From the Heart: Romance, Mystery and Suspense a collection for everyone (25 page)

“Marcie, are you okay, babe?” Sam grabbed her mug and set it on the counter. Marcie pulled away from Sam just as she heard Ryley’s irritated yell. “Lily, come back. Lily, stop!”

Richard and Maggie pushed past Marcie and bolted out the door. Sam and Marcie followed. “Marcie, what’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong, Sam.”

“You’re scaring me. Is something wrong with the baby?”

“No… I don’t
know
… something… ” She stared off toward the road as Sam’s hands fell away from her shoulders. Time slowed. Sam started running and raced past Maggie, yelling something that stretched out long and loud, waving frantically at Lily who stood in the middle of the desolate gravel road. Ryley stood only a few feet from her. Marcie blinked through the blur as a black car sped around the bend and hit Lily. Dark tinted windows on a sleek sports car, it skidded on the gravel but didn’t stop or even slow. The car sped away.

Marcie’s head ached, and she struggled to breathe, feeling as if her chest had been ripped open by a sorrow she couldn’t put into words. But it was the screaming that pierced the dreamlike state. A sharp wind rustled the trees as Sam, Richard and Maggie huddled around Lily. And Marcie moved down the steps, across the grass and reached Ryley who hovered frozen behind Sam.

“Marcie, call 911. Now Marcie, now!” Sam shouted as he crouched over Lily.

Marcie grabbed Ryley’s arm and ran. Her ankle, not quite healed from her recent break, throbbed. Ryley said nothing as she all but dragged him back to the house. She grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed. Ryley leaned against the wall, his face white, and his big eyes nothing but large empty pools. She knew he couldn’t grasp what just happened.

“Oh, God. Please let her be all right.” She begged as she closed her eyes.

“Nine, one, one. What’s your emergency?”

“Lily’s been hit by a car, she’s five years old. She’s lying on the road.”

“Is she still breathing?”

“I-I don’t know. Sam, Richard, and Maggie are with her. She’s covered in blood.”

“We’ve got paramedics and police on their way. I need you to stay on the line with me.” Marcie gripped the cordless phone and glanced back at Ryley who didn’t move. “Ryley, I need you to stay here.” He didn’t move—he didn’t even look at her. She dashed out the door and could see Maggie on her knees sobbing. Sam appeared to be giving Lily CPR. Richard was beside him. Marcie relayed everything to the 911 operator until she heard the sirens wailing in the distance. She hung up when she saw the first red flashing lights.

She hurried back to the road, limping as she held the disconnected phone. Emergency vehicles arrived—ambulance, the sheriff, volunteers from Gardiner and Sequim fire departments blocked the narrow gravel road. Two paramedics raced over and dropped down beside Sam and Richard. Emergency personnel crowded around, leaning in. She was still alive, but barely. Marcie pressed her hand against her chest. “Hurry,” she whispered.

“We need a Medivac here now!” one of the men shouted.

“They’re en route. They have to land at the fire hall; let’s move it!” another man yelled.

Richard pushed past Maggie, ignoring her as if she were of no importance. “Is she going to make it?” A desperate father.

Sam glanced at the female paramedic with the sharp features. She shook her head. Sam stepped in front of Richard when Lily was loaded on the stretcher.

“I’m going with her!” Maggie screamed.

“There’s no room!” someone yelled as three paramedics climbed into the ambulance beside Lily. She appeared so tiny hooked up to an IV with splints and a neck collar, strapped to the gurney. A state trooper grabbed Maggie by the waist and held her back when she tried to jump in the ambulance. Richard stalked over to the sheriff and state troopers leaning against their car at the side of the road with lights still flashing.

“What the hell are
you
still doing here? Get your asses out there and find that murdering coward who hit my little girl!”

Sam stepped in and took Maggie from the trooper. She collapsed in his arms, clutching his shirt. “Marcie!” Sam yelled. “Come here!”

So many people hurried around as the ambulance sped away, lights flashing and siren blaring, just as an SUV raced in, slamming its brakes, dust flying. Whoever was driving, Marcie couldn’t see, but an angry deputy stormed toward the person who jumped out.

“Sam, Richard.” Diane flashed and waved her badge, and pushed past the Deputy. Marcie took a step--but then stopped, as Richard abruptly punched one of the deputies before being tackled by the sheriff and another deputy. One pinned his knee in Richard’s back laying him face down on the car’s trunk as the other cuffed him.

Marcie touched her head. She didn’t know what to do as Diane and Sam hurried over. Everyone was yelling. But the sheriff didn’t care. He shook his head and stuffed Richard in the back of his car.

Marcie watched Maggie standing alone sobbing. The spot she stared at was coated in blood, and one fuzzy slipper lay there alone. She needed to go to her, but was stopped when a hand touched her sleeve.

“Ma’am, you need to sit down. Are you family?” One of the local fireman, his kind hazel eyes appeared through a film of her tears.

“Ryley. I left Ryley at the house.”

“Who’s Ryley?”

Her vision blurred even more, when she looked up at him, unable to make out any of his features. Her nose was plugged, and she swiped her hands over her eyes and wiped her nose with a sleeve.

“He’s their son. Lily’s older brother. He watched this; he saw Lily hit. Oh, God.” She couldn’t hear him reply as he led her over to the fire truck and helped her sit on the back bumper.

“We asked him his name, but he won’t talk. One of the volunteers found him on the road, over there, watching the ambulance leave.”

Marcie nodded. “Please. Keep him away. How bad is it?”

She knew by the way he grimaced he didn’t want to say.

“You… you don’t think… ”

The volunteer had an honest face. “Miss? You best be getting the parents to the hospital. Prepare them for the worst.”

“What hospital?”

“She’s being airlifted to Seattle.”

Marcie didn’t know how she did it,  but she stood up and hurried to Maggie and pulled her into her arms.

Crime scene technicians arrived and taped off the area.

“Maggie, we need to go.”

Maggie pushed her away and swept her trembling hands through her hair as tears fell. “Where are they taking her? Is she all right? She was still breathing, Marcie.”

“Marcie!” Sam approached at a jog; the lines around his eyes had deepened. His face was pale.

Marcie wanted to fall into his arms, but Maggie was there first, her arms around Sam.

He stared at Marcie and rubbed Maggie’s back. “They’re airlifting her from the fire hall to Harborview Trauma. She’s still alive, but it’s touch and go. Diane arranged for another chopper, it’s waiting for us in Sequim.” Sam hurried Maggie along. Marcie fell in step beside them, but stopped after a few strides.

“Ryley, I forgot about Ryley. We can’t leave him. And Richard, where is he?”

As the sheriff pulled away with Richard in the back, Diane jogged over. The sheriff could be a hard-ass and didn’t take kindly to his officers being hit—even by a distraught parent.

“Diane, please bring Marcie and Ryley with you.” Sam hustled Maggie to his SUV and helped her in.

Marcie stood at the side of the road, alone, and watched as Sam drove away while Diane hurried off to find Ryley.

Chapter One

Words no parent should ever hear, “Your daughter didn’t make it,” played over and over in Maggie’s head as the cold wet drizzle deepened the sorrow in her bones. Gray sky battled for space between the puffy clouds.

Black. Everyone conformed. All were shrouded in this drab dress code, which of course only emphasized the emptiness infiltrating every pore of the day. For the moment, Maggie had no tears left; but make no mistake, nothing could wipe away the searing pain churning inside, knotting her stomach one moment, twisting the muscles in her neck and back--then turning them into blocks of ice the next.

Maggie sighed and tilted her head. The white and gold etched coffin her daughter lay in really was beautiful. Pink roses cascaded over the sides like a shrine. A moment of clarity swooped in and intensified the agony. Lily would have loved pink.

Five, she was only five years old, a baby still. That number was engraved into Maggie’s every waking thought. The unseen cruelty of God. The hand of fate. How Maggie hated God at this moment.
What did I do to you?
She’d screamed those words over and over with her fist raised in damning condemnation. She hated everyone at this moment, even the damn minister who went on and on preaching his sanctimonious bullshit, but no more than she loathed herself.

“We must trust in God, it’s God’s will.”

Screw you, you self-righteous prick.

Her mind was disconnected, even the strong squeeze on her left arm didn’t process right away. She looked down, her heavy head swam from the tranquilizer the emergency room doctor had prescribed. Who was touching her?
Ah yes,
her brother John. The one she rarely saw, had nothing in common with, but here he stood, concern for her carved into his face and his stare. Or maybe it was malevolence; after all, what kind of mother allowed her child to wander out into the road? She looked away, unable to take any more blame. She’d heard enough from Richard.

Every motion she made was reactive, numb, drugged. Her mind felt plugged, each one of her senses grated like a rusty piston, catching and then starting again. Her nerves were all over the map, shaking her thin grip on reality. Did she say something? She couldn't remember. John was blocking her view. She couldn’t see Lily and was rocked by a lofty wave, igniting her panic. She couldn’t remember how to breathe, so she fought for air.
What was that sound?

Grief was screaming--but who was making that sound? People crowded around her; she couldn’t see Lily. Only Richard on the ground weeping beside the coffin. John put his face in front of her, his mouth moved like a marionette, but no sound came forth. Then, in the blink of an eye, she swayed when the darkness surrounded her.
Did someone turn out the lights?

Chapter Two

One Year Later

Maggie stood in the hallway of Westwood Elementary School behind Mrs. Johnson, the special education teacher, listening as the woman reprimanded two mothers, Angie and Jean, on their choice of therapy for their special needs children. Maggie scrunched her nose and gazed upward.
Give us a break.

How dare this woman publicly humiliate Maggie’s friends, fellow parents? Angie was slim, with curves in all the right places, and could be quite the knockout if she’d put some effort into it. But she chose to play it down, tie her long hair back, and throw on a pair of glasses instead of contacts on her big blue eyes. Jean was older, plump, short, and always stood as if she had a hunch in her back. And both women remained silent as Mrs. Johnson continued to criticize.

Angie glanced at Maggie, her lips twitched as if struggling to hide her smile. Maggie couldn’t help herself. She needed to lighten the moment so she tossed her head side to side mimicking the woman’s tirade. It was so unlike her to pull these childish pranks,  but Mrs. Johnson had pushed Maggie’s buttons one too many times.

They stood ten feet from the open door of Ryley’s fifth grade classroom. Jean’s brown eyes widened, and her mouth opened, but nothing came out. When Angie’s eyes went from amazement to horror, Maggie stopped and slowly turned until she was face to face with Jacob Peterman, the tall hunky principal. His gray blue eyes narrowed, and Maggie felt her face burn. How long had he been there? And how much of the entertaining display did he see? Maggie cleared her throat and swallowed hard. She tried to say something, but closed her mouth when no reasonable words came to mind. She was aware of an awkward, old feeling, one she’d last felt in high school, the kind of moment you never wanted to relive again. “Oops, caught red handed.” She giggled.
Where in the hell did that come from?

Even Jacob Peterman couldn’t keep a straight face; his stern lips twitched.

Maggie realized that she had changed. Not overnight, but gradually… to the point everyone around her commented on it. She used to be quiet and reserved. Pausing first before speaking careless words. Now, she felt as if all she said was, “I’m sorry,” over and over. She wondered if that’s what happens when life dumps all its crap on your plate and says, “Deal, baby.” And maybe that’s what gave her the courage to grin brightly now.
Well what’s the worst that can happen? I can get banned from the school.
Jacob’s eyes appeared to soften as he took in everyone with a steadfast glance, and that’s when Maggie realized no one was talking.

Mrs. Johnson filled more space than a lot of woman, tall and wide, and her righteous expression spurred anger inside Maggie. She silently prayed Jacob heard Mrs. Johnson’s tirade. She blinked as her mind fogged again.

What started this? Ah yes…
The school didn’t have the funding needed to support all these kids with neurological disorders. Children could no longer be tagged ‘learning disabled.’ And Mrs. Johnson’s tirade: “If I give to you, I have to take away from another child.”

From her talks with him, Maggie knew Jacob believed the public education system needed a serious overhaul, with credible therapy and trained aides who understood each child’s individual needs, instead of the present “cookie cutter” therapy thinking—one size fits all. But sadly, politics, unions, and reporting lines came before the best interest of the child. As the commander and chief of this elementary school, Jacob was over everybody… except Mrs. Johnson. The Special Needs department reported to the district head office. And there was little Jacob could do about her attitude other than continuing to override her decisions.

Maggie wasn’t sure what to do as she gazed into his dark eyes. Gray tinged the sides of his dark brown hair, which actually made him appear sexier. The lines around his eyes and slightly tanned complexion linked him to his Mediterranean ancestry. He was tall at six feet two and was wearing a short sleeved, baby blue dress shirt with a red silk tie.

Maggie opened her mouth to break the silence. “Ahh…” That was it. The sum of any intelligent response she could muster. Maggie glanced at Jean and Angie standing behind Mrs. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson crossed her arms and squinted down at Maggie, her rosy lips a tight thin line. But all Maggie could see was the woman’s heavy eyebrows that appeared as if it was one thick caterpillar.

“Am I interrupting something?” Jacob’s tone was quiet but firm, more a statement than a question. Maggie jumped, and again faced Jacob just as he swept his flattened hand past Jean, Angie, and her, looking at each of them in turn. He then directed what appeared to be his stern principal gaze on Mrs. Johnson. “I presume you’re ensuring these ladies are receiving the assistance they need?” One of his dark eyebrows raised giving a look that demanded an answer.

A telltale pink colored Mrs. Johnson’s round cheeks. Her curt nod was awkward as she crossed her arms over her large chest. Tension nipped the cool sterile air. Maggie’s underarms were damp as she waited for panicked outbursts from Jean and Angie. It had been Maggie’s idea. “Let’s have a meeting, power in numbers. We’ll confront her with our issues and the lack of support for the kids.” She imagined their confession.

Each of their kids needed support at school; Jean’s son, Adam, was diagnosed with Asperger’s, ADHD, and Mild Intellectual Disability, falling just above the acceptable limits for the school, so he did not qualify for full child support. Angie’s adopted daughter, Sammy, has FAS, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Maggie’s son, Ryley, was just a typical boy unable to grasp auditory teaching in the large class. If you asked him what the teacher said, what he learned today, his response was always the same: “I don’t know.”

She imagined the cruel hardened accusation forming in Mrs. Johnson’s eyes.
Why are you here? You have no right to be here with these parents. Ryley doesn’t qualify for services. Lily would have—she was autistic. So again, why are you wasting my time?

A desperate fight stoked deep inside Maggie. She understood now what was at stake for these parents. Early intervention was key. Why hadn’t she seen that with Lily? This obsession to help others is what kept her sane now. Every day she fixated on what she could have done differently. If she would have done something, would Lily be here in this school today?

Her mind drifted a lot these days. But when she looked back at Jacob, he crossed his arms and turned that stern principal gaze on her. She didn’t know how long he’d watched her. Then as if she were a recalcitrant child, he ordered, not asked, “Maggie, I’ll speak with you in my office, now.”

Maggie glanced at Jean and Angie before following Jacob. When they rounded the corner of the single story, typical sterile school hall, he slowed his pace and stepped beside her into his office, closing the door behind them.

“Take a seat.” He gestured to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

Maggie’s insides withered. She tried to swallow past the golf ball-sized lump wedged in her throat. Her hands trembled, so she clasped them together and wedged them between her knees.

Jacob smiled warmly, kindly, as he rested his forearms on the desk.

“Do you want to explain to me what that was all about?”