Murder Is Our Mascot (13 page)

Emily sobbed out a breath of relief, and a few more tears pooled in her ears. "I don't want to worry my parents. Could you call my friend Tad?" She recited his number and then closed her eyes, trying to come to grips with their situation. They had no transportation, their phones were probably lost, and they were in the hospital. All of that would sound very scary to her parents. But Tad would be calm and level headed. He would tell Greg and make any necessary arrangements. At the thought of Greg and the twins, her ears turned into small pools. Never in her wildest imagination did she think that going to Peculiar Bluffs would put Gabby in any danger.

She must have drifted off from the combined effects of pain and exhaustion, because the next thing she knew, the gentle voice and hands were back, and she was being wheeled into a surgical room. "I called your friend Tad. He'll be here when you wake up. He said to tell you he would take care of everything and not to worry." The pain in Emily's arm was stealing her breath, but she managed to nod weakly. The cool rush of anesthesia brought a welcome return to the darkness.

* * *

This time the light that woke her was not so blinding. Emily cautiously looked around. She was in a hospital bed, a low light burning. A dark head was bent, resting on the edge of her bed. She was ridiculously glad to see Tad, a familiar presence in this nightmare world that she had entered the moment those headlights flashed in her rearview mirror. Emily tried to raise her arm to pat those comforting, disheveled curls, but her arm didn't budge. It was like trying to lift an anvil. She checked out the cast keeping her right arm bent at the elbow. Well, that would certainly take some getting used to. She tried lifting her left arm instead and awkwardly patted the top of Tad's head. He immediately jerked to attention. "What's wrong? Do you hurt? Do I need to call the nurse?"

"I think my brain is too overwhelmed for that many questions, but let me try. I'm glad to see you. I've never been more terrified in my life. I don't hurt too badly right now, but I'm sure I will later. And yes, you need to call a nurse."

"I can help you get out of bed if you need to, um, you know…" Tad gestured toward the bathroom door. "I'll call the nurse," he finished.

"It's not that," Emily told him. "I want out of this bed permanently. I want to go to Gabby. Where is she? How is she?" And now the true horror of what could have happened to her best friend hit her like an avalanche so that she couldn't stop the slide into tears. They weren't pretty tears, either. They were red-eye-inducing, snot-producing, gut-wrenching, sobbing tears. Without a word, Tad crawled up on the bed on her good side and wrapped his arms around her. Emily cried into his soft flannel shirt until she was sure she was dehydrated. Shifting a little, but not removing her cheek from the warm comfort of his chest, she whispered, "Sorry."

Tad gently lifted her chin so that he could look her in the eye. "I think that was inevitable. I'm glad I was here when it hit. Pit, you're going to be okay. And Gabby too. They're keeping her overnight for observation, but she only has a mild concussion."

Emily tried to sit up. "
Only
a mild concussion? She is in the hospital because of me, Tad!"

"Did you run yourself off the road?" Tad asked reasonably.

"How did you know what happened?" she asked him.

"You did some babbling to the nurse who first treated you. Gabby did too. We pieced together that much of the story. The details can wait until you and Gabby are feeling better."

Emily said, "Call the nurse, Tad. I either go to Gabby's room where I can see her for myself, or I will check myself out against medical advice."

Tad pushed at his hair. His eyes briefly closed before he looked down at her once again. "This is going to be one of those things I can't talk you out of, isn't it?"

Emily simply nodded. Tad pushed the button for the nurse, then shifted off the bed and back into the chair he had occupied when she awoke. She missed his strong, warm body next to her. Alone in the bed, she felt swallowed by the white sheets, adrift on a sea of the unfamiliar and frightening.

A woman in crisp blue scrubs marched through the door, her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. "You called for a nurse?" she asked.

Emily faltered at her stern voice but tried to match her tone for tone. "I want to be released from this bed. I don't plan on leaving the hospital, but I will not stay here. I will be in Gabby Spencer's room."

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, Ms. Taylor. The doctor wants you under observation, as well."

Emily struggled into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Tad rushed to help her. "I'll be checking out then," Emily informed the dispassionate face.

"Stay here. I'll see what I can do." The nurse turned sharply on the heel of her rubber clogs without a backward glance. Emily slumped against the pillows.

"You sure about this?" Tad asked quietly, propping her up a little more. Emily only had the strength to nod once.

The nurse returned and began unhooking Emily from her various monitors. She didn't say a word, but her set jaw and haughty nose-in-the-air expression spoke volumes. When she handed Emily a stack of release papers to sign, Emily gave Tad a
help me
look and indicated her incapacitated right hand. He held up the forms so she could manage a scrawl with her left.

"Your friend is in Room 310," the nurse informed them in a monotone, scowling over Emily's illegible scrawl.

"Friendly," Emily muttered under her breath, but her sarcastic bravado vanished when she managed to gain her own two feet. The room swam and swirled in a psychedelic haze. She blindly groped for something to hold on to, and then Tad's strong, steady hands were there.

"Easy, Pit," he murmured. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been in a car wreck," Emily answered. She tried to laugh but humiliated herself by crying instead.

"Let's go see Gabby" was all Tad said. But he kept a supporting hand around her waist as they left the room.

* * *

The long stretch of hallway to Gabby's room might as well have been a jungle trek as exhausted as Emily felt on their arrival. Her body was screaming at her for its multiple scrapes and bruises, but it was the sight of Gabby in her hospital bed that brought Emily up short.

Gabby's dark curls were brushed back, revealing the purpling bruise running across her temple and spreading down the right side of her face. Greg's back was to them, and he was talking quietly on the phone. Emily clutched Tad's arm harder as Greg turned and spotted them in the doorway. Emily's mind raced as he said his good-byes and hung up the phone. Then everything she'd planned to say was forgotten as she stumbled to him and sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Those were the only words she could manage.

Greg, who had always been like a brother to her, gently pulled her back with his hands on her shoulders. "Em, you have nothing to be sorry for, because this was Not. Your. Fault."

"But Gabby…" Emily faltered, gesturing toward the still form of her friend.

"Gabby is going to be fine. They're finally letting her rest now. Looks like you need to do the same."

"Yes, she does." This nurse had corkscrew curls and freckles. The opening lines of "The Sun Will Come out Tomorrow" ran through Emily's mind. "I know you've signed your discharge papers, but the doctor has prescribed you a pain pill, if you want it." She smiled at Emily and tilted her head, waiting for her response.

"That's something I won't argue with." Emily was starting to feel just how badly her arm throbbed. The nurse beamed at her as if she'd won a spelling bee as she handed her the little white paper cup. Emily managed to swallow the pill despite the lump of guilt and regret constricting her throat. Tad pulled up a chair next to Gabby's bed, and Emily wearily eased into it. She held Gabby's limp hand in her own, grateful it was warm despite her pale cheeks. She turned to Tad. "Thank you for everything. You should go home and get some rest." When he nodded, Emily lowered her head to the side of Gabby's bed, much the same way Tad had done at hers earlier. She just needed to rest her eyes for a moment.

* * *

A light tap on her shoulder roused her from sleep. Emily jerked up, wiping drool from her chin. A quick glance showed her that Gabby was still resting peacefully, but dawn now painted its brilliant colors across the canvas of the sky. The crick in her neck told her she had been asleep for several hours. As she got gingerly to her feet, she wasn't sure which weighed more heavily on her—her guilt or her cast-encased arm. When she turned to see who had woken her, the sight of her parents tipped the scales in favor of guilt. Still, she was thankful for the sling that helped support her arm.

Emily stepped out into the hallway with her mom and dad. The grays, whites, and institutional greens of the hospital contrasted sharply with the pink, orange, and gold of the sunrise she had glimpsed out the window. The only color in the hallway came from her mom's red, swollen eyes and her blindingly bright-fuchsia top. She raced forward to hug Emily, careful to avoid her arm. Her dad was next, and when Emily felt him tremble, she leaked a few more tears.

"We were so worried. Why didn't you call?" Her mom was wiping at her eyes again.

"Precisely because I didn't
want
to worry you." Emily patted her mom's back and glared daggers at Tad, who she saw was lurking at the end of the hallway. The coward.

"We thought you might need backup. We're so thankful Tad called us." Her dad sounded so serious, Emily almost laughed.

"I'm sure Greg's more upset with me than he's letting on, but I don't think I'll require backup."

Her mom shook her head at Emily's words and pointed toward the other end of the hallway. Detective Gangly-Arms was eating up the scarred linoleum with his long strides. He stopped in front of their assembled group, and without preamble, said, "You are two extremely lucky ladies. I've seen the accident site, and it's a wonder you didn't roll your vehicle."

Emily nodded. "Yes, Detective. I'm very thankful. But why are you here exactly? Isn't this a little outside your jurisdiction?"

Tad stepped forward. "I called him."

Emily brushed at her matted hair. It was too early in the morning to play twenty questions. She stared silently at both Tad and the detective. Before either could speak, Greg called out, "She's awake!"

Emily rushed to Gabby's bedside, weak with relief to see some color back in her friend's cheeks. "Hey," Gabby croaked.

"Hey back," Emily whispered. She leaned over and gently hugged her best friend in all the world. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "That's all I know to say, and it's not enough."

"Stop that right now," Gabby ordered, sounding more like her old self. "Greg"—she turned to her husband—"help me sit up, will you?" Greg propped some more pillows behind her, then she continued, once again addressing Emily. "For once, your terrible driving was not your fault. That vehicle ran us off the road!" Gabby looked absolutely outraged.

"And that's why I'm here," Detective Gangly-Arms spoke up. Gabby took his presence in her hospital room in stride and introduced herself.

"Care to tell me what you two were doing up in Peculiar Bluffs?" he asked, pulling out his notebook.

"Why?" Emily countered.

"Come off it, Em. This is serious." Tad stepped forward, her parents on his heels. "You know as well as we do that this wasn't some random accident. Someone knows you're digging into Layton's past, and they're not happy about it." Tad looked furious, but Emily didn't know what to say. She wasn't even sure who he was actually furious with.

"Mr. Higginbotham is right. Now I'll ask you again, what were you two doing up in Peculiar Bluffs?"

"Talking to Jim Layton's old principal. Trying to find out where he was before coming to Iowa," Gabby answered.

"And what did you find out?" the detective inquired, taking notes.

"Nothing, besides he came from New York and had a brother who suffered some kind of loss." Emily answered this time but then couldn't help adding, "But I'm sure you already knew that."

Detective Gangly-Arms ignored her, instead asking, "What can you tell me about the vehicle that ran you off the road?"

"It was a dark color—maybe black, maybe dark blue. It was some kind of SUV, but that's really all I can tell you. It was full dark by then, and their headlights pretty much blinded us."

Gabby nodded her agreement. "I had fallen asleep, and then the next thing I know, we're being rammed by some psycho. I was trying to call the police. I'm not sure I ever got that done, though," she added thoughtfully.

"No," the detective told her. "No 9-1-1 call was received. A man who farms in this area heard the crash and called for help."

"We need to get his name," Emily's mom spoke up. "I want to thank him."

The detective nodded. "I'll get that to you." He turned back to Emily. "You two should be thanking your lucky stars, you know that? Your vehicle was completely totaled."

Emily gulped. That stung. But compared to their lives, the PT's loss was inconsequential.

"You've been very helpful," the detective added as a doctor bustled in to check on Gabby.

Emily followed Gangly-Arms into the hallway. "What exactly do you mean by 'helpful?'" she asked.

"We've been searching for Ms. Burning's car since the night she disappeared. You do know what she drives?" Emily's heart sank as she pictured Helen's navy-blue Tahoe. Detective Gangly-Arms continued, "The vehicle that ran you off the road has to have extensive damage. Hopefully, we'll get lucky and hear from a repair shop."

"You know Helen's innocent." Emily craned her neck to look straight into his eyes.

"All I know, Ms. Taylor, is that I'm performing an investigation. One I expect you will stay out of from now on. Understood?" Emily stared at the floor, battling her anger. "I'm sure you don't want to see anyone else you care about get hurt," the detective added.

"Of course not," Emily snapped, turning and bumping into Tad.