Gull Harbor (24 page)

“You need to go after him. He’s going to get away.” She winced as she tried to lift her head up.

“Not a chance, Claire.” He pulled his T-shirt off quickly and pressed the cotton against her neck. “Leaving you is not an option.”

“But—”

He cut her off. “No. We will worry about him later. Right now, my only concern is getting you to a hospital.” Pulling out his phone, he dialed 911 with the thumb of his free hand.

“I’m fine,” she said feebly, but her eyes drifted shut. Her lashes were sooty smudges against her white face.

He barked answers into the phone, his gaze darting anxiously between her neck and her leg. Dark blood, thick and ominous, still oozed from the deep puncture wound in the back of her thigh. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he untied the sweatshirt from around her waist and fastened it tightly around her leg in a makeshift tourniquet.

Her eyes fluttered open. “It hurts. Is the ambulance here?”

“No, honey.” He smoothed her hair back. “It can’t get this far into the woods. But there’s an access road not too far away. I told them to meet us there.” He adjusted the shirt around her neck, then slid his arms underneath her.

A look of confusion crossed her face. “Wait. You can’t carry me the whole way.”

“Yes, I can,” he told her, lifting her up. “And I will. You just rest.”

He glanced at the forgotten shovel as he set off toward the access road. He’d be back, he vowed. With the cops. Maria had come through for Claire—and him—when they needed her today. And now they would come through for her.

Chapter 32

She dragged her eyelids open, frowning at the strange machine next to the bed. What in the world? Suddenly the nightmare in the woods came rushing back, and her hand flew to her neck. She ran her fingertips over the bandages that stretched from under her chin to the spot where her jawbone met her right earlobe.

Max leapt from a chair in the corner, startling her. “Oh!” she cried, covering her throat protectively.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He reached for her free hand and clasped it in his own.

She stared dully at the IV tube taped to the inside of her elbow. Pink mosquito bites dotted the length of her arm. She scratched at them, wincing when her fingers landed on a large, tender bump. “Whoa. Killer mosquito?”

He smiled. “No. Killer tetanus shot. The doctor said it would hurt pretty badly. Aside from that, how are you feeling?”

“Sore. Stiff. And kind of high.”

“That would be the pain meds,” he said, raising the head of her bed. “You have stitches in the long gash on your neck. They didn’t stitch up the puncture wound on your thigh; it’s too deep. So they are just going to watch it. But you have some powerful antibiotics flowing into your bloodstream.” He gestured toward the pole supporting a bag of fluids.

“Did you carry me all the way through the woods?”

“Most of the way. They rolled the stretcher down the trail as far as they could, and we met in the woods. You lost a lot of blood—you were sort of in and out of consciousness.”

She nodded. “I remember falling, and then it’s sort of foggy.” She watched Max pour her a cup of water from the pitcher by the bed, accepting it gratefully. “I guess he got away?”

“For now. I wasn’t going to waste time on him while you needed medical attention. Once the paramedics had you, I called the police and described Gary and what I think was his car. But they didn’t find him. They will, though. I got the license plate number of the car parked on your street. It’s just a matter of time.”

A nurse walked by the open door, and she realized how quiet it was. She glanced at the windows. The curtains were drawn, but no light shone through. “What time is it?”

Max pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Two o’clock in the morning.”

She contemplated that for a moment. “I guess I should really be asking: what day is it?”

“Technically it’s Friday. You’ve only been asleep for about six hours.”

Claire blew out a breath. “When can I get out of here? I need to go home. I mean, to the Llewellyns’ house. I think they can move back in soon, so that’s something. I’ll need to pack.”

He looked at her, disapproval emanating from him in waves. “Claire, you were stabbed. More than once. And the person who did this to you is still out there.” He took her cup and refilled it. “You’re not leaving until the doctors discharge you. And even then, I will be by your side, twenty-four/seven, until this Gary lunatic is behind bars.”

“You have a job,” she pointed out, waving the plastic cup away. “And so do I. My job is to help Maria. She probably thinks I’ve given up on her. I need to get back to the house, where I can connect with her, and tell her I’m still going to find her. And then we need to dig up her remains and send them back to her family.”

Leaning over, he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “Babe, I know you’re anxious to help her. But you could have died. If he had hit your carotid artery, or the femoral in your leg…” He trailed off, his blue eyes moist as he gazed at her face.

A thick lump formed in her throat, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m fine.” She saw his mouth open to argue and quickly amended her statement. “I will be, anyway. And I promise I won’t leave here against medical advice. But I can’t stop worrying about the situation. What if Maria thinks I’ve abandoned her? Or worse, what if Gary goes back and digs up her remains before we can get to them?” Her heart rate jumped at the thought, and she flicked her eyes over to the machines monitoring her vital signs.

“If Gary goes back there, he’s an even bigger idiot than he already appears to be,” Max pointed out, his jaw clenching in anger. “But I don’t want you lying here worrying—you need to focus on healing. So how about this? The cops want to talk to you in the morning. When they’re done, I’m hoping they’ll post a guard. Then I can offer to lead the detectives to the spot in the woods. If Maria’s there, we’ll find her.”

“But he could be there right now!” The muscles in her neck tightened with tension, pulling against the bandages.

Max shook his head. “He’s long gone, Claire. He may not know that we have his license plate number, but he does know that you can describe him. He wouldn’t stick around Gull Harbor. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do until the morning. Believe me, the police will be here early. They’re as eager to talk to you as I am to get a uniform outside that door.”

Claire’s eyebrows pulled together at the last sentence. “I don’t need a babysitter,” she insisted hotly.

“You don’t own the rights to worrying.” He reached for a lock of her hair, twirling it gently. “I can’t commit myself to possibly hours in the woods when I know the guy who tried to kill you is still running around free. In fact, I’d feel even better if Dan were here too. Maybe he can come by and keep you company.”

“He has to work in the mornings.”

“Maybe after the morning rush he can slip away. You know this town; everyone is going to be badgering him for the story. And he’s going to want to see for himself that you’re okay. He’s worried about you too, you know. Those are from him,” he added, tilting his head toward the bouquet of flowers on her night table. “He came by earlier in the evening, but we didn’t want to wake you up.”

“That’s so sweet,” she said, smiling at the flowers. “I’d love for him to visit, when he has time. But a police guard? I just don’t think I require constant surveillance.”

“Humor me.”

She shrugged. The hospital room seemed plenty safe to her, but she was too tired to put up much of a fight. “Okay. But if they say they can’t spare someone to sit outside my room all day, please don’t give them a hard time. I’d rather the police be searching for Gary than watching me. Besides, I’m sure during the day this place will be teeming with doctors and nurses. I’ll be fine.”

“This coming from the woman who trotted off into the woods by herself in search of bodies with no cell phone.” His blue eyes darkened as he looked at her reproachfully.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that.” Her eyelids were growing heavy. She yawned, her chin tipping toward her chest.

“I forgive you,” he murmured as he lowered the head of her bed back down. He brushed a kiss against her lips. “And I love you. Now get some rest.”

****

Her heart battered her ribcage like a terrified bird trapped in a cage. The knife dug into her skin, cold and razor-sharp.

Gary held her against his body, and his ragged breathing stirred the sticky air by her cheek.

The rock flew out of the trees, but this time it missed him, falling harmlessly into the mossy dirt. “Nice trick,” he said with a sneer. “Here’s mine.” He yanked on her hair, dragging the blade across her exposed neck with deadly force.

Blood spurted from her opened throat in a bright red fountain. She struggled to call for help, but her severed vocal cords refused to work. Desperate and panicked, she tried again.

“Max,” she whimpered. A hand squeezed hers in response, and she opened her eyes.

“Hey,” Dan said, his kind face hovering over hers. “Are you okay?”

She blinked and looked around. She was in her hospital room, not the woods. Her heart rate slowed a bit as she attempted a wan smile. “Yes. Another bad dream, I guess,” she said shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Claire. The whole ordeal must have been terrifying.” Dan’s brown eyes shone with concern. “Do you want me to call a nurse?”

She shook her head weakly. “No, please don’t. The doctors are already convinced I’m going to suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have a psych consult today.”

He nodded. “It’s probably a good idea. You could have been killed. If the knife had gone lower, it could have cut through your trachea or your carotid artery.”

“I know. The doctors told me, and now that’s what keeps happening in the dreams,” she grumbled. Her free hand sought the controls and she raised the head of the bed.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Your mind is still trying to process the trauma. I’m sure the dreams will go away eventually.” He released her hand and offered her some water. “So, how are you feeling physically, gorgeous?”

She laughed derisively. “I’m not feeling gorgeous, that’s for sure. My leg is swollen to twice its normal size from all the bleeding into the tissue surrounding the knife wound. And then of course there’s this,” she added, gesturing to the bandages covering the stitches. “A plastic surgeon repaired it, I guess, but I’ll probably still have a scar. The meds control the pain, though.”

“Scars will fade. We’re just so glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” she said, flashing him a grateful smile. She assumed “we” referred to Dan and Max—she couldn’t think of too many other people who actually gave a damn whether she was okay or not. Her eyes scanned the room again. “Is Max…searching?”

“He is. He’s spoken to the police, and there’s an armed guard outside your door. The detectives will be by soon to talk to you some more.”

“Max got the guard, huh?”

Dan’s expression grew serious. “He usually gets what he wants. And what he wants is to keep you safe. He really cares about you, you know.”

Her chest constricted with a strange combination of pleasure and pain. She tried to cover her emotions with a playful shrug. “Well, of course he does—I mean, what’s not to like? I make incredibly bad, impulsive decisions. Plus, I’m lame, scarred, and crazy—the whole package.”

He grinned at her joke but shook his head. “Those things are temporary. You’re an amazing person, Claire. In fact, you’re the town heroine. Right now, you’re all they can talk about.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “I can’t even imagine what rumors are flying.”

Chuckling, he refilled her water glass. “There’s a particularly good story about how you lured Gary into the woods with your considerable mental powers, then raised his victim’s spirit to help you fight him.”

She rolled her eyes as she stifled a giggle. “All right, let’s hear the rest of that one. And then you can tell me the other, hopefully less outlandish stories. At least it will help pass the time in here.”

Chapter 33

Claire regarded the wheelchair, arranging her features to convey her displeasure. “I’m telling you, this isn’t necessary,” she grumbled as Max and the orderly helped her into it.

“Hospital policy,” the orderly said cheerfully. “Just try and enjoy the ride.”

He wheeled her through the stark halls while Max walked beside them with her bags, shortening his stride to keep pace. She lowered her nose and inhaled the scent of the flowers in the bouquet on her lap. They were three days old, and did little to cover the medicinal smells making her unsettled stomach roll.

“I can’t wait to get out of this place,” she announced as she spotted the large main doors of Cape Cod Hospital. “No offense,” she added, glancing up at the orderly.

He grinned. “None taken. ‘Scuse my language, but a hospital must be hell for someone who talks to ghosts.”

Her mouth dropped open before she broke out in laughter. Word was getting around, apparently. “You’ve got that right. Lucky for me, I have an excellent defense system. And the morphine certainly helps.”

The doors slid open with a whoosh, and they traded the fluorescent lighting for bright sunshine. She spotted her car parked by the curb.

“I didn’t want you to have to climb into the pickup. And the bike was clearly out of the question,” Max said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She shrugged. “You’re the one that has to drive it. Unless you want me to take the wheel?” She giggled at her lame joke while he helped her into the passenger side.

“Not likely. You are not allowed to drive anywhere until you’re off the pain meds. Is that understood?”

She gave him a crisp salute, and he rolled his eyes. But the drugs did make her drowsy, not to mention silly. He buckled her seat belt and tucked a blanket around her. “It’s like eighty degrees, you know,” she pointed out.

“Humor me.” The engine turned over immediately for him, and he pulled away from the building. “I’d be dropping you off at a safe house somewhere if they hadn’t already caught Gary. You’re getting off easy.”

“I’m pretty sure all the safe houses around here are full. It’s July. It is still July, right?” Her eyelids began to droop as the motion of the car soothed her frazzled nerves.