A tall, lean man took one end of a stretcher. A burly middle-aged woman with purplish hair gripped the other. They moved toward him.
“Hurry.” Billy’s strong voice carried across the night. “This way. Come on, Lou.” He loped toward the woods, his Maglite shining a path before him, Lou close behind.
Annie whirled to follow, felt Max’s strong grip on her arm.
“Hold on, honey.” He was kind but firm. “We might get in the way. What matters now is help getting to Henny as fast as possible.”
Annie leaned against him. He was right. Nothing must interfere with Henny’s rescue. Was she conscious? How badly was she hurt? Surely Billy’s call for haste meant that she was alive, that time mattered.
The paramedics trotted past them. Officers swarmed to the edge of the woods, their lights bobbing as they ran.
Jeremiah, his head turned to follow their progress, reached the police car and opened the passenger door.
Annie stared at the dark mass of the trees, straining to see. One cluster of lights didn’t move. Officers must have gathered there, shining Maglites at the spot where Henny lay.
Annie stood with her nails pressed into her palms. Max waited with his arms folded, his face grave.
“She’s tough.” Marian paced back and forth. “Look, if she made it into the trees, she had to be ambulatory. Right? So they’re going to bring her out in a minute.” Marian’s husky voice was brisk but with
an uncharacteristic wobble. “I guess you guys got it right about Hathaway. Listen, fill me in on what you did today.”
Annie shook her head. “Not now.” Her voice was flat. “Not until we know about Henny.” She could see Jeremiah in Billy’s cruiser, his head turned toward the lights.
All of them, waiting, hoping, praying. Minutes passed, at least five, perhaps ten. To Annie, each minute seemed interminable. What was taking so long? They’d found her. Why didn’t the EMTs bring her out of the woods?
Max gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “They’ll make sure she’s stabilized before they move her.”
Annie found the words chilling… stabilize… Now she viewed the passage of time as an enemy. The longer it took to move Henny, the more serious her injuries might be.
Marian stopped pacing, her Édith Piaf face scrunched in worry.
Abruptly sound and motion exploded in the woods. A shout. Lights moved fast. Feet thudded as figures ran out of the woods and swept toward cruisers.
“Ohh.” Annie gave a cry of despair.
Max pulled her close, his arm tight around her shoulders. Marian swore, her husky voice despairing.
Billy Cameron hurried toward his cruiser, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie. In the lights of the cars, his face was grim, intent, commanding. Lou reached the car ahead of him and slammed into the driver’s seat as Coley Benson, the newest member of the department, opened the passenger door and yanked a thumb for Jeremiah to get out.
Car motors roared. The first of the cruisers backed and turned and drove down the drive toward the road, red lights flashing, siren squalling. Other sirens shrilled.
Bewildered, Annie shouted at Marian. “What’s happening?”
Marian was already loping toward Billy’s car, but the cruiser was on its way, Lou at the wheel, Billy in the passenger seat.
Coley strode toward them, obviously a man with a duty. Following close behind was Jeremiah.
Annie struggled to breathe.
“Mrs. Darling”—Coley raised his voice against the sounds of cars—“the chief wants you to go in the ambulance with Mrs. Brawley.” Before she could answer, he swung to Max. “Will you drive Jeremiah Young home? We can’t spare anybody to take him.”
Max nodded. “Sure. I’ll be glad to help.”
Jeremiah appeared dazed. “They said I can go home.” His voice was numb. “But I can’t leave now. They’re all in a hurry and they wouldn’t tell me anything. I got to wait for Miz Brawley.”
Annie spoke loudly to be heard as another siren squalled. “Coley, where’s Henny?”
“They’re bringing her.” His voice was young and excited. “I got to get started. The chief said he’d be talking to you later.” With that, he swung away, breaking into a run.
A breathless Marian skidded to a stop by Annie. Marian slapped her hands on her hips. “What’s with the exodus?” she shouted after Coley. Her head jerked back toward the woods. “And why is it taking so long?”
“Here come some people.” Jeremiah pointed toward the trees.
The EMTs came out of the woods, moving at a steady pace. Headlights flashed over them. The EMT at the back of the stretcher appeared to be chatting, her expression untroubled.
Annie felt a wild, desperate impatience. Why weren’t they hurrying? Why were the police cars peeling away from Henny’s house?
Her heart shifted as the stretcher came even with them and she
saw the small figure with a blanket drawn to her chin. “Henny.” Her cry rose above the sound of motors and voices.
Henny’s head turned. “Annie.” Her voice was weary but clear.
Joy swept Annie. Now the relaxed pace of the EMTs was balm. Henny might be hurt, but there was no need to hurry.
Marian expelled a deep breath. “You had us going, Henny.” Her raspy tone was a mixture of approbation and delight. “See you at the hospital. Exclusive to this correspondent. Now”—Marian’s head lifted as Billy’s cruiser roared past—“I want to know where the posse’s headed.” She hunched over her iPhone. “I got an app for my scanner.” She brushed the screen. Her eyes widened. “Oh, hell, I’m outta here.”
Annie grabbed a skinny elbow.
Marian pulled free, but over her shoulder shouted, “One eighty-seven. Two eighteen Barred Owl Road.” As she wrenched open the door to her VW, she yelled. “That’s homicide. Victim ID’d. Maggie Knight.” The last was scarcely heard as Marian tumbled into her VW, revved the motor, and the little car wheeled and zoomed up the road.
Henny tried to struggle upright. “Maggie’s been killed?”
Annie didn’t want to believe what she had heard, but there was no doubt what Marian had said. “That’s what Marian picked up on the scanner. That’s why they left so quickly. Hyla Harrison had gone to find her. She must have called.” Annie felt numb. Henny had worried that Maggie knew who took the message from the hall table. Now Henny’s fears were confirmed. Obviously Maggie knew and had hoped to take advantage of her knowledge. Instead, she had summoned death. Maggie’s murder made clear just how close Henny had come to death.
“I told her it was dangerous.” Henny’s voice shook. “I warned her.”
“Rest easy, ma’am.” The big woman’s voice was kind but stern. “Don’t want to aggravate that leg.”
Annie darted to the side of the stretcher, grabbed Henny’s chilled hand. “We’ll find out what happened later.” There was no urgency now to speak to Maggie Knight. It was forever too late. Whatever she had known, she could no longer share. “You need to rest, Henny.” They were at the ambulance now and the back was open. The EMTs lifted the stretcher.
Annie said firmly, “Chief Cameron asked me to accompany her to the hospital.”
The broad-faced woman pointed toward the passenger door. “You go in front. I ride with her.”
A
nnie shifted uncomfortably in the curved plastic chair. A deserted hospital hallway late at night was a grim and burdened place. Occasionally a nurse moved quietly past with a curious glance. A twin to Annie’s chair sat empty a few feet away. Officer P. K. Powell had gone to the restroom, arming Annie with a handheld air horn with instructions to push the black button if any unauthorized person attempted to gain access to Henny’s room. Annie held the horn gingerly. She didn’t want to accidentally unleash the unnerving
ooh-gah-ooh-gah-ooh-gah
, a warning sure to empty all the rooms and possibly precipitate heart attacks if the floor held any cardiac patients.
So far, Officer Powell had not been a cheerful companion in keeping watch at the door to Henny’s room, but it was she who had found the chairs and brought them and she’d even offered Annie a portion of a Baby Ruth. She’d answered Annie’s attempts at conversation politely but firmly, saying, “I’m not authorized to comment, ma’am.”
Annie was both reassured and worried by the officer’s arrival. A guard certainly offered protection for Henny, but her presence
indicated Billy Cameron felt Henny continued to be in danger. Still, Officer Powell’s presence was a comfort, a broad Scandinavian face, pale blond hair in coronet braids, a starched uniform.
Annie felt the vibration of her cell. She retrieved it from her pocket, answered softly. “They brought her to the room about fifteen minutes ago. She waved at me, but they scooted her right in. The orderly left. A doctor and nurse are with her. There’s an officer here.”
“That figures.” Max sounded somber. “I caught Marian on her cell. She’s at the
Gazette
now, writing her story. She knows it’s big. She’ll do a feed to AP. Marian’s pumped with enough adrenaline to power a generator. Maggie Knight was shot to death, apparently a bunch of shots. I don’t think we have two separate shooters loose on the island tonight, and I’m sure Billy agrees. Shots at Henny. Maggie shot to death. So, Billy has an officer on duty.”
As if on cue, Officer Powell returned, carrying a foam cup in each hand. She jerked her head toward the door, gave Annie a quick questioning look.
Annie covered the phone. “No one’s been in or out.”
Powell nodded. She set the lidded cups carefully on the floor to the left of her chair, retrieved the air horn, and placed it in a pouch. To protect Henny, she would meet an intruder with a gun and a billy club. She picked up the coffees, handed one cup to Annie, and settled in her chair with the other.
Annie took a sip of scalding coffee as she listened to Max.
“…took Jeremiah home and left him with his aunt. She was crying and holding on to him. I told her he was a hero. I don’t think there’s any doubt that he saved Henny’s life. He raised so much ruckus the killer got spooked. Think about it, Annie. The killer’s on the marsh with a gun, and it’s the kind of quiet you get in a place where there’s not another house within a couple of miles and the only sounds
are the pine branches soughing in the offshore breeze, an owl hooting, the slap of water on the pilings. Henny pulled up and opened her car door. The killer shot at her, but it’s hard to hit at a distance. Not like Maggie. She was standing in her living room and the shots came from about four feet. Whoever shot at Henny had to be fifteen or twenty feet away, or Henny would have seen someone waiting and maybe backed up and driven off. That first shot hit the window and then out of nowhere some guy started yelling that he’s coming and Henny dodged out of sight. The killer fired again and again and all hell broke loose, shouts and thumps. The killer got rattled and ran.”
Annie felt sick as she thought about how near to death Henny had been. “Jeremiah scared the murderer away.”
“Exactly.” Max was emphatic. “He’s a double hero because he was on the horn to nine-one-one while the shots sounded and the cops barreled up within minutes. If he hadn’t called the cops, say instead he’d called a buddy, told him where he was, asked him to get a boat and come for him, Henny wouldn’t have survived. She’d fallen, the ground was wet, hypothermia would have gotten her long before she would have been missed. I told his aunt he was a good man.” His voice softened. “She wanted to feed me pecan pie and send a piece for you. I finally got away by promising we’d come over for a celebration. I’m back at the house. I wanted to get our report for Billy. Also, I’ve made some calls. I alerted Mom and Emma. They’ll set up a schedule to make sure Henny isn’t alone. A team’s en route to the hospital now. I’m almost there. As soon as you see her, I’m bringing you home.”
“Max, I—”
He was firm. “You need to be fresh tomorrow to help Billy.”
A squeak, and the door to Henny’s room was pulled open.
Annie came to her feet. “Max, the doctor’s coming out.” She ended the call.
A youthful but balding man whose green scrubs looked too tight stepped into the hall.
Annie looked at him eagerly. “How is she?”
The hospitalist’s ruddy face was fresh and cheerful. “Resting comfortably now. Had to deal with slight hypothermia as well as an ankle with a hairline fracture. She’s had pain medication. She should be up on crutches tomorrow and likely in a walking boot in about three days. Are you family?”
“Yes.” As far as Annie was concerned, Henny was family and no one could prove otherwise. After all, they both had Texas roots. “I’m Annie Darling. Dr. Burford will vouch for me. Can I see her?”
At the name of the hospital director, the hospitalist became genial. “She’s worried about somebody named Jeremiah. You can go in, but try to keep her calm. She needs to sleep.”
Annie stepped inside the room.
A young, dark-haired nurse was checking monitors. She gave a satisfied nod, her long face calm. She exuded competence. “Everything’s fine. There’s the call button”—she pointed—“if she needs anything.”
Annie stood beside the bed. Henny lay with her silver-streaked dark hair loose on the pillow. A small bandage covered one ear. Her face was pale, but she breathed evenly, quietly. She looked small beneath the white coverlet. Suddenly, she shivered. “Cold. So cold.”