Heroes of Falledge Book One: Black Hellebore (8 page)

He thought about jumping to his feet but refrained and, instead, leaned back with his arms folded behind his head. Her chair groaned in protest. "Ready for me?" he asked.

Julianna scowled at him. "We won't be long," she promised Ginny.

Ginny looked from Julianna to Nicholas to Julianna again, a smirk on her face. "Take your time."

Nicholas glared at her. "We have dinner to get to, so the quicker the better."

"I do own an oven, and food can be reheated," Ginny said sweetly.

Julianna flicked her hand impatiently.

Nicholas made a show of taking his time getting up. She rolled her eyes as he sauntered toward her.

"Move it," she growled as she passed him to the small interrogation room.

Still not bothering to pick up his pace, even pausing some until Ginny grunted, he entered the room thirty seconds after her. He knew he was being childish, but he didn't care. He was here for Ginny, not Julianna, and he wished one of the other deputies was working tonight.

"Tell me what happened." She folded her slender hands on top of a legal pad, a few lines already written on it.

"Well, after..."

"After?" she prompted.

He wiggled his eyebrows.

She flushed and narrowed her eyes. "Get on with it."

Pushy little thing. "I was about to leave town when I drove past what used to be the lab." He stared at her, hoping to see some kind of emotion to clue him in on the strange happenings there, but her face was a mask. The only hint of emotion was annoyance. She could not be colder toward him than if she was on top of Mount Everest.

"Just stick to the pertinent facts. Did you or did you not witness the burglary?"

Hearing her voice filled with such bitterness churned his stomach. Justina had never talked to him in such a way. The twins shared the same voice, and he felt as if he had been slapped.

If she was going to be an ice princess, he could be a cool cat, too.

He drummed his fingers onto the table and stared at the wall above her head. "Yeah."

"And..."

Nicholas began to count the blocks behind her. One, two...

"Did you recognize the thief?"

He shook his head. Six, seven...

"What happened? Did you talk to him? Interact at all?"

Ten, eleven...

"Nicholas!" She pounded her fist onto the table.

He lowered his gaze to her. Julianna was getting worked up. She breathed heavily. Her lips twisted into a thin line. Her shoulder-length blond hair was falling out of its ponytail. She held a pencil in her hands. If she bent it anymore, it would snap in half.

"Julianna," he said coolly.

"You don't want to be here. I don't want you here. Answer my questions, and you can go."

He liked the sound of that but still refused to give many details. "I ran after him, caught up to him, forced him to give Ginny back her purse. Then he took off."

"Why did you let him go?"

Nicholas scowled. "I didn't let him anything. It ain't
my
job to keep criminals off the street." He shifted forward, ready to stand. "Any other questions?"

"Remember Mr. Davis?"

Nicholas blinked. "Yeah..." he said slowly, not understanding her point. Why was she bringing up their old government teacher?

"He taught us about the civilian arrest. You could have arrested the guy and kept him off the street for me."

Despite himself, his lips curled upward slightly. "Yeah, but I want you to earn your paycheck."

She rolled her eyes. "At least I have a steady--"

He did not want a lecture, so he changed the subject. "Remember Miss King?"

Her lips relaxed into the tiniest smile. "Ugh, she was the worst. Always droning on and on about speeches and writing."

He gasped and clasped his hands to his chest. "You mean you didn't care for one of your English teachers? You, the editor-in-chief of the high school newspaper as a sophomore?"

"No." She made a noise that almost sounded like a snort. "After all, she assigned us that group project."

Nicholas wrinkled his nose. "I'm just glad I convinced you we should do Poe."

"I know we got an A minus, but we would have had a flat A if you had listened to me and we'd written about Romeo and Juliet." Her eyes widened as she said this, and she looked away for a second.

Her reaction puzzled him. She had been quite passionate then about Shakespeare's play, but now she seemed... no, not embarrassed... almost petrified. But why?

"The least romantic love story ever," he explained.

"Least romantic? How can you say that?" She tilted her head to the side, open curiosity in her blue eyes, any hint of distress she had just shown gone. Maybe he had only imagined it.

"They died at the end."

She giggled. "How sweet. You didn't like that they didn't have their happy ever after." Julianna gasped and reached toward him but stopped before touching him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Justina--"

"Stop."

"Nick, I just want to know what happened between you two. Why did she--"

"You know that kiss we had? Hadn't kissed a woman since Justina."

Julianna dropped her hands to her lap and hung her head. "I don't know what came over me," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Look, let's just forget the whole thing. Let's not talk about the kiss--"

"Okay."

"Or Justina."

She squared her shoulders, and he knew she wanted to argue. Instead she nodded. "Fine."

"Good." He should feel relieved, but he didn't. A long time ago, he and Julianna had been friends. They'd had a blast writing that paper about how crazy Poe had been, even though they should have written about one of his stories or poems. Julianna had claimed Nick was just as crazy as Poe. He'd tried to get her to loosen up and act a little crazier.

Yes, they had been close once. Good friends. Best friends. But now, they weren't anymore. Because of the years spent apart? Because of the kiss?

Or because of Justina?

Julianna was the only living connection he had to Justina, and yet, as much as he wanted to be close to Julianna again, he wanted to increase the distance between them.

Julianna was a danger to him and his sanity. He needed to leave Falledge before he lost more than just his mind.

Chapter Eleven

He mumbled something to Julianna about not wanting anyone to know about his role in the would-be robbery and walked out of the station a minute later with Ginny beside him.

A reporter waited outside to talk to them. Nicholas whispered in Ginny's ear, "Don't tell her about me being your hero."

"But--"

"Please. I just want to be left out of it."

The woman approached, her heels clacking on the sidewalk. "Please, Ginny, may I have a moment of your time?" She glanced over at Nicholas and smiled.

He stepped to the right and waited for them to stop talking, grateful Ginny kept his identity a secret.

Once they were on their way again, she made no more comments about Julianna either.

Which wasn't like her. She was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

Nicholas glanced over at her. She was taking short, fast steps, her head low. Normally she always walked tall, her chin held high. Her hands trembled as she clasped her broken purse to her chest.

The poor woman really looked shaken up.

He faked a yawn. "I'm not sure I'll stay awake long enough to eat," he said.

Ginny glanced over at him, and a small glint of her old self emerged in her eyes. "I didn't slave away to make you a meal and you not eat it."

"If you insist, I'll eat. I promise."

"Good."

Thirty minutes later, Nicholas's belly was stuffed, and he sprawled out on Ginny's sofa again. He claimed her food made him too tired to leave, but truthfully, he felt as refreshed as if he had slept for a solid nine hours. He could hear her bedsprings squeak every few minutes. She was obviously restless and unable to sleep. Who could blame her? Ginny would have to be completely closed off for today's events not to affect her.

An hour passed, then two, before the springs silenced. She must have finally fallen asleep.

Nicholas abandoned the couch. Ginny had been too tired to do dishes, so Nicholas did them for her. After he started up the dishwasher, he noticed a crooked shelf on the wall. He found a hammer and nails in the basement. He must be careful not to wake her up.

After he leveled the shelf, he held his breath and gently tapped the nail. The nail shattered through the wood, and the shelf cracked deeply.

What the heck? He barely touched it!

Tires squealing drew his attention, and he ran to the front of the house. A loud crash sounded.

He threw the door open, the door coming off the hinges. Nothing to the left. Nothing to the right. There, off the road.

A car.

Slowly sinking into the lake.

His heartbeat accelerating, Nicholas burst down the porch steps and stood beside the lake fifteen seconds later. By now, the car was completely submerged but still sinking.

He dove into the water and reached the car. Two passengers, a female driver and a young boy in the back seat.

Knowing time was running out, he cocked back his arm and punched the back window open. Water rushed into the car. He ripped at the car seat harness and freed the boy from the restraints. Two powerful kicks of his legs and they reached the surface of the water. Using one arm to hold the boy and the other to swim, he reached the shore as quickly as he could and dumped off the boy before returning to the car.

Time to save the mom.

The car was sinking faster now, already much deeper than it had been when he rescued the boy. He swam to the front of the car. It was completely smashed in. The crash must have been through the steel fence surrounding the lake.

Turning around, he realized the driver's side door was mangled, the woman's body trapped against it. It was too dark for him to see if she was bleeding or not, but he couldn't risk trying to open the door to save her. She could bleed out or become punctured on the sharp edges of the door, if she wasn't already.

But he had to do something or she'd die.

Chapter Twelve

Weighing his options, Nicholas hesitated for a brief second. He wasn't a doctor. He had no idea what to do, although he was fairly certain moving her would not be smart.

Which meant he had to lift the entire car.

By now, it had drifted to the bottom of the pond. He kicked his legs and swam toward it. He reached for the door handle and brought his legs to the ground. Adrenaline coursed through his body. His lungs felt fine despite his submersion underwater for a good bit of time now. He bent his knees and placed his hands under the side of the car. Closing his eyes, he lifted it.

And promptly dropped it. It bounced and settled back on the ground.

The car proved much lighter than he'd thought.

He lifted it again and carefully held it above his head. Knowing time was of the essence, he walked forward, step by step, but he made only slow progress. The woman might be dead already, her lungs filled with water. He thought of the boy he had already saved. Growing up without a mother was not a fate he would have the boy live through. Not if he could help it.

After making sure the car was secure in his hands, he pushed off the ground and kicked. At first it was awkward to swim while holding the car, but he managed. He reached the surface a few moments later, and shoved the car onto the grass.

Crap. Why hadn't he thought to call for an ambulance before he had left Ginny's house?

Now was not the time to dwell on his failings.

In the dim lighting from the stars, he saw the woman's face, her skin slightly blue.

Nicholas glanced at the boy. He appeared to be sleeping. Anxiety and doubt filled Nicholas as he knelt beside the boy and placed his hand on the kid's chest. To his relief, his hand moved up and down. Slowly, but it was definitely moving.

Should've made sure he was breathing before I got his mom.

Again doubt plagued him, and he debated calling for an ambulance when he realized the woman's face was now bluer.

He had to get her out of the car.

It looked to Nicholas like most of the blood came from her facial injuries, not from her chest or torso. With a quick prayer, he tugged on the door handle.

It broke off into his hand.

His fingers were thick, but he managed to squeeze them into the cleft of the car door. Planting his feet, he yanked. The mangled door peeled off the car. He tossed it onto the ground. It slid across the grass and sank into the water.

Nicholas pushed the air bag aside and reached around to unbuckle her seat belt. With the tenderness of carrying a newborn, he lifted her out of the car and placed her on the grass next to her son.

Okay, now what?

He closed his eyes and tried to think. Between his lack of education and limited medical knowledge, he could only guess what to do next. He had to get the woman breathing again, had to get the water out of her lungs. Compressions... was that the right term? How? He knew you had to press down on the body, but where?

Falling to his knees, he placed one hand on top of the other. He shook. Damn nerves. He touched her torso, felt her frail ribs beneath her skin.

His hands dropped to his side as he pulled back. He had so easily broken the shelf, lifted an entire car, ripped off a car door... If he pressed down on her chest, he could break several of her ribs and do a lot more harm than good.

Not wanting to do anything more than help, he rolled her onto her side. He rubbed her back and debated rolling her onto her stomach as he wondered if he could try to force the water out that way. Before he could try, he heard the squeal of tires.

Julianna's car. Followed by an ambulance. Someone else must have heard the crash and called the police. He must have been too focused on the family to hear the sirens. Its piercing cry now shattered through his ears, and he gripped his temple as he staggered away. He blended first into the growing crowd, then the darkness, and ran back to Ginny's house, careful to slip inside when no one was looking his way.