A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12) (9 page)

BOOK: A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12)
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“Do you really think Wayne is going to call? If he sees you following him, or if he sees any police, he might shoot Reece.”

Something must have caught Carter’s eye as he lifted his head to look into the sky. His eyes widened as he pointed up and over the top of the warehouse. “Holy shit, I think I know where Amy is.”

As I followed the trajectory of Carter’s extended finger, I gasped when I saw the red balloon floating above the rooftop.

“She must be somewhere inside,” I said. “Let’s go find her.”

 

Carter and I ran back into the warehouse and started shouting Amy’s name. We eventually found her in a room up in the loft where crates of empty cigar boxes were arranged in such a way that Amy could not escape. Carter hauled the crates out of the way and approached the girl, who was sitting on the ground. Her face was covered in some kind of brown substance and that’s when I saw the candy wrappers surrounding her. Wayne must have placated her with the candy, to keep her from crying. There were dozens of balloons above her, stuck to the ceiling. One of them had obviously escaped, climbing up through the rafters, making its way through a hole in the roof somewhere.

Amy just stared up at us with a neutral expression. She seemed neither scared nor particularly relieved to see us. I gave her a big smile and leaned down toward her. “Hi, Amy. I’m a friend of your mother’s. Looks like you’ve been having candy.”

Amy said nothing as she looked away from me embarrassed, like she knew it was wrong and her mother would not be pleased that she had eaten so much sugar.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I love chocolate, too. Is that you’re favorite candy bar?”

She nodded and tried to hide her face from me like she was playing a game of Peek-a-boo. A huge wave of relief washed over me, knowing Wayne had not hurt the girl. Even though Amy didn’t seem like she was cold, I removed my jacket anyway and draped it around her shoulders.

Carter turned to leave. “Since Amy is okay, why don’t you call the police and tell them what’s going on.”

“Why?” I said. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to catch up with Wayne before he ditches his car, or does something stupid that he’ll regret.”

And before I had a chance to voice my opinion, Carter was gone.

Chapter 20

 

The cops showed up at the warehouse seven minutes later along with an ambulance and a social worker. The first priority was to make sure Amy was okay, although I could have told them that already if they’d cared to ask me.

I explained in as much detail as I could, exactly what had transpired. I tried calling Carter to find out if he was still in hot pursuit, but he never answered his cell.

Without a car, I felt completely helpless to the situation. I should’ve been right beside Carter, instead, I was sitting inside a cold warehouse, giving answers to their redundant questions.

“You need to send out an APB for Wayne Miller’s car,” I kept telling them. “He still has Amy’s mother and she is not safe.”

The officer asking the questions didn’t quite seem to believe my story and I guess I couldn’t blame him. If anything, he was treating me like I was the one who had abducted the girl and brought her to this rat-infested place. Even after showing him my private investigator’s license, he still didn’t seem to trust me.

I should have been thankful that I didn’t get hauled away in handcuffs, but the cop insisted on having me wait in the back of his cruiser. He didn’t actually arrest me, but apparently, I was being escorted to the police department as if I were a criminal. I knew if I resisted, it would only make me look guiltier than I already did.

I kept checking my phone, silently pleading for Carter to get in touch. Where was he? Had he caught up to Wayne and Rita? Damn it, I needed to know what was happening.

At least Amy was safe. I had to keep reminding myself that that was the important thing. When the officer returned to the cruiser, he offered his apologies for the delay. “Just a few more minutes until we wrap things up here, Ms. Woods. Hang tight, okay?” There was sarcasm in his voice that I didn’t appreciate. I felt like shouting out,
do I look like a child abductor to you
? But I remained quiet and nodded politely.

Alone in the back of the police car, I began to shake uncontrollably. It was as if a ghost had entered my body, just like in the freaky scene in the movie where Patrick Swayze’s ghost enters the body of Whoopie Goldberg. I knew it was probably just an accumulation of nerves but it left me feeling uneasy. My throat was dry and I would have killed for a glass of water or a piece of gum. And I had to pee, like, really badly.

Through the windshield, I could see several uniformed officers conversing in hushed tones. Something had happened and it had appeared to create some tension. The officers kept glancing back at me and I knew I must be the topic of their discussion. One of the officers actually took off running toward his cruiser and the officer who had placed me in his car came trotting back. Had these guys finally figured out I’ve been telling the truth?

When he opened the door and got behind the wheel, he glanced back at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Ms. Woods, it appears you were right. A call just came in. There’s been an accident and three people have been rushed to St. Mary’s. One of the people involved is Wayne Miller, just like you said. We’re heading to the hospital right now.”

“An accident?” I said. “What happened?”

“It’s unclear right now as we don’t have all the information. But apparently some shots were fired and someone called 911.”

I couldn’t breathe but I managed to say, “Was anyone killed?”

The officer didn’t respond for a few seconds and all I could think of was Carter.

“Was anyone killed?” I asked again, this time I couldn’t mask the desperation in my voice.

“Yes,” the officers finally said. “There is at least one casualty involved. I’m sorry, but that’s all the information I have right now.”

“Please,” I said. “We need to go to the hospital.”

 

 

Chapter 21

 

 

Twenty minutes later, as I walked through the halls of St. Mary’s hospital like a zombie, the chain of events leading to this moment seemed like a dream. I, along with the police officer who drove me there, kept asking the nurses where we could find Carter and Reese Dutton but we couldn’t get any answers. I felt like pulling my hair out.

Finally, I was able to speak to a nurse who informed me that Carter had been whisked into surgery after sustaining a gun shot to his chest. The bullet had barely missed vital organ
s—
thank Go
d—
but by the time the paramedics had shown up on the scene, he had lost a lot of blood. The nurse couldn’t tell me what Carter’s chances of survival were but she did say that he’d be in surgery for at least another hour.

The only thing my brain could comprehend was that my life, as I knew it, might be over. Not to say that my body wouldn’t survive, because it would, but my heart would be forever broken if Carter didn’t survive this.

Still, nobody could tell me exactly what had happened. All I knew was that Wayne Miller was dead and Rita had sustained a few cuts and bruises from the car accident. She was still there at the hospital, having some x-rays done and I was headed to her room to wait for her.

The nurse wouldn’t allow me into Rita’s room so I had to linger in the waiting room. I made myself a cup of coffee and sipped it as I paced the confines, listening to Brian Williams spout on about the war in Afghanistan from a wall-mounted TV.

I don’t usually make a habit of asking God for favors but this was one of those times. I even promised to give up wine, if only Carter would survive. I even promised to give up sugar, just to sweeten the deal. I’d give up just about anything to guarantee that Carter came out of surgery alive.

At the sound of a familiar voice, I spun around to see Rita standing a few feet away. There was a gash on her head with stitches and her hand was all bandaged up. She ran up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed. “Sarah, I owe you and Carter my life.”

I hugged her back, but she must have sensed my confusion, so she pulled away to look me in the eyes. “I guess you know Carter is in surgery. I’ve been praying for him.”

“You have to tell me what happened,” I said. “Did Wayne shoot Carter?”

Rita led me back to her room and closed the door behind us. Inside, Amy and the neighbor Bunny were sitting on a sofa, coloring with crayons. They both looked up at me as we entered and Amy’s eyes lit up with recognition. She waved at me and smiled, like I was a friend she hadn’t seen in a while. I waved back and tried to smile, but my heart felt heavy in my chest. I turned back to Rita and said, “She doesn’t seem traumatized in the least.”

“Thank God for that,” she said. “I feel blessed that she wasn’t hurt. She might have a bellyache from all the candy, but that’s it.”

“Can you tell me what happened after you left the warehouse?”

Rita nodded, her eyes downcast. “Wayne kept driving, but he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. All I know is that he had taken us off the main street, heading into the forest on some dirt road. I had my hand on the door handle the whole time, thinking I might try to jump out if he’d ever slow down, but he kept his gun pointed at me the whole time. Then after a little while, Wayne seemed really annoyed and started mumbling under his breath while looking in the rear view mirror. I felt this tap on the back bumper, like someone had hit us from behind. It was Carter.”

“Carter bumped you guys while driving?”

“Yes. I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause an accident. He just wanted to get us to pull over. Well, Wayne must have gotten flustered because he rammed on the brakes at one point. He lost control and we smashed into a tree. Wayne got pinned right up against the steering wheel and he couldn’t move, or so I thought. Carter was at my side in a second, making sure I was unharmed. He helped me back to his car then got on his cell phone and called 911 right away. He went back to the SUV, and I assumed he was going to try to check on Wayne, to help him. When the gun went off, I had no idea what happened or why.”

“Wayne shot him?”

“I thought Wayne was practically dead. When I heard the gunshot I was so stunned. And when I saw Carter collapse on the ground, there was so much blood that I feared the worse. I got the extra gun from the glove box that you showed me, and I grabbed it.” Reece closed her eyes as if the image was too much to take.

I blinked at her in disbelief. “You went back and shot Wayne?”

“Yes. I shot him in the head. I didn’t even flinch.”

Rita glanced over at her daughter who was still coloring in her book with the help of Bunny. Rita’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “I’ll never forget the sacrifice you and Carter made to help save Amy. I know Carter is going to make it through this and be fine. I just know it.”

I only wish I could have felt so confident. But I certainly hoped she was right.

Just then, a detective dressed in street clothes showed up and flashed us his badge. He wanted to take our official statements. Rita offered to go first.

“I need to go check on Carter,” I told the detective. “He’s my partner and he’s in surgery. Besides, I’ve just spent the past hour giving my testimony to another officer. You can talk to him.”

And then I ran to the elevators.

 

* * *

When Carter finally got out of surgery, they kept him in ICU for the next few hours. The surgeon informed me that Carter was strong and he’d most likely pull through, but I wouldn’t be able to see him for a little while longer. The first hours after surgery were very fragile and I was to remain ever patient. Ha, no easy task.

I wanted to hug that doctor but instead I shook his hand. I had a hard time letting go of the man who saved Carter’s life. “Thank you so, so much,” I said, trying not to weep all over the poor guy who was just doing his job.

I waited and waited. I drank two or three cups of nasty coffee flavored water. I called my son, Brian and gave him all the gory details. He was shocked and saddened by the news of Carter’s predicament. He offered to come visit me at the hospital but I assured him I was fine. Then I called Max and apologized for missing our dinner. He understood and was quite gracious after I explained what happened. I told him we could have coffee in the morning before his flight back to California. He sent his best wishes for Carter’s quick recovery.

After ending the call with Max, I went to the ladies room, attempting to make myself look presentable but it was no use. My face and hair looked atrocious and, quite frankly my dear, I didn’t give a damn. I splashed my face with cold water and patted it dry, then tossed a handful of mints into my mouth. I could only imagine my coffee breath was about as scary as my face.

As I exited the ladies room, a nurse came to get me. Good news. Carter was doing well enough to be transferred to his own room on the third floor.

I sighed with relief, my faith restored in all things. Life was good. No, it was better than good.

I felt elated.

“Well,” I said to myself, looking up to the heavens. “I guess I’m giving up wine and sugar.”

And I was more than happy to do it.

 

* * *

Carter still appeared to be heavily sedated when I sat on the edge of his bed and held his hand, where an IV was hooked into his vein. The heart monitor was making its steady blip blip sound and it was music to my ears. After a few minutes, a nurse entered to check his blood pressure and other vital signs. She didn’t seem overly concerned and left the room within a few minutes.

I continued to caress his hand, not wanting to let go for one second and, when his eyes fluttered open, my heart leapt in my chest.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus on me but, when they did, he smiled. “What happened to you?” he finally said, groggily. “You look like hell.”

I burst out laughing and crying at the same time, unable to control my emotions. I should have known the first words out of his mouth would be something smart-ass.

“Well,” I said, brushing his cheek with my fingers. “You look absolutely perfect to me.”

“Is Rita okay?” he licked his dry lips. “I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

“She’s fine, but Wayne is not so fine. She killed him after he shot you in the chest.”

His lips turned up into a small smile. “Quite an adventure, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said. “A little too much excitement for me.”

Carter tried to sit up. He winced in pain and decided he’d better stay put but did manage to scoot over a few inches. “Come lie down next to me,” he said.

“Are you sure? I don’t think the nurse will be pleased when she comes back in.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I want you next to me.”

I gingerly crawled into bed with him, trying to avoid the IV tubes and other paraphernalia he had attached to him. Once I found my groove, I was able to get comfortable and settle my head inside the crook of his arm. Sure, it was a bit awkward, but at the same time, it couldn’t have felt any more right.

“Better be careful,” Carter said in his teasing tone. His eyes were growing heavy and I assumed a fresh batch of pain killers mixed with sleeping aids were coursing through his veins. “I might not be able to keep my hands off you this time.”

“There’s plenty of time for that later,” I teased right back. “Right now, you should rest, okay?”

Carter made a mumbling noise that sounded like an affirmative, but he didn’t have much to say after that. He was fast asleep again.

I listened to his heart monitor blip blip blip for the next twenty minutes until the nurse returned. She didn’t seem particularly amused at seeing me in her patient’s bed, but she said nothing about it and I didn’t move a muscle.

 

BOOK: A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12)
7.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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