged, half-carried her up the
rain-slick embankment. A whoosh broke the night as the Chevy went up in a huge,
orange fireball—the force of the explosion rolling over us like the concussion
from a bomb.

I stumbled and swayed.

‶
Jeff,″ Richard hollered,
his voice keeping me alert. We staggered the last ten feet to the back of the
wagon.
‶
Support
her head,″ he ordered, as he transferred her weight to me before he
crawled inside the back of the car. He took her from me and carefully pulled
her inside. Scrunched alongside her, Richard shoved a hand into his pocket,
grabbed his clean handkerchief, caught my hand and slapped it against
Maggie′s mangled calf.

‶
Hold this.”

When he removed the belt, her warm blood gushed
into the cotton.

‶
What′re you doing?″
‶
Moving
the tourniquet farther down her leg.″ He struggled out of his jacket,
tucked it around her head like padding, then reached for her throat to take her
pulse.

‶
She′s in deep shock.
We′ve got to get her some help—now!″ He looked up at me.
‶
Can
you drive?″

‶
Yeah,″ I answered
automatically.

He pushed my hand aside, taking the sodden
handkerchief.
‶
Do
it!″

I slammed the gate, jumped into the car, jabbed
the key into the ignition and started it, then fumbled with the controls on the
dash until I turned on the dome light.

The flames from my car reached into the dark
night as I shoved the Buick into gear and took off, gravel flying, heading for
the center of town.

We flew down the road, past hotels with
no-vacancy signs and deserted strip malls with all the stores closed. Traffic
was sparse. I ran a red light, turned the corner and gunned it until I saw the
fire station lit up like a beacon in the night. A police cruiser sat under the
sodium vapor lamp. I pulled in, braked and honked the horn.

‶
I′m going in,″ I
told Richard, then I jumped out of the car and ran.

The lady cop who′d driven Maggie and me
back to the inn sat perched on the edge of a desk, drinking coffee with a
uniformed fireman. Her face went blank as I skidded to a halt in front of them.

‶
We were in an accident! My
girlfriend′s hurt bad.″ They spilled their coffee as their cups hit
the table with a thunk.

The cop shoved me back outside.
‶
They′re
on a call,″ she said, her sweeping hand taking in the empty station as we
ran.

‶
My brother′s a
doctor—he′s with her.”

The cop ducked into the still-open
driver′s side of the wagon.
‶
What′ve you got?″

‶
Lower extremity—possible torn
artery, and a head injury. ″

‶
Jesus,″ she breathed.

‶
Can you give us an escort to a
hospital?″

‶
The nearest one′s in
Morrisville—about nine miles north of here.”

‶
Have they got a c-collar or
gauze inside? I need a pressure bandage!″

I yanked the keys out of the ignition once
more, ran to the back of the wagon and opened the gate.

The firefighter pushed past me, bogged down
with a big tackle-box-like first-aid kit, a backboard, and a couple of
blankets.

Richard grabbed a blanket, shoving it under
Maggie′s injured leg.

I stood back, feeling useless.

The fireman donned surgical gloves before he
opened the back door. He secured the collar around Maggie′s neck while
Richard set up the dressing on her leg.

I couldn′t take in their shorthand
conversation, spoken in medical jargon. The rain and the chill air seeped
straight into my bones. I peered through the rain-dotted window. Maggie′s
pale, slack face looked bloodless under the eerie yellow light. Usually
she′s an extension of my soul—a calming influence that′s a pleasure
to glom onto. My connection to her was now shattered. She breathed so shallowly
I was scared to death she might stop.

‶
What happened?″ the lady
cop demanded of me.

I tore my gaze from Maggie.
‶
We
... were forced off the road. A black Blazer four-by-four. We got her out of
the car—it blew up.″

‶
Fire?″

I nodded.

‶
Where?″ she demanded.

‶
A mile or two back up the
road.″

‶
The Mountain Road?″

‶
Yes.″

‶
I′ll call it in and alert
the hospital we′re coming in.″ She dashed back into the building.

Richard and the fireman maneuvered Maggie onto
the backboard.

I stood there, soaked by the pouring rain,
feeling stupid and useless.

The officer was back.
‶
Whenever
you′re ready,″ she told Richard.

‶
Let′s go!″

“Good luck,” the fireman called as we took off.

The drive to Morrisville was the longest twenty
minutes of my life. Richard and I didn’t speak—I was too scared to ask any
questions, but he spoke to Maggie, telling her she’d be okay, his voice calm
and reassuring, though I doubted she could hear a word. By the time the lights
of the town appeared, the muscles in my arms were quivering from my death grip
on the steering wheel.

The police cruiser slowed and cut its siren. We
pulled up in front of the hospital′s emergency entrance. A team of people
in scrubs descended on the car, their voices a tangle that was impossible to
comprehend.

Richard squirmed out the back of the wagon. In
a fluid motion, they transferred Maggie to a gurney and whisked her inside,
with Richard still holding onto the pressure bandage.

‶
You can park over there,″
the lady cop told me.

Still on autopilot, I did as I was told, yanked
the keys from the ignition and sprinted for the emergency entrance. The
automatic doors whooshed open—the bright fluorescent lights stung my eyes. The
cop was waiting for me.

‶
Do you need help, sir?″
The urgency had left her voice.

‶
What?″

‶
Were you injured in the
crash?″

‶
I ... I don′t know. I
don′t think so.″

‶
Sit down.″ She pushed me
into a chair. A minute or so later she returned with a nurse.

The matronly, gray-haired woman in a white
polyester pantsuit held a clipboard in one hand, and a pen in the other.
‶
Are
you a relative or friend of the patient they just brought in?″

‶
She′s my girlfriend.”

‶
I need to ask you some
questions. Are you okay to answer?″

‶
I think so.”

She sat beside me.

‶
Was it a car accident? Was she
wearing a seat belt?″

I nodded and winced.
‶
Yeah. ″

She asked me about the accident before getting
to Maggie′s name, age, and address. Did she have allergies? Was she
taking medication? Alarmed, I found I couldn′t answer even the most basic
questions on her medical history.

The nurse studied my face.
‶
You
look pretty shook up. Our staff is small, but we′ll check you out as soon
as we can, okay?″

I nodded, grateful for her kindness. She
smiled, patted my shoulder, and disappeared.

The policewoman was back at my elbow, pressing
a cup of vending machine coffee into my hand. Double sugared, it tasted
terrible. Shaky, I sipped it anyway.

She sat beside me, a notepad in hand.
‶
Where
exactly did the accident take place?″

It took a moment for the facts to assemble in
my brain.
‶
Route
108, about two miles north of the fire station.

‶
Do you think you could identify
the car that hit you?″ For a split second the Blazer′s back end had
been illuminated in the glow of my headlights. Until that moment I hadn′t
made the connection between the vision and reality.

‶
Colorado,″ I whispered,
closed my eyes and remembered in photographic detail what I had seen.
‶
Colorado
license plate FWP-284.”

‶
Are you sure?″ she asked,
sounding skeptical.

‶
Yes.”

‶
Because Vermont and Colorado
plates are similar—both green and white.”