Chasing Darkness (23 page)

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Authors: Danielle Girard

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Literary

BOOK: Chasing Darkness
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Within
a few minutes Rob opened the car door and got inside.

“How
was practice?” Sam asked, revving the engine and starting down the street.

“Fine,”
Rob muttered.

Sam
turned the car toward home. Something was tickling the back of her mind, but
she couldn’t drag it to the surface.

“I
thought I was getting a ride home with Jason’s mom,” Rob said, breaking into
her thoughts.

“I’m
working from home for a few days, so I thought I’d pick you up. I hope you
don’t mind,” she added.

“Nah.
Jason’s mom is a bitch anyway. Are you staying home because Der’s sick?”

“No,”
she said. “And please don’t use that word. I’m working from home because of the
case I’m on with Nick out here. It doesn’t make sense to go to work in the
city.”

Rob
nodded slowly and then turned to look out the window. “Are you and Nick
dating?” he asked, his gaze locked on the passing streets.

Sam
watched him for a minute before responding. He didn’t turn to her. “Would that
bother you?”

Rob
glanced over and shrugged. “I don’t know. I really like him, but I don’t want
to date him.”

Sam
smiled.

“I
thought maybe you were gay,” he added in a low voice.

Sam’s
mouth dropped open, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his boldness. “You
thought I was a lesbian?”

Rob
shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I
agree, but no, I’m not—a lesbian, that is. How come you never asked?”

He
shrugged again. Sam wondered if they had a class on shrugging at school. Her
nephews shrugged better than anyone she’d ever seen.

“If
you have questions, you should just ask,” she said.

“You
do a lot of strange stuff.” Rob shrugged again. “Maybe all adults do things.”

“Like
what?”

“Like
that folder of coupons you keep.”

“A
lot of people clip coupons.”

“But
you don’t ever use them.”

She
didn’t have a good answer to that one. It was true. She’d never brought the
huge folder of coupons to the store with her, never used a single one. Instead,
she clipped them, filed them, and kept them stored the way some people probably
kept emergency cash on hand. Once a year or so, she’d clean out the file, throw
away the expired coupons, and keep going. “True,” she finally said. “Is there
anything else?”

Rob
shrugged, and Sam wondered if she couldn’t have a harness fitted for him that
would keep his shoulders from doing that. “You sleep in flannel sheets all
year,” he said. It was more a statement than a question.

“I
guess I get cold easily.”

He
nodded. “It’s still weird.”

“As
for dating,” she continued, returning to the original subject, “I haven’t found
anyone I really like.”

“But
you like Nick?”

It
felt like such a loaded question, but she found herself nodding. “I think so.
I’m not sure. I’m not sure I’m very good at relationships.”

He
stared at her and nodded. “Me neither. I liked this girl Penny at school, but
she didn’t give me the time of day. Then, when I stopped liking her, she was
all over me. Girls are weird.”

Sam
laughed. “That’s for sure.”

“What
about that Brent guy?”

Sam
had never discussed Brent with the boys—she had answered their rare questions,
but they’d never met him, never seen pictures of him. Sam didn’t even think she
had any left. “Brent wasn’t a very nice person,” she said out loud, thinking he
was actually a cold, heartless prick. She was thankful to be able to admit that
the destruction of their marriage wasn’t solely her fault. “Nick’s a much
better person. Does it make you uncomfortable since he’s your coach?”

“No.
But don’t jerk him around.”

Sam
didn’t mind that Rob protected Nick. Maybe he would give Nick the same lecture
about not hurting her, but she doubted it. Rob was right. She didn’t want to
hurt Nick. She cared about him. She wanted to get to know him, to let him know
her. It was the first time she’d ever wanted someone to
know
her.

Polly’s
face flashed through her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut for an instant to
push it away. Even Polly hadn’t known her. As she opened her eyes, she saw a
flash of reddish-orange pass in front of the car—a jacket. She hit the brakes,
but nothing happened.

“Shit!”
She pumped harder, frantically slamming her foot to the floor. The car didn’t
even slow. “The brakes don’t work!”

“Watch
out!” Rob screamed.

Sam
looked up and caught the face of a child through her windshield, his body only
twenty feet from her bumper. “Oh, my God!”

Slamming
her foot onto the emergency brake, she swerved the car to the right. The face
got closer.

“You’re
going to hit him!” Rob yelled.

Jerking
the steering wheel to the left, Sam swerved across the other lane and jumped
the curb. She could smell burning rubber as the tires screeched on the
pavement. She hit a tree and lurched forward. The airbags popped open and she
felt the nylon burn against her arms.

Shaking
herself, she grabbed Rob. “Are you okay?”

He
moaned. “Yeah. What happened?”

Her
heart racing, she shook her head. “I don’t know. The brakes didn’t work.” She
ran her hands across his face and head, looking for blood. “Are you sure you’re
not hurt?”

“My
shoulder’s stiff, but I’m okay.”

“Don’t
move, Rob. I’m going to call an ambulance.” Sam unfastened her seatbelt and
grabbed her cell phone. She dialed 911 with shaky fingers and waited until she
heard an operator. “This is Sam Chase from the Department of Justice. I’ve had
a car accident. I’m at Walker Avenue and Oak Knoll Loop in Walnut Creek. Send
an ambulance.”

Just
then, she remembered the flash of color in front of the car. The child. She
dropped the phone and pushed herself out of the car. As she ran across the
street, a horn blared and she jumped back, barely missing being run down.

She
found a small boy hovering beside a tree, his head down. She knelt beside him.
“Are you okay?” Oh, please God, let him be okay.

The
boy was shaking and didn’t answer.

She
pulled him back from the tree and held him in her arms so she could see his
face.

Wide
brown eyes stared at her, and he flinched at her touch.

“Where
does it hurt, sweetie? Talk to me.”

He
trembled at the sound of her voice, and she scanned him for injuries. He
couldn’t have been older than six or seven. She thought of little Derek when he
had come to live with her. So small, so fragile, he had seemed so afraid of
everything. “Please talk to me.”

He
blinked hard and nodded.

“Are
you okay?”

He
nodded again.

“Did
I hit you?”

He
pointed to his stomach. She lifted his shirt, but she didn’t see any marks on
his white skin. Still, she couldn’t be sure.

“Your
stomach hurts?”

He
nodded again, a single tear running down his cheek.

She
began to rock him. “Okay, it’s going to be okay.” She looked down the street
for the ambulance, wondering how Rob was, praying this boy wasn’t hurt, cursing
the ambulance for taking so long.

In
the distance, she heard sirens. People had started to gather on the sidewalk,
but she ignored them, waiting for the police to arrive.

“Are
you all right?” one man asked.

Sam
exhaled, pointing to her car. “Can you check on the boy in that car?”

The
man ran across the street. When he returned, he told her, “He’s got a sore
shoulder is all. You call the police?”

She
nodded.

“I
can see the ambulance now.”

“Thank
God,” she whispered. She ran her hand over the boy’s forehead, pushing his
sandy brown hair off the soft skin. He had closed his eyes, and the sight of
his face made her panic. “Look at me, buddy. Hang in there.”

His
eyes fluttered open and he gave her a weak smile.

She
smiled back, relief like a giant breath of clean air. “You feeling a little
better?”

He
nodded.

“I
want to have a doctor look at you—just to be sure.”

“I’m
okay,” he said in a tiny voice. “You just scared me ’cause I thought you were
going to hit me.”

Sam
rubbed his head and nodded. “I thought maybe I was too.”

The
ambulance pulled up to her, and the two techs came running.

Sam
motioned to the boy first. “Something happened with my brakes and I swerved to
miss him. I wasn’t sure if I hit him. He seems startled but not hurt. Still, I
want someone to take a look.”

One
of the techs knelt beside her with a medical kit. “Your head okay?”

Sam
frowned and touched her forehead. She felt warm, thick blood. “It’s fine. It
doesn’t even hurt.”

The
tech returned his attention to the boy. “What’s your name, buddy?”

The
little boy looked at her, and she nodded.

“Mason.”

“Okay,
Mason, does anything hurt?”

He
pointed at his tummy again.

The
second tech brought a wooden board, and the two of them lifted Mason onto it.

“I’m
okay here,” the first tech said. “What’ve you got in the car?”

“I
think it’s a shoulder injury from the impact,” Sam explained. “It’s my nephew.
He was wearing his seatbelt.” She crossed the street more carefully than the
first time and pulled open the passenger door.

Rob
opened one eye and smiled. “I always knew men were better drivers.”

The
tech laughed and Sam rolled her eyes. “I’m Chad,” he said.

“Rob,”
her nephew answered.

“I
hear you’ve got a sore shoulder.”

Sam
stepped back as the tech went to work on Rob. Her pulse no longer racing, she
found her cell phone and started to page Nick. She added the numbers 911 to the
end of her page and her cell phone rang less than a minute later.

“What’s
going on?” he said when she answered.

“I’ve
had a car accident. The front of the Caprice is pretty well smashed. I need
someone to tow it to the station, and I want a mechanic to look at the brakes.”

“What
the hell happened?”

She
felt herself start to shake and fought it off. “I don’t know. One minute I had
brakes and the next minute I didn’t.”

“Is
anyone hurt?”

“No.
I almost hit a kid, but I think he’s fine. I think we’re all okay.” But we
could’ve died, she thought. She couldn’t get herself to say it out loud.

“I’ll
get someone to come get it. Where are you again?”

She
repeated her location. “I’m going with Rob to the hospital. He’s hurt his
shoulder, so they’re going to need to do some X-rays. Call me when someone’s
seen the car.”

“I
will. Keep me posted on the shoulder, too. That’s one of my star players.”

She
smiled. “Right. I almost forgot.” She started to hang up when she heard his
voice again. “What?”

“You’re
sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,”
she said, letting her breath out. “I think we’re fine. But something’s wrong
with the car.”

“I
don’t care about the car.”

“Thanks,
Nick. We’re okay.”

“You
be careful.”

Sam
rode in the back of the ambulance with Rob on one side and little Mason on the
other. She’d spoken to Mason’s mother and assured her that Mason seemed fine,
if in shock. The tech hadn’t found any signs that he had been hit, but they
were taking him in for routine X-rays anyway. His mother would meet them all at
the hospital.

They
pulled in at the emergency entrance and Sam could see Mason’s mother, pacing
frantically. When the ambulance doors opened, Sam called the woman over,
confirmed again that everything was fine and watched as they wheeled Mason
inside, his mother with him. Sam followed Rob into X-ray and tried to wait
patiently while the nurses paged a doctor to assist them.

 

Two
hours later, she’d given her statement to a police officer who looked vaguely
familiar, and the doctors had confirmed that Rob didn’t have any broken bones.
Little Mason was fine, too. The doctor had put a suture on her forehead where
she’d apparently hit something in the accident, although she swore it didn’t
hurt. They put Rob’s arm in a sling.

Exhausted,
Sam took Rob’s good arm and the two of them walked out of the hospital.

“What
happened to the brakes?” he asked when they were outside.

She
shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You
think someone did that?”

She
met his gaze. His eyes were cool and serious, and he looked older than he was.
“I’m not sure, Rob.”

“Mrs.
Austin, you look like you’ve had an accident.”

Sam
looked up to see Derek’s physical therapist coming through the hospital parking
lot. She ignored the use of the boys’ last name. “Hi, Patricia. Just a little
fender bender,” she explained awkwardly.

“Everyone’s
all right?”

“Fine,
thanks.” Sam forced a smile and looked toward the cab waiting at the curb. She
just wanted to go home. “Good to see you.”

“Derek’s
doing great, by the way.”

Sam
turned back. “I’m glad. Thanks.”

The
physical therapist said something Sam didn’t catch.

Sam
turned back. “I’m sorry?”

“He’s
doing really well,” the PT said again, waving as she ran off.

Sam
opened the door of the cab and let Rob climb in first. “Two thirteen Oak Tree
Road,” she said, leaning back in the seat, exhausted.

Chapter
Twenty-two

Gerry
stared at the newspaper article about Eva Larson’s death. Seeing Sam Chase’s
name in print, he felt famous. It made him feel more alive than he had since he’d
left prison. He stared at the picture of little Becky and then read the page
three times before his eyes settled on the final line.

Funeral
services for Becky Larson, age 8, will be held by her grandparents this Friday
at 4
P
.
M
. at St.
Stephen’s Cemetery in Concord. Donations in lieu of flowers can be sent to the
National Center for the Prevention of Child Abuse.

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